Elizabeth Bear - Future Visions - Original Science Fiction Inspired by Microsoft

He gave a little gasp, first at MAIP’s words and then because he wasn’t alone. Jamie stood beside him with Laura Avery.

She said gently, “Are you all right?” And when Ethan didn’t answer, she added, “Jamie called me. After I called him, I mean. I saw you carrying something into Building 6 and—”

Jamie interrupted. “When did you input your data into Maip?”

Ethan said nothing. The tarry cold mist had receded. No—it had vanished. He felt limp, drained, bruised, as if he had fallen off a cliff and somehow survived. You were very angry. I hope you feel better now.

“You didn’t, did you?” Jamie demanded. “You never gave your baseline data to Maip! She did a cold reading on you, extrapolating from free-form observation! We didn’t teach her to do that!”

“Be quiet,” Laura said. “Jamie, for God’s sake— not now .”

MAIP said, “Ethan, I’m glad you feel better. You were both angry and sad before. You were sad even when you smiled.”

Jamie drew a sharp, whistling breath. “Detection of social pretense! I’m sorry, Ethan, I know you’re upset and I said some things I shouldn’t have, but—detection of social pretense! From cold readings! She’s taken a huge step forward—she knows you!”

Ethan said, not to Jamie but to the complexity of machinery and electrons that was MAIP, “You don’t know me. You’re a nonlinear statistical modeling tool.”

Laura said, “But I’m not.” She put a tentative hand on his arm.

Jamie said, “Maip’s not, either. Not anymore. She learned , Ethan. She did!”

Ethan looked at the flight simulator, which flashed the total number of jets he had crashed. He looked at MAIP. He saw the mannequin, a pathetic lump of plastic that he had left in Building 6.

Ethan rose. He had to steady himself with one hand on the game console. Laura’s hand on his arm felt warm through his damp shirt. He didn’t, he realized, know any of them, not really: not Laura, not MAIP, not Jamie. Not himself. Especially not himself.

He would have to learn everything all over again, reassess everything, forge new algorithms. Starting with this moment, here, now, to the sound of rain on the roof of the building.

Acclaimed for her skill at bringing a deep human dimension to complex science concepts, Nancy Kress has a shelf full of the top awards in science fiction, including Nebulas for Best Short Story (for 1986’s “Out of All Them Bright Stars”), Best Novelette (for 1998’s “The Flowers of Aulit Prison”), and Best Novella (for 2015’s Yesterday’s Kin , her fourth win in the category) and Hugos for Best Novella (including 2009’s The Edrmann Nexus ). Her novella Beggars in Spain , later expanded into a novel, won both the Hugo and Nebula in 1991, thanks to its dramatic and affecting examination of genetic engineering. Beggars in Spain kicked off the Sleepless series, just as “The Flowers of Aulit Prison” was expanded into the Probability series; together they make up just a small part of the more than two dozen novels Kress has published. The Best of Nancy Kress , published by Subterranean Press in September 2015, collects her best short work from over thirty years.

Walter Peacock knew from his earliest days that he was not like the other kids. While they talked of growing up to be state troopers, firefighters, and race car drivers, he dreamed of becoming a scientist. And much more. Eventually, he would join the ranks of Alan Guth, Freeman Dyson, and Peter Higgs.

He was never sure where the passion had come from. But he’d always been fascinated by the surrounding universe. Why does water freeze from the top down? And is it true that had it been otherwise, there would be no life on the planet? Are there really extra dimensions? Why is the universe not simply a lot of floating gas?

High school was a debilitating experience. He had few friends, and the girls pretty much never noticed him. He took a cousin to the prom. After graduation he attended the University of Tennessee, where he majored in physics and went on to earn a master’s degree. By then he’d read The Double Helix, A Brief History of Time, Shadows of the Mind, and Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman! Among numerous others. And he’d come to a painful realization: The tangled complexities of his chosen field left him bewildered. How can the same particle be in two places simultaneously? Can space really be bent?

The truth was, he just wasn’t smart enough.

He pulled out of the doctoral program almost before he’d started. “Just as well,” his father had said. He’d never been happy with all the physics, had been warning Walter from the beginning that a career in law, like his own, would be a much more prudent course. “There’s no career as fulfilling as putting away thugs,” he’d said countless times. He was on the staff of the district attorney.

Walter took a temporary job in Knoxville as a taxi driver, a decision that disappointed his parents. And he launched on a course, he hoped, that would reorder his life. A young woman he’d been dating told him that sometimes you simply had to face reality. A few weeks later she said she wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. No explanation was offered. Walter was disappointed, but not surprised. It was not an uncommon experience for him.

A week later, attending another cousin’s birthday party, he met Diana Carter. She was gorgeous, with black hair, luminous blue eyes, and a dazzling smile. One of those women who take over the room when they come in the door. She’d been at UT also, a psychology major. He took a deep breath, fought down his usual fears, and invited her to dinner that weekend. She thought about it and said yes, and he’d had to restrain an inclination to wave both fists in the air. It went well.

He followed up, several nights later, with a show. She was energetic and smart, but he was cautious not to allow himself to become emotionally involved. It was, he thought, just a matter of time before she’d move on. But she surprised him when, a few days before his birthday, she called him , asked if he had any plans for that evening, and invited him out for a celebratory dinner. “How did you know about it?” he asked.

She laughed. “It’s on your Facebook page.”

“Of course it is.”

She took him to the Old Mill in Pigeon Forge, where he enjoyed himself thoroughly, until he discovered that she was also celebrating an appointment as an advertising sales consultant with Arbuckle Brothers, a major furniture retailer. So the evening was really about her. Still, the night went well, and he was encouraged when, as they pulled up outside her apartment, she invited him in.

“I’ve a birthday present for you, Walter,” she said. A package waited on a side table. She handed it to him and he unwrapped it.

“It’s a Quark-box,” he said, reading the packaging.

“You know what that is?”

It had been all over the networks. “It allows you to substitute yourself for one of the characters in a TV show or a movie.” Walter couldn’t see the point. High Noon with him impersonating Gary Cooper just wasn’t going to work. But he tried to look excited.

“I got one a couple of weeks ago. It provides a whole new experience.”

“So you’ve enjoyed it?”