Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 2

There are people in this world who are happy to sit on the sidelines, content to allow the world to assign merit to their lives, satiated by simply remaining in the shadows of those who came before them. Josef Hydan Jr was not these people.

"Out the way," he said, sending an anonymous human body scurrying.

It was coming together. Slowly. Too slowly.

He looked out at the static warehouse, people milling about in clumps, discussing their next movement in advance.

"Come on, people!" he boomed.

You needed to be firm with them or they'd take advantage. That's what people did. Use or be used.

The associate producer from the news network struggled to keep up. "We have our own studio set in the city, Mr Hydan," he said, breathing heavily, "it really is no trouble to--"

"The fake backgrounds?"

"We can give you a nice cityscape at twilight."

"I paid a lot of money to be on your program, and I'm not going to waste it," said Josef.

"You paid for advertising," corrected the assistant producer. "We just so happen to book people after they've purchased a promotions package."

"And you don't gain anything by letting others control the narrative. You're from the media, I thought you'd know this stuff. What do they teach you?"

"Rationalisation," said the associate producer, before quickly covering his mouth.

Josef ignored the joke. Who had time for jokes? If you don't work hard, someone else will work harder, and soon enough you'll find yourself out of a job and living off the Universal Basic Income like those other losers.

"Take a look out there," he said. "What do you see?"

"Err," said the associate producer.

"Humans. Real humans. That's what people want to see. They want to believe the lie that a rising tech start-up employs masses of employees."

"These aren't your workers?" said the associate producer.

"Of course not. We only need a few warm bodies for key areas. These are actors."

Josef shoved two of them to a different part of the warehouse, telling them where to move and at what time, before returning to the associate producer. "Lucky to have the job, if you ask me. But that's the point. People watching will want to believe the lie, so that's what we show them. It's automation that's halved the cost of bread in just a few years, not additional labour costs."

"Yes, you make some excellent points, Mr Hydan," said the associate producer. "We'll be going live in a few minutes."

Josef raised his suit jacket as he took his seat. A subconscious act that had become a habit. It was barely a muffin top, but that didn't stop the derisory comments from a certain someone. A selfiebot hovered down to eye level, but Josef was focussed more on the happenings behind him.

"What are you doing?" he said to a stray actor. "I understand it's a stretch since you've never had a role like this before -- you know, a job -- but you need to look like you're working. Act if you have to."

The activity increased. Crates overflowing with humanoid robot body parts rolled back and forth, criss-crossed by men and women sweating in blue trousers, striding with impossibly large smiles: extras, hoping to be spotted by a lazy casting agent.

Josef played subconsciously with the red gloves in his hand.

"So just stare directly into the selfiebot," said the associate producer, "as if it's our host Barbara's eyes."

"She's got the intro I sent?" said Josef, wiping his brow.

"Of course. And there's no need to be nervous. This will be going out to--"

"I'm just hot," growled Josef, scanning the area. "Where did he go?"

"I'm here," said the assistant producer.

"He was just--" said Josef, looking past him. "I need a term."

"Sorry?"

"Something to use on this stupid program. What does he always say? Something to do with learning?"

A cartoon-like holographic head appeared. It belonged to Josef's Personal Digital Executive Assistant, who I'll call Lem for obvious reasons.

"Ooh, ooh, I know the one, I know, I know!" said Lem. His words bounced more than his head. "Machine learning! Mmhm. Yup."

"Is that artificial intelligence-y enough?" said Josef.

"Oh boy, is it?" said Lem. "One hundred percent artificial intelligence-y."

"Dingbat," breathed Josef, prompting Lem to shimmer away.

The assistant producer was staring in a funny way.

"What are you looking at?" said Josef.

"You know, when they told me my assignment, I thought they meant the real Josef Hydan."

Josef narrowed his eyes. "We can't always get what we want."

"Senior. Your dad."

"Yes, I'm aware of him," said Josef.

"I was hoping to get a taste of what it's like to be a real titan of industry. Instead..."

"Why are you still talking to me?"

"It's my job. I'm a producer, you know."

"Associate producer," said Josef. "I'm surprised they haven't automated you away. This bot performs all the technical parts of your job, and the actual producer has sent a copy of all the topics we'll discuss. What's left? Your real job is to make me happy, isn't that right? You'd do a better job if you were slim, five foot ten, and had massive small-stocky-woodland-birds."

"I don't have to take this," said the associate producer.

"If you want to keep your job, you do. If not, you can always join these actors, barely surviving off the ewe-bee-eye. Good luck."

The associate producer looked down at his silk shirt, his gold watch, his bespoke Mediterranean shoes. "Thank you for choosing us as your platform of choice."

Finally, the respect he deserved.

The selfiebot projected a thirty-second timer on the floor. It began to count down.

The world loves celebrity, and this appearance would get his name out there, hopefully directly into the ears of investors. And who knows, his father might even see it.

Behind him, actors did their best impersonations of blue-collar workers. Displays like this weren't cheap, and his balance sheet was looking anaemic. He needed a little more time to develop a working prototype, but that was proving harder than it seemed. Made all the more difficult by the necessary secrecy.

He absently picked at the wool in one of the red gloves, then shoved it into his breast pocket as the countdown dinged to zero. He heard Barbara's voice welcome the audience to the show, and wondered if any of these low-grade humans behind him possessed secret reserves of strategic thinking.

Doubtful.

He barely even winced when Barbara introduced him by name.