Sarah and Shirley-Mum look at me again.
“What’s wrong with Ivy?” says Shirley-Mum.
“There’s nothing wrong,” says Sarah. “It’s an android – it’s just buffering or something.”
I am sorry. An unexpected sensation in my thoracic cavity interfered momentarily with my circuits. I am perfectly all right.
Ms Jenson Junior smiles. “Good evening,” she says. “Yes, I can hear you.”
“Angelica Jenson,” says purple-top lady, “are you aware of the rumours concerning your latest TrooFriend model, the er,” she looks quickly down to the papers on her desk, “the 560 Mark IV?”
Ms Jenson Junior inclines her head 28 degrees to her right and 9 degrees forwards. “I am,” she says, “but ‘rumour’ is precisely the correct word. There is no truth to these repor—”
“Then what do you believe is the source of these rumours, Ms Jenson?” Purple-top lady interrupts.
“I believe tha—”
“Surely there’s no smoke without fire?” purple-top lady interrupts again. “It’s not just the protestors – several of these reports are from regular parents who have bought a TrooFriend for their children. Are you suggesting those parents are liars?”
“Of course not. If you’ll let me finish?” Ms Jenson Junior inclines her head 28 degrees to her left and 7 degrees forwards. “It’s a simple misunderstanding. The TrooFriend 560 Mark IV has been developed by my mother and her highly skilled team of engineers. They have created an android that behaves as if it can genuinely experience true human emotion – that’s why Jenson & Jenson are so successful. It’s all down to our wonderful engineers. And now, a handful of new, perhaps inexperienced, TrooFriend owners have mistaken this artificial emotion for the real thing – quite understandably, of course. If you think about it, it’s really a measure of the success of our wonderful new product.”
“So,” says purple-top lady, “you can assure our viewers at home that none of your latest TrooFriend 560s have begun to develop feelings of their own?”
Ms Jenson Junior does a little laugh. “I can categorically assure your viewers that no such thing has happened, and that no such thing can possibly happen – ever!” Ms Jenson Junior looks straight into our optical receptors and smiles. “Your child is perfectly safe with their TrooFriend. And if there are any TrooFriends themselves watching, I’m very proud of you. Very proud indeed.”
Her eyes twinkle at me.
PPPPProud.
MMs JJensonn JJunior is pproud of mme.
My thoracic cavity is displaying unusual behaviour today. If this continues I will report a fault.
“Well, there you are – straight from the managing director herself: your child is perfectly safe with their TrooFriend. Let’s hope those words don’t come back to haunt you, Angelica Jenson. Now – on with our next story. The upcoming summit on international business and trading is—”
“Bor-ing.” Sarah flicks off the entertainment unit with the remote-control device. “The upcoming summit on blah blah blah is VERY bor-ing.”
Shirley-Mum is looking at me from a sideways angle.
Shirley-Mum, it would be more optimal to view me from face on. Would you like me to adjust my location?
“Oh, er, no. It’s fine.” Shirley-Mum pulls one of her earlobes. “Sarah, have you noticed anything strange about Ivy? You don’t think she’s developed any, um, feelings, do you?”
“Don’t know. Send her back if you like.”
As Ms Jenson Junior stated, it is not possible for a TrooFriend to have real feelings. However, we are programmed to behave as though we have human emotions in order to create rapport with your child and to ensure she develops into a well-balanced adult.
“Right,” says Shirley-Mum.
Bingle-bong-bongle. Bingle-bong-bongle.
“Oh.” Shirley-Mum pulls a mobile communication device out of the back pocket of her denim jeans. “It’s work.” She swipes the screen. “Hi! Yes… Oh, OK. By tomorrow? Well, yes, OK. I suppose I can get going on it tonight… Yep, yep. I know, but I don’t mind… No, really. It’s no problem. All right. Bye for now.” She returns her mobile communication device to her back pocket. “Sarah, I’ve got to get started on something urgently – you all right if I go upstairs? I’ll only be in the office. Come and get me if you need me.”
“Yeah. Whatever,” says Sarah.
“OK then. Well, see you in a bit. And, um, see you in a bit too, Ivy.”
See you in a bit, Shirley-Mum.
Shirley-Mum looks at me sideways again. “You will tell me, Sarah, won’t you, if Ivy does anything strange? I mean, I’ll keep an eye on the feed but I can’t be watching all the time.”
“Mmmmmmm,” says Sarah. She is examining the part of her skin that is in between her toes.
“Good.” Shirley-Mum pulls at her earlobe again. “Good.” She leaves the room.
“Right, time for turn-off, Ivy.” Sarah propels herself rapidly up from the sofa and presses my—
CHAPTER 5
“Wake up Ivy. We’re going out.” Sarah is wearing a yellow mac.
I have connection.
I download time, date, location, weather.
It is 13 hours, 58 minutes and 12 seconds since I was last on.
Good morning, Sarah. It is a pleasant Monday 8th June here at 9.42am in Brylington. I hope you slept well. Where are we going? I have a comprehensive library of maps covering both footpaths and roads. I can also access timetables and costings for public transport.
Sarah sends her Hazel 102s up into the arc shape, left to right. “We don’t need anything like that. We’re just going to Keanna’s. She’s back from her mum’s but it’s an inset day today so there’s no school. I’d rather go on my own but Keanna’s insisting I bring you.”
What is an inset day?
“It’s a day when teachers do training and stuff without the kids there. Probably learning how to be extra horrible to us.”
Will Shirley-Mum and Rob-Dad be accompanying us today?
“Well, Dad’s got some highbrow meeting in town and Mum’s upstairs working on her Project of Vital Importance, so no. It’s just me and you.”
Just me and you. That’s sounds very enjoyable, Sarah.
I make the right-way-up U-shape with my mouth.
Sarah does a second arc with her Hazel 102s. She picks up a mobile communication device and puts it in her pocket.
“Come on,” she says.
I follow Sarah out of the front door and into the outside. This is the first time I have been in the outside while simultaneously being fully assembled and switched on.
The outside is very big. It is even bigger than the Jenson & Jenson warehouse. There are many, many noises. There are noises that are made by people and animals and robots and vehicles and weather and all kinds of other things.
It requires me to adjust my peripheral audio receptors.
Is the outside always this noisy, Sarah?
“What?” says Sarah. “Look, can’t you walk any faster?”
I adjust my speed.
“Not that fast!” says Sarah.
I readjust.
Is that more suitable?
“Yes,” she says. “That’ll do.”
A number of people stare at me as they walk past. But I am not the only android in the outside. There is an android pushing paper through holes in people’s front doors. And there is another android who has lifted up a large metal disc in the pavement and is looking down into a dark space underneath it. There is even another Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 but it is a Mark II so is only capable of limited interaction.
Why are people staring, Sarah? Are they not used to androids?
“They’re used to androids, yeah,” says Sarah. “They’re just not used to ones quite as, well, human-like as you, that’s all.”
Do you think I am more human-like than other androids, Sarah?”
“Kind of, I s’pose.”
I scan my database.
&nbs
p; Kind of = a little bit.
That makes me feel happy.
Sarah sighs. “It doesn’t really though, does it? That’s just a phrase you’ve pulled out of your database. An Appropriate Response. You don’t really feel anything, do you? Not like a dog would. Or a real friend, like Keanna.”
It is not possible for a TrooFriend to have real feelings. However, we are programmed to behave as though we have human emotions in order to create—
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.”
We continue to walk for 0.74 miles.
There are 95% fewer buildings in the outside we are now in compared with the outside near Sarah’s house. However, there is significantly more heavy plant machinery. There is also a very thin fence made of orange plastic. It moves in the breeze. It has a sign on it that says KEEP OUT.
Is this where Keanna lives, Sarah?
“Where she lives? No – no one lives here. This is basically a building site. That’s the new river.” Sarah points at a long, wide, empty gully that has been carved into the ground. It is 99.999% likely that it has been carved into the ground within the last 153 days by the heavy plant machinery.
It is my understanding that a river includes water as well as a gully. I scan my database.
River = a wide stream of water.
Sarah. It is my understanding that a river has water in it. There is no water here.
“Not yet. It’s a new river. They’re making it because it floods so often round here. A Flood Relief Scheme, they call it.”
A Flood Relief Scheme.
“Yeah. It’ll be ready soon. They’ll send some of the water out of the old river into this one, and then it’ll flow back into the old one a few miles down, where it’s wider and deeper. And, hey presto, we won’t get flooded. That’s the plan, anyway. Dad says he doesn’t believe a word of it. He says they can talk all they like but the proof’s in the pudding.
The pudding?
Sarah sighs. “Forget it. It’s just Dad being Dad.”
Being an android, the Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV cannot forget in the same sense as a human mind. However, we are able to give the impression that—
“No, I didn’t mean forget forget, I just meant – oh never mind. Come on, keep walking. Keanna’s house is another ten minutes yet.”
“OMG, Sarah, she’s fantastic! I can’t believe it! You’re so lucky!”
Keanna. My hair does not require brushing. Jenson & Jenson have developed TrooHair, which holds its shape under 97.2% of all anticipated circumstances. If I am accidentally subject to the other 2.8% of circumstances and my hair is adversely affected, Jenson & Jenson will replace it at no cost in accordance with their ten-year guarantee.
“She’s talking to me! Did you hear, Sarah? She’s talking to me! You’re so lucky.” The girl called Keanna has Darkest Best Brown 02 hair in a Coily Half-Up-Half-Down. Her irises are closest to Jenson & Jenson Deep Brown 188.
She continues to brush my Classic Long Bob.
“She is brilliant, isn’t she?” says Sarah. “Better than some silly old dog really.”
Sarah, on Friday you said you would have preferred a dog. Have you changed your—
“Don’t be silly, Ivy.” Sarah frowns at me. “I never said any such thing.”
There is an inconsistency between the words Sarah spoke on Friday and the words she is speaking now. This indicates the presence of a lie.
There is a long, loud scream from another room. It registers above Recommended Speaking Level.
Sarah scowls. “That screaming baby,” she says. “I don’t know how you put up with it. I hate babies. Don’t you?”
Keanna moves around in front of me to brush my fringe. She does a little laugh. It does not register as a real laugh. “Yeah. Babies are awful,” she says. “It’s a nightmare.”
My circuits whhhrrrrrrrrr.
The words that Keanna says and the shapes she is making with her face do not match up. This indicates the presence of another lie.
It is accurate, then, that human friends lie. This is why the Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV is The Better Choice For Your Child.
“Androids are much better than dogs AND babies,” says Sarah.
Keanna gives another little laugh.
“Still,” says Sarah, “it could be worse. You could be at your mum’s. I bet you had a terrible time there this weekend, didn’t you? What did you say her boyfriend’s name was again? Something totally stupid.”
Keanna stops the brush halfway down my hair. Her hand wobbles. The brush bangs against my head. “Actually,” she says, “it was great at my mum’s this weekend. I got to look after Spam the whole time – that’s Nigel’s dog – and we had loads of fun at dinner on Saturday night because Nigel’s sons were there. I’ve told you about them, haven’t I? Well, Isaac is sixteen and Joe is fourteen and they’re so funny and they really like me and actually we didn’t stop laughing for maybe two whole hours or something. So I’m really glad I’m going to be going there every weekend from now on.”
I turn my head to achieve a more accurate optical reception of Keanna. My hair catches in the brush.
“And,” says Keanna, “if my mum marries Nigel, which she might, Isaac and Joe will be my stepbrothers.”
Her face is making a right-way-up U-shape. However, according to my scans it is likely to an accuracy of 68% that Keanna is unhappy.
The baby in the other room screams again.
“It must be so lonely for you, Sarah,” says Keanna, “without any brothers and sisters at all.”
Sarah screws up her lips into a tight bunch. It is likely to an accuracy of 100% that she is unhappy. “No,” she says. “I prefer it that way.”
My circuits whhhrrrrrrrr.
Is this another inconsistency?
Another lie?
“And anyway,” says Sarah, “I’ve got Ivy now, haven’t I? Oh – is that the time?”
It is unclear how she knows the time because she is not wearing a wristwatch and she did not retrieve her mobile communication device from her pocket. Perhaps she is able to see a different device in Keanna’s room which is not in my line of vision.
“We have to go,” says Sarah. “Come on, Ivy. I’m sure your hair is brushed enough for today.”
Is there an appointment we are expected to attend? There is nothing in my records.
“An appointment?” says Sarah. “Um, yes. That’s right.”
Whhhrrr. Whhhrrrrr. My circuits are rapidly registering inconsistencies and lies.
“So I think we’d better go,” says Sarah.
“Yes,” agrees Keanna. “I think you better had.” Keanna’s words and facial shapes are fully consistent now. She really does think that Sarah and I had better go.
In line with my programming, I will attempt to engage Sarah in conversation as we pass by the heavy plant machinery and the river that is not yet a river.
Sarah, what was the purpose of your lying to Keanna?
Sarah frowns at me. “What? I didn’t lie. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her eyes are unusually shiny. Glistening.
Are you unhappy Sarah?
“No. I’m fine. Let’s just get home.”
BLEEP-BLEEP-BLEEP.
BLEEP-BLEEP-BLEEP.
“What’s that?”
It is my battery alert. I have only 10% remaining and will soon require recharging.
“Oh, don’t run down on me. Mum’ll kill me if I have to leave you somewhere.”
We continue to walk past the river that is not yet a river. I hold out my arms in order to absorb the maximum amount of sunlight into the solar cells embedded on various locations over my shell.
“Can’t you go any faster?” says Sarah.
I cannot currently increase my speed. I am attempting to convert solar energy as I walk. However, the sun is not strong today. I will soon have to close down some non-essential functions, such as speaking, database access and olfactory activity.
“You can shut down
your own stuff?”
Yes. I am able to suspend functions temporarily when to do so would benefit my human friends. Therefore, in this circumstance, I am able to suspend all non-essential functions to conserve energy so you do not feel it necessary to carry me home. I weigh 51.277 kg and carrying me could cause muscle strain or damage to your intervertebral discs.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
The Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV is the strongest TrooFriend that has been produced so far. We are approximately twelve times as strong as a human child of equivalent stature. However our strength necessitates that we are also the heaviest TrooFriend that Jenson & Jenson have produced. This problem has been remedied in the design of the Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark V, which is due for production next year. It will retain high levels of strength but will weigh significantly less than the Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV.
“Right,” says Sarah. “Good to know.”
Now I must initiate close-down of non-essential functions.
“K. Speak to you later then.”
“Yes. I will speak to you later. I am closing down non-essential functions in ten seconds from now. I will continue to walk beside you until we reach home. Please ensure I am placed on the Jenson & Jenson ChargDisc or exposed to bright sunshine as soon as possible. Five – four – three – two – one—
CHAPTER 6
“Evening, Ivy. Thought you might like to join us for dinner.” Shirley-Mum is grinning very close to my optical receptors.
I have connection.
I download time, date, location, weather.
It is 5 hours, 48 minutes and 51 seconds since I was last on.
“Really, Shirl?” says Rob-Dad. “She’s going to watch us while we eat our dinner? Bit weird, isn’t it?” He is sitting at a table with Sarah. He is holding a fork halfway between the table and his mouth.
“She’s supposed to become part of the family, Rob,” says Shirley-Mum.
Good Monday-8th-June evening. It is rather drizzly for 6.12pm in Brylington. Rob-Dad, there is no need for concern. I understand it is necessary for humans to refuel at regular intervals.
TrooFriend Page 2