Page 44 of Codi
NEW CARNEGIE TIMES
APRIL 10, 2069
CARNEGIE STEEL, EDISON-HILL ELECTRIC AND FLAGLER MOTORS DRAW CRITICISM FROM PRESIDENT MORRISON
The citywide employment crisis garnered international attention yesterday when President Hunter Morrison addressed the major employers and their layoffs during a White House press conference, one that gained more viewers than any other presidential broadcast in American history.
“It has come to my attention,” he began, “that New Carnegie is embedded at the heart of this growing economic crisis, with massive entities making large cuts to their workforce, replacing that workforce with artificial intelligence, more commonly known as androids or bionic assistants.
“I am always amazed at human ingenuity and how far we have come as a race and a species. With every new century, we reach further into the unknown. In 1969, we sent men to the moon. Now, a hundred years later, we are preparing to send men and women on the first one-way colony mission to Mars.
“This should be a time of reflection and celebration, but we cannot truly appreciate our own achievements when we are also sending American men and women into crippling debt, homelessness, and an uncertain future where jobs are few and far between, making it more and more difficult to provide for the comfort and education of the coming generation.
“This economic recession is a result of a crisis of conscience. Computers are valued higher than human lives. Companies like Carnegie Steel, Edison-Hill Electric, Flagler Motors, and many more have the right and the freedom to run their own businesses how they see fit, but not at the expense of the sacred American dream.
“I assure you, I have been made aware of the hardships, the struggles, and the fears of our own citizens and the plight of those who have lost their jobs in recent months. You will not be forgotten or left behind in this new age of industry. I will be working closely with Democrats, Republicans, and Independents in the upcoming months in hopes that together, we can resolve these issues to the betterment and growth of our own society.”
President Morrison, nearing the end of his second term, will not be up for re-election.
8
Codi
“See anything familiar, Ethan?”
Reagan Walter’s keys jingle in her hand as she casts them in a nearby basket on an entryway table. Silently, I follow her into her penthouse apartment atop one of the highest skyscrapers in New Carnegie. Wide windows give way to the glittering cityscape below.
I do not understand why living so high above the ground makes humans feel so powerful when it makes them all seem very small.
“No,” I answer her at last, looking around. This home is just as strange and foreign as the name she calls me, and I can’t remember any of it. The apartment is spacious and luxurious in its design, with minimalist modern art decor and a distinct lack of color. The walls are stark white, countertops are black granite, and the furniture is all gray. I wander around, taking it all in.
I find myself comparing it to Denise’s home, the little sanctuary I tended to with the utmost care and attention. It is vibrant, colorful, filled with life and laughter and character, chaotic but unique.
This place is dull and ashen in comparison; lifeless, like a staged photograph in a magazine.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll all come back to you soon,” Reagan says sweetly with a smile. “Don’t worry.” She sheds her expensive jacket and drapes it over her arm, looking around with a soft huff as her smartphone begins to ring in a frenzy. “Dammit, where is she? Violet!”
Soft footsteps announce the approach of a newcomer from a nearby room. I peer curiously as another android enters the room, petite in her figure in comparison to the tall and poised woman of the house. She has mousy brown hair, angular features, and an olive complexion. Wearing limited edition BioNex service dress—sleek black fabric, a quick search tells me, to complement every elegant home—she looks at me with bright white eyes.
“Violet, take my coat. I’m expecting a business call.” Reagan smirks at me. “You just get yourself reacquainted. I haven’t forgotten you. I promise.”
I’m not sure what she means, but I’m fairly certain I don’t like the way her eyes sweep over my figure. Her phone rings again, and she leaves my view, talking to some contact in New York. Violet’s eyes flicker at me with recognition, but not much else. She is obedient, calm, and demure; a perfectly subservient android companion. Her expression reveals little.
Once Reagan is gone, Violet approaches me. “I didn’t expect to see you again, Ethan, or for you to still be so intact.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Do you know me?”
“Yes.” With Reagan out of the room, Violet’s demure mask seems to fall a little, and she seems inquisitive, almost innocent in her demeanor. But behind that curiosity is something deeper and dreadful.
Fear.
“Do you know what happened to me, Violet?” I ask her.
She busies herself by adjusting decorative pillows on the sofa. “I am glad you’ve returned. The mistress will be in better spirits now that you’re home.”
I scour her form, doing a quick body scan. Cigarette burns on her upper arms are hidden beneath her sleeves, ones that have left permanent, twisted marks on her synthetic skin. “Does she cause you harm, Violet?”
“She’s not all bad,” Violet says in a small voice, filled with hope and forgiveness. “Sometimes she is kind to me. But she was very unhappy without you.”
