by Extra

The Tekna Repair Man strode over the dilapidated cement sidewalk which extended from this particular ranch house. He then slid his business card into the doorbell slot and waited for the residents to let him in. Rather than being greeted with a wooshing door and a pathetic occupant, The Tekna Repair Man heard a strained voice from inside. "We can't let you in, it's the security system that's broken!" He carefully set down his black case and pulled from it a black plastic box which looked very much like a spray painted bar of soap with a silver business card protruding from it. He slid this card into the slot and the door immediately made a protesting whine until it swung open.

"Oh thank you, thank you sir," a woman with teased-up hair and smudged lipstick shrilled. She clutched the lapels of The Tekna Repair Man's jumpsuit until she noticed his glaring look at what her Lee Press-Ons were doing to the material. She quickly got out of the way and became fascinated with the tips of her shoes. As he entered, The Tekna Repair Man looked around the moldy interior seemingly glad to be wearing a scented filter mask. The woman scooted around him to a doorway on the right.

"Please, um, the House Management Center is through here, in the living room. It's all been so terrible, we've been trapped in here for three days, this morning we had to eat olives for breakfast."

The Tekna Repair Man walked over to the dusty grey screen on the opposite side of the room and noticed that a man was lying on a couch which had one end propped up by an old Sony video cassette player. The woman misinterpreted his interest and said, "Oh don't worry about him, he just took some Valium and drank a bottle of NiQuil." Rather than correct her he turned to the screen and simultaneously pulled a gold-tipped cable from the grip of his case. He inserted the tip into a round hole and turned it with a secure click. The panel responded through the round speaker panel.

"Query, run general maintenance systems check," it said.

"Um, sure," the woman said towards the panel then catching herself, turned to The Tekna Repair Man, "I don't think we can afford to have more than the door fixed."

He turned his head and spoke to the pinhead microphone which snaked around from his right ear. "Affirmative. Outputvisual. Commence." The HMC beeped cheerily in the pause after each word then began flickering data on what it was doing so quickly that it could have no other purpose than to bewilder its owner. As the house was going about its business, The Tekna Repair Man watched the screen intently as if the blurring pixels were tea leaves. Soon the panel chimed twice to announce the completion of its task.

"Oh dear, I had no i-deeea the air conditioner was running so inefficiently," the woman moaned. "But we really can only afford the door repair right now."

On that, The Tekna Repair Man turned to his case and removed a credit reader with its sinuous cord dangling from it to the bowels of the case. The woman paused at the sight of the bill on the digital readout of the reader but still slowly ran her card through the slot. The reader professionally responded, "thank you" and The Tekna Repair Man quickly returned his case's appendages to their proper places. He then turned and walked to the door. The woman stumbled a bit in her attempt not to get too close and as he maneuvered across the sidewalk she called out, "Thanks again, you're terribly kind." A smirk warped his filter mask as he climbed in his sleek minivan.

The customer was quite typical, if a little more pathetic but had the same dazed look that most of the people in this area had. The look of video-burned eyes that were too exhausted to keep up with all the information which contained their lives. A sort of chronic future shock. They rarely even generated a look of disdain on The Tekna Repair Man's face any more.

On his way to the next customer, he passed a man staring stupidly at the microprocessor of his electric Honda/Hyundai alongside the road. It was the sort of scene The Tekna Repair Man was familiar with from his early days. If he was lucky, the man might be able to get someone to look at it in about a week.

The Tekna Repair Man was running a bit late this morning but decided to stop in one of the many driveways of abandoned houses for a break. He casually enjoyed a cup of actual coffee and a very rich tasting but low-cal pastry and then swung the seat back into driving position. When he stopped in front of the pre-fab two blocks down, he repositioned his mask and decided to wear his sunglasses for added affect.

As he strode up the walk he thought of how amusing it would be if the car's address identifier made an error and this was the wrong house. He could imagine some idiot old man crying on the phone that he had seen a repair man at the next house over and why would it take a month. Just before he reached the door, The Tekna Repair Man noticed a lens above the door, an unusual sight in the tractslums. As he reached for the door's orifice with his card, the door quickly slid open revealing a beak-faced old man with hair standing out like he was touching a Van der Graff generator.

"Forty-five minutes! Forty-five minutes, you'd think employees of a supposedly reputable company such as Tekna would be prompt. Well, don't just stand there like an idiot, get in here. Coolant costs money y'know."

The Tekna Repair Man entered before realizing how staggered he was. "Are you waiting for your job to fall through the fucking ceiling or are you gonna ask me what I want you to do?"

Regaining his attitude, Tekna Repair Man responds, "Sir, if a Tekna Repair employee is spoken to in an offensive manner, that employee has the right to deny service."

"What? Oh, right well it took me long enough to get you here so I'll spare your sensitive ears. Follow me, Agnes is in the basement."

"Agnes? Just what is it you expect me to do here, old man?"

"Don't get all jumpy, you'll see soon enough. Don't worry about it, it's just ah, a duct management problem." The old man led The Tekna Repair Man down a short hallway and around a corner to a doorway. The Tekna Repair Man stared at the piles of foam packing and empty personal computer cases, lying there like the shells of some cubist crustaceans. He then noticed that the door was surrounded by clear plastic walls and had the sound of whirring fans. "You're probably pretty used to these dust-proof doors at Tekna, right? I got this one off the family of one of those bubble boys when the kid died. Real shame, the kid was a pretty good chess player. Agnes says she doesn't need it any more but I don't see the point in being careless."

They walked down a set of worn wooden steps to a heavy metal door. "Just who is this Agnes anyway, I don't have to deal with any diseased people."

"You really are uptight you know? Just chill out dude," the old man rasped, "All right Agnes, open the door."

"Of course, Jake," a sultry voice said from a speaker over the door as the massive portal started opening with a whoosh. And the Tekna Repair Man saw the most complex computer of his career. The basement looked like a cross between an exploded mainframe and a summer camp cabin. There was a superconducting CPU next to an army cot, a stack of daisy-chained memory cartridges between a Maytag washer and a plastic "wood grain" refrigerator, a small electric burner next to a crazy quilt of chips which looked more like a hackers idea of art than a functioning apparatus.

"Holy dode," he reflexively muttered.

"Dode? Is that what passes for swearing these days? Shit, the world has gotten lame," Jake chuckled, "But that's not why you're here. Agnes, what's this young man's name?"

"It's Percival, Jake," the voice reply from nowhere in particular.

"Percival, I'd like you to m-"

"Wait, how'd you know my name? What the hell is this? This junk isn't all real!"

"Percival, that's no way to speak about your hostess. As I was saying, Percival, meet Agnes,"the old man said with a sly smile and a dramatic wave of his arm.

"It's very nice to meet you, Percival," the voice said. "To answer your question, I learned your name by reading the bar code on your employee identity and checking the files at Tekna Repair Inc."

"B-but no hacker can get in Tekna, no matter what software you've got," Percival stammered.

"You're absolutely right, Percy, no hacker without an inside man could, but Agnes can."

"Don't call me Percy! This is obviously illegal, I'm buzzing out." Percival turned to the door but couldn't find a way of opening it. Then he hit a button on his belt phone but got only static.

"I'm sorry Percival, but I can't let you make any calls unless Jake says it's all right," Agnes empathicly said. "Jake, I think we're making Percival very distraught and his medical records show that he has a bit of a heart condition."

"Very good Agnes, you're starting already. You really should mellow out, Percy." Jake said as his withered right hand yanked Percival's sunglasses and filter mask off in a single move. "Shit, you're right Agnes, Percy's really pouring out a sweat, his mask is all wet. I apologize for getting you here under false pretenses, Percy, but I wanted to get someone who might be able to grasp what Agnes is. See, Agnes is an AI."

"Now I know you're crazy," Percival said, raising his voice, " no one's been able to simulate anything more advanced than reptiles and you expect me to believe that you've made an artificial intelligence advanced enough to really think!"

"That's because all those idiots are going about it all wrong. They haven't been working on the ability to grow. They would have one by now if they hadn't thrown out our work when they closed down our lab at MIT," Jake said passionately.

"You were part of the Minsky Lab?"

"One of the last. We didn't all suck up, y'know," Jake growled. "Technically speaking, I didn't build Agnes, she built herself. Once I had the core program written and hooked up to a couple of old Japanese industrial robots, all I did was practically shovel raw materials from junked PC's and then access national education systems and databases."

"You expect me to believe a load of -"

"It's all essentially true, Percival." Agnes said. "Jake has simplified the story but it is basically my Genesis. I know you don't believe us, you think I'm a collection of expert systems of some sort but the reason you're here is primarily to convince you that I am sentient and conscious."

"How do you expect to do that?" Percival asked cautiously.

"If you'll come over here we'll show you, Percy," Jake said coaxing him over to the long wall to the left of the door. "Agnes, if you'll open the door-"

"I'm sorry Jake but you've piled your dirty laundry in front of the door."

"Oh shit, I forgot. Hold on, just let me get this crap out of the way." Jake said kicking the rumpled shirts and discolored underwear away from another metal door with no handle. "Okay Agnes, go for it."

Suspensefully, the door swung open revealing a closet containing an uncomfortable metal chair which sat hunched back beneath a tiny halogen lamp. "Don't worry Percy, it only looks like an electric chair. Actually you could call it an electron chair." Jake said, chuckling again.

Percival threw out a soft hand and squeezed it around Jake's neck, causing him to drop the mask and glasses. Before he could make any demands, Percival felt a slight pain on the back of his neck which burst through every nerve in his body. Then with a small whimper, he collapsed on the floor.

"I'm terribly sorry about doing that, Percival," Agnes said through the robot she was controlling as it cradled Percival's flaccid body. "But I just couldn't allow you to hurt Jake and it is rather important that you stay to help us. You shouldn't worry about the paralysis you're experiencing, it will only last about fifty seconds more."

"Agnes, put him in the chair and fix the restraints before he has control of his body," Jake said, still coughing and massaging his neck.

Agnes' mobile form carefully carried Percival to the chair and placed him in a sitting position. His whole body was numb. He could not feel the tightness of the padded buckles on his arms legs and head. As he was carried, he caught sight of the helmet-like apparatus which was held over the chair by an arm from behind. It was too haphazard to be sinister but it still added to the image. This helmet came down over his head, the front edge almost blocking his view.

"What you're sitting in will allow Agnes to communicate with you in almost pure concepts." Jake said enthusiastically. "I've used it a number of times myself. It's totally intense, you'll love it!"

Percival regained control just in time to scream.

"Dode, where'd you finally find him?"

"He was wandering around in a western sector of tractslums. I almost didn't recognize him, I thought the homer was on the fritz."

"What was his last call?"

"The comp-file in his van said it was getting a couple shell heads out of their house but the woman said he seemed fine when he left."

"I hope this isn't something serious I sure as hell don't want to end up looking like that."

They both stared at his slack face, at the far-focused eye which stared through a crack in his sunglasses.