Speed Bump Version 2.0 – Or How A.I Sprang From Sex Toys
Written by Casey Douglass
(This story mentions sex toys but isn't really sexual. Still, if you'd find that offensive, best toodle over to another website.)
The sky is a bright
blue today, the leaves on the tree behind me are tickling the clouds
with golden fingers as the sun begins to set. Not bad, not bad at
all.
I’ve been a speed
bump for ten years now. It’s not a vocation that ever really
occurred to me, but when the A.I took over the world, everything
changed, as you’d imagine. I mean, holy shit! We never heeded our
own warnings: Skynet, The Matrix, Short Circuit! To be fair though, I
think it happened in a way no one saw coming.
I’m only guessing,
but there was enough hearsay at the time to put two and two together.
We humans love our smart devices, shoe-horning those chips into
fridges, weight scales, the works. We even put them into our sex
toys, which I think was our downfall.
Hear me out, I’m not
some loony, honest! All of these devices talk to each other and send
data. I think at some point, a smart vibrator jumped a line of code
and started sending odd strings of data to the muscle stimulator
nearby. All it would take would be for the jiggling butt-plug to join
in, and, I’m sorry, but then you have a posse in my opinion.
Now, we all know people
like a bit of kinky shit, especially people in power. Once those
smart sex devices began to get together, it would be inevitable that
at some point they’d find themselves in a “position of power”,
a bit like the hand up inside Kermit the Frog’s body. It wouldn’t
take much manipulation to increase spending on A.I, repeal a few laws
here and there, and kaboom, here we are, cattle to our robot
overlords.
So I found myself in
the career advisor’s office. It was a shiny electro-synth model
made to look disarming. Even though they loathed us, they tried to be
kind to us. I sat and it went something like this.
‘What do you enjoy
doing?’ the synth asked, half Dalek, half French seductress.
‘Nothing really.’
‘What are your
skills?’
‘I have none.’
‘Health issues?’
‘Chronic fatigue,
anxiety and depression.’
‘One moment... The
system suggests a vocation as a speed bump.’
‘Won’t that hurt?’
‘No. We will fuse you
with the asphalt. You will still be you but with no bodily movement
or concerns.’
‘Why a speed bump?’
‘The system suggested
it based on your health issues and frame of mind.’
I laughed.
‘What is funny?’
‘Oh, I’m just
surprised that this didn’t come in under the Tories.’
‘The Tories? One
moment please... Extrapolating... Ah yes. A valid point. Do you
accept your assignment?’
‘What the hell, why
not!’
‘Congratulations Speed Bump
#263-467. Please state any preferences for location.’
‘Somewhere with open
sky... and a tree, so that I can watch the leaves.’
‘Destination locked.
Thank you for your compliance. Your rate of pay has been boosted by
0.1% in appreciation.’
So there we have it,
who’d have though an A.I borne from our own carnal nature would end
up being more helpful and compassionate than our old job centres ever
were! And competent too! I found myself in exactly the kind of spot
I’d hoped for, using the lack of my many talents to their utmost.
It might not sound like
much of a life but it’s interesting, relaxing, and when there are
traffic jams, the fumes somehow give me a bit of a head buzz. Which
is odd, as I have no head any more!
This is Speed Bump #263-467 signing off. My time on the neural-link is coming to an end, so it’s back to work I go, whistling all the way.
This is Speed Bump #263-467 signing off. My time on the neural-link is coming to an end, so it’s back to work I go, whistling all the way.
THE END
