RoboNomics

Chapter 30

"It seems like it happened so fast, doesn't it?" I say to Chris one day as we sit in adjacent chairs at the rickety conference table. Sometimes I feel like all he wants from me is to be a glorified secretary for him. Most days, I pull up information for him to consult while he shouts at people on the phone.

"What does?"

"Well, you know -- this whole, Scourge thing." The nickname feels awkward to say out loud. "I can remember when robots were just pre-programmed or remote-control toys. How is it that they do our jobs now? And even better than we can?"

"Don't say that, Anderson. It's not true."

"Isn't it? I'm not sure I could compete with these things even if they let me."

"You can't say that. Don’t even think it -- we can't lose hope." For a moment, he looks as though he’s about to yell at me.

"I guess it was when they were finally able to communicate with each other," I say in a rush, hoping his emotion will pass. "You remember when that happened? It was all over the news -- robots able to share information instantly and wirelessly. They heralded it as a massive step forward for automation. I thought it was just a line they were trying to sell us.”

"Yeah. I guess it's too bad for us that they were right." We sit in silence a moment. "So," he suddenly says. "Your husband doesn't like talking about this stuff?"

"Not so much. He's not really worried about the how or why about it all. He's more concerned with getting us out of our financial -- hey. Wait a second. Who told you I was married?"

He looks down at my hand on my FlexScreen.

"Oh. Right," I self-consciously put my left hand beneath the table. "And what about you?" I ask, drawing his attention away from the topic of Austin. "Your hand tells me that you don't have a wife."

"Nope.”

"Girlfriend?”

"Not really."

I slide myself forward on the mesh seat until I'm sitting on the edge. I cup my knees with my palms. "What does that mean?"

"There's someone." My heart drops. "But you know, it's not really serious or anything." I plaster a friendly smile on my face. It feels like a hard plastic mask hanging from my cheeks. "What's her name?" I ask through my teeth.

"Uh...her name? Jen." He takes a deep breath and I think, for a second, that I’ve heard all he wants to tell. "She's this pharmacist I met really randomly when I used to work. I guess I should say that she was a pharmacist. But you know, she's supposed to get serious with like a doctor, lawyer, or corporate type. I guess in the meantime she just needs me to fill some need or something. And I'm okay with being a placeholder."

"I'm sure she cares about you," I offer. I can't imagine being with someone I wasn’t serious about.

“Who knows? And frankly, I don’t really care.” He scowls at the FlexScreen in his hands. Maybe his anger is just a way to avoid being hurt.

“Look...I’m sorry I...insulted you before,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“About your job. I guess I just don’t understand why anyone would choose to do what you do. I thought people did that when they had no other options.”

“What? Picking up garbage?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I tried the other way. Your way and Jen’s way. Get educated, do an important and intellectual job. It just didn’t fit. I just never felt the way I do after a full day of physical work. That body tired -- it’s so satisfying. At least to me.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You’re...you’re educated?”

His gaze flicks rapidly back and forth as he looks into my eyes. "You don't really want to hear about my dysfunctional life. Besides, we have work to do."