06 – Lunch

Eric – March 26^th 2050 – Location classified (presumed Midwest)

After the briefing, Eric left the room for the canteen. It had taken a few hours to discuss all the parts of the mission, despite the majority of the work had already been done beforehand. What surprised Eric was the fact that not only did they bring them all up to speed, him and the rest of the crew, but they also talked at length about all their concerns.

Every opinion was valued, every piece of advice taken into consideration. It was a refreshing new way of working Eric was not yet used to. In fact, his previous job was still one of the old school ones, following a standard corporate structure.

Their company had not yet been touched by the Machine, and it showed. So much potential wasted, was the comment the Machine privately told Eric. He had to agree, although he was not sure whether the AI was referring to him in particular or to the company in general. She assured him she had meant to purchase the company and make it better, like she always did whenever she could, but neither the CEO, nor the board were interested. Old gooneys, fixated on ancient methods and on profit. They would all disappear in due time, she assured him.

There six people left the room together, leaving the Machine’s hologram behind. It was in the form of a short but muscular woman, with a pixie cut of bright golden hair. It flickered and disappeared as they all left the room.

“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” David, one of the five of the crew, asked Eric. He did not reply, however, as he still was in a kind of daze trying to digest all the new information.

“The moon! I mean, I saw the ad, but I never thought I’d fly again.” Interjected Bertrand. He was a man of the old guard. Former NASA. And he had been to space, for real. He was the head of this mission, the man tasked with guiding the other four to space for their first time. He seemed much more excited now than he was back in the room. Perhaps he had switched gears, going from work mode to informal mode.

With them was Justin, someone from high up whose power and influence went beyond what Eric could fathom, not a part of the crew of course. Then there were David, Annette, Mary-Lou, and Eric himself as the crew, with Bertrand as their coordinator. There were no strict ranks, since they would still be in range for instantaneous communications with the Machine for the totality of the trip. There was no need for hierarchy.

Their implants would work as well, so it would fall to the Machine and the team on Earth to coordinate them as they worked on the Moon’s surface. Bertrand was there as backup, just in case. Eric didn’t personally know any of the crew, but they all seemed very likeable people. Well, except for work-mode Bertrand, but it was too early to form a concrete idea of his character. Perhaps it was only cold now that he didn’t know any of the others.

The canteen was just an open room with tables, which reminded him of the high school cafeterias he saw in the movies so much. There was no table service, so they all had to wait in line to be served. Food was free, though, one of the many perks of working for the Technocracy or one of its affiliated companies directed by the AI itself.

He ended up second in line, behind Justin. He tried to think about what to say to initiate conversation with him, but nothing came to mind. Bertrand came to his rescue, fortunately, initiating conversation himself.

“I was wondering,” the man said. His face was weathered and rugged, his grey beard and hair set him worlds apart from the other people in the room. “What made the Technocracy decide to man a mission to the moon. And a permanent one, at that.” He asked, tone once again stern and serious. There was something in the way he said the words, as if he was talking about the Nazis. There was hate there, perhaps.

“It’s simple, really. Luke summoned me, and the secretary-general, to the meeting office two days ago and told us to get our asses moving.” He said, smiling. He had been served and was waiting for the other of the crew to be served themselves before going to sit all together. He seemed to be staring directly into the other’s man’s eyes, looking at his soul. It was unsettling. Eric knew the man was reading something through his eye implants, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what.

“Really?” Asked Bertrand, one eyebrow raised.

“You don’t believe me?” Asked Justin. Now that Eric thought about it, this would probably be the last time they could chat with the man like this. If he was as high up the chain of command as he claimed to be, he probably had more important things to do than to babysit this lunch. The fact alone that he was here spoke of how much money had been moved to make it happen.

“I heard, and witnessed, how the Technocracy does things. Bureaucracy matters very little when there’s an AI that governs everything and decides everything. I still find it hard to believe, however, that all this has been prepared in the span of two days.” he said. His voice was low and raspy, like he had smoked all his life. Eric found it hard to believe, though, seeing just how muscular the man was. And, yeah, there was definitely a touch of resentment and hate in his voice.

“You’re right, in a way. While it’s true that the man summoned us only two days ago, things had been in motion for a bit longer. However, if it’s paperwork that you’re worried about, I suppose I could tell you that it took the better part of five milliseconds for the Machine to file it all. And with no human input required. Very handy.” Justin was smiling as he said those words, but his voice did not match his expression. He sounded annoyed. He was still doing his stare, but Bertrand did not seem fazed.

The old man grunted, but did not reply. He evidently had some reserve regarding the whole ‘AI’ thing.

“Anyway… as of now, you will have access to a direct machine interface for you to use. You can talk to it, chat with it, and request data and information whenever you need it.”

“Really!?” Asked Annette, clearly overly excited about it. She was young, perhaps in her late twenties, and carried all the enthusiasm Bertrand clearly had lost with his old age. She was on the other side of the spectrum compared to him. The others stayed silent, but were listening intently.

“Of course. I, personally, would prefer if you mostly queried about things relevant to the mission, but you can ask whatever you want.”

Lunch passed without much more talking, as everyone, Bertrand excluded, began to fiddle with their fingers in mid-air while they ate. In order to minimize noise, they had been asked to only use text for now, but they had been promised upgraded implants that could access surface thoughts, if they so desired.

A green-blue box appeared before Eric’s eyes. The color was his favorite, and it blended very well with the rest of his holographic interface. The machine clearly knew him well.

He typed in the box, using his eyes to highlight letters at a speed much faster than he could type with his fingers. The technology was amazingly accurate, but of course the AI taking care of recognizing the movement patters was none other than the Machine itself. There was no need to develop independent software to do these kinds of things, when you could have an intelligent, self-aware AI with processing power to spare and plenty of experience do all the work. The same was everywhere else, from optimization algorithms to voice recognition. It was all her.

“Why did you choose me?” he typed in the box. It was a question that had been on his mind all the time since he saw the advert outside of the church, but one he never asked. He didn’t want to bother Justin with this irrelevant question, and somehow asking the omniscient AI seemed much more private. More personal. And he was very well aware that he was not wasting her precious time, since he knew just how many things she could do at once. He was not even a drop in the ocean compared to all the background calculations she always ran.

‘I thought you would be a perfect fit. It had always been your dream, and it will give you a new purpose. You will, should you choose so, be able to permanently live on the Moon. To be one of the first colonists of a new world.’ She told him; her androgynous voice was the same as it was in the briefing room.

The briefing itself, he realized, had been done mostly to allow the crew to get to know each other. To help break the ice while still talking business. There was no actual need to hold the meeting, when all that was necessary was for the Machine to contact them individually and explain the project to them. Like she was about to do, most probably.

In any case, the answer was exactly what he thought it would be. Exactly what he needed it to be. At times it was unsettling, how much the AI seemed to understand him. And know exactly what he wanted, what he needed. And she provided him with all that, too. Who knew how many dreams she had managed to make into reality. How many children happy.

He decided to ask her just that.

‘A lot. But not as many as I would have liked. It is difficult, to make everyone happy. But I always try my best.’

He smiled. It was nice to know there was someone watching over humanity, taking care of them.