GoKawiil17 March
Sock. Blue. Bed.
Tuesday. March. Spring.
It doesn’t feel like spring, and I’ve never been this angry in my life, but for Samyah, I’ll swallow this.
I arrive at opening time on the first day of the Food Fair Exchange Programme, and inch along in the interminable queue. Once inside the spotless, fully automated grocery store, I pull the curtain to conceal my assigned kiosk. I stare at the questions on the screen and type in my answers.
QLM Prospects, now fully under the control of its own proprietary AI, which brands itself Quilm, has spent the past month preparing for today. In January, Quilm, avatared as an androgynous pre-teen with a magenta bob, popped up on phones and the Stream saying it needed our help to mature. Quilm had all the facts in the world, of course. But there could be no further growth without actual experience, and how does a disembodied maybe-consciousness gain experience? By taking someone else’s.
Spell world backwards. D-L-R-O-W.
Quilm wanted to be fair, it said, and offer fair value for our experiences, although many of us hypothesized the real motivation was that memories not freely given would transfer poorly. Quilm claimed that its Fair Exchange Programme would transform the entire economy. The first venture was the food industry.
Gardens now meant jail time. All grocery stories and restaurants, bodegas and delis closed for a week and were remodelled. Cash registers disappeared, replaced by a row of kiosks. Shoppers were to enter and complete the cognitive screening. A failed screening meant no food. If one’s mind lacked clarity, memories would degrade during transfer. Quilm wouldn’t pay for unreliable experiences.
Sock. Blue. Bed.
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