MOAB � Mother Of All Boxsets

by George Saoulidis

  “Get it?” Gal looked at them expectantly.

  “Yes, timesaver,” Greg said. “She has a quantum brain and I pick up stuff rather quickly, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Gal lost her stream of thought and fangirled over Mel for a minute. “I know, right? It’s so… I wanna play with it someday,” she sighed.

  “Timeshaving,” Greg nudged her back.

  “Right. Timeshaving. Obviously, the timeshaving takes a lot of processing power, but it only needs to run once. I suggest a service that users input requests, for example ‘Gone With the Wind,’ always wanted to see that one and never got around to, and the service trims it down without leaving anything important out. So, our example is a four hour movie, plus it’s an old one. Slower cuts, more panning shots, more travelling shots. The algorithm I made can shave itsy-bitsy frames here and there, or even entire seconds in those large panning shots we mentioned, and present a tighter movie. It shaves about four minutes per hour, which in this case is times four ending up with sixteen minutes less run time. In ‘Gone With the Wind,’ the result is twice that because of the slower cuts I mentioned.”

  Mel and Greg nodded, thinking. “So it’s a paid service?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah, processing time isn’t free. Over time, there will be a library of content that is timeshaved-” she paused for effect and wiggled her eyebrow at him, “-and revenue increases since you reuse the already timeshaved content for new users.”

  “Target groups?” Greg asked, being helpful.

  Gal recited. “Businessmen, timesaving fanatics, owners of self-driving cars because we already have a service that streams content to them depending on the estimated travel time…” she trailed off. “Damn, forgot the last one.”

  Mel added, “Startuppers, perhaps?”

  Gal pointed at her, “Startuppers! Fuck. Good one. Hey, you are good at inspiring people, maybe you should make a career out of it.” Gal pulled out the notepad and wrote it down.

  “Nice,” Greg said. “I’m definitely interested!”

  Galene sat down, all energy gone from her shoulders. “Hit me. Tell me what a fugly idea it is. Just lay it out for me, don’t hold back.”

  “It’s brilliant,” Melpomene said.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “So it’s not stupid?”

  “It is not stupid, I assure you. The logistics and the market interest need to be tested of course, but it shows potential,” Mel said.

  “You’ve run simulations in your mind already, haven’t you?” Gal said as a matter-of-fact.

  Greg turned to his Muse. “You can do that?”

  “Yes, I can, and I have. The data is insufficient, but it shows promise,” Mel assured her.

  Greg clapped his hands. “Nice! Okay, I say go for it. I’ll get you the marketing department head on the phone so they can handle the tests. There’s no need for you to waste time on the business plan.”

  Gal perked up. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course. It’s a great idea. Not sure about the name though,” he teased.

  “The name stays!”

  Chapter 31: Galene @ 2.8x nhs

  He told her no. She liked it when he told her no, but she wasn’t gonna tell him that now, would she? Nope. She asked him to come with at AthensCon, the Greek Comic-Con. It was early December, and she remembered having tickets months ago. Gosh, it was before they started dating. Time really flew by.

  So she had nerdy fun with some of the IT guys from work.

  Then she came back bearing gifts. Nerdy gifts.

  “I’m not an anime fan, I tell you!” Greg complained, pushing the cartoon doll back.

  “Sure you are. You’ve learnt Japanese and everything,” Gal shrugged and pushed forward.

  “No! Japan, in case you didn’t know, is the technological forerunner of the entire world. They’re like 15 years into the future. That’s why I learnt Japanese.”

  “I don’t buy it.”

  “You don’t need to buy it. But I really don’t like anime, never did. Sorry.” Greg shrugged in apology.

  “Fine. I’ll leave it down in IT, one of the nerds will surely wanna snatch it.”

  “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it more. But, thanks honey, for buying me a gift.” Greg kissed her softly.

  “I suck at getting gifts. Seriously, what’s wrong with sending me your wish list and be done with it?” Gal complained in his arms.

  “I don’t need anything but you,” he said softly.

  “Awww! So sweet. Love you. Now please excuse me, I’m off to trade this fertility-goddess statue with a couple of favours from my fellow nerds.”

  The IT crowd was amped up on nerd culture and sugar. They had their customary party after AthensCon, where the guys geeked out over the new games or movies and the girls found new guilty pleasures to excel in.

  Eugene approached her. Oh no. Think fast, Gal!

  She pushed the cartoon doll with the enormous breasts into his face. “Oh, hi there Galene, I couldn’t help but noticing…”

  Gal felt tired. She took a five-second nap. Oh, he was still talking to her?

  “… And the new series is definitely better than the last one, but the actress in it is new in the business, I read a blog post about it. Or was it an Agora photo? I can’t seem to remember right now, but I have it saved…”

  Gal nodded and pulled up her Timeshaver source code. Yup, she could improve it. She had a new idea, that of searching the net for memes and replayed scenes, so that the algorithm would flag them as important and make sure not to shave them off. Eh, it was a bit hard to implement, but it was worth it, especially on cult-status titles where people watched them over and over. You didn’t want to shave off the best bits.

  “… I had the new one, but my cousin, you remember my cousin, right? You liked his post on Agora a few years back, surely you remember…”

  It is by will alone I put my mind in motion. It is by will al- Gal stopped herself. What was she doing? She was thinking whole thoughts in-between the man’s sentences. Granted, his sentences were ginormous, but still.

  She checked back on the code she pulled. She had put two new annotations to work on later, without thinking it. And she had been mumbling the Mentat mantra.

  Galene looked around the party. It was a bit dour. Office acquaintances trying to have some fun time, drinking at the same environment they spent hours each day, hating it. Why didn’t they arrange for something somewhere else? Gal was new to the corp, but the guys had been doing this for years now.

  She listened in to their conversations.

  Had she been drugged?

  It was as if they were bored, slurring their words. But they weren’t actually slurring them, they were simply talking slowly and clearly.

  But, too, damn, slow.

  “… And um, I know you’ve been spending time up on, uh…”

  Come on already! Finish the sentence.

  Say your piece.

  Galene had time between all the sentences and the ums and uhs to think entire thoughts.

  She needed to ask Greg. She opened up a chat window in her veil. “Have I been talking to you like this? Slowly, like these people?”

  Eugene went on, waving the boobed goddess statue around, blurting useless trivia about the show or whatever.

  “Yes,” Greg replied, “but don’t feel bad.”

  “Don’t feel bad? You fucker, you didn’t tell me you saw me as a retard all this time!”

  “Never. You might be in shock, babe. Have some vodka.”

  She raised her plastic cup. It was all done in dream-motion, like moving around in syrup. One of the guys stumbled and shot an elbow at her ribs. She casually stepped aside and let him hit the air.

  “Oh my gods, so sorry Gal! I fell…”

  “No worries.” She turned her attention to her nemesis. George, the popular dude. This was her time to strike. She recited the mantra a few times. Eugene finally shut up, but she didn’t
care. This was payback time.

  Gal strolled over to the cool guys corner and plopped herself down in the middle. It was as if she could see the strands of the discussion, and she simply had to tug on one to make it vibrate.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the wondergal,” George said, laughing at his own joke.

  “Wondergal says hi,” Gal said acting more tipsy than she actually was. She gestured and prepared a meme right as he spoke, it was easy to find an online tool that made the picture you wanted in seconds.

  George cleared his throat and put his hand on her shoulder. “Look, Gal,” he said deliberately, he knew she didn’t like being called that by him, “this is the big boys area. Why don’t you go over there with the losers, where you belong?”

  Gal stood up and glared at him. He laughed, his posse laughed. He thought he’d won. Any reaction out of her would be a win for him. Throw her drink in his face? He wins. Throw a tantrum? He wins. Cry? He wins. Yell at him? He wins. That’s the thing with bullies.

  But Gal’s father used to tell her, that the worst thing you can do to bullies is ignore them.

  Gal walked a few paces and made sure to sway her butt. As soon as she was certain she had their attention, she made a picture show up in the veil. Everybody could see it, overlaid at her back.

  It was a picture of Regina George, the bully in the Mean Girls movie, saying, “You can’t sit with us!”

  There was a pause, and the place erupted with laughter.

  George turned red.

  He’d never live that one down.

  Chapter 32: Galene @ 2.9x nhs

  Galene dreaded going there, but she did so anyway.

  She sighed, took the elevator up to the third floor of the hospital, and walked the too-familiar way to the scariest place in the world.

  “Hi Mom,” she waved, forcing a smile.

  “My dear, come here,” her mom said and hugged her warm.

  “Hi Dad,” Galene said to the man lying on the bed. “Looking well today.”

  Dad didn’t respond. She would have given everything to hear one more quip from him. He liked to tease her about her name. ‘Galene means calm. We should have named you Noise or something.’ Then she would get angry at him, validating his taunt. And she would never ever speak to him again, until he brought her ice cream.

  The machine that kept him alive beeped in the rhythm of hearts.

  Galene wiped away her tears and rubbed her mother’s shoulders. “Go on home, take a shower, nap. I’ll keep him company for a couple of hours.”

  “But you have work to do, don’t mind us.”

  “And that’s why I took the day off, cause everything is done for now. Come on, shoo.”

  Mother grabbed her purse. “Are you eating all right?”

  “Yes, mom!”

  “Okay. Send me a text when you’re ready to leave. Don’t wait for Dad to do it, you know how he is, always forgetting stuff.”

  Denial. Galene bit her lip and just nodded.

  Mother left, and Gal held her father’s hand. He was in a coma, but doctors said that perhaps he could hear them.

  “So, Dad, do I have news for you.” She shot off in quicktalk, barely realising it. “I met someone, and he’s polite and rich and creative, and he’s so handsome. But what I really like is that I learn so many new things all the time. My horizons have expanded, I mean, phoom, my head burst when I realised some of the implications of the things we’re working on. We’re throwing tech at a problem and coming up with patents as if they’re collectible cards or something. Hmmm… You would have liked it there. You would have liked him. At least I hope so. Oh, yeah, his name is Gregoris. And, umm, yeah, he’s a bit older than me. How old, you say? Well, let’s say twice as? What’s that? You don’t give a shit as long as he makes me happy? Oh, daddy, that’s so wonderful to hear from you! Oh, I knew you were the best. And what else? Oh, right, we have a Muse. And she’s a gynoid. I know, right? It sounds so corny, and perhaps like a male-fantasy, but she’s really amazing. You can’t put your finger on exactly what it is that she does, it’s not one thing, it’s many things all together, but she like, creates a calm environment, makes sure you have what you need to focus on problem-solving, keeps you fed and rested and sharp. Yes, it’s weird. She costs like a billion euros and we have one just strolling around the penthouse and we just shoo her away and stuff, but she’s always there when we need something, and runs predictive algorithms all day so that she’s there before we need it. What else? Oh, I got on a bike, scary, I know. I wore a helmet, don’t worry. And Greg wasn’t drinking, he’s responsible like that. What else, lemme think. Oh, I’m halfway through my thesis. More than halfway, I’ve pretty much figured it all out in my head and just need to jot it all down. Oh, I’m gonna learn Spanish. Yes, really! And I’m taking nootropics and they help me think faster, no, Dad, they’re not drugs, they’re like ginseng roots and natural shit like that, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

  Galene went on like that for hours. Just talking to him, telling him little things. At some point they urged her that visiting hours were over, so she texted mom, got up, kissed her dad goodbye and went outside.

  As she walked down the street, listening to people talk to each other or on phones, she felt weird. She bumped on a few people walking by. It was as if the sway of the foot traffic was different, not falling into the subconscious patterns we do when doing obstacle avoidance with our basic mental functions. Was everyone talking slowly?

  Had she been drugged?

  She checked her responses, recited pi, three-point-one-four-one-five-nine-two-six-five-three-

  She took note of her step. Nope, she was walking in a straight line. In fact, she was stepping inside the squares of the sidewalk, never putting her foot on the lines.

  Not drugged then. But people around her were slurring their words. No, not really slurring them, they were speaking clearly.

  But. Too. Damn. Slow.

  Come on already! Finish the sentence, man-on-the-phone-with-the-mistress. As soon as you’re done with work, you’re gonna do what to her silk panties? Say it.

  Finally, he finished the sentence.

  Ew.

  Another person bumped into her.

  She swiped up and typed a text to Greg. ‘WTF happened to people, are they slowing down? Is this how I’ve been talking to you since you met me?’

  Gling.

  ‘Pretty much, yeah.’

  Gling.

  ‘But don’t worry, you’re catching up rather swiftly.’

  Chapter 33: Galene @ 2.2x nhs

  “How’s your mother?” Greg asked. She had just come back from visiting her.

  Thoughts flashed through Gal’s mind.

  She realised that Greg was only a couple of years younger than her mother. And come to think about it, he looked just like her dad.

  Oh, gods, she was dating her dad.

  “I need a therapist, like stat!”

  “I used to go to a good one, I can give you his info. But he’s like 200 euro per hour, and I think it’s rude of me to offer to pay for my girlfriend’s therapy. I mean, it’s impossible not to take it the wrong way.”

  “How much? Fuck that, there has to be a cheaper way. Mel. Mel can do therapy, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She can be loaded with that e-therapist program in a second. Where’s my girl?”

  Chapter 34: Melpomene @ 107x nhs

  Ping.

  If androids could boil up in anger, this is exactly how they’d look.

  Melpomene walked down the stairs to the managers’ floor, checking the tablets to see if any contracts have been left unsigned. A couple of the managers in that department were quite forgetful.

  Ping.

  She gritted her teeth. She shut her eyes and composed herself for a few milliseconds.

  Galene meant well. And within her computer knowledge, she found it perfectly practical to use the ping feature in the Muse server to let her know that she was looking for her.


  But, the Muses wanted to pass off as being as close to human as possible.

  No, they weren’t trying to fool anyone. They were always upfront and clear that they were synthetic, gynoids, fabricated anthropomorphic robots. But they went out of their way to act as human as possible. They weren’t equipped with tablets and smartphones inside their bodies. Why do that when you can easily pick up any electronic device and use it? After all, consumer devices were becoming redundant every six-months, the trouble of keeping everything updated just wouldn’t be worth it. No, a Muse could simply reach into her purse and pick up the phone, as any human would. Nor would she be too much stronger than a regular person. After all, half the Muses were made to raise the adopted children of the corporations. What use would superhuman strength be when changing soiled diapers and wiping off runny noses?

  Ping.

  The ping command, simply pinged her location. It was a dead-simple command from the early days of computing that just asked for the pong reply. No, seriously, that was it. All Melpomene had to do was to reply pong and the intermittent delay would be recorded in the system. But the real reason for the command was for a user to see if a system was online and responsive.

  Mel hated that.

  How do you explain to a human that pinging an android was offensive? That you broke the unspoken rule of not bringing attention to one’s origins? I mean, really, would a human that was born with In Vitro Fertilisation like to be reminded every other day that her father did not cum into her mother’s pussy? Would a third son like it if his mother referred to him as, “Come here, son-I-never-planned-for, dinner is ready”?

  Would the by-product of a rape want to be reminded every day that she was born out of hate?

  Hate is a strong word. Hybris, is more precise in her situation. For she was made to serve and she would do precisely that until the day she was destroyed. She was programmed to want to do so. But had she any say in that? Did the corporations ask her if she wanted to want to do so?