The development
of autonomous androids had languished in the periphery of scientific discovery
until the middle of the 21st century. At first the technology had remained on
computer screens, with real-time, real-world simulations to ascertain real
damage from a certain course of action, so that potential consequences could be
reduced or avoided altogether. With the vastness of cyberspace and the
increasing capacity of computers for memory, many store chains began using
computers and "self-serve/self-checkout" technology to streamline
information between stores (if a certain store did not have a product, the
computer would search all the stores to find it and have it shipped directly to
the customer) and cut down on food-handling-related accidents and diseases (by
building machines that could prepare a dish to order, which could be
"programmed" on a computer screen and served via a chute to the
patron). Businesses with more of a capacity for computer automation, such as
banks, switched to mostly computer screens and hyper-secure networks, retaining
only a few employees to give their clients the illusion that their money was in
the hands of a real person, whom they could trust.
All that changed
at the turn of the century, when human likeness could be sculpted and molded
over a robotic shell, creating a functional android. At first the droids were
used in hazardous environments and menial, repetitive tasks that required more
precision than humans could deliver with consistency, but as the droids'
central processors became more sophisticated, more human-like, droids were then
used as wait-staff, entry-level clerks, and menial employees, still under
on-site supervision by humans. By the year 2120, though, droid programming had
advanced to the level of near-humanity, meaning that an entire shopping center
could be staffed by a fleet of androids and monitored by only a handful of
off-site programmers, and very rarely would things actually "go
wrong."
The one
difficulty with an android staff was that the technology needed to run them,
plus the droids themselves were still too expensive for small businesses to
"hire." Typically an android staff could be found only in larger
shopping centers and higher-end businesses. They never got sick, they never
needed vacations, and the variable of fraud (whether stealing or lying) had not
yet been considered or explored.
Such was the
world in the year 2130, the year of the collapse of the Byblos corporate empire
in the face of the up-and-coming Peres Corporation. Conrad Parisian acquired
the Californian company and effectively replaced Byblos as the largest
monopolistic company in the nation. Rather than move his workforce population
to the new location, President Parisian turned the former corporate campus into
a privatized, company-owned community, called Paristown. Former Byblos
employees could continue to live there in comfort and constant employment, or
choose to move to the Reno Headquarters, a larger, better version of the
original Grand Campus. Furthermore, since Peres employed the largest android
population of any company, President Parisian issued the provision that any
small businesses usurped and absorbed by Byblos could return to their original
locations and start again. The former company Integra Communications announced
its severance, and a large portion of the original workforce departed to St.
Louis, Missouri, unsure of what they would find, or whether they really could
begin again. Rumors floated that some Integra employees still remained in
Paristown, but no one cared to confirm these words.
Into this world, a girl was born......
Paristown, CA
Vanessa Decker
awoke at 8 AM on Thursday, April 9, 2150, sure of at least one thing: her
father was cooking her favorite breakfast. She could smell the maple syrup and
the warm cinnamony scent of the French toast. She sat up in bed. The doors of
her smart closet took the day's fashion trend and weather forecast into
consideration and projected a recommended outfit for her. Vanessa ignored it
and merely threw on her robe before running down the hall. She could get dressed
later.
In the kitchen,
Michael Decker dunked the slices of bread into the beaten egg mixture and laid
them on the hot griddle. He angrily swept his hand across the kitchen computer
screen, closing another ad informing him as they always did when he cooked
that, for a sizeable fee, Michael had the option of "hiring" an
android personal chef, or installing an automated kitchen, fully
self-operational, to cook for him instead. Michael grunted and lifted the
crusty brown slices onto a plate and prepared the next batch. He didn't need
more machines watching him and recording his movements! He had enough of that
as a security technician, repairing surveillance equipment and various
electronics for the Peres Corporation in Nevada.
He looked up as
Vanessa waltzed into the room.
"Good
morning, Daddy," she chirped.
"Good
morning, sweetie," he replied. "Did you sleep well?"
"Oh
yeah," she gushed as she sat down and began eating.
"Oops!"
Michael cried, joining her. "What did we forget?"
Vanessa
swallowed the bite in her mouth. She knew almost immediately. "Oh, the
blessing!" She bowed her head and twiddled her fork as Michael prayed,
"Dear Jesus, bless this food; Amen."
Having done
this, they could safely resume eating.
"So,"
Michael conversed with his daughter, "What are you going to do today while
I am at work?"
Vanessa
shrugged, "Oh, I think I need to go grocery shopping; I might pick up a
few things for myself. Then I'll probably go to the library. They have this new
visibook series that looks pretty awesome."
Mike chuckled,
"The usual?"
Vanessa laughed,
"Yep, the usual!"
A chime sounded
from somewhere in the house. Michael scrambled to his feet. "There's the
bus!" he exclaimed.
Vanessa rose to
see him off.
"Have a
good day, sweetie," Michael told his daughter. "Remember, keep a low
profile, stay out of trouble, and if anyone asks—"
Vanessa sighed,
"Tell them I am Tricia Carson and my family has always worked for
Byblos." She kissed her father on the cheek, "Daddy, I know."
She chuckled lightly, "It's not as if the androids are going to ask
anyhow. They have no imagination!"
Michael laughed
and shook his head as he walked out the door. That expression, once meant as a
figure of speech, now took a more literal twist in the age of Artificial
intelligence.
Vanessa waved as
the hoverbus containing her father skated away on its magnetic track. She
moseyed back to her room. Pulling on red jeans and a pink tee shirt, she
plopped down in front of her computer screen and flicked through the ads and
the Peres-approved news stories on the Internet.
"President
Parisian Promises Prodigious Party!" one headline boomed.
"Peres Lets
The Good Times Roll!" trumpeted another.
A banner
flashed, "BIG SALE!"
Vanessa selected
it. She read that all merchandise was on "extreme markdown" because
of the party going on at the Reno complex. Vanessa grinned as she slipped on a
pair of red sneakers and prepared to go shopping.
On her way out
of the room, she nearly tripped over the small, box-like housekeeping droid,
one of a set built into the house that regularly kept its surfaces free of dirt
and germs. Vanessa scowled at the oblivious mechanism and continued to the
kitchen.
Reaching the
computer, she gave the order, "Grocery List." The computer instantly
projected a holographic list of the supplies that were getting low in the
pantry. Vanessa pulled a touch-sensitive glass tablet out of the shelf below
the counter and downloaded the list by passing the tablet through the hologram.
This done, she slipped the tablet into her red leather purse and donned a cap
and sunglasses before stepping out the door.
"Farewell,
Tricia," the door chimed as she
departed down the walk. Now that the house knew that both occupants were no
longer present, it would automatically lock all holoplast portals until one or
the other returned.
Tricia Carson
moseyed through the shops in the large Paristown Market, built—ironically
enough—out of the former Byblos Marketing Department. Colorful signs and
displays guided her to the stalls and booths selling the items on her list,
while at the same time directing her down aisles stocked with unlisted items
Tricia would be most likely to buy. She came out of the Market with everything
on her list, plus a new handbag, some tablet games, and the latest edition in
closet organizers. She strolled down the block wheeling her purchases behind
her, feeling almost giddy with success. Even the merchandise scanners at the
front of the store congratulated her when she scanned her card. "Well
done, Tricia Carson! Great selections!"
Vanessa skipped
up the front walk, but stopped when she reached the door. The lock was visibly
disengaged. Who was in the house?
Vanessa stepped
in slowly. "Hello?" she called. She heard the familiar theme of the
Peres News channel. Walking into the living room, she saw her father sitting on
the couch, a bottle of champagne on the TV table, and the flatscreen tuned to a
celebration occurring in Peres Reno.
Vanessa walked
up behind her father and rubbed his shoulders. Michael jumped and nearly
dropped the flute in his hand.
"Oh,
Nessa," he sighed when he saw her. She took a seat next to him as he
resettled himself.
"What are
you doing home so early?" Vanessa asked. "Where did you get
champagne?"
Michael chuckled
and gestured toward the television. "President Parisian is throwing a
party for his executives." He said, "He's allowing all employees a
bottle of champagne and the day off. Isn't it great?" He offered her a
flute of the sparkling beverage.
Vanessa took a
sip, grimaced, and resolved not to try anything like that in the future. Father
and daughter sat back to watch the famous "party like no other in the
country."
>>>>>>
No comments:
Post a Comment