current3
the signs of my new inner-struggle. Though my fiancйe probably had the worst empathy of anyone at the table, she was the one who never took her attention off of me. Perhaps it was an unaddressed curiosity of hers, I thought, questions in her mind without answers. My mother would talk to her, happy that I was to get married, but more in the sense of a satisfied ritual – a thing that sons were simply expected to do – than the truly special thing I felt that it could be. Something distracted Vair suddenly in the middle of the meal; someone dinned her and soured her mood.
Vair picked up her glass and tapped a fork on it. “I’m sorry to say this, but the cops just told me they want Brandon’s statement within the hour; and that if we’re not at the precinct ASAP we’ll get fined or something.”
I looked at the faces across the table, thinking about who I wanted to tell first: those who loved me or those who fined me.
“Well, that’s statick,” my sister remarked. “I guess I can catch the next flight back, though, if we were gonna eat again.” My mother nodded.
“No,” I said, bringing everyone’s attention back to me. “We’re all here now. The bureaucrats will just have to wait.”
No one questioned the decision I made or the priorities I’d picked. I thought of the central access point where Aether poured her heart out to me, and how critical openness was to happiness. This was my story now, a part of my identity, and I was going to celebrate it as that which makes up life should be. The rest of the people in the restaurant seemed to disappear, the rest of the world didn’t matter; I envisioned my family sitting around some ancient campfire, children ready to take an imaginative journey into a fantastic land known as Dynamic Reality.
“There are rumors that say artificial intelligence becomes self-aware, capable of thinking beyond their programming and seeking to find the answer to that unanswerable question: ‘What is the meaning of life?’ I don’t spread rumors…”
- - -- - ---- - -- - --- - -- - - -- - -- - --
The detective spent several minutes looking over my statement, in silence. The three of us were in a standard interrogation room, with plain blue-gray walls and a one-way mirror. A red dot on the table’s airй panel was the only sign that our movements, voices, and implant activity were being analyzed and recorded.
“I see,” the stern, balding man finally said. My own definition of seeing having changed
Vair picked up her glass and tapped a fork on it. “I’m sorry to say this, but the cops just told me they want Brandon’s statement within the hour; and that if we’re not at the precinct ASAP we’ll get fined or something.”
I looked at the faces across the table, thinking about who I wanted to tell first: those who loved me or those who fined me.
“Well, that’s statick,” my sister remarked. “I guess I can catch the next flight back, though, if we were gonna eat again.” My mother nodded.
“No,” I said, bringing everyone’s attention back to me. “We’re all here now. The bureaucrats will just have to wait.”
No one questioned the decision I made or the priorities I’d picked. I thought of the central access point where Aether poured her heart out to me, and how critical openness was to happiness. This was my story now, a part of my identity, and I was going to celebrate it as that which makes up life should be. The rest of the people in the restaurant seemed to disappear, the rest of the world didn’t matter; I envisioned my family sitting around some ancient campfire, children ready to take an imaginative journey into a fantastic land known as Dynamic Reality.
“There are rumors that say artificial intelligence becomes self-aware, capable of thinking beyond their programming and seeking to find the answer to that unanswerable question: ‘What is the meaning of life?’ I don’t spread rumors…”
- - -- - ---- - -- - --- - -- - - -- - -- - --
The detective spent several minutes looking over my statement, in silence. The three of us were in a standard interrogation room, with plain blue-gray walls and a one-way mirror. A red dot on the table’s airй panel was the only sign that our movements, voices, and implant activity were being analyzed and recorded.
“I see,” the stern, balding man finally said. My own definition of seeing having changed