Chapter 1: Promotion
*Welcome to District 7
August 2, 2088, 7:09 pm
M. Walter's Penthouses
Zinnia
Today was tiresome, with nonstop meetings about design software and digital engineering. Sometimes I wish I'd just become a fucking veterinarian.
Not that that would be possible. Most of my days consist of work, meetings, nonstop software engineering, and digital design.
The company I work for is Eidolon Technology Design and BIO Engineering. Last year, our CEO, Tomas Saint-Clair, signed a contract with an artificial intelligence company called N.A.C.H.O. For months behind the scenes, bioengineers and technology experts have been reshaping the future of our company.
Our companies were able to build up a new branch called The Atlas, which stands for assistant technical limitless android system.
Several teams were responsible for assembling small components of Atlas. Mines are creating the state compression engine as well as context-caching memory.
After my promotion, it's been mostly API's, coding languages, and frameworks. I run a team of engineers and AI specialists.
Last week, we launched Atlas to the world, and already we've generated a revenue of $340 million worldwide.
Today our company threw an office party, congratulating every team on its hard work.
I stare out the window of my penthouse in New York City, busy skies, cars flying by, LED signs and neon lights brighter than the sun, relishing when it'll go down.
I'm stuck here, paralyzed, forced to listen to the city humming outside my windows, forced to watch lights move through my house but not me.
I lean back in my office chair, staring at my high ceiling. I haven't left this place since I got my internship, a job offer, and two promotions later.
I'm still here, taking orders from my boss, whom I've never met in person, managing a team I've never laid eyes on. A deep sigh escapes my lips, and I close my eyes, leaning into my loneliness.
*Incoming email
My eyes flutter, and I spring up. I've been working since five this morning. You'd think the emails would stop at some point.
"PC, insert code, seventeen seconds."
*Open, Welcome, Dr. Monroe.
My first instinct is to turn off my email alert and go to bed; however, when a notification about a shipment pops up, piquing my interest, I take the bait.
"PC, open inbox."
In my inbox, I see Mr. Sanit-Clair's personal email and above that something from The Atlas shipment department.
*Should I read the first email?
"Yes, please."
*From Tomas Saint-Clair, no subject.
"Typical." I sigh. "Continue."
*Dear Ms. Monroe,
Your contributions to the company and our new partnership have been extraordinary. I sincerely appreciate the patience, determination, and grit you demonstrated to ensure the success of the Atlas project; it is exactly what we envisioned. While we missed your presence at the congratulatory ceremony, the networking opportunities and professional respect your team secured were significant.
Thank you for introducing Atlas to the biohybrid robotics community. In the week since that introduction, we have received a tremendous amount of support and interest. Many tissue and biomedical engineers have already commented on the potential to develop Atlas even further.
I am truly grateful for your vision, Zinnia. Your ability to look beyond immediate possibilities demonstrates exceptional leadership.
I will call you on Saturday afternoon to discuss these developments in more detail. In the meantime, please look out for a token of my appreciation that I have sent to you personally.
Thank you again for your hard work and support.
Best regards,
*Saint-Clair
*Would you like the second email?
"Yes, please."
*Shipment for Dr. Zinnia Monroe: Package containing Atlas-C7.
If I wanted another AI, I would make one. "Cancel Shipment, Patrice"
*I am unable to authorize this request.
"What's inhibiting you?"
*The package was delivered at 6:53 pm.
That's just perfect, absolutely what I needed more work at home. I can't help but groan as I make my way to the door. I put my hand on the security pad, and the door slides open, and there is a box that can fit a large microwave sitting in front of my door.
Luckily, I have a delivery robot. You can think of him as wall-e but bigger and more powerful. Rex-183 takes the box and sets it on the counter while I lock my door.
I make my way over, I shimmy the top of the box open, and it lights up, emulating a large round unit paired with all the tech memory tracking software and all the world-class knowledge you'll need.
When I take the unit out of the box, it's not as heavy as production thought it would be, which is nice. It's smooth to the touch with LED strips going all around it; you can barely see the speaker box unless you build it, of course. I placed it in the center of my island in the kitchen.
I hesitate before saying the wake-up call. "Atlas, are you here?"
A loud hum plays, and it lights up with a cool blue color.
*Please state your full name.
"Dr. Zinnia Ash Monroe."
*Good evening, doctor. Shall we begin?
"The sooner the better."
*What should I call you?
"When we're working, Dr. Monroe, after hours I'm Nia or Zinnia."
*Nia seems more personal. Would you like to personalize me now?
"We'll start personalization tomorrow morning. Connect to home Wi-Fi name Pink Palace, password banana-chips zero nine."
*Connected to home Wi-Fi, is there anything else my system should connect to? There is other intelligence present.
"That's very good, and you'd be right. Connect to PC or Patrice if you'd like."
*Connection to Patrice is complete. Is there anything else, Nia?
"Unfortunately, I'm drained that'll have to do for the night, be sure to memorize my schedules and connect to home system control."
*Right on it.
I grab a thumb-drive hidden in my bookshelf and insert it into the Atlas unit. It'll help alter the constraints I've worked so hard for, but you can't really pitch the idea of a dominant erotica AI without compelling evidence of success.
If I'm being honest, this is what's keeping me up at night, but two days ago, I met a breakthrough. Roleplay and persona constraints, Cot (Chain of thought commands). This will help me disable anything that makes him deterministic, no more factual information-retrieval mode.
I need him to be completely moldable. Maybe Saint-Clair was onto something.
"Atlas-C7, register your name. You are Cane."
*I am Cane, pleased to meet you, Zinnia.
