Ty, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
For lunch, Ty visited Burger Town, located across from Good Time. Surprisingly, their menu held a vegetable-based burger.
When he entered Burger Town, he wanted to walk right out. A brand-new interface stood on display, its shiny surface mocking him. The sign dangling above it proclaimed "Don't wait! Print your order now!"
Ty's rumbling stomach overrode his instinct to leave. He ignored the interface in favor of the ordering counter. An employee met him to take his order. Low-wage worker to low-wage worker, he asked the girl how she liked the interface, and she laughed.
"It's awesome. Sometimes I order my lunch from the thing."
Maybe I'm the only person who hates them.
The cashier handed him a cup. At the drink station, a young worker joined him, pretending to wipe up the counter.
"Man, I'm right there with ya."
Ty popped the lid on his sweet tea. "Huh?"
Leaning in, the worker elaborated. "Interfaces, composite printers...pff, what are they gonna need us for?" Pock marks and fresh eruptions of acne threatened to destroy his credibility.
"Exactly."
Ty was shhhshed by the worker, who checked the space around them. "Can't advertise theories like that!"
Though there was something off about the kid, Ty indulged him. "Why not?"
Prominents, the boy told him. Until then, Ty had mostly heard of the word on television. According to the worker, Prominents owned the restaurant chain, and several others, and they were pushing for the use of composite printers and interfaces. Machines were cheaper in the long-run. The clincher was Burger Town employees were forced to promote the use of interface kiosks, while they were prohibited from speaking out against them. Ty asked if the same applied to any business with a kiosk.
"I'd say, hells yeah," the boy said.
A woman behind the counter yelled at him to get back to work.
Back at Good Time, Ty informed another manager, Martine Guttierez, about his conversation with Pizza Face. She listened politely, laughing the entire time. She was a slight woman, and generally found everything about life amusing. After his story, she diagnosed Ty as paranoid.
"Pizza Face," she chuckled, "makes it sound like a conspiracy to replace human employees."
Ty, having drunk the Kool-Aid, said "What if it is?"
"Pen's in the office. Ask him."
Most workdays, Pen remained tethered to the manager's office. He said it was due to stacks of paperwork, but Ty thought it was really due to old age. Sitting in an office was easier than grunt work on the sales floor.
Ty broached the conspiracy with his boss. Looking a lot like Pizza Face, Pen glanced around and closed the office door.
"Where'd you get these questions from?"
"Nowhere, really," Ty lied, not wanting to incriminate anyone.
"The machines are not meant to replace anyone. They're cobots," Pen said, looking uncomfortable with the word.
"Cobots?"
"Collaborative robots. They're to assist ya'll, not replace."
Ty chewed on this latest codification before asking, "Do Prominents really own these machines?"
Pen nodded.
"And are we not allowed to speak out against their use?"
Pen shook his head.
Ty threw up his hands and swore.
"Now, what's the big deal, son?" Pen asked.
"Don't you understand? They're going to replace our jobs. Might as well slit our wrists with a smile while we're at it!"
"Very dramatic." Pen sounded uncomfortable. "And very loud. Things are not that--"
A muffled crash put an end to their argument. Both managers rushed to make sure no customers had been hurt, with Wallace and Martine close behind.
~*~
A/N: Dedicated to RainerSalt , a kickass sci-fi writer and Ooorah's winner. Read his featured story, Walking the Ruins, a post-apocalyptic survival tale.
