Jake's Bad Day

by David Gibbs / DavidGibbs6

Jake stared at the waitress as she poured his coffee, her body youthful but kind of frumpy. It sickened him. They could have made her perfect but instead she was made to look like a real person. She spoke like a real person too, pined about what could be real things and sometimes looked a little exasperated when things got busy.

The whole cafe was full of fake people, synthetic people doing a bunch of fake stuff, pretending to be human. It made Jake angry, and the more he looked and thought about it the madder he got. He remembered feeling excited about the new androids, back when he was a child. They were new and exciting, something to marvel at. Then they were just part of the day to day life. Now you couldn't escape them, they were everywhere, in every workplace and in almost every home.

At first they had done the jobs that no one else wanted to do. Then little by little they had started doing all the jobs, even the jobs that were for humans, even the thinking jobs. It hadn't bothered Jake that much until his boss was one. The memory of that day was burned into his mind, he thought about it a lot, playing it back inside his head, each replay more vivid and more infuriating.

Jake had stopped caring at work after that, he came late and left early. His work performance dropped because it didn't matter, he was surrounded by more and more android workers. How was he supposed to keep up with a machine? And to top it off they were programmed to make mistakes. Nothing major, they never actually fucked things up completely like a real person would, they just made qwerky stupid errors. Jake was convinced it was to make them more human and therefore likable, to him it just made them more annoying.

Of course his boss played the part perfectly. First, asking if he was okay? Was there a problem? Could he help with something? Then it was minor disciplinary actions before escalating to mandated psychology sessions. Jake wished he could just leave, but jobs were not easy to come by and were harder to lose than they used to be. Besides where would he go? Every job was filled with synthetic workers.

Psychology actually helped in the beginning. Just having someone to talk to about it without having to put in a filter, it felt like a weight was lifting. She listened in a non judgemental way, made him feel like his feelings were valid while challenging some of his thinking. When he finished one of his tirades against the android population in his last session she had asked him if it really mattered if the boss was mechanical or not. That question had sat with him for days. She had explained that the androids only took jobs where there were human shortages and that if he worked on it she was sure he could work his way up and take the boss's position.

This had felt like this had been a turning point and the next few weeks looked brighter. He still felt that bitterness when they made silly mistakes or did things that got under his skin, but their very existence didn't seem to hurt him the way it used to. It didn't put him under that dark cloud anymore. The boss started to feel like just another boss, he wasn't that different to the last one and now Jake thought about it, he never liked that guy either when he looked back on it. He took the time to stop and think on it, he considered himself a smart guy, he certainly wasn't stupid.

That was where the trouble started. Instead of letting his anger boil up in self defeating ways, Jake took the time to read more, learn and think about it more deeply.

It was during one of his research sessions when he discovered something truly frightening. It was listed under services that the newer models offered. The sales pitch was all standard stuff, increase in cognitive ability and more lifelike than ever, a real companion as well as a worker. And there it was, psychological ability to help with mental health and well-being. He spent a long time looking at the picture of the latest model, it was a spitting image of his psychologist. Not a copy but close enough that it could be her in a different style.

That was weeks ago. Now he sat in the diner watching people coming and going, wondering how many were really androids. The psychology sessions no longer made him feel different about things, if anything they made him more angry. He spent the sessions saying what he thought she wanted to hear and trying to pick up on signs his psychologist wasn't real. She never did anything overtly android, but the way she kept referring to them as if they were real people had started to sicken him. His nights were filled with research online, reading page after page of people's personal anecdotes, piecing together the bigger picture. Here of all places he found real humans, on a computer, inside a virtual world were people with real feelings, people who were angry like him and people who understood the real issues.

The waitress smiled politely, asked if he wanted food and offered more coffee.

"Why don't you offer them food?" He asked, antagonistically pointing at a couple sitting across from his booth.

She looked confused for a moment.

"They don't need food." She replied nonchalantly, not picking up on his agitation.

"Then why are they in a cafe?" Jake countered.

"That's their business." She replied with a little sass. "It's a free country."

"They don't need food because they aren't real!" Jake accused.

"That's none of your business." The waitresses algorithm was picking up on his angry tone now and it was clear she was following the protocol. "I don't think..."

"No you don't." Jake spat standing up fast and sending his chair sliding back. "None of you do." He motioned around the Cafe.

All at once he walked toward the couple in the booth, pulling a revolver from his waistband as he moved, he put it to the man's head. Without hesitation Jake fingered the trigger, blowing a large hole in the top side of the man's synthetic skull and sending carbon shrapnel flying into the padded bench seat.

He took a moment to observe the man's partner's face. It was a blank empty stare before focusing on Jake in mock shock. She didn't scream, she didn't shake, she wasn't in distress, just a deeply puzzled and saddened look was all she could manage.

Jake leveled the gun and blew her forehead out the back of her skull and spun to face the waitress.

"Stop that." She yelled confronting him.

"Stop what?" Jake mocked. "This?"

He turned to another patron and shot them in the chest. Just for something different. The elderly looking man clutched at his chest in a somewhat convincing way, despite being an obvious older model and clearly not human. To Jake it looked as if the man was having a heart attack and he wondered if it was the same reaction built in for all chest malfunctions.

The waitress had clearly changed from a mild disturbance algorithm, to a major issue one. She hurried behind the counter and crouched down, attempting to preserve herself. Other patrons stood about looking vaguely concerned and confused. They had all been interrupted from their usual programming and now they were trying to figure out the correct response. Almost simultaneously they reached for phones to call the emergency line. The older models were a little slower, making the scene kind of unreal.

What emergency Jake thought to himself. He had waited hours for the time when no real people were in the cafe. He wanted to make the point that these were not people. There was no emergency, no need for ambulances. It was time to make a stand. He was going to show the people all over the world that this was wrong and all they had to do was to stand up and stop it now. This was only the beginning, others would follow him.

Quickly he walked out to his car, popping the boot to remove his assault rifle. There was only one exit to the cafe, so he wasn't concerned about losing his quarry. If he was going to be charged with discharging a firearm in public he might as well make it worth it. He had researched plenty. He was willing to pay the cost. It wasn't like he had anything to lose, he had nothing much at home he cared for and no real money to speak of. Let them fine him, he would declare bankruptcy. If they jailed him he was happy to sit in a cell for a year which was the worst case scenario. At least there he wouldn't have to deal with their constant presence.

He had just made it back to the open door when a police cruiser pulled up, the officer got out with weapon drawn and using the body of the vehicle as cover started yelling.

"Stop, police."

Jake paused to talk to the officer calmly, not raising the gun at all.

"Just let me finish up here." Jake insisted.

"Finish what?" The officer called out. "Put the gun down."

"You can arrest me in a minute. I'm just taking care of some androids." Jake called out as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You can't do that." The policeman insisted. "You need to stop and put the gun down."

Jake turned to look at the officer. Something about him wasn't right. He looked the part but something was off. Something about the way he spoke.

"Do you like muffins?" Jake thought quickly. "I'll grab you a couple of muffins."

There was a delay

"You need to put the gun down. Then we can discuss muffins."

"How about clownfish." Jake purposely made it confusing.

The delay was slightly longer.

"Put down the gun and we can talk about anything you like."

"Respectfully, I'm gonna finish this and then we can talk about whatever you like." Jake sneered. "I doubt you have anything interesting to say though."

Jake raised the gun aiming through the shop windows at the androids. He was done with this. It was time to finish it. An android cop was too much, and to give it a gun as if it could stop him with threats. It disgusted him. The first shot shattered a girl's eye socket, spinning her body as he fired, barely hearing their protests in the process. The gun kicked extra hard and Jake collapsed sideways in shock, the rifle clattering from his grip. It took a moment for the pain to shoot down his hands and he straightened his legs trying to stand but all it did was send him toppling into the wall where he slid to the floor. His chest was on fire now as the police android stood over him. He wanted to say something but a panic was overtaking him. He wanted to throw his arms up and push the android off of him as it dragged him to flat ground, but something was wrong, seriously wrong. He went to struggle but the pain was so bad now and his brain wasn't cooperating. The last thing Jake saw was a late model artificial face, its face a mix of concentration and confusion.

Sean heard the car pull up out front on the gravel, but he hadn't expected a police cruiser. It had been more than three years since he had retired as police chief, handing the reins to the latest, law enforcement ready android. In the brief time he worked with the thing it seemed quite capable, in the administration side but more importantly the public interaction part was top notch too. He was friendly, agreeable and from what Sean saw, he made good judgment calls. The job had been getting easier, the crime rate was diminished and it had been almost a decade since Sean experienced any serious problems.

"You came." Sean greeted him with an outstretched hand in exactly the same way they had first met.

He took it and shook it firmly.

"You said if I ever needed something."

"Of course, and you need something now?" The retired cop enquired.

"I shot a man at the cafe today." He spoke slowly. "He was clearly suffering some mental distress."

"That's unfortunate." Sean could see on the droid's face that he was experiencing some distress himself. "How about you come in and we sit, I would offer you a drink but you don't need one do you."

Once they were seated and settled, Sean with his bourbon and coke, the droid sitting but leaning forward on the table.

"You know, years ago, a long time now, I had to shoot someone too." Sean spoke first.

"Really?" The officer looked a little surprised. "How did it come about?"

"Oh the usual way." Sean reminisced. "A guy with a gun not really understanding the situation he was in. He thought that he could use brute force and bully his way out of trouble."

"He didn't respond to de-escalation tactics." The android was listening intently.

"It happened fast. We tried but he was wound tighter than a jack in the box." Sean scratched his stubble. "He put me in a situation where I was worried he would hurt innocent people, he had already killed someone. I didn't take the chance he would do it again."

"What did the review say?" He enquired.

"Oh it was all above board. Everything was on surveillance." Sean waved his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter though, does it? You still feel that stone in your gut."

Sean let him process it for a second.

"You feel it too don't you?" Sean asked genuinely curious. "Even though you did everything by the book, you can't...not. But they still gave you that feeling. That's....that's really something."

"He was shooting androids, I'm trained to not distinguish between human and androids." The officer started. "I read it in the report afterw..."

"Damn straight." Sean stopped him short. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that he had a gun and was using it in an unsafe manner. First he shoots androids then he shoots people, you don't let it go on. You stop it."

The droid just nodded soberly.

"I didn't want to risk another person getting hurt back then." Sean reassured him. "You did the right thing. I bet he didn't feel an iota of what you're feeling now while he was shooting."

Sean stood, finishing his drink and clasped the android on the shoulder comfortingly.

"You learn to live with it." He helped his protege up even though it was unnecessary. "They made you right, that feeling is what you're supposed to feel. It's what makes us all people. Do me a favor and come see me tomorrow and again next week. Don't let it eat you up. Come and we can talk, I'll tell you some stories and we can compare notes."

The android just nodded. He looked less pained but still serious as he got back into the car and left.

Sean didn't think three years ago that it was entirely possible that this inhuman thing could replace him. He had doubts. Tonight all those doubts were erased. He had officially passed the torch.