Smartystan

Learned machines dotted the landscape. They walked and crawled with a ferocity and intent that could only be found in non-humans. There seemed to be a level of excitement that Belinda always enjoyed. She looked at them with a sense of not just wonder but rapacity. Greedily, she wanted them to work and work smart.

“You can stop it, now,” she said. The other engineers shut down the program and the machines went as limp as willow leaves.

“We’ve got to start them up and maintain that same energy next time,” Belinda said to her lead engineer Geert Aarden. “Roger that, ma’am.”

She walked back to her office and commanded her smart device to read back emails to her. With the amount that she had already read, she knew that there still had to be work done. But she wanted to relax. Music became her sole choice of understanding herself. After the last message, she turned to her favorite streaming service and just listened to hot jazz. She let the sounds waft over her and enliven her at the same time. She leaned back in her chair and just relaxed. Until….

“Ma’am! We have a problem with the synth and learned machines!”

Belinda rocketed out of her chair. She quickly marched down to where the area of testing started.

“I thought we shut all of this down! What’s the problem?”

“The synth and the learned machines are fighting.”

“Who can I blame for this?”

Aarden straightened. “I take full responsibility.”

“Stop it, you weren’t anywhere near the synths. How’d they get in there?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. There may have been a glitch in the synth’s software.”

The first thing that Belinda did was call Dr. Keija Frampton.

“Hey, K. Um, one of your synths is fighting my learned machines.”

“That’s okay.”

“What?!”

“They’ll tucker themselves out, eventually.”

“You’ve had your share of incidents before. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Synths can be very aggressive and territorial. Just wait a while and they’ll stop.”

Belinda looked from the glass enclosure that surrounded her company’s complex. The synths glided by and started punching the learned machines in the face. All the while, the machines showed resilience and even copied data from the battering they received.

“Okay, they seem to be calming down a bit,” Belinda observed.

“See?”

“Why are they so agitated?”

“It’s something written into their software. I wanted them to be part servant part prize fighter.”

“I think you’ve certainly achieved the latter,” Belinda acknowledged.

“Hey, I’ll pay for whatever is damaged, but your machines are really no push-overs either.”

“You’re right about that. Hey, this merger is going to go well despite what I just witnessed.”

“That’s right.”

“When two multi-billion-dollar corporations merge, the women are involved, and they’re friends, that’s what we get, huh?”

“If the boys had done it, we’d see them displaying the outcomes to ‘oohs!’ and ‘ahhs!’”

They laughed. “You’ve got to swing by the facility again and see your synths. Whatever code that they have is really, this episode notwithstanding, having a positive effect on the machines. If we can just elevate past the kinks, we’ll be good money,” Belinda replied.

“What is it about the learned machines, though? They’re actually stronger than the synths.”

“Yes. I’ve seen many lights diminish with the strikes against the machines. If we can record the amount of strikes and blows that these machines have sustained, we can also count on the number of hits the synths have taken,” Belinda reasoned.

“I think that’s a good start,” Dr. Frampton responded.

“Once we link back up, I’ll give you all of the data.”

“Why not now?”

“Why not––K, these machines took a beating from your synths. They’re not going to be any different from when you get here next and what has happened now.”

“No, I’m saying, relay the information to my processor and allow it to break down all of the data.”

“Duh! I should have thought of that. Now I know what you’re saying. If we’re able to discover what brought on the fights, we’d be in a much better place. The amount of damage is minimal. Here, I’ll show you.” She tapped the screen and sent the information to Dr. Frampton.

“That’s about right. The aggressors are the female styled synths. They fight anyone and everyone for their space and their honor.”

“Honor?”

“Yes, even synths have a code. I don’t say it’s a ‘moral’ code as only humans can have a method of ethics, but they certainly have a way of dealing with their fellow synths and now I imagine their learned machine counterparts.”

Belinda soaked all of this into her consciousness. “Once we meet up again online or face to face, we’re going to have to show Covey and Vestin the advances we’ve made. They’re going to be floored by the level of impediments, breakdowns, reimaginings, reconstructions, and possibilities that we’ve experienced.”

“Yes, we’ll really wow them.”

“I’m serious.”

“I am, too. They’re not going to be ready to see all of the accomplishments we’ve made. They’re going to be anticipating our failure and say, ‘Well, at least we’ve got Delaseer,’” Dr. Frampton said in a sing-songy voice.

Belinda continued to look down at her phone and video chat with her business partner and friend.

“Do you remember in college when we had that science fair and the stage caught fire?” Belinda asked.

“Of course. How could I forget it? One of the early synths put out the flames.”

They laughed. “I don’t know what it is but we can’t keep away from trouble.”

“But look what we did. We challenged the status quo and became two women billionaires with the strength and the know-how to go up against our male competitors and still be friends with our fellow Delaseer c-suite occupiers.”

“That’s a beautiful thing.”

“Yes it is. It makes sense, which makes dollars which makes a for profit 501 (c) (3) possible.”

“Let that be our legacy,” Belinda replied.