Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 89

"Two minutes!" said Will, checking his personal screen.

He panted to his chair, flicked a few switches, clicked a few buttons, and brought up the Epochs of Civilisation competition lobby. His name was listed as coming up next. After he accepted the ready request, the game loaded around him in a paused state, the black fog of war surrounding his nascent town centre.

"One minute," he said, reading the in-game count-down.

He sat back in his chair, stretched his arms out and cracked his fingers. Finally a chance to breath, to settle his mind before the game.

It'd be nice if his grandma could have similar kinds of reminders, so that she wouldn't have to rely on his parents and could live by herself once more. A kind of memory helper. If she were here now, what would she say? Something supportive. She was always opened minded, happy to go with the flow -- whatever he wanted, she'd provide. But what did she want?

At least he was away from that annoying selfiebot.

Sweat dripped from his eyebrows. With both elevators in use, he'd taken the stairs to get up to his floor, something he wouldn't have attempted even a few days ago. OK, so maybe she was right about this change in his life. Still, she didn't understand how important the competition was. People weren't going to fawn over his innovative strategies for climbing stairs.

The screen told him to ready his camera, reminding him to use the prescribed selfiebot in preference to a standard generic webcam. His heart jumped when he noticed it sitting on the desk. For a moment he thought it was Libbi, returned to help escort him through the game. But it was too clean, too new; the replacement bot sent from House of Paschar. Part of him was disappointed.

It was strange how the selfiebot was unboxed, though, as if someone had rummaged through his possessions. Then he remembered the purple woman, and looked around quickly. The only sign of her earlier presence was the tidier room and neatly stacked belongings.

But there was something else. He digested the entirety of the room. An uneasy queasiness settled down into his soul.

The selfiebot fluttered up, dancing sporadically in the air, slowly becoming accustomed to its own body. Will couldn't help but think about Libbi's first attempts at flight, the way she careened toward him at full speed. A smile of reminiscence spread across his face. He half-expected her voice to emanate from the speaker. Instead, the deep baritones of a seductive man promptly sobered up his outlook. It regaled him with praise, exuberantly complementing his strong jaw structure, his broad shoulders and dishevelled handsomeness. I'll leave it as an exercise to the reader to spot the occasional, err, untruths.

Just as the bot settled on Will's best angle, the game began. Without much conscious thought, he set his early units to work, a standard opening in what appeared to be a good early location. His mind was so awash with the required macro strategy that he found it hard to put his thoughts in order.

He peeked momentarily at the selfiebot, shook his head, returning his full focus to the game.