Story sho(r)t: The man who couldn't love

 A man who thinks he is loved, Joe.  Each a different occasion, a different time, a different place, a different somebody - a stranger; an old schoolmate; a street dancer on her spiritual journey; the bartender at the local microbrewery; all the friends at work; now estranged family; a lover. Fast life of the day leaves little room for grand respites. But Joe is a traveler. He loves visiting exotic places, a frenzied pilgrim checking-in with his thousand deities, and meeting new strange people. Joe has explored the big world already, his family, his friends more astonished every time he comes back. Still, Joe is a average man, an optimist who understands the world.


 'We are doing it wrong.' Joe told Boss, 'You shouldn't expect people to just put their phone in the pocket because you ask nicely. A human system cannot be contained in boxes. They evolve together as participants test the rules and the enforcement. They cut corners, leverage power within different roles, and setup. Once an etiquette develops around the exchange, they would even oppose the rules together. Worst case, the rules include rules to protect the rules. Like religions...'

Boss winced slightly, adjusted his fancy black chair to face Joe and said, 'Can you please listen Joe?'

Joe halted the explanation midway, rather disappointed that he couldn't finish again.

Boss continued, 'Joe, you are the newest hire. Please put up the "No phones in corridors" flyers we got from the HR.'


  Joe spent his sweet time sticking those flyers. As he went back to report, the Boss sighed and settled himself back in his fancy black chair, and spoke, 'Do you have time?' Without waiting for an actual answer, he continued, 'We are re-organizing the department next Monday. You will be moving to the team upstairs. I know you have this condition, but try to be more normal.'

'What condition? Normal how?' Joe was confused.

'Ah. Well. How should I say this. You are quite volatile. And people find you critical and patronizing. This peer review may help.'

His hand automatically moved to take the paper thrust his way. Joe was shocked. It read:

Summary - Opportunistic. Unreliable. Aloof. Chatty;

Most employee consider as : an Aquaintance / Stranger;


Joe was stunned. He was hated by everyone. Old wounds resurfaced with the new. Each a different occasion, a different time, a different place, the same looks, the same excuses - his good friends at work who turned out to be strangers; the best friend that wouldn't accept his love; a spurned crush pushing and pulling at the threads of guilt crisscrossing his heart; Joe's brother who was embarrassed in being Joe's brother; the ever vigilant neighbors; his disappointed father; even the only lover, who got sick of the drama.


But Joe is a tourist. He looks and moves on, never stopping where he isn't welcome. He will again leave for an exciting place. Joe will meet stranger newer people, have some adventures. He knows, he's the man who is hated. By everyone else. Just like everyone else.

Story sho(r)t : Human Cyborg relations

Another rough day. You know the tears literally jump out while crying, smearing one's glasses with a translucent smattering. I notice such oddities often these days, rough as they all are. Just last night, I came across this news, "Innovations in AI : C3P0Buds for newborns approved. Available for pre-order". How the unsaid boundaries between information and advertisement vanished overnight is beyond me. Our liberty choked in silence, as media gave up its freedom, and we gulped down the paid opinions with our salads. Oh well, the pay is better now.

I have been an interpreter with the Japanese government for 10 years now. My wife used to be one too until five years ago, when Diet - the general assembly - raised the bar for interpreters from 3 to 5 languages, and introduced AI translators. These small toys, C3P0s, can imitate voice of all humans and, unlike humans, have earbuds for hands to pull on and listen. All a smart gimmick - makes them loved everywhere else in the world. Worst of all, they are amazing at the job. My wife switched to diplomatic services quite early, she couldn't compete as a translator. Language teachers have had it worse though. Wholesale market of language learning for overseas education and work has disappeared. Ripped off from the star wars - "Hello, I am C3P0, human cyborg relations. How might I serve you?"

I liked playing with the bots, testing my own skills, just like a child. Earlier, I spoke five languages, now I can proficiently speak seven - a marvelous toy indeed. Right around the beginning, I bought a couple of units out of curiosity. I configured them to sound like my favorite characters from South Park and we talked for hours into the night. I was obsessed. Until last year.

Rei too started using my C3P0 unit she calls Eric. Everyone has a C3P0, diplomats are no exceptions. We aren't allowed to carry work units home. As a translator, it's not a problem for me. There were those who couldn't be bots reading out output from the new bots, so they quit. Others accepted their fate, thanked the fact that they couldn't be fired, and nestled their job buddy in their coat pockets. A small minority of people outperformed the bot, and we are now placed into crucial roles much younger than our predecessors. As such, we aren't required to have these bots, so most don't. I could say I was destined.

By default, a C3P0 is a personal translator and assistant, but it can copy voice as well as general behavior of any character, including frequent use of a set of words, copying the overall stance on issues. The massive amount of communications data has made us machine readable, fragments of bitstrings - 0s and 1s - that evokes a human response from Eric. And Eric tells me whatever I wish to hear.

Last June, Eric got mixed with Bella at the church, at my aunt's funeral. You see, a silent moment is impossible with chatting machines and their semi-literate owners, so the units are kept at the coat check. A doll-like C3P0, Bella led me to her owner who probably had Eric. On the way, I practiced my chinese, a force of habit. But this bot provided such childish and impeccably ignorant translations, like a perfect bubble that shields from the world. The owner turned out to be this young woman, herself named Bella. That few minutes of exchange with her is now indistinguishable from the bot, Bella.

Ever since, I have found a feedback loop of self fulfillment and personalized information filters, which is built into the design of the bots. I brought these facts to attention, urging them to discover how the biased content would change our society. Whether it redistributed responsibilities to machines, a dangerous precedent to set. It is rather difficult to motivate folks when the adversary already has their ear. I did gain fame in regressive groups around the world, and now I'm kept under supervision on my assignments. Rei left me since she couldn't risk the political backlash as a diplomat.

Once an idea makes waves into the world, a culture to the adapt it grows regardless of the rules. This idea is backed by the smartest humans and the most conscious machines. New C3P1 units are subtler, better, more fluid. Work commissions are drying up  with the machine upgrades. Jobs have become quite demanding - incessant traveling to new places with the same people, the same bots, the same culture. Another round of HR re-evaluations is just around the corner, what with mass resignations and mid-life crises drowning us middle-men of communication. My wife left me yesterday. I told her about Rei, thought she'd understand, band together to face the future. Rough nights have begun. I don't think I can stand alone.