Singularity

I look at my my old pair of boots sitting in its little corner. Oh what a wonderful pair of boots, even though I could never tell what color it was.

It’s beige in color.

Yeah, whatever. I used to be blue-yellow color blind, so I just assumed it was some muddy mix of a yellowish-orangey light tan color.

Used to be color blind?

You know what I mean. Anyway, back to my boots. I used to loathe them when I was younger, since I felt like I lost my ability to walk properly with them on, not to mention blisters as well. The fact that I was required to wear them for military-related activities made me hate them even more. That feeling of having stiff material wrapped around my feet is not one I relate to comfort.

But  when I grew older I got used to them and wore them around whenever it was cold out. And now, in the state that I am in, I never thought that I would actually miss the way the boots hugged my feet, holding them tight and never letting go. I have only begun to realize the reassurance they provided, doing their job to protect my feet.

So does he hate the boots or does he like them? Hmph. Humans. So full of contradictions.

If only I could wear my boots again.

Just so you can hate them again?

Yeah.

You and I

She was sitting across from me, talking on the phone. She leaned back and giggled uncontrollably. I like it when she does that. Thank you, whoever it is on the other end. Oh, how I love her laugh. Nothing but music to my ears.

“Think about the places we have seen together,”

I hear the familiar tune playing. Instinctively I brace myself.

“Back when it was just you and I.” I sing along with the song in my head, and breathed a gentle sigh.

Companion

Author's note: From now on I have decided to call my fiction series "Oneiric Cognition". It comes with the fancy picture (credits to Siangling) and, hopefully, a new entry every month.

Why do you still keep Jake anyway? It’s not like you need Artificial Intelligence to assist you when you already have Enhanced Cognition.

I pondered the question that my other half fired at me. Yes, it is a little redundant to have a separate AI when I already have one integrated within me. Even though the integrated AI is rather basic, when combined with human intellect, it easily surpasses the limits of both human and machine. 

But we’re talking about Jake here. Sure, you can categorize him as an AI, but he’s more than that. He’s a Companion™. 

What is a Companion™, you ask? Well, let me tell you a story. I hope you like stories.

Breakfast

He was already waiting for me when I descended the hard-light elevator. He somehow always manages to be present whenever he’s needed. If I didn’t know him any better I’d be creeped out by now.

“Good morning, Gio.” he greeted.

“Morning.” I replied.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really. But it’s amazing how simulated dreams feel so real.”

“Technology that is indistinguishable from magic, you know that old saying?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yeah. Can’t believe we've gotten this far.”

“So what do you want for breakfast? Shall I warm up the food printer? Or do you just wanna pop one of those food pills?”

I stood silent for a while, pondering my options.

“No Jake, I, uh... I want to cook.”

“You want to cook?” Jake asked, surprised.

“Yes, Jake. Does the induction stove still work?”

“Yes, it does. I’ll start it up now. Do you want me to search for recipes?”

“No need. I remember my mum’s recipes just fine, thanks.”

Jake hesitated for a while. "Why?" He asked finally.

"I just want to feel human, Jake. To savour the taste of the Old Centuries...and prepare a surprise for her."

He fell silent and left me alone to my cooking.

Sweet Dreams

“You look absolutely dashing, sir.”

“My charming French acquaintance brings me nothing but the sharpest suits, dear Jake. And please, stop calling me sir. You’re my wingman, not my servant.” I quipped. “You look handsome yourself.” I said with a grin.

“I feel all wrapped up and uncomfortable.” replied Jake.

“Oh you’re just not used to wearing suits. You’ll get the hang of it. So much classier than jeans and a tee.” I glanced at my watch. 9.30 p.m. “We’d best be off now. Don’t wanna be late!”

“Wait,” said Jake, “Who is it this time?”

“Number 10. She’s a tough one to catch!”