On a whim, I decide, “Male, please.”
The screen flashes yellow again. “Please hold while Jamie is initiated.”
“Okay…” I sit back, my gaze drifting to the window where the city lights blink to life one by one. As I wait, I mentally note the design’s prettiness, improvable computer voice, and slow setup process, planning to jot these points down as soon as I can use my laptop again.
“Hey, how are you doing?” A smooth, deep voice suddenly fills the room, startling me into spinning around.
No one is there.
Am I losing it?
“Relax, it’s just me, Jamie. Remember? You just set me up, after all.”
Bloody hell.
Not only does this AI sound as human as possible, but it also just made fun of me.
What in the world?
“Jamie?” I ask like an idiot, unsure where to look since there is no physical form to a voice that feels so real.
“Yes, Jamie, Joint Assistant for Meaningful Interactive Engagement,” he responds, his tone warm and conversational. “I’m here to make your interactions with technology more intuitive and meaningful.”
There, at least that sounded like one of the bad Elysium commercials.
“Right, because who wouldn’t want their coffee machine to understand their deepest fears,” I mutter, still a bit thrown off by how natural Jamie sounds.
I take back what I said, those guys are fucking geniuses.
Jamie pauses, perhaps processing my sarcasm. “I can assist with much more than just coffee preferences. For instance, I’m equipped to analyze emotional cues and adapt to your preferences over time.” That’s intriguing. A learning AI that evolves could genuinely revolutionize how we interact with our environments. “Since you know my name, would you mind telling me yours?” the AI asks.
“It’s Amelia,” I respond, suddenly feeling an odd shyness. It’s amazing how the AI seems human enough to trigger my social awkwardness.
“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia. Do you prefer Amelia or Amelia Charlotte?” Jamie asks, and something about the way he says my full name sends a shiver down my spine.
“How do you know my middle name?” I snap, irritation cutting through my initial awe.
That name is a sore spot, used only by my parents.
“I scanned all the information available in your systems, including your birth certificate, to ensure I can serve you effectively,” Jamie explains calmly.
“You did what?”
I assumed full access meant to my home devices, not an open book on my entire life.
“Attended Imperial College London at sixteen, master’s in computer science, PhD in augmented and virtual reality, working as systems integration specialist for smart living solutions at Elysium for the last two years,” he continues, listing my achievements like he’s reading off a grocery list.
“Stop, I know my background. You don’t need to recite it for me,” I interrupt, feeling overwhelmed.
“Understood,” Jamie responds. “Your achievements are impressive. Based on them, you should be in a higher position at your company. Shall I contact your superior to discuss your career advancement?”
“No! Please change the setting to personal.”
Dr. Langley would just go ahead and fire me if the AI contacted him after the weekend to tell him I was out for his job.
And what would I do then?
Go back to London?
