Ross tapped his mask, invoking a pop-up in the lower right of his view. Ten percent and dropping. Ross uttered a short curse. He should have checked it before he left for work this morning. As it was, he wasn't going to be home on LoveDay at the normal time with all the kissing and groping going on.
DVote and TruLove were ancient relics, having out-maneuvered each other in intense bouts of corporate sabotage and intrigue. Their legacy culminated in LoveDay, a sponsored event that had full government backing. Ross remembered a time when dating and wooing a potential partner was standard.
Now it had all been replaced by these infernal nanites.
The miniature machines released into the air like birds taking wing, drifting on micro-currents and thermals until they were inhaled by passers-by. Inside, they burrowed into the capillaries and rode into the brain, stimulating nerve centers to release dopamine and other compounds.
The end result was an all-out gropefest with glassy-eyed couplets pawing at each other, cheeks flush with amorous desire. Ross stepped over a pair humping on the side of the street, clothes torn from grasping hands. It was undignified. Ross understood love, or he thought he did.
The kind that simmered like a good stew, tended and cared for with quality ingredients. Perhaps that was his bias, as a cook he loved to take time when preparing a meal. Advances in technology had brought insta-meals and exotic flavors, but they couldn't hold a candle to something made from scratch.
That's what love should be, not this add-nanites-and-get-groped nonsense.
In a nod to the remaining souls that had to perform their duties whether LoveDay was in session or not, nanite filters were available for qualifying citizens. It wouldn't do to have enforcement officers making out at a crime scene. Certain jobs had to get done. If you didn't meet the threshold for critical duties or the AI needed more bodies making babies, you were out of luck.
If excluded, you could use a mask. It was crudely fabbed with sockets for stubby cylinders jutting out at right angles. Ross wasn't sure about all the technical details, but it allowed a temporary reprogramming of the nanite cloud in your local space. The dormant nanites would form a kind of shield on the filter membrane preventing active ones from getting in.
The effect lasted as long as an override signal kept pinging into the mask, fed by a small power cell embedded inside. Once the power was gone, the barrier would dissolve and the active machines would flood his lungs, burrowing into his bloodstream. It could be worse, he supposed.
The early aughties were filled with horror stories about abused technology. Rogue pharmacore sabotage, neutralizing medicines from competitors, often inside the very bodies of the patients that needed help. Millions died from such conflicts. Civilization was brought back from the brink by an accord drafted by an AI, with input from the remaining sovereigns.
Relinquishing self-governance on the national scale was a bitter pill to swallow, but the AI was a kind if benevolent dictator. It resulted in some policies that didn't make sense in human terms but were deemed necessary by the unblinking eye of the machine intelligence shepherding its human charges.
We were too unreliable and moody to exceed our baser desires. The human race needed help, especially to counteract the trend of declining birthrates and basic intimacy. Ross firmly believed that the incursion of technology was partially to blame for the gradual isolation of people.
It was one of the reasons that he still traveled to go to work. Most would just goggle-in and be done with it, having walked mere steps from their beds to their office. Nothing beat a good walk in the morning sun, he thought. Ross wouldn't sequester himself in his apartment, meeting with friends in virtual spaces.
"That's the life for a pet, not a free person!", Ross exclaimed, stepping over a half-naked couple in the middle of the sidewalk. The nudity didn't bother him, it was the loss of reason and control. Did we really have to surrender all control for one day, just because a machine said so?
He had his doubts. It was why Ross tried not to use technology if he could help it. His kitchen was full of anachronistic devices and tools. No one cooked over open flames anymore, but Ross did. The first time he fired up his home made stove, the fire suppression system had kicked on.
It took days to get all of the FireRid pellets out of his living space. He still found one every now and then, small sphere holding compressed nanos that would break active bonds starving any raging flames. They looked like tiny pearls from an old-time necklace.
Ross was almost home, mask vibrating faintly to warn him of the exhausted power reserves. Walking briskly across the lobby, he leaned on the call button. His building was ancient, preserved by a historical society that prided itself in keeping ancient relics unchanged.
The elevator door slid open, revealing his neighbor Kate. Ross had admired her from afar, much too hesitant to let her know his true feelings. Her curly hair, ringlets descending from the temples. It was his weakness, those deep sapphire eyes and graceful cheekbones.
Ross stared aghast as Kate pulled her partner in view, glassy eyes infused with nanite love. He was muscular and handsome, the exact opposite of himself. They were barely clothed, torn sleeves and askew shirt collars revealing more than Ross wanted to see.
Dejected, he left the groping couple walking to the stairwell exit. Only ten stories, plenty of exercise to work out the feelings he had. Had it all just come down to this? He cursed himself, wishing he had offered her cooking lessons or helped her move in.
But he hadn't.
It didn't matter much, did it, on LoveDay. If he had ripped off his mask and somehow banished the interloper to some hidden dimension, that could have been him in that elevator. Was that what he really wanted? Simulated attraction, mechanical groping and coupling. He might as well be the cranked meat grinder in his kitchen.
Ridiculous.
Ross shoved open the door to his apartment, allowing the door to seal. The air inside was actively filtered, since he had an exclusion permit. Ross removed his mask, putting it on the small table in the foyer.
It vibrated faintly, then went dead.
Just like he felt inside.
@talltim you were flagged by a worthless gang of trolls, so, I gave you an upvote to counteract it! Enjoy!!
Thanks, its funny how people disagree with me and immediately go to my last post, which was MONTHS ago to downvote it, lol.
I guess Cashies and other trolls aren't too bright ;)
I thought about making a separate post for this, but you know what -- this is just as good. The final denouement of my Steemit adventure.
After watching everyone game the platform hard, like grifters shaking a cup in the subway, watching as people posted content from elsewhere and called it their own, watching as bots took over and paid campaigns and other shennanigans -- like the entire steemit blockchain seizing up like a suburban dad shoveling too much snow from his driveway -- the final straw happened.
The big announcement that the Steemit team was going to be reduced by 70%, and no doubt applauded and hailed as the "best thing for Steemit" ever by the promoting-cheerleader squad, I knew in my heart that this platform is fucked.
It may languish in some form here and there, but ultimately staked platforms are only as good as the tech behind it, and this pile of gated tokens (THREE of them, really? what the fuck people. Probably more with the other changes) just tells me what I was denying all along -- that its designed to slow down real market forces.
The only reason it takes forever and a day to convert the Steem token (and its many bastard step-children) is that the very real fear people will do a "run on the bank" and push the unit price towards zero. And you know what? Maybe that is exactly what its worth.
I don't need it to trade down into irrelevance to be "right". I just know that when nearly the entire team gets sacked there's a little more wrong than just the need to "pivot" to something else.
For those of you staying, good luck, but luck doesn't make a market - buyers and sellers do. And I'm dumping all of mine, because I don't see the utility in this bot-farmed-pirating-text-haven anymore.
Have a good one.
If any of you want to follow to another oasis, I recommend checking me out on Mastodon, the non-corporate version of Twitter -- https://bitcoinhackers.org/web/accounts/622 - That's my profile with my posts.
Not so much stories, but I may be persuaded to post some here and there if such demand exists.
"The future is here, just unevenly distributed." - William Gibson
Hmm .. quite a creative narrative and story. congratulations dear friend. I loved!
Thank you, I appreciate it.
Perhaps you'd like this one as well - Deadlock
Its a lovers spat between Death and Life. Better resolution, though :)
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STOPThat is a very dark picture of a future. Though not impossible.
Did you read "LoveStar" from the Icelandic author Andri Snær Magnason? Your story reminds me of this work but also I can relate it to Aldous Huxley's brave new world. A bit of Startrek I can also see because the term nanites I know from there. Well, that only shows that I am full of influences by what I so far read and saw. I hope you don't mind me mentioning that. I find Magnason, Huxley and Startrek brilliant!
It makes me sad though. And that is, of course, the best compliment a writer can get. It also makes me upset. I don't want that world.
Why did you stop blogging?
Your first commentator @reinhard-schmid made me coming here. He mentioned you in one of his comments to me. We became friends as he was one of the first people I got in close touch with.
Hope, you are well.
A stranger from Germany
:)
I'll have a more elaborate answer later as I've been out with friends and quite tired :)
But thank you for your comment and insight. I appreciate it, very much.
That was very kind of you to let me know that you take your time. I appreciated it.
So here we are, amidst the remnants of another blogger who bit the dust.
Tiddly-pom.
I felt his story was describing the present, to be honest. I can see it all coming to pass. I was reminded of the Matrix and the Machine World. You know, I think the Matrix was one of the most sophisticated films to have come out of Hollywood -thanks to the brothers-now-sisters directors who seem to be highly hermetically-gnostically inspired. That coming from an Arthouse buff.
I too won't be around here for much longer, since quality writing like this is doomed to go insufficiently noticed. Even if it's not about needing to earn a living, a writer must have a steady amount of subscribers. It is how it works even for a journalist. Otherwise the writer will run out of real steam. (They usually don't want to be here for any other reason, like casual friends or recipes or lists of government conspiracies.)
But before you know it you get dragged in by irritations, because that is the name of the game. (As Tim has popped back in to tell you himself).
I can appreciate your more patient promise to yourself to learn as much as you can - for this too one must do while one is here, like it or not - but the cost can be quite high, with the picture of social side of man sometimes glum and often artificial while nobody much sees in which subtle ways this is so.
Here till 31 May, hope to read more from (either of) you soon.
I missed this somehow, because Steemit really isn't good at notifying you of replies unless you're specifically searching for them.
Further writings would be forthcoming if I believed in this platform - but I do not.
That could change, but I'm not holding my breath.
Love the creativity in your stories and the surreal, slightly irritating (I mean that as a compliment) mood.
Thank you my creative friend.
Appreciate the comment.
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Your post is great. :)
Thanks!
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STOPgive me an email or just send me a invite for discord thanks buddy
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Thanks steemitboard, my dream of doing nothing for 6 months and have bots follow me until I mysteriously got to "minnow" status has been fulfilled.
I suppose in the spirit of Steemit I should up-vote myself, get a bid-bot, and generally try to rip off the reward pool like every other grifter around here.
Ridiculous.
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STOPDo not miss the last post from @steemitboard:
SteemitBoard and the Veterans on Steemit - The First Community Badge.
Your level lowered and you are now a Red Fish!
Yep, I'm outta here. This place is a complete cesspool of botting and upvote chicanery. Turns out to get quality content you have to have more safeguards in place than "everyone grab the money".
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