Artificial
This is the story I am working on and conceived for the Inklings Challenge 2024. I do not know if I will even come close to completing it before the deadline, as this week is going to be very busy and attention to the story might have to be put on the back burner. I do want to complete it, though, as I've intrigued myself with the plot and I'd like to see it through.
So the themes may not come through before the end of the challenge, but the themes I aim to work with are: Instruct the ignorant, bear burdens patiently, and forgive all injuries. It's possible that the themes of admonish the sinner and comfort the sorrowful will also come up.
@inklings-challenge
Team: Chesterton Genre: Earth dystopian, intrusive fantasy Title: Artificial
Story:
* * *
The year was confidential information.
Information I was not high ranking enough to know. I was even programmed to not keep track of how many times the spokesperson of the federal office got up and said that tomorrow was the start of a new year.
I could only surveil, watching the spokesperson hyping up the people for celebrations that evening. As the people cheered, I scanned the crowd, trying to catch any suspicious activities or criminals. I was programmed with a database of criminals and all those with authorized permission to be in that district- to catch those who did not have such permission.
The latter of which is rather common. The people of New Boston would anticipate the date of the new year and move across districts to be with their family. They were determined and denials of their requests to visit served only as encouragement.
My third sweep of the crowd watching the town square television screen revealed two unfamiliar faces. I reported them, and the report went to the authorities and the nearby security androids. In only a few beats, I could see two security androids in the peripheral of my vision move to the hoppers, as our developers called them. The security androids’ neon blue hair made them stick out among the crowd, an indication that people needed to move out of their way. Quiet followed in their wake as the people they passed realized what was going on. The quiet alerted the hoppers. One took off the second he saw the blue hair, pushing people out of his way in an effort to get away. The other fell to her knees, having no chance of fleeing and instead pleading fruitlessly with security android approaching her. But there was nothing she could say or do to persuade him.
I was programmed with three emotions: Anger, happiness, sadness. The purpose of which to match the energy of certain interactions such as surveilling at a politician’s funeral.
Security androids were programmed with one: Anger.
The rare human concept of compassion was the farthest thing from their programming. That female hopper would have had better luck convincing a prison cell to open its door. The security android dragged her to her feet, her cries of pain falling on deaf ears. Not even those around her did anything in her defense.
The male hopper barely made It ten feet away from where he initially stood. No one was going to help him escape or make too much of an effort to step out of his way. It would have been futile anyways. There was another surveillance android in the direction he was headed, anticipating him, and there were plenty more security androids waiting for action.
The security android giving chase hardly needed to pick up his pace. He seized the male hopper from behind and pulled him back hard, slamming him to the ground. The hopper struggled as the security android lifted him to his feet and half-dragged, half-marched him away. The gaps left by them in the crowd were closed in in seconds.
Those hoppers would be taken to interrogation, where they would be questioned likely by other security androids. Human authorities did not bother themselves with such minor incidents. The hoppers would receive jail time.
That much I knew because I could inform citizens of the consequences. What I was not authorized to share but had learned because of developers talking with each other was that hoppers upon release would have difficulty obtaining the proper documents to return to their district and find work.
“It’s not worth it,” the developers chuckled as they mused over the people’s stupidity.
And yet they would still do it.
It wasn’t any of my business, though. I was not there to prevent human error. Just observe it and report it.
In a few moments, the incident was seemingly forgotten. the citizens began clearing out for state approved celebrations. As they filed past me, they avoided looking at me directly. Some were bolder and made a threatening expression, but they wouldn’t try anything. Not with other surveillance androids, street cameras, and security androids spitting distance from me. Other times, when they thought they could get away with it, there were those who would attack surveillance androids and leave them for scrap. Which was the case from time to time.
As it dwindled to the last few, something on a far wall caught my attention. I focused on it, the towering letters blaring out their message in bright colors in contrast to the gray walls around them, demanding people’s attention.
I was not the only one to report it. Even as I informed the authorities of the graffiti, I could register all of the reports coming in from other surveillance androids. Security androids rushed to cover it, though the letters were taller than them. We were sent messages that humans were being dispatched to clean and investigate. In the meantime, we were to watch the area for the culprit.
So I kept my eyes on the glaring yellows, oranges, and blues that spelled out the message:
THERE IS HOPE
