One
Lara Grey was not a morning person. She had been in the past. Many years ago. But then she had been a lot of things she no longer was. Like blissfully happy, genuinely hopeful, truly loved. She had been a beloved daughter. A treasured granddaughter. A member of a loving, supportive, tight-knit family. All those things were gone. Taken on that fateful day, almost fourteen years ago.
Yet today she awoke before the smart speaker in her bedroom sprung to life with the sound of chirping birds – the alarm tone she had set for seven-thirty this morning. Something that both surprised and pleased her.
Usually, the device blasted out the tone called Bright and Bubbly, which Lara thought was neither bright nor bubbly, and even with the volume set to the highest level, it often took at least a minute or two for it to wake her.
Once it had, she would groan into her pillow and grumble, ‘Stop,’ frequently needing to do so more than once before it finally recognised her sleep-addled command to be quiet. A ritual she was glad to do without today.
Recently, the thunder of traffic had added to the intensity of the alarm, since the roadworks on the nearby mini-roundabout had created a diversion via the road on which she lived, resulting in longer delays that had led to more honking of horns and stop-starting of engines. But even the traffic noise seemed quieter this morning.
Perhaps the work was now completed. Finally. Four months later than scheduled. Great timing – not. She would be away for at least a month from today.
Oh well. Where she was going, traffic wouldn’t be much of an issue. And the chirping of birds would be real. Although the dawn chorus would no doubt include whatever noise seagulls made first thing in the morning, as she would be sleeping a mere stone’s throw from the sea. Lara suspected that, despite the saying, this would be less of a chorus and more of a cacophony, especially if they all kicked off at dawn. Even so, she doubted it would wake her. But if it did, she wouldn’t have the luxury of being able to command it to stop, unlike she could with her smart speaker. She’d have to wait and see.
Stretching out her arms and legs, Lara rolled over and smiled at the white device perched on her bedside table. It wouldn’t know she was smiling, obviously, because this smart speaker was just a sphere without a screen.
Not that the smart speakers with screens, like the ones in her home office and her kitchen, could recognise a smile, either. They could, however, recognise her.
They were both equipped with cameras and sensors and facial recognition technology that could recognise her face, which meant they could display personalised content such as her calendar or reminders she had set. But this technology was based on recognising the person in front of the devices and not Lara’s emotions or facial expressions.
Lara had frequently tested this by pulling strange faces and giving related commands or asking relevant questions, like, ‘Do I look cross?’ To which the devices responded with, ‘Sorry. I don’t understand,’ or, more amusingly, with compliments such as, ‘I think you’re perfect, inside and out.’ Despite the obvious insincerity, those always brought a smile to Lara’s face.
One day, in the not-too-distant future, there would be smart speakers that could recognise facial expressions. She was certain of that. Perhaps she would need to be a little more careful of the questions she asked, when that happened. The devices might not be so complimentary then.
In addition to facial recognition, the two devices with screens in her home could also detect specific hand movements. Lara could hold her palm up to pause or stop music or other media and alarms, and she could use a swipe gesture to trigger a command.
On one occasion, she had been pretending to conduct an orchestra while one of her late paternal grandmother’s favourite symphonies had been playing on the smart speaker in the kitchen, and the device went doolally, as her gran would have said had she still been alive. Too many waves of her hands had caused it to turn off the music, turn it on again, and off again and … well, confusion had reigned, that was for sure.
Lara had considered getting a smart speaker with a screen for her bedroom, too, but although in theory, the device would not constantly be watching her every move, she didn’t like the idea of it being able to see whatever she might be doing in her bedroom.
Not that she did much at all in there, other than get dressed and undressed, get into and out of bed, and sleep. The number of times she had invited a man into her bedroom were few and far between.
The last time had been over a year ago when an on-off relationship of several months had run its course. And therelationship before that … well, she couldn’t really recall when that was. None had lasted long. None had been particularly memorable. Lara had never been in love.
But she was happy with her life. At least, as happy as she could be, given the circumstances. And today she was happier than usual. Today she was excited.
‘Cancel alarm,’ she trilled, still smiling at the speaker as she gave one of the quick phrase commands she had set up on her smart devices. She had set up a few of these commands so that her devices would do as she asked, without the need for a wake-up word.
‘Alarm cancelled,’ it replied.
Sometimes the only conversations Lara had on a daily basis were with her smart devices. Some people might find that sad, but not Lara. Not these days. Once, perhaps, many years ago, but not now. Lara was no longer a ‘people person’. If she ever had been.
Yes, she had been. Very much so. She had been a morning person too in those days. In fact, regardless of the time of day or night, Lara had once been a cheerful, trusting, vibrant person, full of enthusiasm with a zest for life. But that was a long time ago. Although sometimes it didn’t seem that long ago at all. Sometimes it felt like only yesterday. Not fourteen years. Almost.
Shaking her head to rid herself of any unwanted thoughts, sadness, or doubts, Lara nestled back under her duvet. Just for a second or two. There was a definite nip in the air this morning despite bright shafts of sunlight creeping in through the gap between her curtains.
‘What’s the weather today?’ she mumbled. A question she asked almost every day before she got out of bed, even though, as she worked from home, it made no difference what the weatherwas. Nevertheless, she had also set it up as a quick phrase that the smart speaker would recognise.
‘Sorry. I don’t understand,’ the smart speaker apologised. Sometimes it wasn’t as smart as it was supposed to be, but Lara wouldn’t say that.
‘What’s the weather today?’ Lara repeated slowly, raising her face from beneath the duvet and enunciating every word.
‘The weather today in Woking will be sunny with intermittent cloud. A high of eighteen and a low of fifteen.’
‘Not bad for the last day of September,’ Lara said, stretching once again, before throwing off the duvet and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. ‘I’d say it’s closer to fifteen than eighteen right now.’ The device did not respond.
Lara reached out and felt the radiator, which was hot to the touch. So hot that she snatched her hand away. But it was still early, so the heating hadn’t been on for long. It would take a while for her bedroom and the rest of her flat to reach an ambient temperature.
