Snags

The visitor sat in his friend’s lounge.

He hadn’t seen his longtime acquaintance for some time, having recently returned from working a two-year contract overseas. This time, his software programming skills had paid better abroad, but he was glad to be back home. The man he was visiting, like him, had the same programming knowledge, but a lot more besides. As a respected scientist, he had been heading up a research and development team in his own company, designing and building androids for over thirty years. Most recently, his work had broken through a barrier that he and his colleagues had been striving for. The robots they were now developing not only performed tasks after being given verbal commands, but were able to read the minds of those making a request, in order to fully carry out precisely what is required of them.

He had read about the scientist’s groundbreaking work in the press. He was not a fan. He could see all sorts of issues coming up with what was being created. He felt that a simpler program was sufficient; such as using a keypad to enter a code that corresponded with a particular task; the sort found on vending machines.

Despite this, the visitor knew the topic of these new, developing cyborg upgrades would come up. He didn’t like any of it and he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind on the matter. He was saying, “You know my thoughts on the subject. I’ve always considered that artificial intelligence could be taken too far for my liking; but this, this path is fraught with all sorts of hidden dangers.”

The scientist said, “Of course, there have been snags, but one by one they are being fixed with amendments being made to the code. We fully expected to have this sort of thing to deal with.” He grinned with pride. “Our marketing surveys have had a lot of positive feedback from several major organisations.”

The visitor shrugged. “Well, I for one,” he said, “would not be at all comfortable with some mechanical person having access to my private thoughts.”

“Really?”

His visitor smiled and shook his head. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but to be honest, I’d rather be dead than have one of these things in the same room as me.”

This statement was followed by his eyes closing, as he slumped to one side in his chair.

The scientist jumped up and felt for a pulse. There wasn’t one.

“Oh! dear,” he whispered, “another snag!”

15 thoughts on “Snags”

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