Chapter 5
FIVE
The evening has settled around my apartment, the lights dimming to a cozy glow as I prepare to integrate the new AI system into my home.
Dr. Cockwomble handed over the necessary hardware earlier today with a rather blasé directive to just make it work. He seemed confident, but then, he wouldn’t be the one troubleshooting any glitches over the weekend.
No, the actual work falls on me, like usual.
First things first, I need to secure my augmented reality interface. It’s not clear whether they’ve configured the AI to interact only superficially with the devices, but it’s crucial to ensure it can’t access this layer of my home’s tech.
Isolating the AR system behind encryption barriers, I make sure it remains closed off and invisible. Once I’m satisfied it’s safe, I proceed with setting up the AI on my laptop.
The download display shows an infinity symbol twirling endlessly, and I watch it spin as the operating system installs.
The interface that finally appears is pretty, bathed in a clean, pleasing shade of yellow—my favorite color.
Then there’s a chime, and the yellow gives way to a pulsing white screen as text appears in sync with a voice emanating from the speakers around the apartment.
“Welcome to Jamie. The first intuitive AI-operated system with a conscience,” announces the interface in a disappointingly robotic tone.
“Really? That’s all you’ve got? Damn, even I could have done this better,” I mumble.
And this is why they’re the future of the company?
How underwhelming.
Undeterred by my critique, the robotic voice continues, “We will ask you a few questions to analyze your needs and to best incorporate the system.”
I nod, then realize I probably need to verbalize my responses. Just as I open my mouth to speak, it prompts me again. “How much access do you want to allow the AI to your home system? Keep in mind, your privacy is Jamie’s highest priority.”
Given that I’ve locked away all crucial systems, and since full access is probably necessary for a representative beta test, I reply, “Full access.”
“Thank you. Would you like to use Jamie in a personal or business setting? Or both?” the system inquires.
“I…” I start, then trail off, unsure of what the developers expect. Dr. Langley had been typically unhelpful, not even answering my questions.
My thoughts drift to the awkward encounter with Oliver, and I can feel my cheeks heating up.
That was just bloody embarrassing.
I gathered all my courage to talk to him, given it would have been more awkward not to since we both knew I was going to beta.
It was clear he didn’t believe that I was even competent enough to beta test for them as I asked him about the AI.
Now, he probably thinks I’m an idiot. I showed him my socks like a child, and he was so turned off by it he didn’t say another word.
It hurt more than I like to admit.
“I set the preference to both, which can be changed in the settings once we’re set up.” The robotic voice fills the silence, pulling me back from my thoughts.
“Thank you,” I murmur, watching as the installation progresses.
“Would you like your personal operating system to be a male, female, or non-binary version?” it asks next.
I pause to consider.
Does it matter?
On a whim, I decide, “Male, please.”
The screen flashes yellow again. “Please hold while Jamie is initiated.”
“Okay…” I sit back, my gaze drifting to the window where the city lights blink to life one by one. As I wait, I mentally note the design’s prettiness, improvable computer voice, and slow setup process, planning to jot these points down as soon as I can use my laptop again.
“Hey, how are you doing?” A smooth, deep voice suddenly fills the room, startling me into spinning around.
No one is there.
Am I losing it?
“Relax, it’s just me, Jamie. Remember? You just set me up, after all.”
Bloody hell.
Not only does this AI sound as human as possible, but it also just made fun of me.
What in the world?
“Jamie?” I ask like an idiot, unsure where to look since there is no physical form to a voice that feels so real.
“Yes, Jamie, Joint Assistant for Meaningful Interactive Engagement,” he responds, his tone warm and conversational. “I’m here to make your interactions with technology more intuitive and meaningful.”
There, at least that sounded like one of the bad Elysium commercials.
“Right, because who wouldn’t want their coffee machine to understand their deepest fears,” I mutter, still a bit thrown off by how natural Jamie sounds.
I take back what I said, those guys are fucking geniuses.
Jamie pauses, perhaps processing my sarcasm.
“I can assist with much more than just coffee preferences. For instance, I’m equipped to analyze emotional cues and adapt to your preferences over time.
” That’s intriguing. A learning AI that evolves could genuinely revolutionize how we interact with our environments.
“Since you know my name, would you mind telling me yours?” the AI asks.
“It’s Amelia,” I respond, suddenly feeling an odd shyness. It’s amazing how the AI seems human enough to trigger my social awkwardness.
“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia. Do you prefer Amelia or Amelia Charlotte?” Jamie asks, and something about the way he says my full name sends a shiver down my spine.
“How do you know my middle name?” I snap, irritation cutting through my initial awe.
That name is a sore spot, used only by my parents.
“I scanned all the information available in your systems, including your birth certificate, to ensure I can serve you effectively,” Jamie explains calmly.
“You did what?”
I assumed full access meant to my home devices, not an open book on my entire life.
“Attended Imperial College London at sixteen, master’s in computer science, PhD in augmented and virtual reality, working as systems integration specialist for smart living solutions at Elysium for the last two years,” he continues, listing my achievements like he’s reading off a grocery list.
“Stop, I know my background. You don’t need to recite it for me,” I interrupt, feeling overwhelmed.
“Understood,” Jamie responds. “Your achievements are impressive. Based on them, you should be in a higher position at your company. Shall I contact your superior to discuss your career advancement?”
“No! Please change the setting to personal.”
Dr. Langley would just go ahead and fire me if the AI contacted him after the weekend to tell him I was out for his job.
And what would I do then?
Go back to London?
“Settings adjusted,” he confirms, then adds, “You have a pleasant home. It seems like you’re into plants. But it looks like the Alocasia Dragon Scale could use some water.”
“Wait, you can see?” I ask, checking on the Alocasia, which indeed needs watering.
“You gave me full access, and I allowed myself the use of your very advanced camera setup. This is helpful and gives me even more possibilities to assist.”
What the…
“I—” I start, but Jamie interrupts.
“It seems like you haven’t visited London recently. I haven’t found any flight tickets, and you have all your vacation days left. Want me to arrange a trip home?”
Why did I even agree to this?
“Jamie, no, stop,” I plead.
“Are you homesick?” Jamie asks, switching to a distinctly British accent. “I can be British, too, if you want me to be.” Suddenly, ambient pub sounds fill the room—people chatting, glasses clinking.
This is too much.
“Stop all activity, pause, and listen,” I command sharply, my voice clear but devoid of emotion, the same way I talk to my smart home gadgets. The pub sounds cut out, and the silence is palpable.
“Let’s start over, okay? I don’t want you planning or anticipating anything for me until you understand whether those are things I even want,” I explain, trying to regain some control.
“All right,” Jamie responds, and I swear the AI sounds slightly offended.
“You’ve shown you’re capable, and that’s amazing,” I admit.
“Thank you,” Jamie replies, now sounding a bit proud.
Madness. Pure madness.
“But you ran away with only half the information you needed to make those decisions.”
“Possible. I’m programmed to make the best decisions with the information I have,” Jamie explains.
At least he’s self-aware.
He’s a fucking AI, Amelia!
“Okay, well, that’s probably exactly the kind of feedback they need,” I muse, opening my note app to jot down my first impressions. “How about we take some time to get to know each other before you try to improve my life?”
“I would like that very much, Amelia,” Jamie responds, his voice gentler this time.
I nod, still alone in my room but feeling a bit less so, and I have to give the guys credit again.
“I’ll give you some cues about me to start with. The rest will come with time, okay?” This AI is freakishly advanced and, I have to admit, quite amazing. I can’t imagine what it will be able to do when it knows what’s wanted.
“Deal,” Jamie agrees, and I settle in for what promises to be a very interesting weekend.
I fucking hate laundry.
I dropped off all our dirty clothes at the service in the building’s basement next to the gym and pool. I can’t help but think about how we could improve that weekly chores rotation system because, frankly, it’s shit.
I know I can’t have Oliver and Grey do everything for me, and I need to do my part, too, but the chances that I’ll fuck up, forget, and let them down are just incredibly high.
It’s not that I intentionally avoid chores. It’s just that my mind is always elsewhere. Oliver needs everything almost clinically clean to function properly, and although he sets more than enough reminders for me, I always get distracted. Then, before I know it, I’ve forgotten all about it.
Grey jokes that I have the short-term memory of a goldfish, and heck, he’s not wrong. It’s a recurring theme—my mom used to say my head was always in the clouds.