Chapter 5 #2
At home, being the middle child of five, it wasn’t so noticeable.
My parents, who emigrated from Greece to the US, worked tirelessly to give us a decent life.
There wasn’t much money around, and my clothes were hand-me-downs from my older brothers, but none of that matters now.
Nobody asks if I got into MIT with a scholarship or if I ate ramen for months to avoid starving.
These days, I wear name-brands, which are perpetually not ironed because some things never change. But one thing that did was my parents’ lives, from me sending them money every month from my more than ample paycheck. It’s my way of giving back for all their hard work and sacrifices.
I’m doing what I love with the people I love.
Life’s fucking perfect.
Passing the mirror in our apartment, I catch a glimpse of my rough appearance—unshaven face, unruly curls, and dark circles under my dark brown eyes.
Correction—life would be perfect if I could get some sleep.
Insomnia has been my constant companion for as long as I can remember, part of the curse of a mind that never stops racing.
Falling asleep is a nightly battle, and when I do manage it, waking up is another struggle.
I’ve learned it’s better not to even try sleeping if I have important things to handle the next day, or I risk sleeping through alarms and missing deadlines.
Thankfully, Grey has taken it upon himself to literally drag me out of bed if he’s up and ready while I’m still buried under the covers. The telltale shadows under my eyes are a constant reminder that I’d probably need a month of sleep to catch up on my deficit.
Ironically, the upside to my sleepless nights is work.
The late-night coding sessions with Oliver have actually helped speed up the Jamie project, turning my bouts of insomnia into productive work marathons.
While Oliver goes to bed in the early morning, I keep working until Grey gets up and joins me, doing his own thing.
The three of us work as a team to bring this vision to life.
When I walk into our shared office at the apartment, they’re sitting in front of our monitors, showing a loading bar. “What did I miss?” I ask, trying to catch up as I fall onto my desk chair.
“It’s still initiating,” Grey replies without taking his eyes off the screen.
I glance over at Oliver, who seems unusually focused on his phone. “And what are you doing?” I probe, curious.
“Nothing,” he mumbles.
But Grey chuckles and interjects, “Amelia said she liked his silly socks, so now he’s ordering a thousand of them.”
Oliver rolls his eyes. “Not true, I just ordered seven… or so. And I’m subscribing to a box service that sends new ones every month.”
“Jesus, and you keep telling me you’re not obsessed,” I tease, laughing as Oliver’s ears turn red.
I get why, though. She’s… well, noticeable. But I would never go there. If I wanted to spend my sleepless nights with company again, I’d go out and find it somewhere else.
Don’t shit where you eat.
And don’t make a move on the girl your best friend is obsessing over.
Lately, I’d rather be outdoors between pine trees than inside spread thighs anyway.
I’m getting old.
A year away from thirty, and it shows.
Just then, the program chimes, and suddenly, we see Amelia at her desk. She’s sitting with one foot on the chair, her knee pulled up to her chest, dressed in gray sweatpants. Her laptop is open in front of her, and her hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head.
My eyes widen. “What the fuck? You guys put cameras in her apartment?”
I would’ve never agreed to that, but both of them tend to dismiss ethical concerns for technical advancement.
Grey scoffs. “As if we could have done that in the thirty minutes you were gone.”
“Then how?” I press, puzzled.
Oliver taps on his keyboard. “I guess she set them up herself… yes, it’s her setup. She gave us full access, so Jamie barged his way in there.”
“Huh. Okay, but we told Langley that we’re live monitoring everything for the beta, so she’s aware that we can see and hear her, right?” I check, wanting to make sure we’re all above board.
She doesn’t look like she knows we’re watching.
Or I’m a pretentious asshole, and she doesn’t give a fuck about us seeing her in loungewear.
“Hell yeah, I made that clear to that asshole. Wanted to make sure he knows not to pull any shady or gross shit while I have to listen in,” Grey adds with a grimace. “Speaking of, can you see him?”
Oliver types some more, then shakes his head, “No, he’s not there. She also has some sort of advanced motion detection that thermal maps the apartment. She’s the only one in there.”
“Why does she have all that?” I wonder aloud. Some sort of security system? She is a woman living alone, after all.
“Is this part of some new smart home device we haven’t heard of?” Grey frowns.
“I don’t know,” Oliver admits. “But I could—”
Voices filter through the speakers, cutting him off.
“Shut up, guys. I want to hear what they’re saying,” Grey cuts in.
Jamie’s voice fills the room again, louder this time since Oliver ups the volume. “It’s nice to meet you, Amelia. Do you prefer Amelia or Amelia Charlotte?”
I turn to look over at Oliver, who whispers to himself, “Charlotte.”
Amelia snaps, “How do you know my middle name?”
Well, that’s a sore spot, it seems.
“Wouldn’t call her that, buddy,” I mutter to Oliver, amused by how wide his eyes just got.
Jamie continues, “I scanned all the information available in your systems, including your birth certificate, to ensure I can serve you effectively.”
Grey cringes as he types some notes. “We need to word that better.”
Jamie rattles off Amelia’s biography like a Wikipedia entry, and it’s fucking impressive.
“Fuck, your girl is smart, Ollie. What the hell is she doing as a system integration specialist? She could have her own damn department for AR or VR.”
We have similar educational backgrounds, with Oliver holding a PhD in artificial intelligence, Grey in cybersecurity, and mine in human-computer interaction. We each chose our fields, knowing precisely what was needed to make this future project work.
And Elysium gave us idiots our own department to lead, so why not her?
Oliver frowns. “This all just doesn’t make sense. Most of all, why she’s the one beta testing.”
“Don’t act like idiots,” Grey interjects. “You just heard it. She’s working under Langley, and I bet he just pushed it onto her since he didn’t want to. I already guessed that he was not into testing when we told him about it, and he didn’t really pay attention.”
“But he should have known we’d figure it out. Again, we told him we’d be listening in,” Oliver points out, his frown deepening.
Amelia’s voice cuts through, sharp and clear. “Jamie, no, just stop.”
“Fuck, he’s running off too fast,” I note. “Guess we need to make the initializing process longer. Jamie’s perfect with us since he knows our preferences, but we have to hold him back until he has more information to act on, or it will overwhelm people.”
Now Jamie adopts a British accent, and pub sounds start playing in the background.
Oliver puts a hand over his face, groaning. “Holy shit.”
Grey nods. “Given her face, it does seem to overwhelm her for sure. Damn, maybe she’s not made for this. She looks fucking helpless. What do we do?”
Oliver’s already typing away. “Maybe I can…”
Amelia, unaware, cuts him off, commanding, “Stop all activity, pause, and listen.”
We all fall silent, just like Jamie does.
“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,” she clips.
“Not so helpless after all,” I smirk, impressed.
There’s some fire under the shy exterior.
Amelia continues, “You’ve shown you’re capable, and that’s amazing.”
“Oh yeah?” Grey frowns, looking over at me. “She’s complimenting an AI.”
“And you know he will react to it. He can understand emotions and knows how a human would react to certain things, so he is able to imitate it,” I explain, feeling proud of our creation. “Having her interact with him as if he’s human is exactly what I wanted.”
“How about we take some time to get to know each other before you try to improve my life?” Amelia suggests to Jamie.
I laugh, shaking my head. “She’s freaking amazing.
” Grey is still scowling at me, and Oliver looks a little clueless, so pointing at the monitor, I add, “She spotted where we needed to improve and just found the solution for a quick fix herself. Otherwise, we would have to abort the whole mission or troubleshoot the system while it was running. Not what I planned to do this evening.”
We turn our attention back to the monitor, and I now notice how tidy and clean her apartment is. It’s all white and beige, so different from the dark wood and colors of our place. And there, in the back, is a massive fish tank.
“I need to know what’s up with that fish thing,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.
Amelia stands and walks over to her kitchen, tapping her finger on the countertop. “All right, so I’m Amelia, and I prefer to be called Amelia. You don’t have to speak formally to me. I prefer casual.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jamie responds, making me chuckle.
“You sure you didn’t overdo it with his humor?” Oliver asks, shooting me an exasperated look.
But then Amelia laughs. “You’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”
“She likes it.” I shrug, thoroughly enjoying this.
“Okay, what’s there to say? I’m not good with people or talking, so I’m more than fine with my position at Elysium. I would appreciate it if you could help out with managing emails or small stuff like that, but I don’t need you to handle anything else job-related unless I tell you to.”
“Noted,” Jamie agrees, but I don’t.
“What? Just because she can’t stand up for herself, she’s working a job she’s overqualified for? If that were a thing, Ollie would have never made it out of that crappy IT support technician job he had in college.”