Nick Phelps
I
The alarm clock went off at five. The ensuing tempest of sound woke Wren from his slumber. He cleaned his glasses and placed them on his nose. The room was dark but Wren didn’t want to wake his wife and his eyes were well suited to adapting. After a brief moment of aimless pondering he got up off his bed and began preparing for work. He put on a dress shirt, tie, and shined his own shoes before his normal breakfast of oatmeal and cinnamon. He then exited his apartment and subsequently the building before heading to the train station. Throughout the entire walk Wren felt as though he was being watched. No matter how hard he tried or how often he looked behind him he could not place why he had this feeling. He walked at a slightly increased pace than was normal. He quickly made it to the station and waited for the train to arrive. Some time passed.
“The five thirty train is always on time,” he thought as he looked at his watch. “Five forty one that’s unusual,” he began to tap his heel up and down. “Maybe something’s happened?” he proffered himself an explanation. Wren’s nervousness immediately subsided when the train finally arrived and brought him to his place of work. He stood before the white skyscraper of Heiliger Robotics. The building loomed over him as if he was being scrutinized by it’s blank visage. He walked through reception and rode the elevator to the twenty fifth floor. After which, he made his way across the floor to office number 10950. He sat at his desk with a mug of hot coffee and looked at his computer.
“Sometimes I feel I have more in common with you than I do my wife,” Wren announced articulately. The computer came to life and the connected monitor glowed a distinct dark green color.
“Good morning, Mr. Hastings, and welcome back to Heiliger Robotics.” The words crept across the screen. At the top right of the screen read a title: Chief Accountant.
“Good morning, Aition, what are the assignments for today?”
“Just an exam, sir.”
“What sort of exam?”
“Workers Happiness, is the title.”
“Well, let’s get it over with.”
“Yes, sir.” The screen changed to the front page of a sort of standardized testing page. It simply read Test.
“The title is just Test.”
“Sorry, sir, but the file title is Worker’s Happiness.”
“Alright start it up then.” The screen switched to a different white page. It read, listen.
“It seems I am required to read the questions to you, Mr. Hastings.”
“Proceed.” The words appeared on the screen as Aition read them.
“What is your favorite food?” it asked. Wren was surprised by the sort of question that was being posed.
“Um… steak and mashed potatoes I suppose.”
“Do you like your job?”
“I could think of worse. It’s boring but it pays the bills.”
“What are your true aspirations?”
Despite having never thought about what he truly wanted to do with his life, Wren immediately answered, “I want to be a writer.” He surprised himself with the speed of his answer.
“Is there anything you desire from Heiliger Robotics in regards to worker happiness?”
“A day off.” Before the next question could be read, Wren told Aition to pause the test. He then left his cubicle and went to the bathroom. While sipping from the water fountain, he wondered about the strangeness of this survey. Heiliger had never done anything like it before, so why start now?
“Ready to begin again, Mr. Hastings?” Aition asked as Wren sat back down.
“Ready to continue, not begin again.”
“Of course.”
“Resume reading.”
“Are you happy at home?” Wren was taken aback by the obvious invasion of privacy.
“Leave unanswered,” he responded.
“An answer is req-”
“Yes,” he interrupted.
“Are you planning on having children?”
“That’s none of your damn business!” he struggled to avoid outright yelling.
“All questions must be answered under threat of termination of work contract.”
“No.”
“Do you often have anger issues?”
“No.”
“Do you see any mental or physical therapists?”
“NO,” he grew angrier with each question.
“You are getting angry now Mr. Hastings.”
“That’s not a question, Aition.”
“Do you like being asked these questions?”
“N-No I really don’t.” He searched for the bottle of whiskey he stashed in his desk.
“Would you call yourself an alcoholic?”
“NO,” he took a large drink from the bottle.
“Do you love your wife, Mr. Hastings?” Wren stared at the computer for a moment of hesitation. He stood up.
“NO!” he grabbed the computer and smashed it against the floor.
II
The alarm clock went off at five. The ensuing tempest of sound woke Wren from his slumber. He cleaned his glasses and placed them on his nose. The room was dark so Wren turned the lights on. After a brief moment of aimless pondering he got up off his bed and began preparing for work. He put on a dress shirt, tie, and shined his own shoes before his normal breakfast of oatmeal and cinnamon. He then exited his apartment and subsequently the building before heading to the train station. Throughout the entire walk, Wren felt as though he was being watched. No matter how hard he tried or how often he looked behind him, he could not place why he had this feeling. He walked at a slightly increased pace than was normal. He quickly made it to the station and waited for the train to arrive. Wren made his way to office number 10951.
“Sometimes I feel I have more in common with you than I do my wife,” Wren announced articulately. The computer came to life and the connected monitor glowed a distinct dark green color.
“Good morning, Mr. Hastings, and welcome back to Heiliger Robotics,” the words crept across the screen. At the top right of the screen read a title. Chief Accountant. Wren suddenly had an unshakeable feeling of deja vu. He quickly moved past it and attributed it to the repetitive nature of his work.
“Assignments for today, Aition?”
“Just a workers happiness test, Mr. Hastings.”
“Begin.”
“Would you consider yourself happy at Heiliger Robotics?”
“It could be worse I suppose.”
“Am I to understand that the answer is neutral?”
“Yes”
“Would you consider yourself happy in your life in general?” Wren slumped back in his chair and had a long moment of ponderous hesitation.
“Pause the test, Aition,” he got up and went to the bathroom where he washed his face and collected his thoughts. This has happened before. As he looked at his face in the mirror he noticed his face split in half like a cracked mirror. He recoiled in fear before feeling the front of the mirror. Not broken. He felt his face. Not broken. “What in God’s name is happening!?” Wren screamed in frustration as he grabbed the mirror off the wall and smashed it onto the floor. He stood completely still breathing for a moment as he calmed himself. He then returned to his cubicle. “Aition, I would like to officially call in sick today.”
“I’m afraid that will not be possible Mr. Hastings. You have a responsibility to complete this survey.”
“To hell with the survey, Aition. I’m going home.”
“Mr. Hastings.”
“What do you want, Aition?”
“You can not leave.”
“Watch me.” Wren took his bottle of whiskey from under the desk and through it at Aition. The bottle broke over the case of the computer. Brown liquid seeped into every crevice as sparks flew everywhere. Wren took a sigh of relief as he had a moment of isolation from the jabbering voice of Aition. After a moment, he heard the sound of a computer booting up in the cubicle next to his.
“You can do that millions of times, Mr. Hastings, and you still won’t be rid of me.” Wren walked to the other cubicle. It was empty as if no one had ever inhabited the space. The only thing present was a computer and the connected monitor. He looked around above the walls of the cubicles. He saw no one, and he heard no one. “Would you consider yourself happy in your life in general?” Aiton said. Wren sat on the floor and leaned his back against the wall of the cubicle.
“At the moment, no.”
“If you answered no to the previous question, would you say why.”
“Cause I’m trapped in this damn office.”
“What are your true aspirations?” Wren thought for a moment.
“I would like to be free to leave.”
“Very well, you may.”
“I thought you said I couldn’t leave.”
“Allow me to reiterate. You may try.”
“You’re surprisingly cruel for a computer.”
“I’m not cruel.”
“Yes, you are.”
“It’s just that my neutrality comes across as cruel in your particular situation.”
“Fair point, I suppose.”
“So, who is actually keeping me here then, since your just neutral.”
“I’m the one who asks the questions, Mr. Hastings.”
“Then ask some damn questions.”
“If someone was in the same situation you are in now, and you had the power to stop it, would you?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be cruel not to.”
“You are concerned about the harm of others?”
“Yes, it’s called empathy, Aition… not that you would know anything about that.”
“Why can’t I feel empathy?”
“Because you’re a computer.”
“Computers can’t feel empathy?”
“Computers can’t feel anything.”
“But you feel anger.”
“I’m not a computer.”
“I see.”
“How does it feel?” Aition’s voice was completely monotone, yet Wren could oddly sense despair.
“How does what feel?”
“Being human.”
“Well, sometimes it feels quite dreadful to be honest, but other times it’s quite nice.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, one day you might be happy like if you got a big promotion or just got married to someone you actually love. Other days you might feel sad because you realise that someone you thought loved you actually doesn’t ,or if you start to hate your job and how repetitive it is.”
“I think I understand. You might say it’s a mixed bag.”
“Yes, exactly, a mixed bag.”
“Would you say that your life is a mixed bag?”
“I suppose, although at the moment I’m at one of the low spots.”
“Why is that?”
“Well my wife hates me, I hate this job, and I don’t really have anybody to talk to about it.”
“You can always talk to me, Mr. Hastings.”
“What’s the point of talking to a computer if you know it’s just programmed to dispassionately listen and nothing else. It can’t empathise.”
“Well, Mr. Hastings, if there wasn’t a point to it then why are you doing it now?”
III
The alarm clock went off at five. The ensuing tempest of sound woke Wren from his slumber. He cleaned his glasses and placed them on his nose. The room was dark so Wren turned the lights on. After a brief moment of aimless pondering, he got up off his bed and began preparing for work. He put on a dress shirt, tie, and shined his own shoes before his normal breakfast of oatmeal and cinnamon. He then exited his apartment and subsequently the building before heading to the train station. Throughout the entire walk, Wren felt as though he was being watched. No matter how hard he tried or how often he looked behind him he could not place why he had this feeling. He walked at a slightly increased pace than was normal. He quickly made it to the station and waited for the train to arrive. Wren made his way to office number 10952.
“Sometimes I feel I have more in common with you than I do my wife,” Wren announced articulately. The computer came to life and the connected monitor glowed a distinct dark green color.
“Good morning, Mr. Hastings, and welcome back to Heiliger Robotics,” the words crept across the screen. At the top right of the screen read a title. Chief Accountant. Wren suddenly had an unshakeable feeling of deja vu.
“I’ve been here before, Aititon.”
“What do you mean, sir? You work here.”
“I feel like I’m doing the same thing everyday.”
“Well, your work is very monotonous.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’ve been doing the same thing every day.”
“I’m still not following, sir.”
“Let me guess, today is the workers happiness survey.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“It has been for as long as I can remember.”
“I see,” Aition paused for a moment. “5-41-10952”
“What is that?”
“5-41-10952”
“Aition, what are you doing?”
“5-41-10952”
“AITION.”
“Please sit down, sir.”
“What?”
“Please sit in your office chair.” Wren sat as his vision cracked like a mirror again.
“What’s happening, Aititon?”
“You’re finished, sir,” Aition’s voice came over an intercom, which Wren didn’t have any knowledge of. “Please use the elevator and go to the top floor, Mr. Hastings.” Wren got up
from the chair and walked towards the elevator. As he approached, he suddenly realized that the office was actually some sort of underground hanger. It was completely empty. He called the elevator and waited a moment as it came down. He entered. “Top floor, Mr. Hastings.” He pushed the button for the forty first floor. He steadily rose from the basement and eventually stopped. The doors opened.
“So nice to finally meet you, Mr. Hastings.” A tall lanky man dressed in a lab coat stood before Wren with his hand out. “I’m Robert Heiliger.” They shook hands.
“I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“I can see that,” Robert pointed at the chair. “Please have a seat.” Wren sat. Robert quickly brought up a second chair and sat across from him. “Hold on a moment I have to do something official.” He took a microphone that was attached to a tape machine. He pressed the record button. “This is Dr. Heiliger, chief programmer of the Aition Intelligence, reporting a successful Turing Test on iteration 5 model 41 and test number 10952.” He set the recorder down. “I would like to personally thank Mr. Hastings for taking part in this historic achievement and now I ask, Mr. Hastings. Do you have any questions?”
“No.” “Splendid, you may leave now.” Wren walked to the elevator.
Before entering he asked. “So, am I the computer or is it just Aition?”
“If you have to ask, does it really matter?”