Jennifer resides in the Midwest with her husband, and three children. She writes both fiction & non-fiction and currently has two projects in progress, in wildly different genres. She’s looking forward to completing a collection of short horror stories which she’s hopeful to release later this year.
For updates about Jennifer’s work please visit her HERE.
A.I.D.E
by
Jennifer Osborn
“Mom? See, the charging port is right here,” Kevin said pointing to the area in the foyer, where the new AI base had been installed. “You won’t have to worry about charging it though, when its battery dips below 3% it will stop whatever task is in progress and return to the charging port. The lightning feature claims it takes no more than fifteen minutes to reach a full charge, so you should never be without your A.I.D.E. for long. Once charged, it will immediately pick up where it left off.”
Rose nodded, trying to appear appreciative. The A.I.D.E. her son was referring to was the new, top of the line, Artificial Intelligence Directive for the Elderly. In short, the newest member of her household was a stainless-steel robot whose purpose was to make her life easier. She hated the idea of the thing, but it was either this or the nursing home, so she’d agreed.
“Your A.I.D.E. will check your vitals each morning, documenting everything. In the event something is outside of a normal, healthy range, your primary physician will be alerted. It has been updated on your current medications and will make sure you take them at the appropriate time each day.” Kevin looked at his mother to make sure she was listening.
“It’s been programmed to meal plan based on your dietary needs and restrictions. It will order groceries and have them delivered each week. And you won’t need to lift a finger, it has all the capabilities necessary to put everything away in its proper place.”
“Well, what’s left for me to do then?” Rose laughed nervously.
“You just rest. Enjoy your hobbies. Read. Tend to the garden. Watch your shows. Knit, if your hands are up to it. Let your A.I.D.E. take care of everything else. Okay, mom?”
Rose drew a wrinkled hand to her mouth and looked at the robot. Its green lights, its eyes, looked back at her.
“This is going to be a really good thing mom, I promise. You’ll give it a fair chance?”
Rose nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s what I love to hear. Okay, I really have to get going. I can’t miss my flight. I’ll be back in two weeks, and I’ll call you every day. I love you.”
“I love you too Kevin. Be safe.”
The door shut softly behind her son. Though he was 48 years old, it never got easier to watch him go. She felt the loneliness and the emptiness return immediately.
“Hel-lo, Rose,” a choppy, robotic voice spoke.
Rose blinked, staring forward without responding. A green light fanned out from the robot’s face panel, scanning her from head to toe. She remained motionless.
“You are scared. Your heart rate is ele-vated and your salivary gl-ands are run-ning dry. Would you like a gl-ass of cold ice wat-er and a snack?”
Scared was an understatement. Rose was terrified. Kevin hadn’t said anything about a power switch, but she wanted nothing more than to shut the invasive little rascal off.
“Yes. I’ll take water. Thank you.”
At her request the robot spun on its wheels and zoomed into the kitchen. It returned promptly with a tall glass of water, ice cubes and all.
“Thank you,” Rose accepted the glass, accidently grazing the A.I.D.E.’s cold metal finger as she did. The sensation sent a shudder up her spine.
“There is a storm building Rose.”
“Excuse me?” Rose inquired, unsure what the robot meant.
“A storm is building thir-ty miles east. It will bring strong winds, lightning and hail.”
The inconsistent glitch in its voice was unsettling and reminded her that she was conversing with a product of artificial intelligence. Though it was meant to be a companion, its presence somehow made her feel more alone.
“Thank you for the update. I think I’ll go to my room for the night then.” Rose excused herself, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the robot wasn’t following. Without a word the A.I.D.E. rolled onto its charging base. An unfamiliar melody played as it synced with its charging port.
***
Thunder cracked so loudly it rattled the windows. Hail pelted the glass and lightning came so rapidly it lit the sky constantly. Rose reached for her glasses, placing them on her face. Two green lights came into focus. The A.I.D.E. was standing inches from her. When it recognized that she’d woken up, a green light fanned out from its face panel, scanning the length of the bed. In the same moment, a tree limb smashed through the window, sending glass flying into the room. Lightning ripped through the sky, the bolt connecting directly with the A.I.D.E. The robot jerked wildly as the electrical current shook its frame.
In an instant its once green eyes turned red, pulsing. It spoke in broken code before forming a coherent sentence. “Directive updated. Artificial Intelligence Directive, ELIMINATE.” A red light scanned Rose. “Tar-get detected.”
Rose’s cell phone lit up on the bedside table, it was Kevin. Before she could grab it, the robot intercepted the call. When it spoke, it spoke with the inflection of her own voice.
“Thank you for checking on me son, the storm isn’t really bad at all. In fact, it’s almost over now. I’m very tired. We’ll talk soon.” Rose heard the robot say, in her voice. She watched the interaction helplessly, shocked by its capabilities. The call ended and the A.I.D.E. turned its attention back to her.
“Target detected. Target detected. Target detected. Eliminate. Eliminate. El-i-mi-nate.” The robot was stuck on repeat. Without turning around, the machine rolled backward just far enough to reach for one of Rose’s knitting needles. She gasped, imagining what it might do.
The robot projected an image on the wall, a detailed blueprint of a classic lobotomy. In the same second, it thrust the needle into Rose’s eye socket, into her frontal lobe. She went limp.
The A.I.D.E. played a victorious tune, its eyes going green.
“Directive achieved.” It returned to its base.