(First appearance on my Patreon page, 22 December 2016)
AllBot News and Entertainment
Week 35, 2074
L. Flora Wong
Jayla Johnson is the face of a rising new cottage industry that, some think, poses a threat to the old corporate order.
Economists estimate there are a million just like her in the United States now. Across the world, from our neighbors in Canada and Mexico to even the heavily state-managed economies of the Greater Russia Federation and China, there may be as many as ten million more. Using bots to rapidly create and sell handcrafted products worldwide is small potatoes by corporate standards. Last year, they sold perhaps $N5,000,000 ($100,000,000 pre-revaluation) in goods. But five years ago it was half that. Twenty years ago, a tenth.
Some corporations seem to think that trend could continue, and undermine their profitability. Currenty, lobbyists and sympathetic members of the rump Trump Party (now rapidly weakening through defections to the new, revived right-progressive Bull Moose Party) are attempting to push a bill through the House levying draconian fees and taxes on home entrepreneurs.
Thankfully for people like Jayla, the measure has little chance of becoming law.
As the chaos of the Great Contraction of 2027-55 came to an end, the proliferation of basic income programs combined with plunging costs and soaring capabilities of bots for the home market brought opportunities earlier generations couldn’t have imagined.
But Jayla could imagine. “I was one of the first to see what we could really do with these bots. I was selling furniture I made from salvage. Real art pieces; I started out as a sculptor. Back in the day I finished a couple of pieces a month and sold them around the neighborhood, long before I had any bots. It was a way to keep food on the table, because, you know, with all the automation there was hardly any work for anyone. But I was feeding my soul, too. Doing what I loved even though the world was going to hell all around us.”
By 2055 her business grew beyond mere subsistence. She took advantage of the first wave of Rebirth Loans then. The low-cost, flexible and long-term repayment funds allowed her to buy two bots. She went from finishing two pieces for sale per month to, in 2056 and to the present, finishing two per day. While the bots were and are marketed as automation for the home, mechanical servants for taking care of mundane tasks like cooking, cleaning, and budgeting, she saw that their learning algorithms allowed them to become able helpers.
“I still have the original bots, and now they actually do the dishwashing and whatnot they were made to do. (Laughs.) The new bots are so much better at learning tasks than the old ones. I have one to assemble pieces, one that scrounges for good salvage out of the landfill, the beach, and around the hood, one that cleans and sterilizes my materials (that took so many hours before bots!), and one that takes orders and ships them out.”
With the help of her bots, Jayla is among the upper 1% of earners in the bot-assisted home crafts industry. She estimates she sells about $N30,000 worth of furniture and art objects yearly, about $600,000 pre-revaluation.
“My basic income stipend, well, I give that to local food banks. $100 per month goes a long way for them. I’ll never forget that I was hungry, once upon a time. But thanks to these bots, I’ll never be hungry again. I hear Trump Party types go on about how people need old-style jobs. Spending all your hours doing junk that bots can do better, junk you don’t really care about. No wonder things went to hell! Who wouldn’t rather find something they love and make themselves some money doing it, whether it’s a little bit of extra spending money or, if they want to work their butts off like I do, a lot?”
(Originally appeared on Patreon, December 16)
US AP (Federal Approved)
Monday 17 November 2098
Riots at eight Indianapolis, Indiana-area penetentaries were put down yesterday by automated Lockup Consolidated guards aided by automated SWAT teams from the cities of Indianapolis, Fort Wayne, and Cincinnati, Ohio.
All eight riots began between 8 and 8:30 Sunday morning. An Indianapolis PD SpoxBot, in a text release marked “reviewed and approved” by Deputy Police Chief W.A. Stoltzy, stated the riots are believed to have been deliberately plotted and coordinated. “So many riots simultaneously occurring in a single district and in such a constrained timeframe are highly unlikely in normal circumstances,” the statement read in part.
An investigation is ongoing.
The riots interrupted production on orders of clothing and furniture kits for markets in the European Union and India, where strong basic income programs have preserved and expanded a mass market for frivolous consumer goods.
Although the riots were ended within 6 hours and with minimal casualties relative to the inmate population (14 dead and 171 injured of 38,500 total inmates), equipment damage pushed back anticipated delivery dates.
“This is going to invoke contractual penalties. Significant monetary penalties that will severely impact revenues,” said Stanley Wallers, the Executive Vice-President of Lockup Consolidated’s Textile Division. “In order to compensate, we anticipate 30 to 60 layoffs of human production and shipping bot supervisors. If there are no more setbacks we may consider opening hiring again in a year or so.”
Lockup Consolidated is among the top 10 employers in the Indianapolis greater metro area, employing over 400 human workers.
Fine, okay, there were some bits that are never fun. Like building an ebook table of contents or going through a bunch of stories written in standard manuscript format and deleting all the tabs so they won’t screw up the ebook.
But yeah, I liked it. There are 21 science fiction stories in there, arranged roughly from the nearest future to the most distant. From the most plausible to the most conjectural. From the least to the most alien-to-us-today vision of humanity.
There are self-driving cars and artificial intelligences in love and undersea civilizations and killer climate change and all sorts of other good stuff.
You can preorder it from Amazon right now. Or from Barnes & Noble, or Kobo, or Smashwords. Or Google Play Books. Or the iTunes bookstore. Or… there are others. How many others I cannot guess. The internet is big. 🙂
The release date is December 24th. Who doesn’t need something to read on Christmas Eve? I do. Ugh, the stress!
The Doppelgangers King is a brand-new flash fiction piece I’ve just posted to my Patreon for anyone to read — you don’t even have to be a patron!
Read it — if you enjoy science fiction, grumble about politics, or have a cynical bone in your body, I think you’ll enjoy it. 🙂
…or at least that may be an upside of an ever-more-connected world. The “Internet of Things” future will have to ponder if that and other pluses offset living in a world where any of your belongings might rob you.
In a WiFi saturated world, it may be more than your phone or local news weather report that warns you of imminent weather threats like hurricane, tornado, flood, blizzard, and so forth.
Your refrigerator and thermostat and eyeglasses and bathroom mirror and shoes and – who knows by 30 years from now – the earbuds that semi-permanently reside in your earlobe piercings will keep you updated.
Linked to the hyperlocal weather reports aggregated not just from satellites and airports and weather stations, but from sensors integral to the solar and wind power arrays that feed electricity into every building’s batteries, your belongings will keep you appraised of the weather and what it means to you.
“Close the windows,” your windows will say, possibly via your microwave, showerhead, or belt buckle. If your house is posh enough, they’ll say, “shall we close?” and they’ll do it themselves without orders if rain starts coming in to threaten the carpeting.
“Dude! We need to get out of Dodge right now!” your car (set to “casual” mode, obviously) will exclaim as deadly weather ramps up nearby. Your shoes will wail at you to head for the car, or for the curb where a self-driving Unter can collect you – if only you acknowledge you’ll be there to be picked up for evacuation.
But what if you don’t?
“Acknowledge,” the hall light prompts as you stagger by to find a place to collapse. “Acknowledge,” your thrift store sneaks beg, hearing you, from their home tucked in under the front of your second hand couch. “Acknowledge?” your front door asks querulously, but there’s no answer.
Your snores rise from the couch where you slump, utterly zonked. Maybe you’ve hit the sauce too hard, or been at the recreational drugs, or whatever you’ve been prescribed was just too much for you today. After all, you’ve been preparing for a storm and worrying all day.
And maybe your shirt notices that you’re not waking up and the state of emergency created by the weather allows the Unter car to send in a helper bot to bypass your door lock and carry you out to safety. The Unter takes you smoothly away from the danger despite widespread service outages – it’s not dependent on a centrally coordinated net by able to function as cleanly as a fish in a school…
…to take you to a designated shelter through a flood of traffic far more dense and swift than any human driver could navigate.
And you wake in a high school gymnasium shelter thirty miles away, confused.
But your wristband wearable can tell you what happened. And you’re alive.
My God, what a nanny state hell! you say to yourself as you finish reading the above, horrified that the humans of the future might be so helpless and coddled. Hopefully not because you’re a goddamn eugenicist, but surely some of you are. Regardless…
…let me tell you how helpless you really are, roughly from near past to distant. You may be able to contradict a couple statements below. Maybe. But how many? And as a way of life, not a hobby? Are you sure? Read on.
You save your children and yourself from death, pain, infliction of disability, and long-term malaise with medicines and vaccines, most of which were unknown a mere century ago. There’s a fair chance that you, reading this right now, would not be alive without them. I wouldn’t.
You don’t know how to ride, feed, or otherwise care for horses and their harness, because you ride around in automobiles.
You can’t organize a household based on the relatively difficult and time consuming weekly or monthly or seasonal (depending on your distance from civilization) grocery runs. Nor do you know how to keep the things people used to buy from spoilage. Could you buy one cheese wheel per season and keep it good so you could enjoy the last bite three months later? No. You buy a brick of cheese from the store and devour it two days later. Or if you forget it, you find it with a bit of mold and past the expiration date and chuck it straight in the trash.
You buy your food in supermarkets. You don’t know how to dry, salt, pickle, ferment, or can your own food to sustain you through the year. Nor do you know how to store those foods correctly.
You don’t know how to set a bone, stitch shut a wound, or birth a baby.
You can’t make your own clothes from bolts of cloth, needle, and thread.
You don’t know how to spin thread and yarn from cotton and wool or hemp or whatever fiber is local to you.
You don’t know how to winnow chaff, parch grain, grind it by hand, and bake it into bread in your own wood or dung fired hearth.
You don’t know how to bring ten children into the world and bury five of them before their fifth birthday without going mad.
You can’t accept life as a serf, slave, or even vassal – which, historically speaking, the vast majority of people were. You, like everyone else today, assume you’d be some sort of noble because you’re so damned smart. Well, smart wasn’t worth anything if you were born to raise beets. Except maybe getting your smart, restless ass killed.
You don’t know how to build a hut from scratch, or make and keep clean a packed earth floor.
You can’t form a phalanx or ply a sling.
You can’t ride a chariot nor craft a balanced wheel from pieces of wood.
You don’t know the best way to dig edible roots with a pointed stick.
You can’t till and plant a field with a wooden plow, or a hoe, or an adze.
You don’t even know how to save seed for next season’s planting, nor how to figure out how much seed you need to plant your acre.
You don’t know how to rotate crops. You don’t know how long to leave a field fallow. You may not even know what the hell “fallow” means or why it’s a concept.
You don’t know how to slay aurochs and bears with a spear.
You can’t cure hides with brains and piss, nor chew them soft, nor scrape them properly, nor stitch the finished product into decently-fitting boots and cloaks.
You don’t know how to layer for the weather without space-age insulation, processed wools, and garments involving stretchy artificial materials.
You don’t know how to carry embers all day so you can make a fire without having to fool with a bow and drill or flint and pyrite or something.
You can’t tell what kind of animal you’re stalking by looking at its poop.
You don’t know how to stalk an animal, so that last point wouldn’t do you much good if you did know.
You can’t catch a fish with just a length of gut, a bone, and a worm.
You don’t know how to make iron from scratch. Or bronze. Or how to pound native copper into a usable tool. Or knap a knife or spearpoint from stone. You don’t even know how to pick a good stone to knap, the right stone for a striker, and knock off flakes without cutting your fingers open or smashing them.
You don’t know how to cut down a tree with a rock.
Once you’ve cut it down, you don’t know how to make it into a canoe.
You don’t know how to live your entire life on foot, outdoors, in the weather, as a nomad, without even the knowledge of letters or numbers greater than you can count on your fingers.
Maybe you think you do, and it would be an adventure. Well, you don’t. And adventures are awful things that happen to other people that you enjoy listening to when you’re warm and safe.
The “the people have grown soft” of yesterday is today’s “we can get along just fine as we are, thanks.”
Unless we get all obsessive about how great the past was. In which case we may get what we wish for, warts and all.
This was posted to my Patreon a week before it appeared here. If you like what I do, help me do it more by contributing!
SFNN> Classified> Off-Earth > Outer System> Kuiper> Pluto> Jobs> Technical> Supervisory
HYDROPONICS AND RECREATIONAL GENERALIST (HRG)
Salary Band 8(b)
This is a position with the Eurasian University Cooperative (EUC), Facilities Maintenance Division.
Successful applicants must pass a comprehensive full-record Onboard DNA-ROM Codex (ODNARC) examination. Felonies of any nature and offenses of any level of or related to plagiarism, intellectual property theft, academic/research honor code violation, or violence are disqualifying without appeal.
Primary operating languages:
English, Russian, Mandarin, Japanese, Hindi
Linguistic mastery of 2 or more Eurasian languages independent of translationware a plus
Successful applicant without onboard translationware will receive a discounted (66.67% discount) academic/professional grade global and dialectical translationware implant compatible with their current prefrontal bioprocessor OS. OS must be up to date with active and EUC-approved malware and spyware protection. Translationware purchased by this method will be billed in 50 weekly installments during first year of service at 0% interest. In event of early termination or resignation remaining balance will become due immediately with pending balances at 30% APR calculated on a weekly basis.
Hydroponics tech certification (6-year instructional program), reduced gravity environment safety and competence certification (with residency). Recreational design certification (2-year instructional program) may be earned via VR learning during first two years of service. 3.25 GPA minimum to proceed; unsatisfactory progress is grounds for termination after 2 quarters academic probation.
1 year small team (2-20 individual) supervisory experience required, performance must be verifiable through 2 or more professional references.
Duty schedule, salary, benefits:
The HMG manages 2 subordinates at 5 days of 10 hours weekly and 0-5 educational or apprenticeship interns at 3 days of 5 hours weekly. The duty team includes 5 pre-AI android semiskilled laborers at 6 days of 15 hours weekly.
The HMG is on-call 24 hours with scheduled duty hours of 4 days at 10 hours plus 1 day at 5 hours weekly. Off duty/on-call days shall be contiguous except in EUC-valid extenuating circumstances and shall advance 1 calendar day per week to improve whole-community access to the HMG. Example: week 1 off-duty FRI-SAT becomes off-duty SAT-SUN in week 2. Likewise, regular scheduled duty hours shall advance 2 hours per schedule week. Example: Week 1 10-hour days of 0700-1500 become 0900-1700 in week 2.
The HMG is budgeted 260 hours of Paid Time Off (PTO) yearly accrued at 5 hours per calendar week of employment. No more than 90 hours shall be taken consecutively. PTO shall not accrue above 260 hours. Earned PTO not accrued due to accrual cap shall be paid at the end of each calendar week at a rate of 1.5x hourly pay as earned.
The HMG receives priority-personnel-beta (Band 2 of 5) for recreation (alpha priority (band 1 of 5) in the facility they manage), medical treatment and disaster relief.
EUC contribution to retirement fund is 7.5% of salary accrued weekly; HMG may choose to contribute a maximum of an additional 7.5%. Funds are limited to EUC-approved savings, bond, and securities instruments. Investment diversity is recommended.
The HMG will maintain a hydroponics facility rated to serve a population of 10,000 individuals. The hydroponics ecosystem includes standard, drip, and mist components and includes composting, incinerating, and recycling human and animal waste and garbage.
Bacteria, fungus, plant, fish, amphibian, bird, and small mammal populations are part of the hydroponics ecosystem and must be managed and harvested for edible and otherwise useful biomass at optimal levels.
The hydroponics environment includes public-accessible parklands with maximum occupancy of 500. Parklands must be managed to optimize environmental support, recreational value, aesthetics, and agricultural performance.
The HMG is expected to optimize and improve the performance of the hydroponics facility on an ongoing basis through research, innovation, and implementation of upgrades, redesign opportunities, and integration of new discoveries in the fields of hydroponics and recreation.
The EUC utilizes the Global Blind Application System (GLOBAS) which strips demographics-revealing data from applications. If you believe your circumstances may confer priority status upon your application you may not state so to the EUC but must apply to GLOBAS for pre-GLOBAS prioritization. Making an assertion of priority status to the EUC regardless of veracity will result in disqualification.
The EUC has zero tolerance for harassment of any variety and utilizes an all-Artificial Intelligence 3rd party service for adjudication of internal incidents.
AP (UN Regional Headquarters 8, international waters, Central Pacific)
29 August 2241
UNBE (United Nations Bureau of Enforcement) officers arrested eight individuals alleged to be the top coordinators of a tuna poaching, smuggling, and sale ring with operations spanning from the east coast of India to the western and eastern shores of the northern and equatorial Pacific Ocean. In accordance with UN law, UNBE did not release the identities of the arrested or their professions or other personal information pending the notification or appointment of the arrested parties’ legal counsel and the formal declaration of charges, which much occur within thirty full calendar days.
Nearly all surviving species of tuna are classified as critically endangered and fishing or otherwise taking even a single tuna for any purpose is a felony under UN law as well as under most local subordinate codes of nation-states and corporate states. A UNBE official stated the numbers of tuna involved are “estimated in the thousands, perhaps even ten or twenty thousand.” Charges of criminal conspiracy and tax evasion are also expected to be levied against the accused.
Tuna poaching is an ongoing threat to the recovery of the animals’ populations, which have never recovered from the overfishing of the 20th and 21st centuries. Several species are believed extinct, and legal commercially available tuna is either farmed under strict oversight or laboratory cultivated.
Tuna poaching is a longstanding problem for law enforcement due to the profitability of black-market fish in general and tuna in particular. According to UNBE estimates and past convictions, an angler may receive as much as 1 Globo per gram of their catch; a single fish weighing 5 kilograms may match the median yearly income of semiskilled laborers in poorer nations or buy a two-seat personal automobile in richer ones.
At the table, this value is considerably enhanced. A single slice of sashimi, generally between 10 and 20 grams may cost a well-heeled black market diner 500 Globos.
This novelette is a story I’ve been tinkering with for quite a while, and I’ll be ready to let it go out into the world pretty soon — a week or so for my Patreon peeps who get to see my stories first as a thankyou for contributing to my financial wellbeing as a creator, and thirty days after that for everyone else.
It ties together a lot of my imagination in regard to the near future of life in the United States and elsewhere in the developed and developing world. The biggie is the future of the self-driving car. The protagonist of OMFTR, Angela, has never learned to drive, although she owns a car. She has never needed to, nor is it a useful skill for the average person in her world. Cars drive themselves, and there’s no more an option to drive them by hand than there is an option to control an elevator’s movement by hand — which, if you didn’t know, used to be how they worked. An attendant used to be paid to stand in each elevator and control which floors it moved to with a lever control, and to open and close the doors with a second lever.
Later, these functions were automated because it was possible and economical to do so, and nobody even thinks about controlling the elevator by hand. Which is how people will think of automobiles in 50 or maybe 100 years.
Angela’s worldview, however, is challenged when she discovers she and her boyfriend Buddy have inherited a real, honest-to-goodness manual-drive car. One which has not a single computer in it, not anywhere.
When she decides to learn to operate it on her own, the process will challenge her personally — but more than that, it will lead her to question the world she lives in, how it came to be the way it is, her relationship with Buddy, and even the most bedrock of assumptions for us all, how she lives her very own life.
I love this yarn, and I believe you will too.
I’ll get it into your hands soon.
First, two things: this post appeared on my Patreon page on the 21st, and if you’re counting words the-hyphenated-ones-count-as-one. You’ll have to decide if you think I cheated or not. I say not. If you’d like to comment, I’ll politely discuss it with you. 🙂
Now, about the story:
“Uploading,” the idea of rendering the human mind faithfully into a computer “brain” in order to cheat death and transfer one’s consciousness into an undying android body, has been a thing in science fiction for quite a while now. It also has various analogs, by the way, in fantasy: the lich, the golem, the vampire, the less-desirable and conscious ghouls and zombies, and so forth.
Fantasy and science fiction have a lot in common, but that’s a post for another day — though perhaps it’s a bit obvious to spend too much time on. Those genres are commonly lumped together in advertisement, bookstores, and conventions because many people understand the basic commonality.
Back to the Upload. It is often the immortality of science fiction, become even more common than the prolonging of biological lifespan a la Larry Niven’s “Boosterspice” or Frank Herbert’s “Melange,” or any number of other examples. Biological life may be stubborn and persistent, but in comparison to a machine the human body is more fragile and harder to repair. There may be exceptions to the case (an electronic brain meeting with a Carrington Event, for example), but that is our general perception.
The Upload is usually a positive in science fiction. The mind is preserved, the Reaper is cheated, and even if the Uploaded Being bittersweetly remembers the foibles of biological life the centuries of life and experience gained outweigh the negatives.
Of course, just as we say a dark cloud often has a silver lining, Cloud Nine may carry within it a negative.
We rarely think of Uploading early in life. While civilizations purely of artificial intelligences are sometimes imagined, I can’t recall seeing a science fictional vision of a society that uploads while young as a matter of course. We imagine futures in which a person lives a long biological life, and then, when the body begins to fail from sheer age or obstructed arteries or cancer or so forth, transfers to the hale mechanical shell much like a phoenix, leaving the wrinkled ash behind.
Now imagine a person who has arranged to upload at age seventy-five. There are many reasons to have such an arrangement. Should a capitalism substantially like our present arrangements persist, a whole life might be needed to save the money to make a down payment on a durable mechanical body and computer brain. A person might want to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh for as long as possible. A contractual arrangement might keep a person flesh until an agreed-upon age.
But a decade before the arranged upload, Alzheimers disease strikes. The arrangement is kept, but is there much of the mind to transfer? Do the losses of memory transfer, is what is lost still lost? Maybe. Probably, I’d guess. And if a seventy-four year old Alzheimers patient is a hazard to have running about unsupervised, and they certainly can be a danger to themselves or even others, a strong android body would even more certainly be.
Many other things could happen. A destructive stroke, a brain injury, a descent into murderous or otherwise dangerous criminality, the onset of severe mental illness, a corruption of data during transfer, a flaw of construction in the new computer brain or in its basic operating system. A virus designed to corrupt Uploads.
And then what do you do? If you know that the mind you’re uploading will be dangerous in its new body, or if you discover it is dangerous after the fact, the laws of the future still might compel the upload to be done or the uploaded being to be preserved.
If you can’t legally wipe the mind clean and pronounce the being dead and gone, the only viable option would seem to be to disable the body. Turn the body off, or even remove the brain and put it on the shelf, free to run its program but unable to interact with the world, perhaps even blind and deaf and unfeeling.
What would it be like, to be an uploaded consciousness locked in a silent, still body or a disembodied brain, warped by disease or illness or injury or mischief?
Would it be hell?
It might be hell, or nightmare, or centuries of the paralyzed moment when the consciousness is suspended between the terror of nightmare and waking, when the mind knows that the nightmare is not real but has not yet been able to open its human eyes and escape. It might even be centuries of hoping that the future will find a cure, without even the blessing of unconsciousness enjoyed by the disembodied heads of the cryonics movement.
As attractive as the idea of immortality as an Upload might be, like all great changes, the risks are awfully frightening and likely to be all too real to at least an unlucky few.