AI's Minion

  Chapter 3

  Chandler’s private space was hardly more than a bunk with storage underneath and a compact toilet-shower. The same soundproofing curtain covered this door as Chan had seen on most of the other doorways. It occurred to him to ask his trainer how they handled claustrophobics.

  Chan’s trainer, Darvesh, was very dark with a narrow face and straight hair, speaking with a lilting South Asian accent. To his question, Darvesh responded, “Such people tend to fail our automated screening and never get in through the portals.”

  That was simple enough. He learned last names were mostly a matter of privacy, and realized it was a fitting policy. It’s not as if there were enough people in any one location to make it confusing or uncertain. He also learned the various facilities were mostly clinics, but there also workshops and labs. This one was a lab, which seemed to be about the same as an informal research facility.

  It’s not that curiosity was forbidden or even frowned upon, but it seemed out of place to simply wander about poking into the corners of the place. It didn’t take long for Darvesh to confirm that. He had pulled aside the curtain not long after Chan woke up and began donning the uniform they had given him. The man brought simple food simply prepared, but filling and tasty enough. Chan rather liked the hot tea, though it was entirely different from anything he’d tried before, filled with fruity hints and slightly sweet.

  He had made up his mind to simply go with the flow. While he ate, Darvesh described what it was like living in this lab under the sea floor. There was some back and forth between them as Darvesh laid out what sounded like a very open civility. Other residents knew Chan was here and would be expected to make room for him to find his place in the small society. It was more the case of simply trying to read the character of the current cross-section of different people from different backgrounds. There were no permanent residents, and no females here.

  Most of the men were simply pursuing one or more technology projects and kept their own hours. People who worked together would have to negotiate their own division of labor. It was almost entirely fortuitous that the sort of things Chan might help with could be done right here. He understood it had to do with helping the portal computers refine their color algorithms. The portal through which he came was their latest model, and while it needed improving, it was already pre-programmed for it. It required only far more sensitive eyes than had been available up to now.

  It would take a few days to arrange things, so there was plenty of time for Chan to learn enough to get started.

  Chan surprised himself. He imagined things would be far more complicated than they were. He knew right away that this was all about rising above the mundane level of consciousness almost necessary in his former life. Some part of him quickly adapted to the lack of policemen, and leaving behind the tight regulatory life and dreary provision possible with such a poor economy. He sensed there was really nothing to worry him, but instead of giddy delight, he suddenly recognized a driving need to get involved. So he was able to keep his feet on the floor and focus on absorbing what it meant to be involved.

  It all made sense, but it was totally different from anything he’d ever heard.

  Darvesh quizzed Chan about his education and reading habits. Chan had wanted so very much to attend college but he wasn’t in any of the favored demographics. He couldn’t afford the private education that was open more to those actually able to learn. Aside from devouring an eclectic smattering of online courses and various reading materials not censored by the government “Net Nanny,” it was mostly a matter of his participation in a somewhat underground fiction exchange. It was underground because the books offered a more masculine cant than was available in the bookstores run by commercial publishers.

  Darvesh used this as the starting point of their first discussion.

  They sat side-by-side on the bunk and Darvesh asked a few questions about Chan’s experiences with romance. Chan had the typical nerd’s life with precious little more than a few fleeting crushes here and there. From that, Darvesh was able to reconstruct almost in detail back to him what Chan had experienced. He was shocked, but totally absorbed by the description of things he hadn’t really noticed consciously, but was almost precisely what he had gone through, stage by stage.

  Darvesh described the current state of social life in general and how certain forces had seized control and made life miserable. For a man with an Asian background, he seemed to know an awful lot about Western history. But it wasn’t some academic lecture. It was more like a mystery novel as the plot twisted and turned, and it seemed as if deep sinister forces were herding humanity into an awful drudgery and it was a wonder anyone ever got married and had children.

  Chan was so absorbed in the telling he didn’t realize how cramped and sore he was until Darvesh suggested they take a walk. Chan almost hated to go because he had a thousand questions.

  The layout of the facility was compact but there were multiple levels. The one above was mostly devoted to what Darvesh called life support. They stopped by a cafeteria of sorts and Darvesh handed over Chan’s now empty tray to one of the workers. It was painfully obvious people treated each other as equals regardless of the tasks they bore. If anything, Chan felt the most like a nobody. They grabbed two more cups of tea and Darvesh led Chan down a corridor to a large room with six or so odd-looking booths.

  “I call this the gym,” Darvesh announced. He opened one of the booths to display the interior. There was a deep inset in the back face that was roughly human shaped. He explained it was fully automated. The user would step backward into this mold, the door would close and the whole thing would shape itself somewhat closely to the individual. Then it would assess the state of the body and apply various kinds of fields that would help the body cleanse from toxins, heal internal injuries in the musculoskeletal system, dissolve fat deposits and stimulate muscle growth.

  “Pick one,” Darvesh said.

  Chan reached out to the one nearest him and touched it with his hand. Darvesh stripped down to his briefs, hung his clothing on a hook on one side, and stepped into it. He closed the door behind him and only his head stuck out at the top. The machine began making very low noises, buzzing and humming. A sort of collar rose up and more or less immobilized his head without blocking his chin from moving. He explained as it did its work, “I want you to see they won’t hurt you, though there would surely be some discomfort the first few times you use it.”

  Chan decided it couldn’t be that bad and stripped down to enter the machine next to Darvesh. They were able to talk comfortably while each was forced to face straight ahead. Chan felt all sorts of sensations he had never encountered, but nothing was outright painful. He took the opportunity to ask questions about the previous discussion.

  All the way through, Chan realized he was left to come to his own conclusions about what he would do, but he clearly understood what made people tick when it came to romantic relationships. Not in the sense of precision so as to manipulate, but so that nothing surprised him. Darvesh repeated some things, often saying it in different words until Chan had a solid structure in his mind. It was a jarring disconnection between what people believed and what actually was possible. He realized that if he ever went home, he would be wholly unlikely to meet a gal with any sense at all. He might be able to get what most men seemed to want from women, but nothing Chan would value much. At least, he would have to search outside the society he had encountered thus far in his life.

  This brought up the one question that had been nibbling around the edge of his consciousness since at least the point when Pete showed him to his quarters the night before. “Darvesh, do the people in The Brotherhood stay together pretty much all the time?”

  Darvesh was beginning to perspire just a bit. “Not in the physical sense. The mission itself doesn’t require too many people working in our facilities at any one time. The membership is actually fairly large and most of us have regular jobs. I’m one of the few who do
little else but work in one facility or another. I could quit that work and establish a family and household anywhere I liked, but I feel driven to stay with the mission for now.”

  Chan was silent for awhile as the alternating surges of gentle muscular pulling all over his body absorbed his attention. Suddenly the machine pulled away from his skin and the door popped open. He was barely able to step out as his legs were rubbery and quivering.

  Darvesh was already half-dressed. “You’ll probably need a nap before lunch. Can you find your room?”