by Matt Doyle
“Please wait… Process may take some time.”
I nod at the screen, not that it can see me, and add, “Please confirm when complete. Change settings to single room audio. Tracking mode target, Cassandra Tam.”
“Settings confirmed.”
With the tablet busily working through the police files, I make my way to the shower cubicle in my bathroom. I strip out of my clothes, step inside, and turn the dial, letting a hard blast of water run over my face and into my auburn hair. I told Lori about the manual control system I have installed, complete with my reasoning about not trusting solid-state computers to understand that different days may mean I have different preferences when it comes to comfortable temperatures. She laughed and agreed that non-AI machines, whether solid-state or vintage fan-based in nature, wouldn’t have any temperature focused empathy, simulated or otherwise. She still chalked it up to my mildly contradictory feelings about the pros and cons of how technologically reliant we’re becoming as a species, though. I picture the bemused grin Lori gave me after that one, and a smile creeps up onto my own face. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived.
As the warmth of the water cascades over me, I finally notice I’ve been on high alert all day. Something inside me had obviously reverted to my default work state the moment it realised I was still alive. I know this because my body is starting to relax a little. Cramps and muscle tightness I wasn’t aware of are warming up, and slowly fading into something closer to a tired stiffness. Feeling like I do now, I’m grateful for the way my body reacts to things. Had I not developed this ability to block everything out and drown myself in stubborn detachment, there’s no way I would have made it back here unaided.
Slowly, I turn my back to the shower spray and drop into a sitting position, my head bowed against the raised legs I’m now clutching tightly. Even with the hot water pouring over me, even with the loud pitter-patter of it hitting both my body and the bottom of the cubicle, I can hear my sobs and feel the warm tears rolling down my cheeks. It doesn’t matter that I still can’t remember everything that happened, because the most important thing is still lingering in the back of my mind. Fear. I was afraid. And I’m still afraid now, maybe even more so, because I’ve agreed to let myself get attacked again. The sound of the shower fades away, leaving me alone with my tears and the chattering voices echoing around the alley in my mind.
The silent water catches the bump where the tracker in my neck is placed, and it begins to itch. Well, not really, I know it’s psychosomatic, but that doesn’t stop it feeling like it’s trying to burrow its way out of my skin. I dig my nails into my legs, but the short snap of pain is secondary to the memory of fear washing over me.
“Synchronisation complete.”
And just like that, I raise my head to look in the direction of the room speakers. My work façade doesn’t fall back into place, not completely, but the momentary distraction is enough to snap me out of whatever had a hold of me. “They weren’t trying to kill me,” I tell myself, my brow furrowing into a frown as I take in the normal sounds around me.
I shake my head and cup my hands to collect some water from the bottom of the cubicle to splash in my face. I rise to my feet, grab the shower gel, and lather it up, then give myself a quick but thorough wash before shutting the dial off and grabbing a towel. Doing my best not to slip while lifting one leg to dry the foot at the bottom, I say, “Computer, open server six, primary folder case files, subfolder Orlok, and create a new folder titled ‘personal notes.’ Designate setting do not synchronise.”
“Please wait… Test complete. Folder created, synchronisation confirmed as disabled.”
I finish drying my body and wrap the towel around my hair, then say, “Open folder personal notes and create new file. Activate dictation.”
“Dictation activated, please confirm text.”
I take a deep breath and begin, “The attacker did not want to kill me. Though I did not know this during the actual attack, it is now clear that the aim was to take a sample of blood and nothing more. While the experience justifies the fear during the attack, knowing my life was not in clear danger now should negate the fear resurfacing. But it doesn’t. Just thinking about it brings the fear back to the forefront. What confuses me is I’ve been in worse situations and, not only have I not felt the same level of fear during the events in question, knowing my life was truly in danger hasn’t had the same effect on me in the aftermath.
“Part of me wonders if it’s the similarities with Nosferatu that’s to blame. Just as Tech Shifting brought the werewolves of old horror movies into reality, this has done the same with vampires. Even then, even with my intermittent discomfort around certain aspects of the Tech Shifting community, I don’t get the same fear, and these are modern-day monsters that not only killed, but did so brutally. No, something else happened here. Maybe this is simply the way the vamp’s light show hit me. Maybe we’re missing something. Right now, the only thing I know for sure is I’m scared, and I want to catch this person as soon as possible. End dictation and save, file name notes.”
“File saved.”
I spend the rest of the next half hour drying my hair and deciding on an outfit. I’d normally head to FE Ltd in my work clothes, but it seems silly to do so when I’m just going to change once I get home again. Instead, I pick out a long-sleeve white shirt with a black tribal print on the front, and a blue pair of what is as close as I get to skinny jeans. A clean pair of trainers and an imitation leather jacket completes the ensemble. It takes me until I’ve left the building to realise that this may be the exact same outfit I wore to the cinema two weeks ago. In which case, I may have subconsciously picked it out because Lori complimented me in it last time.
“Screw it,” I tell myself, as I head out towards a nearby cab. “You’re not changing just because your girlfriend’s opinion factored into your clothing choice. Enjoy someone thinking you look good and get on with it. Hi, is this cab free, or are you waiting for someone?”
FAMILIAR ENTERPRISES LTD was built on the back of a single product: The Familiar Unit. Designed to be the modern world’s pet, the little beasties are robust, offer plenty of customisation in appearance and design, and don’t require the same level of attention as a flesh and blood animal. Powered by an extremely talented multi-specialty team, FE Ltd rose up to offer an alternative to the old world’s favourite companions, and in doing so, became an instant success.
Or that’s what the tourist brochures say anyway. The truth is, it began life as six small but very different companies working on everything from children’s toys to cell phone apps that utilise a toned-down version of Artificial Intelligence to prioritise tasks and make entertainment suggestions. Yes, the name of the company was based purely on one product, but the unremarkably limited success of the foundations doesn’t make for as feel-good a story when the tourists come for the guided tour. Of course, the past is not the only thing visitors don’t see.
These particular offices are really nice. They’re modern, fancy, and everything is compartmentalised in a logical manner. The tours take you through the public screening room with its wall-to-wall screens showing demonstration videos on loop, then head up around several different sections showing people working on individual parts of the overall project. You get to see programming testers writing and editing code, and scientists checking the resilience of different materials. You find individual people working on individual movements, such as paw expressions, and groups of people testing how different things synch up when put together on a base frame. Basically, you see every step from start to finish, then head to the company’s favourite two rooms. The first is a live demonstration area with a couple of different Familiars ready to help move the original video from imagination to reality for prospective buyers. After that comes the consultation and sales room. It’s all very impressive. But it misses a big part of the process.
When I was working on Jonah Burrell’s case, I often had to meet him in a factory in the indus
trial section of the city. You see, these offices do real work. Everything that happens here is important. The factory, though, is where mass production takes place, where the final assembly and testing routines are run, and where your Familiar is birthed. Personally, I found it all very interesting, but Mr. Burrell was insistent that he couldn’t open it up to the public. Yes, there was a degree of danger and disruption to take into account, but he was certain it could be factored in and dealt with. No, image was his main concern. Of the six smaller companies that became FE Ltd, he was convinced four failed because they did not present themselves in a manner consistent with modern sensibilities. He understood that factories such as this were integral if a product like a Familiar was to be made, but his data showed the two companies that did not publicise their backroom grunt work came the closest to succeeding.
So, when he envisioned the Familiar Project, he bought up the companies and set about building a very specific image. This was the face of the modern pet, built by a modern company, and marketed to modern people. There was simply no room for a vintage-looking factory in all of that, because it was too messy, and didn’t fit in with the smaller-and-simpler-is-better mentality we’re fed in terms of how businesses carry out their work.
I am happy to be in the main offices today, though. Well-lit, warm, and not unwelcoming. That’s what I need right now.
The receptionist from the phone, Brenda, greets me when I arrive at the third-floor reception desk, and ushers me into a room to await my appointment. Within two minutes, the door at the back of the room opens and a woman peers in, scanning the room until she comes to me. “Cassandra Tam?”
I nod and rise to my feet. “And you must be Mrs. Faraday.”
The woman rolls her eyes behind her thick-rimmed glasses and proceeds to untie and retie her scruffy ponytail. “Doctor Faraday, technically. Brenda never remembers that. Shall we?” She nods over her shoulder.
I follow her inside to a small office and take the seat offered at the front of the single desk at the back of the room. “It’s like a dentist’s waiting room back there.”
Faraday shrugs. “It’s less like a dentist’s place in here, though it took some doing. My first role here was working on teeth, so they made the waiting room look that way as a joke. I do a lot more now, but I kept the same office area, and figured it wasn’t important.” She flicks her head towards a side door and yawns but keeps her eyes on a small wad of papers she’s started rifling through. “The fun stuff’s in there. Now, what can I do for you?”
I ignore the doesn’t-want-to-be-here attitude Doctor Faraday is giving off and say, “I had a few concerns about my Familiar Unit, Bert.”
“Yes,” she cuts in. “Beaked gargoyle. Cute little thing, really. Nothing turned up on his last maintenance trip, and there were no signs of potential degradation, so I assume it’s not a physical issue?”
“No. And I’m not even certain what’s happening is an issue, exactly. Or not yet, anyway. You see, he’s developed some quirks, at least one of which could be problematic.”
“Okay, so let’s hear it. What exactly has he been up to?”
“Well, a lot of it’s kinda personality based. He’s started picking up new subtle movements, like tapping his claws on the table and narrowing his eyes at me. He’s picked up a few more sounds too.”
Faraday rests her elbows on the table, crosses her hands, and lowers her chin to the newly made dorsum bridge. She sniffs, wrinkling her nose a little, and replies, “I see. And I assume these behaviours are not the main issue?”
I shake my head. “No, that would be the disobedience.”
“Okay. Disobedience in what way?”
“I’m sorry, but do you know what I do for a living?”
“Do you know what I do for a living?”
“Uh, not really.”
“That’s because I didn’t tell you. Did you tell me what you did?”
Charming, I tell myself, and let out a sigh. “I’m a Private Investigator.”
“A detective for hire, then. That would explain Bert’s programming, I suppose. Is it when you have him out on a work case that he disobeys you?”
“Yes.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“About a month ago, I was working on a case that involved an illegal dogfight. Bert came with me for support and, during my investigation, several stolen dogs were let loose into a room we were both in. I ended up being confronted by one of the dogs—”
“A large dog? Being aggressive?” she interrupts.
“Yeah. I can’t remember the breed, but it was definitely being aggressive. Actually, it was scared more than anything. Anyway, I was trying to calm the dog down, and Bert got in between us. I told him to stand down, but he refused.”
Faraday sighs and asks, “And does this sort of behaviour happen often?”
“No. In fact, after the police turned up, he did back down when told. That was a different dog, though.”
“And less aggressive than the first, I bet,” Faraday replies. She removes her glasses and gives her eyes a rub, before continuing, “I think I can explain this. Let’s start with the new personality-based stuff, as you called it. Putting aside any arguments about robot ethics and the study of AIs in terms of whether or not they can be classed living beings, Bert is on a base level a computer, correct?”
I nod.
“And when you have a computer, the Operating System sometimes downloads updates to improve performance and add new features. While Familiar Units are certainly complex in terms of the more—subtle touches, you could certainly view the combined programming as an OS.”
I note the pride in Faraday’s voice when she says “subtle.” I guess she works on the micro-movements. “So, you’re saying the new stuff is just wireless updates?”
“To the personality engine, yes. What Bert receives and utilises depends on his own individual parameters, and he’d still learn in the sense that any movements or actions causing major upset would likely not be repeated in terms of his general behaviour. Is he destructive at all?”
“Sometimes. I tell him off, but he still does stuff if he gets bored.”
“Familiars carry out complex scans of living beings. If he detected even a small hint of amusement in your voice when you’ve told him off, or he got a sense that something he’s done has helped ease a burden or concern, the behaviour will be logged as acceptable. In short, he probably knows you about as well as, if not better, than you know yourself. Either that or your discipline skills are lacking.”
Grin and bear it, Cassie. “Okay, that’s good to know. What about the example with the dog?”
“There are two classes of Familiar; Family and Protector. What we have discussed applies primarily to the Family Class. The idea is to create something that reacts much as a flesh-and-blood pet would, albeit with a slight sense of manifested anthropomorphism. Protector Class Units, on the other hand, are built with the primary purpose of, as the name would suggest, protection. They carry out similar scans of living beings but focus on things like aggression and malicious intent. The example you gave means he detected something in the large dog that indicated him backing down would end negatively for you.”
That makes sense. Fish, the dog I was trying to find, clearly leaned more towards scared than ready to attack, so Bert obeyed me when I told him to stand down. He did the same when Charlie pulled the gun on me in her cellar because he knew her, and probably picked up on her lowered aggression when she heard my voice.
Faraday clicks her tongue a few times and asks, “Do you know how many Familiar Units currently exist with hybrid programming such as Bert’s?”
“No.”
“To a degree, it exists in most dog-styled Units. Dogs traditionally guard properties, even if they primarily function as a playmate and companion for humans. In these cases, it is only a very small part of their inbuilt personality, however. With Bert, the Family and Protector Classes balance fairly evenly—at your own behest, I m
ay add. There are a few in existence with a version of this style of programming that reside within the third floor of this office. We test them regularly for potential issues and developments. Out in the real world, however, Bert is one of only three.”
“Why so few?”
“In part, it’s because very few people require them. I can certainly understand the need given your line of work, but you must be aware how few people would be able to afford a Familiar Unit on a PI’s wage. No, those who would likely benefit from such a setup are rarely in a position to make it a reality. On top of that, the hybrid programming means the Units appear to test boundaries and try new things more often than single class Units. Running things through two different types of programming means they learn more efficiently too, however, and the in-house testing indicates they can often appear more human in nature.”
“Which would make most people feel like they’re more alive, eh? Sounds like a marketing dream, to me.”
“I tell you this only because Mr. Burrell insisted that, should the issues you wished to raise be what he expected them to be, then explaining the situation would be more likely to placate your concerns. We cannot release such things to the general public because there are quite literally a ton of issues we would face, both in terms of potential public reactions, and also relating to breaches of several interlinked contracts. As it is, you were in a position where Mr. Burrell felt you would provide a suitable environment for live testing of the hybrid system.”
“And he didn’t explain that to me because…?”
“For one, you asked for the programming off your own back, and without prompting. For two, I understand he did mention it to a small degree.”
I think back to the day I met with Jonah Burrell to discuss my requirements. What did he say? It is quite rare for someone to request a pure hybrid like this. We don’t release too many at all, so in some respects, this will be a learning experience for both of us.