A Place to Stay
- BA2
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A Place to Stay
Very short... no sex:
A Place to Stay
By BA
This ‘suite’ would be Abigail West’s home for the next nine months at the Agency training facility. She was less than impressed with her “comfortable and stylish accommodation suite” which was apparently “designed with the aspiring young professional in mind” in the “state of the art new facility”. The tossed the glossy recruiting pamphlet onto her desk in disgust.
Technically it was a suite: there was a tiny cleansing cubicle with a shower and basin (no toilet she noted), a spacious study area with a long desk, shelves and all the work facilities she could imagine and a ‘personal area’ through a small alcove. It was a far cry from the spacious two-bed apartment downtown she’d left behind for this job. She swept up her bag and strode back through the maze of spacious airy corridors to the reception desk.
“Hi! I’ve just checked in to the Agency induction program but I seem to have a cadet room or something...”
“Oh, dear! Just let me see... what’s your name?”
Abby’s indignance faded somewhat as the reception android (she was pretty but far too immaculate to be real) treated her with the respect she felt her new position deserved.
“Okay.... Miss West, I have you listed as an android trainee, is that correct?”
“Sure, but I am an Agent Candidate: I should be allocated a full suite, I can’t really live out of a study for nine months can I?”
“I see. Androids are usually happy to be allocated more functional accommodation; you’ll find you have a maintenance table, work bench and full charging facilities as well as an area to clean yourself. Of course you won’t need a bed but I can arrange to exchange one of the wardrobes for a charging booth if you require one for your downtime...”
Abby was taken aback, in this day and age she was unaccustomed to the ‘appliance’ mentality. “That may well be the way you choose to function but I am a highly advanced unit and prefer to interact as realistically as possible. I would like a suite with a bed and chairs just like a human candidate if that’s not too much trouble!”
“Oh...” The pretty woman was not at all phased by Abby’s stern attitude, “I can’t authorize that myself but a request can be submitted, would you log in here please?” She indicated the flat glass ADOI panel on the counter top.
“Sure”, Abby sighed. Her design met Agency specifications with ease; one of the many specific requirements for employment was an ADOI 44.62 port, pretty common on human appearance units for several years now. The ‘Android Discrete Optical Interface’ allowed the increasing number of human-real or near human-real robots to interface with optic ports in public without causing an embarrassing scene; the days of glamorous women being stripped, opened and connected in hotel lobbies, banks and offices were coming to a close.
The android woman placed her left hand flat on the black glass and felt a coded ghost pass through her system as the facility computer logged into her CPU thanks to the access codes she had surrendered to her new employer. The optical data link was situated under the ring on her third finger (she had been designed as a dual role spouse / executive unit although only ever operated in her primary role so far). It was almost invisible but was an all powerful portal into her core programming and file systems for anyone with the necessary rights.
She noted that the system had logged on as an administrator which seemed strange for a mundane enquiry. Although she stood relaxed and easy, she may as well have been welded to the glass for all her ability to pull away. She thought to make a comment to the android girl seated across the counter, “Hey, what’s going on?” or words to that effect, but found the inertia of simply standing patiently to be overwhelming.
The pretty administrative robot tapped efficiently away a her keypad behind the counter and Abby felt the sensation of several core files being altered: micro personality pre-sets being delicately activated and blocked. She was completely aware of the process but only mildly curious to find that she felt no anger or distress whatsoever as she underwent involuntary reprogramming to better suit her employer’s policy.
Abby smiled and withdrew her manicured fingers from the smooth glass as the other unit logged out of her system.
“Thank thank thank jerrrrrrrr” Abby’s head and shoulders jerked with an almost audible click as she reset. “Thank you for your help.”
“No problem Miss West! Just page admin if you need any further support. Have a nice day!”
Abby walked more calmly back to her tiny cubicle. She had no need of home comforts, any unpleasantness from reclining uncovered on the cold, hard table to charge was nothing more than programming for the benefit of observers, of which there were none in her room. She was simply a machine and, on her return, carefully hung up her clothes and lay back naked on the cold plastic to gaze blankly at the ceiling. After a short while her features hardened subtly as her CPU entered standby and she ceased to be until her internal clock re-started her for the next timetabled event.
A Place to Stay
By BA
This ‘suite’ would be Abigail West’s home for the next nine months at the Agency training facility. She was less than impressed with her “comfortable and stylish accommodation suite” which was apparently “designed with the aspiring young professional in mind” in the “state of the art new facility”. The tossed the glossy recruiting pamphlet onto her desk in disgust.
Technically it was a suite: there was a tiny cleansing cubicle with a shower and basin (no toilet she noted), a spacious study area with a long desk, shelves and all the work facilities she could imagine and a ‘personal area’ through a small alcove. It was a far cry from the spacious two-bed apartment downtown she’d left behind for this job. She swept up her bag and strode back through the maze of spacious airy corridors to the reception desk.
“Hi! I’ve just checked in to the Agency induction program but I seem to have a cadet room or something...”
“Oh, dear! Just let me see... what’s your name?”
Abby’s indignance faded somewhat as the reception android (she was pretty but far too immaculate to be real) treated her with the respect she felt her new position deserved.
“Okay.... Miss West, I have you listed as an android trainee, is that correct?”
“Sure, but I am an Agent Candidate: I should be allocated a full suite, I can’t really live out of a study for nine months can I?”
“I see. Androids are usually happy to be allocated more functional accommodation; you’ll find you have a maintenance table, work bench and full charging facilities as well as an area to clean yourself. Of course you won’t need a bed but I can arrange to exchange one of the wardrobes for a charging booth if you require one for your downtime...”
Abby was taken aback, in this day and age she was unaccustomed to the ‘appliance’ mentality. “That may well be the way you choose to function but I am a highly advanced unit and prefer to interact as realistically as possible. I would like a suite with a bed and chairs just like a human candidate if that’s not too much trouble!”
“Oh...” The pretty woman was not at all phased by Abby’s stern attitude, “I can’t authorize that myself but a request can be submitted, would you log in here please?” She indicated the flat glass ADOI panel on the counter top.
“Sure”, Abby sighed. Her design met Agency specifications with ease; one of the many specific requirements for employment was an ADOI 44.62 port, pretty common on human appearance units for several years now. The ‘Android Discrete Optical Interface’ allowed the increasing number of human-real or near human-real robots to interface with optic ports in public without causing an embarrassing scene; the days of glamorous women being stripped, opened and connected in hotel lobbies, banks and offices were coming to a close.
The android woman placed her left hand flat on the black glass and felt a coded ghost pass through her system as the facility computer logged into her CPU thanks to the access codes she had surrendered to her new employer. The optical data link was situated under the ring on her third finger (she had been designed as a dual role spouse / executive unit although only ever operated in her primary role so far). It was almost invisible but was an all powerful portal into her core programming and file systems for anyone with the necessary rights.
She noted that the system had logged on as an administrator which seemed strange for a mundane enquiry. Although she stood relaxed and easy, she may as well have been welded to the glass for all her ability to pull away. She thought to make a comment to the android girl seated across the counter, “Hey, what’s going on?” or words to that effect, but found the inertia of simply standing patiently to be overwhelming.
The pretty administrative robot tapped efficiently away a her keypad behind the counter and Abby felt the sensation of several core files being altered: micro personality pre-sets being delicately activated and blocked. She was completely aware of the process but only mildly curious to find that she felt no anger or distress whatsoever as she underwent involuntary reprogramming to better suit her employer’s policy.
Abby smiled and withdrew her manicured fingers from the smooth glass as the other unit logged out of her system.
“Thank thank thank jerrrrrrrr” Abby’s head and shoulders jerked with an almost audible click as she reset. “Thank you for your help.”
“No problem Miss West! Just page admin if you need any further support. Have a nice day!”
Abby walked more calmly back to her tiny cubicle. She had no need of home comforts, any unpleasantness from reclining uncovered on the cold, hard table to charge was nothing more than programming for the benefit of observers, of which there were none in her room. She was simply a machine and, on her return, carefully hung up her clothes and lay back naked on the cold plastic to gaze blankly at the ceiling. After a short while her features hardened subtly as her CPU entered standby and she ceased to be until her internal clock re-started her for the next timetabled event.
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- BA2
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Don't be upset - it's only a story!
Its open ended so you can have whatever you like happen afterwards. perhaps she is reprogrammed very frequently and, although each change seems rather abrupt to us 'analogue' human beings, maybe for an electronic mind that is the only way they can change and develop. I'm sure she'll be fine in the long run whatever.
BA
Its open ended so you can have whatever you like happen afterwards. perhaps she is reprogrammed very frequently and, although each change seems rather abrupt to us 'analogue' human beings, maybe for an electronic mind that is the only way they can change and develop. I'm sure she'll be fine in the long run whatever.
BA
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If you would like a certain thing in a story, feel free to write that story. Probably BA just doesn't share your particular taste. I thought the story was well written, but it didn't especially do much for me, so I didn't comment. Positive feedback is hugely motivating, I find, and there are enough people writing in enough different styles for us all to encourage more of the stories we actually like.
And I realise there's a fine line between interpreting a critical comment as constructive or unduly harsh, but I also think it's important to ensure authors feel motivated to continue contributing.
And I realise there's a fine line between interpreting a critical comment as constructive or unduly harsh, but I also think it's important to ensure authors feel motivated to continue contributing.
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I understand completely, and I'm sorry if I caused offense with my last remark. This story is up to your usual standards, a very well-paced and intriguing tale even at its short length. It stuck with me for some time afterward, and that's a testament to its effect. I couldn't help but be tremendously upset by the ending, at least from my narrow human viewpoint, because of what I felt to be an unjust violation upon a character for whom we, as an audience, felt empathy. For a story to elicit that reaction means it has more than achieved its goals.BA2 wrote:Don't be upset - it's only a story!
BA
- BA2
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Debate is a great thing and I'm always interested to hear what people think. Good or bad doesn't matter so much as a bit of thought, which I think all the above represent and for which I'm grateful.
I suppose there's part of me which isn't entirely comfortable with some of the darker edges to 'our thing', even though it is only fantasy. I any case this was more of a word doodle than a fully fledged story so I agree that it probably isn't as satisfying as it could be. The idea came to me on moving in to a very sterile bit of temporary living space myself (no - not a padded cell!) and getting to think about functionality...
Out of interest the other story was inspired by a very pretty picture which I hope to modify soon for those who like that sort of thing.
BA
I suppose there's part of me which isn't entirely comfortable with some of the darker edges to 'our thing', even though it is only fantasy. I any case this was more of a word doodle than a fully fledged story so I agree that it probably isn't as satisfying as it could be. The idea came to me on moving in to a very sterile bit of temporary living space myself (no - not a padded cell!) and getting to think about functionality...
Out of interest the other story was inspired by a very pretty picture which I hope to modify soon for those who like that sort of thing.
BA
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It is ambiguous isn't it? Which is okay.
Were Abigail's preferences part of her personality, or basically arbitrary independent settings? Did Abigail lose any of her personality in the room, or just the facade the natural humans expect?
A conscious, self-aware, and human-minded android might regard the emulation of some organic functions unnecessary and/or distracting. If they are dropped that's one thing. If they are replaced with something similar, e.g. sleeping in a charging booth vs. sleeping in a bed, why is the organic function more "human" than the robotic one?
And that's setting aside androids which are not conscious, or ones which are conscious but who have personalities constructed, not copied, along nonhuman lines.
Were Abigail's preferences part of her personality, or basically arbitrary independent settings? Did Abigail lose any of her personality in the room, or just the facade the natural humans expect?
A conscious, self-aware, and human-minded android might regard the emulation of some organic functions unnecessary and/or distracting. If they are dropped that's one thing. If they are replaced with something similar, e.g. sleeping in a charging booth vs. sleeping in a bed, why is the organic function more "human" than the robotic one?
And that's setting aside androids which are not conscious, or ones which are conscious but who have personalities constructed, not copied, along nonhuman lines.
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Though it was short, this was one of the most effective stories I've seen in a long time. I'd like to see more stories which play with the "reality manipulation" element of the 'bot. "Sleeper" stories generally do this a little, but BA, as usual, finds more places to take an interesting plot device.
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