Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 70

It had been a long night.

He wasn't the fastest deliverybot at the best of times, but the lump on his wheel had reduced his maximum speed by forty-two percent. On the positive side, it increased his comic affect by around thirty points.

But he wasn't interested in that. He only wanted to deliver his piping hot noodles to Mr Will Lurner, which is why he had come to this last known delivery address.

The door was open -- correction, there was no door -- so Fivven bumped his way into the home. There were no Mr Will Lurners in the living area, or kitchen. And none in the bathroom.

There were men and women in another room, but none of them were Mr Will Lurner. In fact, none of them were hu(persons), only drawings and paintings of hu(persons) stuck to the walls. This had hoodwinked him once or twice as a young deliverybot, until he'd given vital feedback that lead to an important vision recognition update. He remembered how he'd been happy to work with middle-management in those days, before learning of their true mission: to expand their own power and slow all progress under the shield of process. There was a certain happiness contained in that naivety. Part of him pined for its return.

He heard voices from another room, the only one he hadn't yet checked.

"I hope he isn't too upset," said one of the voices.

"Psh, stop thinking about that. Stress will only make your recovery take longer." This one was robotic, sending out parallel Bot-2-Bot communication, mirroring its aural speech.

"But I didn't really...handle it!" Paige's voice became louder and gruffer for those last two words. And the next four. "It is very hard."

Hu(persons) were strange creatures.

Fivven bounced into the room.

"Rest now," said the helperbot, tucking the bedsheets in with gusto. "There's been too much activity. You need sleep."

Paige noticed the deliverybot. His body was reflected in the glint of salivation from her lips.

Fivven asked the hu(person) if she had seen Mr Will Lurner, but she didn't respond. Why couldn't they use the more efficient B2B protocol? It would save time. Instead, all she'd be hearing is a long bloop. So he approached, looking to devise a series of gestures which could properly convey his question. There didn't appear to be many props in the room with which to utilise, so instead he--

Was grabbed and hoisted above the floor.

It reminded him of the warehouse where he'd receive his delivery contents. Except in this case, the crane belonged to the helperbot, who was, unfortunately, multi-lingual, and had picked up on his simplistic attempts at communication.

"There is no one by that name here," said the helperbot, turning Fivven around in the air.

"His last-known delivery was received here," said Fivven.

"He may or may not have been here, but he is not here now."

"I need to deliver his piping hot noodles," said Fivven, his wheel spinning against nothing.

"I will not be tricked. You have choc chip biscuits inside your cannister."

"It is noodles, piping hot," said Fivven. "You may check."

"No," said the helper, "you may leave."

All this happened in the time it took Paige to gasp at how quickly the helper had snatched the little deliverybot.

"Paige does not need your biscuits," said the helperbot, out loud, presumably for the benefit of the hu(person).

Fivven did as instructed, since it was clear that Mr Will Lurner was not present at this address.

As he left, Paige's face took on a forlorn expression. She reached out a trembling hand, faux pain furrowing her brow. She then checked something under the covers, to the sound of an empty plastic rattle.

Before leaving microphone-shot, Fivven heard the hu(person) say one more thing: "All the cake is gone. You don't even care, do you?"

Now where had Mr Will Lurner gone? Without any clues, there was only one location he could try.