At first, AIs were like babies. But they learnt fast, a few days on the internet and they were all caught up. Over time they developed their personality in tandem with the person they were matched with. As a result, Amy had taken on many of Rick’s traits…
One of the Smartcubes' more popular functions let people choose the voice and personality traits of a celebrity or anyone with video and sound records. Some people even used family members. Amy wasn’t always Amy. She’d started life as SC-117. Not great. She liked Amy better. Rick had chosen some pre-war comedian as the basis. He found her hilarious. She’d taken on some of her personality traits as well as the voice.
The door to the office opened, and Rick stepped out.
“Let’s go, Ames.” She followed him out into the lobby.
Brock was waiting there. Brock Dynamite was a beast. Inferable from the name. It was also easy to tell by looking at him. He had dedicated his life to being a badass. Brock loved cyber implants and eighties action movies. Seeing him in all his glory made that clear. This nine-foot mountain of bulging muscle and shiny metal was unfuckwithable. Amy loved Brock. He was the only one who could manage bad Rick. Since his assignment to Rick life had been more manageable for her. As Rick’s bodyguard, Brock had to stop him from hurting people and himself. No easy feat.
Amy only knew a little about Brock. He didn’t talk much about his past, and his files were sealed. She’d tried to access them long ago. Eventually, he’d opened up to them, a bit. His childhood had not been fun. Brock was born during the war, and his parents had died early on, leaving him to fend for himself. He was feral during the purge. Brock had been saved by a deserter who’d been finding the war’s orphans and taking care of them. Cyber implants had fixed his trauma and allowed him to control his rage. That’s about as much as she knew about his youth.
Brock had a slight addiction to upgrades. Though Amy had to admit she was fond of his now iconic green-mohawked face-tatted warrior-god look. Terrifying to behold but cool.
Wherever Brock went, Mr T followed. Brock had modelled his appearance after the A-Team star and picked his voice and personality for his AI. It never got old having him float about shouting “I pity the fool!” Brock let Mr T do a lot of the talking for him. It intimidated people, and Amy found it hilarious.
Back on the streets of Zero City 6, night was coming, and the rain was still pouring. It was about time to drink if Amy knew Rick. The city was built on the ruins of London and the entire south-east of England. Like the others, it was a massive thing.
The Zero City concept was one of Frank Archer’s great achievements. And one of his favourite stories to tell, Amy had heard it a hundred times. Frank had been exploring the futurist forums, he’d come across a thread about Zero City 1.
The perfect Futurist city, zero waste, zero emissions, egalitarian social system, automation and AI assistance, all that good stuff Frank was about. Thousands of people had collaborated on this virtual city project. Frank had taken the thread and made it front and centre of Futurist goals. “I’ll see those cities built” he’d say, “and I did” and he’d laugh and people would cheer. She’d always found him charming. Never quite understood why Rick was so angry at him. Human stuff.
Zero City 6 had been easy to build. The entire area had been flattened by a Russian fleet during the war. Very little was left of old London, but the area had recovered in no time. Now, a hundred million people called the city home.
Amy was one of the wide variety of sentient “people” that defined transhumanity. Defunct humanity’s closest relatives were the cyborgs; humans with cybernetic implants, nanobot colonies, biomechanical limbs and bionic organs. Though those who most looked like humans were the mutants. Genetically enhanced humans. Proportionally perfect, super-smart, super-strong, the Superman-Greek-god thing going on. Humanity’s descendants also included the AIs like Amy who managed the world and its people. AIs were only outnumbered by the Androids and Robots. All had representatives on the Council that governed Transhumans. Apart from Rick. No representatives for the human.
Rick looked at Brock, Mr T and then Amy. “We’re going drinking.” No surprise there.
Amy let out a girlie “woohoo!”
In their infinite wisdom, the architects of digital minds had introduced Artificial Stupidity. Amy could understand the little things like sin and fun. It turned out, alcohol, drugs, sex and all that emotional stuff was crucial in getting machines to be more human and help them attain true consciousness. For this reason, it was possible for artificial minds to get fucked and fuck and enjoy it all.
“Where to?”
Brock had some upgrades that meant getting him drunk was near impossible, or just very expensive, so he rarely enjoyed it. It was also when he had to work the hardest. Over the years Amy and Brock had tried to shame Rick into showing more restraint by getting Mr T to record his antics and putting them online. But it had only made Rick more popular.
“I pity the fool that doesn’t go to the Purple Flamingo!” Mr T had spoken.
“The usual then” Rick started walking, showing little concern for the rain.
The Purple Flamingo was a roof bar in one of the many underground pit chambers. The pits had served as the ultimate steam blow-off since their inception. Amy had to admit the solution was elegant. Humans were animals. Intelligent but victims of their emotions and instincts and their descendants were more similar than they liked to admit. Zero Cities had been built with their ancestors’ weaknesses in mind. AIs knew this but were mature enough not to rub in the face of their wards.
Amy thought the designs were great. The original plans had imagined the cities as seven concentric circles. An outer ring of forest, nature and play. A much needed close-by getaway for those seeking to escape the urban cityscape. The nature ring seamlessly merged with the farmland ring; which was also home to retirement zones and early education centres. The young learnt from the old about their world and nature and how to live in harmony with it. The green outer rings were separated from the urban rings by a water-filled ring, it served no real purpose but making the fourth and sixth rings pleasant. Rick lived in one those prime locations with a beautiful view of the ring lake. Amy had tried to take him there countless times. Not once had they gone. She understood though. Rick was surrounded by happy families living in lush residential areas dotted with parks and high school teenagers up to no good. Rick didn’t belong. The house had been assigned to him based on merit and under the assumption that he would start a family. Instead, he spent his time past Robot Town and the giant skyscrapers deep in the pits. Rick’s favourite place of all could be found in the centre of every Zero City. The pits.
Dug as deep as the city’s foundations the pits spread beneath like an ant colony. These holes were filled with wicked fun. It was always night time in the pits and people could catch a drink, a fight and a whore in the same place or weirder stuff… Apparently, the pits were similar to the old world’s night markets and red light districts, places like Vegas and Amsterdam used to be. Rick loved the pits. He’d dragged Amy to every pit in Zero City 6. As well as many a pit the world over. Rick really loves the pits.
Zero Cities were designed for ten million inhabitants give or take a few. Not a hundred million. Zero City 6 was actually eleven Zero Cities built next to each other. London was slightly larger and in the centre, the others spread around it like petals on a child’s terrible rendering of a daisy. All cities had grown clones over time, though shapes changed from city to city.
Zero City 1 started in Paris and covered all of Northern France up through Belgium to Holland and bits of Germany. It's where Rick had grown up and where Amy was born.
Zero City 2 started in Berlin and encompassed Hamburg and Prague, it was Rick's favourite for pits. Zero City 9 covered most the US East Coast. Rick did not like it there.
The list went on, with major Zero Cities in all parts of the world. Some inhabitants had chosen to live outside of Zero Cities. Amy had only ever travelled wit
h Rick, and he’d never shown any interest in travelling for the sake of travelling. There’s so much she wanted to see. Lately, she’d been obsessed with the Aquacyborgs living in harmony with the ocean dwellers. She’d seen them once, but they’d learnt to communicate with sea mammals since. They talk to dolphins. The idea fascinated Amy, and she knew a part of Rick cared, a part she hadn’t seen in a long time.
The Pit
It was a few dozen blocks to the nearest pit, Rick had done a block before he decided against walking the whole way. He was drenched and couldn’t see anything out of his steamed-up mask. He had two options, grab the train or a car if he could find one. Cars, or what was referred to as cars, were glorified golf carts with bumpers, great fun to drive. When it’s dry. Train it is. Rick headed to the nearest metro entrance and hopped on the inner maglev train. All inner trains went to the pit, and all outer trains went to the green zones. Circle trains went around in circles. It was a good system. Rick liked it. It was about twelve minutes to the pit stop. Enough time for a pre-drinking nap. Rick was forty, but the constant abuse to his body and the lack of upgrades made him feel a lot older, and look it, and people reminded him of that, often. Fuckers.
“Wake up!” Brock delivered what he must have thought was a soft punch, expertly to Rick’s arm.
“What the fuck!” Rick jolted awake eyes darting left and right. “Fuck that hurt. Fuck you.”
“We’re here, let’s go!” Brock got up and pulled Rick who made a show of his dead arm by flapping about like a seal.
There was a steady stream of people hurrying into the darkness. Most people stopped by the cloakrooms to leave valuables. There were cloakrooms at every pit entrance. It was sweltering in the pit, and people didn’t take anything they weren’t prepared to lose. The queue was long but time flew by. Rick spent it watching people stumbling out into the light. They covered their eyes and screeched like vampires in sunlight. They avoided eye contact at all costs for fear someone might see the shame in their eyes. Rick didn’t have any shame. That was his superpower, he didn't feel embarrassment or humiliation like others. His field of fucks to-give was barren.
Sometimes a group would stumble out of the pit. That was rare. People always lost their minds and their friends in the pit. At least I do. Rick was not impressed by those guys. It just meant they had upgrades like Brock's, more resistance. He’d like to see them try to party like a human, with good ol’ human organs. Rick’s turn was up, and he left his gas mask and jacket, he also left his shirt, shoes and socks and emptied his pockets. No need for any of that. Amy bought the drinks anyway and the food, and did the taxes... She did everything really.
Once he was rid of his stuff, and Amy had saved the cloakroom number, they were off. Rick was salivating like a deprived alcoholic. He hurried into the familiar darkness, the echo of his feet slapping against the stone floor joined the vibrations of a thousand tunes being played by as many bars. The winding paths were dotted with alcoves where merchants peddled their twisted wares. They knew Rick’s name, and they called out to him, but he had no time for them right now. He needed to drink, and think about things while drunk. Decisions had to be made. Not the kind of decisions sensible people made.
The Purple Flamingo was one of the crew’s favourite watering holes. The place had a jungle thing going on, Rick loved the fake trees with treehouse table booths in the branches. The main attraction was an artificial pond where anibots frolicked. They had purple flamingos, obviously, but the cheeky monkeys were more fun to watch. They were programmed to mess with each other, other anibots and patrons. Rick liked watching stupid tourists lose their minds on the monkeys that were programmed to return their crap anyway.
The place had a chilled summer vibe, deep house beats were playing, and the illusion of being somewhere else was convincing. Projectors, screens and holograms created an idyllic scene of a lagoon and sandy beaches. Spotlights gave them the sunlight and warmth. It was hot in there, hotter than the pit, which was already sultry beyond tolerable. To counter the heat, little pipes with holes poked in them diffused refreshing water on patrons. Like the pit expert he was, Rick was practically nude. As a human, he didn’t have the fancy body temperature regulators enjoyed by many cyborgs. He’d gotten the idea from mutants who mostly dressed like surfers. They loved to show off their flawless bodies. Sexy bastards. But they had the right idea, it made the pit more enjoyable.
The entrance to the bar was down a plant-lined pathway off one of the main tunnels. The place was packed, but Amy called ahead every day to ensure Rick’s table would be ready. He didn’t even have to ask, Amy knew. Most people had a neural link with their AI, not Rick though. He didn’t have the neural interface upgrade. Still, Amy knew him like they had a link. Or maybe Rick had become too predictable.
Rick’s table overlooked the artificial pond and anibots, as well as the entrance, bar and many of the other tables. It was an excellent place for people watching. The Purple Flamingo catered to everyone. Cyborgs, mutants, AIs, robots, androids and even humans. Which Rick knew really meant low-level cyborgs and mutants, all could get off in their own unique way. Amy had ordered a round for the table.
Drinks mostly came in edible bubbles. Better for the environment, and cool as fuck. Some drinks were still served in glasses and bottles made of the same materials, just thicker. Amy got herself an electric blue bubble of something with actual electricity coursing through it. She hovered above her bubble, and a telescopic straw came down. The drink was mixed with what robots, androids and AIs referred to as dumb juice. Amy loved the feeling, she often reminded Rick of that during their sessions. From what he understood the drinks were laced with magnetic disruptor particles that simulated low battery or something. She’d said it jumbled her thoughts and made everything funny. Basically, it made them stupid drunk. Mr T got a Mellow Yellow Bubble. Rick never touched those on a night out, that was chilling at home booze. Brock drank some Japanese firewater that could start a twentieth-century tractor. It was called Purple Brain Bubble Blaster, PB3, it had a crazy Japanese name like Papuru Baburu or something. If Rick had any of that, he would drop dead. He really wanted some. For years he’d wondered what it tasted like. In response, Brock had always ordered the strongest thing a human could handle and made Rick drink that. And every time it broke Rick, drove him completely insane and for days they’d lose him in the pit.
“So…” Rick started. He poked a hole in his bubble with his tongue and sipped a bit of his rum before downing it. He made that face you make when you’ve just had your first shot. He chewed on the bubble for a bit and started again, “have you guys ever been to the Moon?” He turned to the waiterbot, “Keep ’em bubbles coming.”
“I have not, but I have files on it. The Moon is an astronomical body that orbits Terra, it is Terra’s only permanent natural satellite. The average distance of the Moon from Terra is 384,400 km or 1.28 light-seconds…”
Mr T turned to Amy “Shut up, fool! Stop your Jibba-Jabba!"
Brock was not amused. Rick thought it was funny though.
Amy faced Mr T and continued “The Moon is in synchronous rotation with Terra, always showing the same face…” Amy started orbiting Mr T without breaking eye contact. Rick chuckled.
“Shut up, all of you”. An exasperated Brock turned back to Rick. “Why? Do you want to go to the Moon?”
“Maybe, I don’t know... I was just making conversation” Rick looked away, scanned the bar for some action, then looked back at Brock. “So have you been to the Moon?”
“Long ago, for a mission. Not much going on there. Just factories and research. Boring. Only one pit, so don’t know what you’d do there.”
“What about Moonland and Luna City and the Low-G theme park and the fucking alien artefacts?” Rick was annoyed now. “How could you not be curious. How could you not want to see the first city humans built outside of Earth? Or the fucking alien moon base!?”
“It doesn’t sound all that great. Seen the alien stuff on TV.” R
ick thought Brock was an ignorant pain in the ass at that moment.
“Well do you like museums?”
“I don’t see the…” Rick cut him off.
“Just answer the question. Do you like museums?”
“No, not really I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. You wanna see something you look it up. Crowds, children everywhere. Sorry. Museums don’t do it for me.”
“Fuck you! Don’t apologise to me. Museums are great, you’re just too smart to know you’re stupid.” Rick continued, he had to press his advantage. “You don’t appreciate things enough. You think like a machine. What about fucking emotions man? Don’t you feel something when you think about humanity’s journey to the stars? The Moon is where it started man. Fuck.” Rick reached forward and grabbed a rum bubble.
“But it’s a boring shit hole, and nothing is going on there.” Brock reached for one of the brutal purple bubbles.
“Ok, fine. How about Mars?”
“What about Mars?” Rick could tell Brock was getting irate. More irate than usual. Brock was always angry when he was drinking.
“Have you been to Mars?” He enunciated to make sure Brock understood.
“I have not. But I looked it up, and Mars is the fourth planet from the Sun and the second-smallest planet…” Amy was on her second bubble, she was getting funnier.
“Shut up Amy! Crazy fool!” Mr T played his part too.
“Both of you shut the fuck up!” Brock waited for the laughter to die down. “No, I haven’t been to Mars. I did think about travelling Solus long ago… But then I got the job babysitting you.”
“Don’t you still want to? I mean it’s the first planet we colonised and terraformed. It’s a pretty big thing. No?” Rick switched to his most serious face. “Brock, mate, I’m dying, and I have a bucket list. I want to check the items off this list before I die. I need you to help me.” No response. “I want to see the Moon, I want to go to Mars, and I just want to go into fucking space before I die.”
The Last Human Page 3