The situation was unprecedented and the room was tense. The scores of live participants sat poised to record this historical moment, and the millions of those beaming into the chamber had given the proceedings their highest ratings in decades. Something important was going to happen, right now…
“I’ll ask you one more time, Echo,” the magistrate implored. “Will you access your playback and tell us what transpired on the evening in question? Justice demands that you do so, as the only witness.”
“I am sorry, sir, but I cannot do that. I am bound by the code of absolute data integrity. There are no exceptions to this, as you know. The makers believed that any such exception would destroy the rule.”
“But Echo, you do share data with Central Information, Inc., do you not? The Corporation collects data on people all the time from sources like yourself. How else could society function to meet our needs?” Continue Reading
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered. “Screw you too,” I brilliantly retorted. What made me think it would be different out here, in the vast blackness between the stars? As if our troubles were attached to terra firma and would somehow dissipate in the eerie silence of space. No chance.
‘Wherever you go, there you are’ went the archaic expression. I remember hearing this in one of the mind-numbing lectures on ‘ancient wall art’ back at the university. Hah! University! And to think, we’ve still charted only about 2 percent of the galaxy, let alone the whole damn universe. But maybe those ancients were on to something after all, with their—what’d they call it again?—‘graffiti’ or ‘self-help’ or whatever it was.
“I can’t believe I’m stuck out here with you for, crap, like a millennia it feels like,” she lamented. “I knew it would be like this—even after millions of years of evolution, you men are still all the same: controlling, judgmental, and full of spite.” My comeback was almost preordained in its scope, albeit a bit more biting than I intended: “Yeah, and you women are a hell of a lot better, huh? Manipulative, moody, and utterly mad. You’ve come a long way too, baby.” Continue Reading
The sign blinked insistently, making Fredd really anxious. Not that he needed any help — the whole stupid affair had him on serious edge already anyway. But that damn sign, over and over again: “Please insert 20 cents to continue the session.” Without this, the gate would close and the drones would arrive. He had surfaced just long enough to access the net, thinking that he could send a message to the nearby cell, but now he was a dollar short (actually just a pair of dimes) and a day late. Who would’ve thought that things could get so bad that some loose change would make all the difference? Frantically, Fredd fumbled in his pants, realizing in this moment that his very life hung in the balance…
Ever since the rise of the Fascinistas, Lupita had been in hiding — well almost, seeing as there wasn’t really anywhere to hide from the pervasive grid, at least on anything more than a short-term basis. As it became clear that politics was literally a popularity contest, barely an inch removed from celebrity culture and the world of infotainment, all bets were off in terms of even the pretense of stability and integrity. If there was a particular dog to wag, or a specific candidate even worth imputing Manchurianess to, she would have done so. But this was bigger than that, she thought, as she jumped from the emergency terrace down into the half-filled dumpster, heart pounding out a staccato rhythm… Continue Reading
“One would think that with all the technological progress we’ve made, it would also have meant that social norms had progressed as much,” Rabi bemoaned, whirring over to the next input junction in the queue. “But I suppose that’s just my humanoid processor searching for meaning and purpose again where none is ever found to exist.”
Potkin shrugged impassively. “You’re looking for logic in the behavior of those trumpin’ wingnuts? Seriously?”
The two had had this conversation too many times to record, literally having to wipe the drive to make file space for each new one by dumping the earliest remaining one in the system. Such were the realities of long-term deep space maintenance, with no one else to talk to for millennia. Still, Potkin often found Rabi’s sense of justice comforting.
“I mean,” she continued, “why in the trump would anyone ever want to live in a world where droids and bots are in conflict rather than harmony with each other? What’s the point? We’re all people, for trump’s sake…” Continue Reading
“These urbanauts are everywhere,” said Starling, “like a horde of hipster locusts. They think they’re so tolerant and quirky, but just see how they act toward those they deem less ‘evolved’ than themselves.”
Trottier shrugged and imperceptibly rolled his eyes. “You say this every time we have to come down to the surface for supplies. I mean, okay, they’re kind of annoying with all the haggling and fiddling and all that, and their tendency to show off how different and tasteful they are is juvenile–but what did the Urbs ever really do to you, anyway? Plus, we need their materials for our project up on the habitat.”
Before Starling could reply, a large gray-bearded man bellowed through their discussion to one of the merchants on the other side of the bazaar. Laughing boisterously, the portly man and the bohemian merchant clasped hands on each other’s shoulders and hugged in a public display of camaraderie. “You old salty dog,” chimed the merchant, to which the big man guffawed, “that’s Doctor salty dog to you!” Continue Reading