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Submitted for the October 2023 prompt: Machine in the Ghost


Molly was dead: to begin with. So what is she doing in my bedroom? thought Ben.

 

Ben Ezer was not a man to spend much time in his bedroom, be it for sleep or any other matter. He viewed sleep as he did food and drink: unfortunate and barbarous necessities, distractions from the higher purposes of software programming and wealth accumulation. Work-life balance? Rest and recreation? Humbug, to his mind.

 

Now, Molly was dead: that much was certain. Ben had given everyone at BenMol two hours off in memoriam, and he had been to her funeral — the first part, at least. And yet there she was, at the foot of his bed, wailing and moaning and shaking a chain, in the dreary manner of a dinner theatre performer. Obviously not a ghost. Actress? Twin? Android? He hurled a pen at it and saw it fly straight through. "Bah," he said. "Hologrammatic humbug."

 

"Benjamin Ezer," said Molly the hologram (Hidden directional speakers, Ben thought). "I have come with a warning. Though I have passed on, my AI has been observing your actions and your finances. Beware, Ben Ezer! Beware!"

 

"Molly Jacobs," said Ben with a scowl. "An excellent designer, but you always had a regrettable tendency towards humbug, and expensive humbug at that. Why this foolish post-mortem prestidigitation? I always took you as a woman more for aperitifs than the after-life."

 

"I have come to show you your life, Ben. What was, what is, and what is yet to come." And with that, the bedroom was filled with a holographic image; the sights and sounds of happy people in a cozy San Francisco bar. Ben saw himself from twenty years ago, mingling with the crowd and greeting all with good cheer.

 

"Why, it's BenMol's launch party!" said Ben in astonishment. "There's you, and me, and good old Prashant! And there are our users; the first BenMol Meet, in person! Everyone coding, building, and creating!"

 

"Not 'expensive humbug'?" asked Molly, teasing with a playful smile.

 

Ben scowled, remembering himself. "We were in growth mode," he said. "For every penny we spent, we reaped a dollar later."

 

Molly waved a hand, and the scene changed again. The party was gone, replaced by two large graphs. The one on the left was jagged, but the overall trend was strongly positive, while the one on the right drooped sadly.

 

"Do you know these charts, Ben?" asked Molly.

 

Ben smiled. "Why, the one on the left I know and love, for that's the stock price, soaring up. But what's on the right, falling so far?"

 

"Employee and user sentiment," said Molly grimly. She waved her hand, and the BenMol internal messaging system appeared, with texts that scrolled up into the ceiling..

 

No BenMol Meet this year #CostCutting :(

 

Falling behind on tasks could use a break...

 

Making $$$, but miss Prashant and the old days

 

So many ads. Hard to find my friends :(

 

"Bah," said Ben. "Sentiment? Breaks? Flim-flam and humbug. The market will prove it," he said, but with a tinge of doubt.

 

Molly waved her hand again, and the room went completely black. Ben felt a chill. Must be the air conditioning, he thought, uncertainly.

 

"So, that's it?" he said. "No more of your morality play?"

 

There was no reply.

 

"Hello?"

 

A bell tolled, and white letters appeared in mid-air:

 

BenMol Meet 2063: (Projection)

 

The bell tolled again, and the letters changed to read

 

Benjamin Ezer Memorial

 

The bedroom suddenly turned bright, and Ben squinted in response. The hologram was now a sterile white plaza filled with people wearing hoodies. The AI Molly was nowhere to be seen.

 

"Hah," said Ben. "I may be gone, but I built something to last. Look at all the people."

 

"Look closer," said the disembodied voice of Molly, but flattened and without emotion.

 

Ben did. He saw the figures move about, but something was wrong. Their movements were jerky, their limbs disproportionate, and they seemed not to be talking to each other. Then they turned as one to face him, but no, face was not the right word. For as they lowered their hoods, Ben looked from one head to the other. He saw a golden M, a ruddy N, a bitten apple and a gaudy G. No faces, only empty corporate logos where a smile or laugh should be.

 

"Bots, Ben," said the voice of Molly with a hollow laugh. "Buying and selling from each other forever. The perfect customers and the perfect conclusion to the company you built."

 

Ben screamed and fainted dead away.

 

* * *

 

Ben woke up the next morning and leapt out of bed. Had it all been a dream? No, for now, he could see the projector and the speakers. Molly's presentation had done its work in a single night — there was still time to change.

 

Ben typed out a post to all_employees and all_users @ BenMol.

 

BenMol Meets are back in person world-wide. Bring your fun, your creativity, and your authentic self! No expense spared!

 

He paused, then smiled and hit send. Prashant messaged him: Love the new direction! But have you been hacked? :) The market reaction was not far behind, and the stock crashed in the next few minutes. By the end of the day, Ben had lost ninety percent of his net worth, but he considered himself the happiest man in all of Silicon Valley.

Copyright 2023 - SFS Publishing LLC

A Corporate Carol

Could he face the future?

Philip Apps

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