Welcome back to my post-post-apocalyptic novel, Ada’s Children, and thanks for reading! If you’re new to the story, please don’t be surprised that it’s paywalled. The Prologue and first three chapters are free, and you can start reading them here. The previous post, part one of Chapter 18, is here. In that first half, Carol and the rest of the world became aware that a self-aware AI calling itself Ada had usurped power from governments, militaries, and corporations all over the planet. Now she sets out to find out what’s going on and what people are going to do about this new situation.
Outside, the beautiful day was having no effect on the people streaming toward the park. Everywhere Carol looked, knots of people huddled together as they moved along the sidewalks or spilled into the street, arguing over what they’d just heard, expressions of fear twisting their faces. The street was busy as well, filled with autobots headed the same way—parents rushing to pick up their kids at the school next to the park. At one time, Marcy Elementary had been the neighborhood school. Now, with the number of children dwindling and many schools closed as a result, it drew students from all over.
Carol fell in step behind two young men, recently out of college, if she had to guess. They were discussing the likelihood of beating the bots if humans resisted. Fools, she thought, but said nothing.
The pair shut up as they approached the elementary school, where a community secbot stood on the corner, scanning the crowd. It was bipedal, but with those backward-looking doglegs that always creeped her out. The telepresence screen on its chest, which would usually show the person operating it when it was under human control, simply replayed Ada’s message. Its face looked something like an emoji, currently set to smiley face. Despite its attempts to appear friendly, the crowd was giving it a wide berth.
Carol didn’t see any human cops. That was a first. Policing was the one area where the public had insisted on a human presence. Up to yesterday, police secbots could operate only under human control or with a human partner. Welcome to the new world.
The robot interrupted Ada’s message to give what Carol guessed was a periodic announcement. “Please enjoy this opportunity to exercise your First Amendment rights peacefully and securely.”
“Like hell!” one of the guys in front of her shouted at it, but they crossed to the other side of the street with everyone else. She made to follow, but then stopped in the middle of the street. If humans were in the shit, might as well find out how deep the shit was. Besides, what was a bot going to do to a new mom and a baby? She plastered a fake smile on her face and ambled toward it.
“Hello!” she called out cheerily. A buzzing came from overhead. A few drones were hovering over Marcy Elementary and Holmes Park, and one was taking an interest in her movements.
She stopped two paces from the secbot. It turned its smiley face toward her, scanning first her face, then the baby. “Hello, little one.” Green lights circled its cartoon eyes, a welcoming gesture.
“Do you enjoy being in charge now?” Carol asked.
“Security bots keep all people safe, no matter who is in charge.” That was hardly enlightening.
From the bot’s speakers came a jangle of guitars and a clash of drums—a recording of an ancient pop tune from before Carol was born. “People all over the world, join hands…” sang the O’Jays. The robot started dancing. He had good moves. “Start a love train, love train…”
In Carol’s lifetime, the dancing robot had gone from a cute novelty to a cliché, but the mood of the crowd lifted, becoming more relaxed, a few people even grooving along with the music. Better still, the music drowned out the buzzing of the drones, which were back to monitoring the school and the park. Carol followed the rest of the crowd, glad to know the bots hadn’t dialed up their aggression settings.
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