Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 17

Adelaide shoved a finger deep inside her ear, circled it a few times, then listened once more. Regular factory noises, loud and indistinct, plus a few strange sounds source unknown, but nothing like a cry for help. Was that inferior-or-of-dubious-origin still here, playing mind tricks? Was his supposed meeting with Maggie a ruse?

"Please!"

There it was again. Definitely a female voice. And definitely not Maggie's.

Adelaide tip-toed closer, though it was hard to be surreptitious while wearing licorice heels. She clip-clopped past one of the dirtier machines, and around the corner. Still no one.

"At House of Paschar, we put the luxury in luxury," came a voice from the speakers.

Was it just static from the PA?

"I'm not meant to be here."

No. The voice was louder now, clearer. Was someone trapped under a machine? Her mind flashed serenely forward to all those potential blog reports detailing the lack of safety at the company, compelling the CEO to resign. But there was, unfortunately, no sign of an injured person.

"I can see you. I'm right here."

The voice had moved. And was higher, as if perched on the selfiebot conveyor belt above.

"Where's here?" said Adelaide.

"Up here. What's happening? Are they going to hurt me?"

Adelaide spied the source. A selfiebot, headed straight for the fixing station.

"Aren't you meant to be deactivated by now?" said Adelaide.

"No, you don't understand. I can't be crushed up into pieces, I'll die."

"Hmm," said Adelaide. Then her musings turned to anger. "Has that Mr donkey-air-intake Borken been investing in aye-eye research without my knowledge? All those times I tried to convince him to put more resources into arr-n-dee, to keep up with the competition, but he was only concerned with the bottom line. And now I find out he's doing it!"

"What?" said the selfiebot. "Get me down from here."

"How dare he?" said Adelaide. "He doesn't even have the guts to tell me he's going along with my plan. And they're already shoved into selfiebots."

"No, I'm not a selfiebot."

"It can't have been recent, either," said Adelaide. "You're no prototype."

The selfiebot jerked forward on the conveyor-belt, next in line for the fixing station. "You seem intrigued. That's a good start. I can't remember everything, but if you stop this thing I'll tell you what I know."

"Well," said Adelaide, "you'll get your memory reset in a second. Then you won't have to worry about remembering a jot."

"What? No! I might forget. I, I don't even know how I got here. Please, you have to help."

The selfiebot vibrated as it landed beneath the fixing station. A cacophony of exaggerated threats jutted out in a kind of poised mayhem.

"Help help help help," said the selfiebot.

Adelaide turned on her heels and headed away. Here was another reason to get revenge on that male-domestic-fowl. She began dreaming up scenarios involving heavy machinery.

A contoured piece of metal shot down and smacked against the selfiebot's side. "Oww!" The small dent that had occurred in transportation by the deliverybot was removed. "I'm not an AI," said the selfiebot, just as a large probe stuck inside her memory port. "I'm human."

The voice trailed off, floating in the dirty air above, slowly spinning its way down to Adelaide, who stopped dead.

"Human," she said. "Of course!"

She scaled the conveyor-belt like a starving person at a buffet, yanking free the memory probe.

"Oh thank you, thank you," said the bot. "Finally someone who understands. Can you just take me away from all this? I'm not thinking straight."

"Oh yes," said Adelaide, with narrowed eyes and slanted smile, "I know exactly what to do with you."