“Excellence” and “mastery” are not strong enough words to describe the amazing quality of the cuisine here. Even a simple restaurant like this in any random neighborhood can deliver a five-star dish that costs almost nothing. The place was spotless and feels and smells like home. The cherry on the top is the humbots. They can engage in a conversation with a customer to the point that you feel they have a soul inside that fiber-carbon shell. They’ll remember your stories, and they could even ask you about your family and relatives if you mentioned them before. Everything seems to be wonderful here, but the reality is no one is comfortable or happily enjoying their meals.
The customers all try to just finish their snacks and leave as fast as possible; no one feels safe. This feeling was magnified by a million after a hacker, and a partisan of ManFirst, hacked into a humbot in a shopping mall. The machine decapitated more than a dozen people. This massacre was captured on every camera as, in the end, the humbot was trying to fix his “mistake” by collecting and matching all the severed heads with the blood-drenched bodies. It was a horror, and it is still one of the most-viewed videos out there. That happened only once, but it was enough to inspire the psychos and instill the feeling of insecurity, as suddenly, the fear of a predator came back to haunt us after thousands of years.
Everyone inside that restaurant was watching over their shoulder. I can see Dismar's hand inside his vest, even if he pretends that’s just a comfortable position – but I know that his finger is on the trigger of his .45 caliber right now. We are all afraid that some humbot will snap and start a rampage, again.
In a survey, people said that they always felt watched, observed, and spied upon by their machines. They feared the humbots were recording everything, and even their small devices or pet robots were recording their daily lives. And to be honest, they are, because the First Citizens constantly monitor the population, and the Cabinet cannot do a thing about it.
Everything is stored in the main server of Consoft, as it is all used as historical data for the AI predictions. Without that data, Consoft and every other AI corporation would be worth nothing. Although, in my opinion, they are worth nothing because they are thieves, stealing from people the only thing that can give them some pride – a mastery in their field. That mastery, when achieved by us, is observed, copied, and stored by the AI without any reward to the master. His lifetime achievement is stolen from him in broad daylight.
Anyway, I ordered a wrap with truffles. Dismar got a small salad, and we both ordered cannabis drinks with low THC. All this was prepared and served by a humbot with a charming, sophisticated voice that made you feel like royalty. I felt happy for a short period of time; they are an amazing invention, after all. They made me feel like a king being served and loved by a nice, gentle, and sophisticated servant. That nice feeling faded away with every tender bite of that unique wrap. A pang of immense guilt followed as well as a sense of culpability, which made me feel sad, even angry, as I suspected the real chef who created this recipe was probably out somewhere right now desperately looking for a job.
The feeling of royalty that Dismar and I are experiencing now was never believed to have existed in our days in the Sunshine Orphanages. And If the society could be measured by units, with a maximum of 100 units for the kings, queens, and the First Citizens, 90 to 80 units for the religious leaders who were close to the ruling power or the state, 70 units for the oligarchs and all the wealthy businessmen, 60 for all the media stars and all the sports players, 50 for the politicians, 40 to 30 for the rich people depending on their wealth, 20 for the top scientists, the best writers, and thinkers, 10 for the normal civilian, and a 0 for the soldier since he doesn’t own his own life. If those were the units of measurement for society, then orphans would be minus 10 units ”less than nothing.” That is the exact term for them as no one in the Empire cares about them at all.
No one in the Empire cares for them – except the army. And their interest is not because of love or compassion for a young human being sadly in need of attention, guidance, and empathy, but as easy prey for the army’s Special Forces recruiters.
Dismar was taken out of the orphanage at an early age, did the Army Youth Academy, graduated, and then went straight to the Special Forces. At 17, he was already part of special missions abroad, and at 25, he was a highly decorated sergeant first class. From there, as a platoon leader in different battles and pre battles. At the age of 32, he was sentenced to prison for 20 years for reckless disobedience, second-degree murder, and high treason for losing nine of the 17 commandos in his platoon in a secret mission. I freed him after four years.
I stumbled on his file when I was looking for a personal assistant; for me changing the world begin with
