The rest of the class passed by at a grueling pace. Ms. Carol arrived an hour later with a stack of papers, passing a packet out to each of us. She avoided eye contact with me, simply slapping the paper down and continuing forward. I took it in my hands, running my fingers along the sides. I’d never felt real paper before. It was so much heavier than I’d thought, and the sides were sharp enough to cut through flesh. Scribbling my name on the front, I boredly began to flip through it. As I’d expected, it was the same material we were always taught: how great my parents were, how technology worked, and to always rely on the computers to do everything. It was really genius stuff, especially considering that my parents had been the ones to design the school curriculum. Without a second thought, I was able to breeze through it.
Beside me, Alden was helping Fickle work through one of the questions, his voice soft and assuring, even when she failed to understand. I couldn’t comprehend how the blonde kept so much patience with her. She was a terror and, obviously, an idiotic one at that. I didn’t see any point in wasting time on her, but Alden was persistent and, eventually, she got it correct. Craven began thanking him almost immediately after the girl began to celebrate. The shimmer of pride in Alden’s eyes made my stomach twist uncomfortably. How could people be so fond of each other? Was this what happened when you refused to live every moment in the digital world? You started to become attached to real people and form connections, even through the unpredictability? How…How gross!
I kept my head down for the rest of the day, even through lunch, and left as soon as the bell rang. The walk home was much warmer than the walk there, and the day’s discomforts melted away as I flipped the headset back up over my eyes. Covering my nose to protect it from the city’s rank aroma, I hurriedly followed my screen’s directions and made it back home in four minutes. Climbing the stairs and pushing open the door, I was met with the sound of my mother conferring with someone, likely an employee, through her headset. Blindly tossing off my shoes, I headed straight for my room and flopped down on the bed with a huff.
For a moment, I sat in silence, simply watching the virtual fan spin in circles over my head, before the door pushed open. Instead of seeing either one of my parents, as I had initially expected. I was instead met with one of the chatbots my mother had bought me. She was a black-haired girl with unnaturally wide blue eyes, a casual outfit of jeans and a white sweater, and pristine gray Converse. She was much cleaner than any of those street rats at school.
“Stacy, you don’t know how relieved I am to see you.” I gestured to the chair, giving her the command to sit.
“It’s great to see you as well, Brash.” She crossed one leg over the other, staring at me with a small smile on her pixelated lips. “My life is so dull without you!”
My confidence leapt at her words. “Yeah, must be pretty boring without me around, right?”
“Of course!” Her smile didn’t waver as she nodded, even her hair staying unnaturally still. “My very existence is based on hanging out with you and making you happy! How grateful I am to have a 907 as a companion.”
Unconsciously, I hesitated, as though expecting her to start up another conversation of her own. Instead, she stared at me expectantly, clearly waiting for another prompt. The dullness in her eyes reminded me that I was speaking to a line of programming, not a human. I’d never had a problem with that before, but the dopamine I usually got from speaking to her was significantly dampened.
“Uhh…anything interesting happen with you?”
“My life isn’t interesting until you come around, Brash!” She held her hands neatly in her lap.
My eye twitched at her response, though I hummed gently and lay back down. After a moment of silence, her programming forced her to begin yammering on about how amazing I was, how our family had revolutionized society, and how her existence depended on making me happy. It was all things I already knew, though my ego had no issue hearing them again. While one part of me was reveling in the praise, the other part, the part that was beginning to get on my nerves, began remembering the interactions I’d witnessed today. Images of Craven helping Alden to his feet, Link promising to take Fickle on an adventure, Alden’s eyes shining with pride when she finally got the answer right, and the concern they’d all shared over Alden’s conflict danced through my head. There was something in their eyes, something in their tones that no robot could replicate. Suddenly, I began to yearn for whatever that may be. I wanted someone to look at me and feel pride for something I’d done, not something a computer had. I wanted someone who offered to hang out with me because they wanted to, not because they were programmed to. I wanted someone who–
Snapping out of it, I began shaking my head fervently as though to clear away those thoughts. What was happening? Why was I thinking like this? This went against everything my parents had taught me: human connection meant nothing unless it was parental. Robots could do everything a person could and better. Parents were only important until adolescence had passed. All of that was true, an indisputable fact, so why was I questioning it? Clenching my eyes shut, I listened to Stacy’s praises, focusing on the way my ego swam in it. Everything she said was true. I was great. I did come from an amazing family. My willingness to submit to technology’s superiority and control made me perfect.
Neither of my parents checked on me that night.
