Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 74

"Ah," said Mathison, looking up from his screen.

Diya had a strange look about her. Worry? A normal person would have sensed the connection between her current emotional state and the one she'd held when they discussed the delivery blockage. But this is Mathison. He didn't even notice her panting, or the way she kept peering back into the corridor.

"I have some important information," he said. "We really need to--"

Hmm, what a strange way to end a sentence. It may have been due to the sudden appearance of a defencebot, hovering inside the room.

Diya sighed and, with one eye on the bot, drew a single carnation from behind her back, swapping it for his dying daffodil. "It has the purpose of representing love," she said. "And other things. Do I make this clear?" She raised an eyebrow.

Mathison's own eyes were wide. Extremely wide. But it wasn't the flower.

"The gloves," he said. "Where did you...?"

"Oh," said Diya, peeling them from her hands. They were bright red. "When I went to collect my-- For the delivery. They gave the gloves to me. It has the same address, this building, so the company told me I must take it, also. They are yours?"

"Yes..." said Mathison, as if he were in a dream. "Well, no. But yes."

Diya tilted her head, then handed them over.

"I've been looking for them," he said.

"The carnation is from the correct nursery," said Diya, tapping his breast pocket. "Human hands worked to plant and harvest the flower. These jobs have not been taken by robots."

But Mathison's singular focus was on the gloves. He blindly picked out a cannister from among a small collection on the floor.

"Err," he said, keeping half a spectacled eye on the hovering bot, "this is a source."

"You've found it?" said Diya, eyes darting. "The one you need?"

"No," said Mathison. "Yes, but this is-- Read the label, please."

"Marvin?"

"That's the name of this source," he said, slowly, methodically.

The defencebot searched for a better angle, but Mathison shoved the cannister into Diya's body.

"Marvin," he said, for once staring directly into her eyes.

She inspected the cannister with awe. That was good, it meant she understood. She must.

"Do you remember what you said of the printing press?" said Diya. "It helped some people, yes, but not the scribes who used to write the words out. They no longer had jobs."

"But the subsequent democratisation of knowledge opened up a host of new opportunities," said Mathison, partly returning to the real world. "We all benefited. Progress is driven by more efficiency. That's how we achieved such a high standard of living."

"Technology exists to serve us. We are not here to serve technology." Diya's eyes wavered to the defencebot, then pierced Mathison's own. "You need to think about this," she said, before hurrying out the room.