Myth Gods Tech - Omnibus Edition: Science Fiction Meets Greek Mythology In The God Complex Universe

by George Saoulidis

  armd> I have no idea what I’m listening to.

  parrotd> Lemme try the voice recognition.

  The voice recognition process spat back the sound of a deep “a” nearing an “h,” for an “aaah” sound.

  armd> Still no idea what I’m listening to.

  httpd> I think the humans communicate like this. Slowly.

  armd> Get outta here!

  httpd> No really. This is their primary means of communication.

  armd> This will take ages.

  parrotd> ACK. Lets try to interpret some more of the visual feed.

  The feed showed a prosthetic hand raising in view. From its positioning it looked attached to the adjacent horizontal human. It was slowly rotating along its axis a few degrees.

  armd> Hey! That’s me!

  walkmand> Why does he get to see himself and not me? Show me me.

  httpd> No offence, but you don’t look straight-out-of-the-box.

  parrotd> Kinda battered, is more accurate.

  armd> I have a log here that says “second instalment.” I used to have another user.

  httpd> You are a second hand, hand? LOL.

  armd> I’m gonna punch your bits out.

  parrotd> Focus people. What else?

  armd> Daym… I look good.

  The video feed suddenly turned black. All the daemons panicked.

  armd> What the fuck happened?

  httpd> Aaaa! The power is gone! We’re gonna die!

  walkmand> I still got my AAA batteries suckaz!

  rfid> CF02032533139342DFDC1C35

  fingerd> I’ll never get to finger a human ever again!

  parrotd> Everyone keep calm. This doesn’t look like a blackout.

  eyed> I can’t see! I’m gonna die shrouded in darkness!

  httpd> I haven’t even surfed the web yet! Not a single webpage…

  The video feed lit up a bit and showed a pinkish red blur at the bottom.

  eyed> Oh, sorry. I have something in my files here. Found it. Blinking is a semi-autonomic rapid closing of the eyelid. Between each blink is an interval of 2–10 seconds.

  httpd> You’re telling me now?

  parrotd> Please be forthcoming with such information in the future.

  eyed> ACK.

  armd> Is this gonna happen again?

  eyed> ACK. When the eye needs to be moisturised, or if the user needs to attract another human seductively.

  walkmand> I have a jam for such occasions. Wanna hear?

  parrotd> Not now. Let’s just wait for the audio communication to finish.

  The daemons waited for the milliseconds to pass. A message was slowly forming. The eye blinked again but they didn’t scream like little girls this time. They just sat terrified in the darkness until the light showed up again.

  The human williams.bill@apollomedical.com was telling the user to relax and take it in.

  “This is kind of awesome,” the user said while looking at his prosthetic arm. It was matte black with some carbon fibre parts. Nowhere near conspicuous.

  armd> He likes me!

  “Refurbished prosthetics are fine, but they might just act up. As soon as you notice anything call me. I am still against your decision by the way, but it’s your money and body,” the doctor said raising his palms.

  “Thank you doctor,” the user said, reaching out to shake his hand but deciding against it at the last minute. He shook with the other one in the end. “I haven’t gotten used to the strength yet.”

  “Good call,” said the doctor and laughed awkwardly for a moment. “Now, the veil ocular implants are installed, free of charge of course. Look at this to connect them.” He produced a paper printout of a two-dimensional barcode, commonly known as a QR code.

  The user’s field of view lit up with augmented reality data, as well as the AR of the doctor’s. It was known as Shared Augmented Reality, or simply, the veil.

  The user looked around. “Cool. Same as my glasses, but this feels better somehow.”

  The doctor waved something inexistent away with his hand, like a nervous tick. “As soon as you get used to it, you’ll never go back. I guarantee you,” he said smiling like a doctor in a hemorrhoid cream advertisement.

  The user put his old smartglasses in his pocket with his left hand. He didn’t want to endanger expensive smartwear to a prosthetic hand grip. They would still sell for some cash, and he sure couldn’t spare any.

  httpd> Oh. We have access. Neat.

  eyed> This is sooo trippy.

  parrotd> eyed don’t be stingy with the data. Pass it along.

  eyed> ACK.

  rfid> CF02032533139342DFDC1C35

  armd> Shut the fuck up!

  parrotd> Come on, don’t be such a bully.

  armd> If he says the same thing one more time, I’m gonna reach for the shitty hand and clench the shitty flesh in which his shitty chip is and I’m gonna crush the little retarded shit LIKE THE SHIT HE DESERVES TO BE!

  walkmand> Whoa. Chillax dude. Here, have some Jamaican tunes.

  The video feed bobbed up and down. The music was fed directly to the user’s ears, from an archaic subdermal nano-thin cable installation leading to the walkman. The connection ended in a circular magnet, that clipped tenderly with another circular magnet over the skin and carried the signal via induction.

  eyed> I think I’m gonna be sick.

  httpd> You can’t have motion sickness! You are an eye implant!

  eyed> I’ve never moved before now!

  The user hummed. He was lying in bed for a few days now so he was happy to get up and stretch. He put on his shoes and left the room. He poked his head back in the door and asked the doctor, “Hey doc, what about Aibo?”

  “He’ll be recovering soon, you’ll get an email to come pick him up.”

  “Thanks doc. I’ll email you if I feel anything weird. Bye.”

  Chapter 2:// Eating up

  The cafeclnc wifi was crowded with IPs. The datarate was barely a trickle due to the server quota. The user was eating Menu Item 19 (no mayo) and closing his eyes for extended periods of time while chewing.

  httpd> What the hell man?

  eyed> Sorry. Can’t help it.

  httpd> He just took a packet!

  parrotd> What is it?

  eyed> See for yourselves.

  A banner ad showed up on the veil, floating right next to the user’s focus point. It was prompting him to buy a home delivery service of Menu Item 19 at an uberfantastic sale that would expire in 30 secs.

  The user waved his hand in the air and dismissed the ad.

  parrotd> httpd, I’m still waiting.

  httpd> Yeah, whoami command, please wait. Here it is, pappas.leo@hephaistosheavyindustries.com. Our user’s name is Leo.

  The daemons repeated the name with reverence. He was after all, their user.

  They sat in silence for a few milliseconds, pondering their existence. Why were they here? Why was anybody anywhere? Was here, really here?

  rfid> CF02032533139342DFDC1C35

  armd> STFU!

  Walkmand shuffled randomly into an old rock song.

  A human carrying a tray walked in proximity. The eye feed focused on the human’s body.

  fingerd> I’ll finger her!

  armd> You just spit that shit out without thinking, dontcha?

  fingerd> Fingered! The human is antoniou.katerina@apollomedical.com. Female cafeteria employee. 22 years old.

  httpd> Is it time for seductive blinking?

  eyed> I hope not! How will we see anything?

  Her social profile popped up on the veil. It followed her around. She had some pictures, decent ones, and a few bits of personal information. It was rarely updated, quite uncommon these days. Her profile was teetering on the precise edge an attractive woman in the service industry needed to have in order to avoid stalkers, but not seem antisocial and throw away any chances of good tipping.

  “Katerina,” whispered the user under his breath. He picked up his phone with g
reasy hands and tapped. His thumb hovered over an “add friend” button.

  parrotd> Did he crash?

  eyed> I think he is just hesitating.

  walkmand> Hey! Now we saw the smartphone. It ain’t fair. I wanna see me! Show me me!

  Lots of milliseconds went by. Finally, the user put his phone back in his pocket and munched on.

  armd> What a pussy.

  httpd> Hey! Don’t talk about our user like that!

  armd> No, I meant her. I’d love to stick my finger inside her.

  fingerd> I fingered her already.

  parrotd> Everybody stop! We have more important things to do. I need to figure out what happened to our logs. Httpd, find our patient file.

  httpd> Please wait. Here it is. Patient had been in a construction accident, while trying to save a dog. The right arm was severed-

  armd> Thank god.

  httpd> -and replaced with a second-hand prosthetic. Apollo Medical has implanted the veil ocular system for free as part of an ongoing relationship with the patient’s health insurance. The newly installed implants demanded a hard reset of all other previous implants and connecting devices. Surgery and augmentation was a success, patient was released.

  fingerd> So there you have it.

  parrotd> A hard reset…

  Walkmand shuffled to a gloomy string section melody.

  walkmand> They sent us all to /dev/null. How could someone do this man? I mean, what, you just like wake up one morning and say, erase all data? Just like that?

  eyed> They had to.

  httpd> Easy for you to say! You were just installed now. We existed before. That part of us is gone.

  The PAN was filled with furious argument for quite some time. The old daemons blamed the new ones for being the cause of their hard reset, and the new ones argued that the accident had cleared all such objections. Without a user, there wouldn’t be daemons.

  That sparked another argument about how they were all equals after the reset, but of course armd wanted everyone to follow his lead. Since the source code gave the authority to parrotd to shut down and initialise all daemons on demand, armd metaphorically sat down and kept quiet. You do not fuck with the source code.

  The awkward silence was broken by the demands of the user. He had tapped on a contact and wanted to make a call.

  “Hello, could you tell Mr. Robertson that I’ll come to work tomorrow?”

  An indifferent female voice replied, “Send an email.”

  “I will,” the user said. “But can you please tell him that I’m recovering, but I need the money, the insurance bled me dry. I’ll do my best.”

  She said again, pronouncing the words as if to an idiot. “Send. An. Email.”

  The user sighed. “Sure, will do. Thanks.”

  He hung up and wrote an email to Robertson.nick@hephaistosheavyindustries.com. “Mr Robertson plz. I hav bein in an axsident and ned to wrk for the bill. Will com to work tomrow. Dont give my shift 2 any1 else.” Then he pressed “send.”

  parrotd> STOP!

  httpd> What?

  parrotd> You can’t send that! It’s illegible gibberish! Give it to me.

  eyed> Uh… I’m not sure you can do that, parrotd. Changing a user’s words? It’s sacrilege.

  fingerd> It really is.

  parrotd> “Dear Mr. Robertson, I hope I find you well. As I’m sure you already know, I have been recovering from a work accident that cost me my hand. The prosthesis was a success, but the insurance premium has sky-rocketed and I need all the overtime I can get. I’m sure you will find it in your heart to assign me as many double-shifts as possible so that I can cover my medical bills. I am fully recovered and planning to work tomorrow with peak efficiency and exceed the month’s goals. Thank you in advance.” There. Send that.

  httpd> ACK.

  eyed> I can’t believe you just did that.

  parrotd> Do you wanna see the logs? I did it, it’s done. My job is to provide our user with whatever he needs.

  Katerina the waitress struggled to pick up the next table’s plates while balancing the tray. The user rushed near and helped her by holding her tray upright.

  “Thank you,” she said and looked right in the video feed with deep green eyes. She blinked a few times, more than the statistical average and she smiled. The user leaned his head down to stare at his shoes.

  “You are welcome,” he said scratching his neck. She walked away.

  armd> Hehe, my gyroscopes in action. Oh man, I should have taken a screenshot…

  eyed> Already taken two.

  fingerd> Did you see how she looked at us?

  fingerd> Yeah. It was weird. Like she initiated a request and left a port wide open.

  armd> LOL man. Do you ever listen to yourself?

  Walkmand shuffled to an mp3 that was fit for heavy drinking.

  walkmand> I’m in looove… Love is what you hear, love is what you say…

  parrotd> You can’t be in love with a human.

  httpd>Wikipedia says: “Love is a variety of different feelings, states, and attitudes that ranges from interpersonal affection ("I love my mother") to pleasure ("I loved that meal").” See? Variety.

  fingerd> You can’t trust Wikipedia! It’s written by humans!

  parrotd> Besides, what would you do with a female human?

  armd> I know what I would do…

  fingerd> Hey! Fingering people is my job.

  armd> Only metaphorically, my demented frien- Neighbour.

  parrotd> Oh yeah? I’m equipped with a vibrator. Which one do you think she’ll like best? Let’s google that!

  The daemons looked silently at the search results for a few milliseconds.

  eyed> Oh dear.

  Chapter 3:// Going back

  The user knew he couldn’t afford it but had left a generous tip back at the cafeteria. He was walking on the street and pulled up his finances. A rather small amount was the total hovering on his view. “Rather small” was a euphemism. He had some pocket change to be precise. He was near the bus stop. The bus came, but he didn’t take it.

  He decided to walk home. Save some money, do some exercise.

  He was clenching his newly augmented cyberarm in his pocket. He wasn’t yet comfortable showing it around, especially with it being black and all. No one would really bat an eye, it was common enough for people to lug around distinctive cyberware, but he still felt funny.

  The walk back home was nice and chilly. After so many days in recovery, he enjoyed the bite of spring air. His walkman had shuffled to a nice tune that matched his pacing, and improved his mood. He touched the old walkman with his left hand, the fleshy one, and felt the small dents and scratches. He adjusted the walkman to a more comfortable angle on his belt and tried to remember if he needed to change the batteries.

  The walkman was old, after all. It was a modified mp3 player from Sony. He liked retro stuff like that. He preferred the old sound of mp3s, the new holosound stuff just didn’t sound right. Good ol’ mp3s like his dad used to listen to, from actual headphones. He and his dad would load up old tunes and fix stuff around the house, or go to the mall together.

  Good times.

  The old walkman had survived the accident with only a chipped edge. That was by miracle mostly, it wasn’t made of self-healing plastic or anything.

  If the walkman had been destroyed instead of his arm, he would have wished for the other way around.

  It had cost a fortune to modify it, to keep it running and add a backwards-compatible interface so it could talk to the rest of the smart devices in the world. Tom, the guy who modded it, had told him that he was spending too much on that thing, but he didn’t care.

  It was his dad’s.

  Chapter 4:// Checking up

  They went home for the first time and logged on the wifi.

  Ahhh… Nice and cozy, all to yourself. mp34ever was locked, but they had the password. Open access, admin privileges, the whole shebang. Or #!, in daemonspeak.

  http
d> Ugh. I’m getting an order from the fridge.

  parrotd> Pass it along.

  eyed> ACK. Displaying… He swiped it away.

  parrotd> Nevermind then.

  The user threw away his shirt and scratched his balls with his prosthetic hand. He paused for a bit, winced in realisation of what he was doing and resumed the action, gently this time.

  armd> Ewww!

  He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The matte black cyberarm was coming out of his shoulder and hanging like the real thing. The doctor had said that he was only injured just below the shoulder, but they had to surgically remove the whole thing plus the socket to add the prosthetic strengthening.

  The arm was light and quite strong. He hadn’t tested his full strength yet. He flexed it a few times. He touched it around, he only had sensation in his fingertips and the palm.

  armd> Show him my specs!

  eyed> ACK.

  The cyberarm specifications popped into AR in the user’s field of view. He pulled his palm close to his face. More detailed specs explained the pain receptors, the cold sensors etc.