Katie Williams: The Happiness Machine

The Borough Press

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain as Tell the Machine Goodnight by HarperCollins Publishers 2018

Copyright © Katie Williams 2018

Cover design by Ellie Game © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019

Cover photograph © Valentino Sani / Trevillion Images

Katie Williams asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008265069

Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008265052

Version: 2019-01-15

‘A master class in not losing sight of the human element . . . the kind of story that – in the subtlest of ways – can instruct us, and nourish us, and make us want to live and love a little better’

Matt Haig, New York Times Book Review

‘Between seasons of Black Mirror , look to Katie Williams’ debut novel’

Refinery29

‘Sharp and moving’

Publishers Weekly

‘Philosophical, funny, cleverly structured, unpredictable . . . the world-building is creative and completely convincing’

Gabrielle Zevin

‘My prescription for happiness is: “Sit still, read a book that can’t be classified by genre, and tell everyone.” I’m telling you, Katie Williams delivers. Part science fiction, part love story, part feminist manifesto. I never knew what was going to happen and, when I found out, I was always delighted’

Helen Ellis, New York Times

bestselling author of American Housewife

‘I loved [it] so much that I read it twice . . . It is sci-fi in its most perfect expression — no robots, no explosions, no car chases. Reading it is like having a lucid dream of six years from next week, filled with people you don’t know, but will’

NPR

‘How much control do we have over our own happiness – and would we be better off if we had the ability to nudge it just a little more? A captivating, thought-provoking and utterly charming novel about the elusive nature of happiness and the limits of both technology and our own self-knowledge’

Carolyn Parkhurst, author of Harmony and The Dogs of Babel

‘Filled with extraordinary writing, wish-they-existed characters, and unexpected narrative turns . . . will delight your mind and heart’

Courtney Maum, author of Touch and I am Having So Much Fun Here Without You

For Uly and Fia

Contents

Cover

Title Page THE HAPPINESS MACHINE KATIE WILLIAMS First published in hardback as Tell the Machine Goodnight

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

1. THE HAPPINESS MACHINE

2. MEANS, MOTIVE, OPPORTUNITY

3. BROTHERLY LOVE

4. SUCH A NICE AND POLITE YOUNG MAN

5. MIDAS

6. ORIGIN STORY

7. SCREAMER

8. BODY PARTS

9. THE FURNITURE IS FAMILIAR

10. TELL THE MACHINE GOODNIGHT

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Katie Williams

About the Publisher

The machine said the man should eat tangerines. It listed two other recommendations as well, so three in total. A modest number, Pearl assured the man as she read out the list that had appeared on the screen before her: one, he should eat tangerines on a regular basis; two, he should work at a desk that received morning light; three, he should amputate the uppermost section of his right index finger.

The man—in his early thirties, by Pearl’s guess, and pinkish around the eyes and nose in the way of white rabbits or rats—lifted his right hand before his face with wonder. Up came his left, too, and he used its palm to press experimentally on the top of his right index finger, the finger in question. Is he going to cry? Pearl wondered. Sometimes people cried when they heard their recommendations. The conference room they’d put her in had glass walls, open to the workpods on the other side. There was a switch on the wall to fog the glass, though; Pearl could flick it if the man started to cry.

“I know that last one seems a bit out of left field,” she said.

“Right field, you mean,” the man—Pearl glanced at her list for his name, one Melvin Waxler—joked, his lips drawing up to reveal overlong front teeth. Rabbitier still. “Get it?” He waved his hand. “Right hand. Right field.”

Pearl smiled obligingly, but Mr. Waxler had eyes only for his finger. He pressed its tip once more.

“A modest recommendation,” Pearl said, “compared to some others I’ve seen.”

“Oh sure, I know that,” Waxler said. “My downstairs neighbor sat for your machine once. It told him to cease all contact with his brother.” He pressed on the finger again. “He and his brother didn’t argue or anything. Had a good relationship actually, or so my neighbor said. Supportive. Brotherly.” Pressed it. “But he did it. Cut the guy off. Stopped talking to him, full stop.” Pressed it. “And it worked. He says he’s happier now. Says he didn’t have a clue his brother was making him un happy. His twin brother. Identical even. If I’m remembering.” Clenched the hand into a fist. “But it turned out he was. Unhappy, that is. And the machine knew it, too.”