“Are you alright, ma’am?” A kind-faced man approaches, wearing a yellow hard hat and a navy NTSB jacket.
Squatting on my heels, I shake off the vision and stand. “Yeah. Thanks. Head injury. Still queasy.”
No other clues here, I go home, power up my computer, and search social media posts of the crane lifting the helicopter out of the water. While I work, I remember my commitment to AITechnoRobotics and address the half torso on my coffee table.
“Hello Jonathan.”
The bartender robot swivels toward the sound of my voice and opens its vinyl lids. The way the eyes glisten, you’d swear they were real.
Blinking once, he emulates my frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Bad day.” I place my camera phone in a holder and hit record.
The one-of-a-kind prototype turns his gloved palms up in the air. “I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Not really.” I hold my breath. In the last version, Jonathan took me at my word but I’m hoping, like a real friend, he’ll press me a little more.
“You can tell me. What went wrong?” Eyebrows raised, he tilts his head, and blinks, waiting for me to answer.
“I lost something and had an argument with someone I care about.”
“My condolences.”
“No one died.” I make a note of the programming bug.
“My mistake.” His recovery isn’t bad. I’ve had human friends say much worse.
I narrow down my troubles to just one. “My boyfriend and I had a big fight.”
His mouth widens into a creepy smile. “You’re very beautiful. I would do you in a heartbeat.”
“You don’t have a cock.” Laughing, I imagine customers testing his coding.
He winks. “My hands are clever.”
Good God. When they hear this, his developers are going to laugh their asses right off their ergonomic chairs. Hell, the way my love life is going, I might take him up on his offer.
“I leave work at one. Can you stick around until then? I have hundreds of ways to pleasure you.”
“Goodnight Jonathan.” Snickering and yet horrified, I return to searching for the black box, but I’m interrupted by my robotic dog. He barks and drops a squeaky toy by my feet, but I have no time for fetch and put him to sleep. “Not now, pup.”
The R2-D2 shaped robot thinks I’m speaking to her and wakes. “Want to play Scrabble?”
“No. Goodnight Trixie.”
Desperate for human interaction, I call my friend Sam. “Hey, I have a huge favor to ask. I need help searching the internet. Can I use your AI application?” Other than the NYPD and the US government, she is the only person I’m certain has access to Jason.
“Ah… yeah… but it charges by the minute.” Her apologetic tone suggests the cost is more than she can afford, and I feel bad for asking.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“Don’t be.” Following a bit of silence, her voice brightens. “Hey, how about you speak to Dr. Jones? She’s working on a new prototype and needs feedback. You have robotic experience. I’ll call her for you. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
“Perfect. Thanks. I owe you.” I’m dying to ask if she has any work for me, but she’s already done me a solid.
I’m sure she’d tell me if she had need of a pilot or an investigator.
“What’s going on?” Her husband calls her a trouble magnet and based on my experience, he might be right. That’s why I hesitate but soon, the entire world will know so what does it matter.
