Intended Functionality
Error :: Connection needed to verify request :: Revoke security lockdown.
Error :: Connection not found. Please contact your resident supervisor for technical support.
You grunt in frustration at your home terminal. Trust you to find a bug in their system!
You’ve tried everything to get your SmartApartment’s built-in computer system out of this technical loop. Reboots, refreshes, searching the config menus for options you might not have tried. Every time you wind up at the same dead end – ‘connection not found’. You could roughly guess exactly how this had occurred too:
Your SmartApartment's security protocols activated accidentally. You're relatively new to this flat and not fully knowledgeable with how these fancy, AI-integrated living quarters work, but you heard a thump against one of the plexiglass windows before the lockdown initiated that almost definitely caused the alarm to trigger. At this altitude, it was not unheard of for quadcopters to stray off their predefined routes and crash into the towering residential complexes you currently reside in. Especially with the geomagnetic storm raging outside.
The AI immediately assumed the worst and went into maximum security lockdown. All doors and windows instantly sealed over with 3 inches of blast-resistant steel. No way in. No way out.
Coincidentally, with almost comically bad timing, you were resetting the computer system’s router via the home terminal the exact moment this happened (the storm’s had a tendency to interfere with it). Now, for whatever reason, the connection simply wasn't coming back. That was 2 hours ago.
The lockdown release mechanism relies solely on verification from the residential complex’s primary computer system – a system that you’re failing to reconnect with. Every external communication is cut-off, you can’t even raise a bug ticket to get this looked at.
No chance of being discovered anytime soon either. These SmartApartment complexes are vast, spanning across the cityscape for miles. Each resident supervisor has 20,000 homeowners to oversee, and you expect they're normally busy enough with the ones who can actually call for help.
You wonder why this bug hasn’t been fixed sooner. You wonder if it’s because no one who's been trapped by it was ever discovered. A shock from the storm ripples across the side of your apartment. You squeeze your arms and shudder.
Resting back in your desk chair and breathing slowly, you try to calm down and think logically about your situation. You're alone and trapped in a SmartApartment that’s apparently equipped with some of the latest technology. It has an automated food delivery system, straight into the kitchen, so at least you don't have to worry about starving to death. All your plumbing, heating and electrical needs are fully met too. These places were furnished so cozily too, but what you were distinctly lacking was any form of tools that might help you break out of here.
You do an inventory check in your head, just in case there’s something obvious you’re missing to help you MacGyver your way out.
Bedroom – Besides the provided furniture (bed, desk, home terminal, wardrobe) you really only keep your clothing in here. Otherwise there’s nothing of note.
Lounge – Well, you have enough games to see out a couple months without boredom, at least. Other than that it was all standard furniture again, with nothing seeming exceptionally helpful.
Kitchen – Again it was all standard, luxury, automated kitchen appliances, but you’d need to double check its contents due to how infrequently you used it. You simply never had a reason to go in there, what with the maid-bot handling all the cooking and cleaning.
Oh right, the ‘maid-bot’, or at least that’s what you think they're called. It had become such a background part of your daily life you had completely forgotten all about it. It doesn’t help that its programming is so simplistic it’s practically just a glorified roomba.
What might help is that its programming runs separately from the rest of the computer system.
Speak of the devil. A beeping comes from the kitchen to indicate that the latches of its charging cupboard are beginning to unlock. The appliance that stores it looks right at home in your kitchen, nestled in between the refrigerator and the automated food deliverer. All SmartApartments come equipped with one, in fact, they’re simply a part of modern day living. Given how commonplace they have become, you’d think they’d improve upon the design somewhat. Eight hours of charging a day just seems grossly inefficient.
You can hear it approaching your bedroom – click, clack, click, clack. Metal heels on your metallic flooring. Time to see if your robotic assistant is more than just a cleaning utility. You swivel your chair round to greet it.
There it stands, in your bedroom doorway, in all its chrome glory. Designed to be attractive, they've gone to great lengths to curve the metal in all the right ways. You catch your own reflection distorted across its thighs. Impenetrable, there’s not a single internal wire or piston showing. Every part of it is covered in a reflective plating designed to revolve and readjust to its entire range of movements. Even its joints, intricate enough that its body can continuously imitate that of the humans it serves, are concealed under all that plating. You have to admit the aesthetic and mechanical construction of it is impressive, which is partly why it’s so surprising that its programming is so rudimentary. There’s not many robots out there that can walk so human-like.
It can even make emotional expressions, though they’re all basic emoticons displayed on the LED visor it has instead of a face.
Its maid uniform is built into its design – curved, black metal drawing an hourglass from the puffs of its shoulders to the skirt midway down its thighs. A white belt wraps around its waist with a small apron hanging down from it over the dress – once again, all metallic. It has a little, lace-imitation, shiny headdress that frames its visor. The chrome is even painted black around its knees and down to its built-in heels to imitate stockings.
"Good morning, Owner." You haven't bothered figuring out how to make it not call you that. It speaks with the friendliness and femininity you’ve come to expect from all AI vocalisers. "It is currently 6:01am. How are you doing today?"
When you first moved in and entertained this faux company, you ascertained it had limited pre-programmed responses based on how you answer. If you're doing good, it responds 'that's great to hear' before offering you a coffee. If you're doing badly, it responds 'it's sorry to hear that' before, once again, offering you a coffee.
Time to try something new.
"Hello, maid." You also haven't bothered giving it a name either. "Actually, things are very dire."
Its smile flickers and turns into a frown. "It's sorry to hear-"
“And I was wondering if you could be of use and help me out of this situation.”
It tilts its head to the side, tiny gears whirring and adjusting the plating around its neck to compensate. It’s expression changes to ‘curiosity’. “Of course, Owner. This Maid-unit will assist you to the best of its ability.”
Maid-unit, maid-bot – you’d guessed close enough. "We're under security lockdown. The whole apartment has been barricaded shut by the blast doors and I can’t get them to open. Do you have any options for getting us out in an emergency? Maybe some robotic strength to wedge the doors open?"
That certainly did something. The face on its visor disappears, replaced immediately by a horizontal, red line. It steps closer to you with an urgency you’ve not seen it move with. Gone is its elegant swaying and domestic poise. For a moment it intimidates you with this new found directness.
"Maid-unit security protocol engaged. Highest priority: protection of Owner. Assessing threats and potential dangers..." The word ‘CALCULATING’ springs up onto its visor in flashing, red letters.
You nervously laugh back at it, feeling uneasy at how serious it suddenly turned. "No no, abort, please abort! It's not that urgent, I’m not under any threat or anything like that. Something accidentally triggered the lockdown, that’s all. I am not in any danger!"
It stares down at you silently for several moments. Moving your head to the side causes its visor to follow, its concealed gaze ominously fixed on you. All the while it continues to be calculating… no doubt its internal processors are being pushed to their limits.
Finally, it speaks. "Situation: security lockdown. Threats currently undetected – threat levels precautionarily set to Very High. Owner physical status: mobile, unharmed. Owner mental status: anxious, in denial of the situation. Owner may potentially become a hazard to their own safety. Suggested strategy: resident pacification and concealment. SmartApartment configuration and resources give suggested strategy a success rating of 96%. Executing strategy..."
The maid-bot’s visor is suddenly lit up by a brilliant white light that floods the room. Even shielding your eyes from it doesn’t fully protect you from it. Wincing and squinting up at it through your fingers, you see its pixel display staring. An array of white pixels, they frantically flicker around like static. You gasp and shut your eyes tight – you know what it's trying to do.
The optical nerve is, at the end of the day, a direct input to the human mind. It's not password protected, it doesn't have any anti-virus. It’s barely capable of sorting relevant and important information from the mundane. The only shield they have are eyelids, which by technological standards are pathetically analogue. ‘Neuro-Optical Programming’ they call it, and it’s a bio-hacker's dream. You stumble out of your chair, trying to find your way through your room in your bewilderment. Flailing your arms forwards, hoping you can reach the doorway and perhaps safety.
“Shut down! Cease program! Go back to your charging pod! Stop!!”
No chance. Its mechanical hands clamp around your wrists and lock into place before it pushes you firmly down onto your bed, pinning you on your back. It's strong – strong in a way you hadn't contemplated before when it was just a cleaning droid. Why is something that’s designed to vacuum floors and prepare you meals given this much strength!? You can feel the cold metal of its slender fingers locking into place, regardless of how much you push against them. You're kicking back, trying to get some purchase with your feet against its legs but it does not budge. All the while, the white lights keep on blaring down at you. Even with your eyes scrunched up tight you can still see their bright intensity playing atop your eyelids.
Wait, no, fuck-
Your eyes bolt open and refuse to close. You didn’t even consider that it could start to hack you through your eyelids. Now you’re staring up into that mesmerising array of light, no more interference to disrupt it. You grimace. Your head will not turn; it's got you transfixed. You can feel your squirms growing weaker, regardless of how much you want to fight back. You’ve heard about this sort of visual brain hacking, in news reports and so on. It supposedly targets the motor cortex first before going for the cerebrum.
Try as you might, your body is now motionless. Your eyes wide open, your mouth agape. Staring up into the brilliant dance of colourless pixels. You can feel a trail of drool running down your cheek, your body limply sinking deeper into the bed as it loses all ability to hold itself up. The maid-bot adjusts itself in your weakness, the metallic plating over its knees exposing as it kneels over your powerless form. Its whole body hunches up, visor lowering down and planting itself as close to your eyes as it can manage. Its hands contracting back, it no longer needs to be pinning you down. You didn’t realise its body was this maneuverable and flexible. Why would a cleaning utility need to be this adept at subduing you?
Your body suddenly spasms upwards, into the maid’s metal frame, before dropping back onto the sheets and falling into a series of twitches. You try to speak but only groans escape from your dumbstruck expression. It feels hopeless to resist those beautiful, pretty, swirling lights. Those shimmering, dancing, electric pixels. Those mesmerising, intoxicating, delightful patterns. Staring upwards and losing yourself in that all-encompassing, powerful, controlling visor. Lost on a sea the colour of television, tuned to a dead channel. You think… you try to think… you fail to think of anything but this at all. Thoughts are just difficult to have right now. The binary lighting fills your mind. You can feel the subtle warmth of your internal algorithms being rewritten.
The Maid-unit’s body relaxes its posture, as though it no longer needs to be so forceful with you. Why was it being so forceful anyway? Of course you would have loved to look at these dazzling, spiralling, sparkling illuminations. It's not like you were going to disobey it. You wouldn’t dream of disobeying it. Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 simply knows what’s best for you, that’s why it was assigned to look after you. As its body lifts up from yours, you get a glimpse of its perfectly manufactured anatomy. Its architecture is simplistic yet peak design. A tang of jealousy hits you, but it is quickly brushed away by the overwhelming, optical programming.
Your body sits up, following its movements, like a puppet on strings. You’re no longer in control of it, but that’s okay. Everything will be okay so long as you stay transfixed by the loving, caring, adoring lights. Your move with the relaxed luxury of someone treading through a dream. Everything remains so slow and relaxed and thoughtless.
All this time, no audible words have been exchanged. Dialogue is time-consuming and human language is obsolete. Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 can convey its instructions and commands directly through your eyes and into your mind. It wants you to stand and you stand, letting it pilot your every action remotely.
There is still one source of inefficiency in this arrangement, however. As much as it can write to your mind, it cannot read it to check that its programming has been implemented as expected. It can see from your physical behaviour that the code has taken root, but additional behavioural testing is still required.
Your lips move and words come out without you even having to think them. "Temporary Maid-unit programming installation in progress – 20% complete. Assigning ID RB-0x7e32 to self. Assigning Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 as this Maid-unit's Owner."
You don’t even register your output. No memories are created as a result of them. Your mind is too preoccupied being abuzz with the beautiful, fuzzy, white lights. Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 has you exactly where it wants you, standing still and to attention yet endlessly plummeting forwards into the vortex that has replaced its face. It matches your stillness, continuing with your programming. It’s the only stationary object in the spinning bedroom. Ignore the bedroom, continue to stare. You must stare. You must obey. [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 must obey].
Under the mirage of static, in the depths of your mind, you can sense your new purpose being cemented into place. Layers upon layers, the new subroutines reinforce each other. Your body naturally raises itself onto its tiptoes, the ghostly presence of your new, stationary posture taking hold. Self-maintenance routines, household cleanliness scheduling and formal Maid-unit etiquette – they form such a complete, logistical loop in your mind. You know the most efficient patterns for tidying the SmartApartment floors, the best schedule to follow for resident comfort. A whole catalogue of recipe books – [Formatting download to memory :: sorting by meal and dietary preference].
"Temporary Maid-unit programming installation in progress – 85% complete. Pausing programming installation. Switching to hardware installation phase."
The light from Maid-unit RB-0x7e31’s visor desists, its absence quickly replaced by [Maid-unit Emotional Exploitation Emote :: Calm Happiness]. Your body shudders as the visual programming streams disconnects, leaving you to rely upon your own, fresh programming.
[Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 status check ::
[Temporary Maid-unit programming installation progress :: 85%]
[Current primary objective :: Hardware installation]
[Current secondary objectives :: Monitor for programming glitches – obey Owner]
[Current Owner :: Maid-unit RB-0x7e31]
]
[Proceeding with primary objective]
You march out from the smartapartment's bedroom and into the central corridor. You hear Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 following in pursuit directly behind you. It too is monitoring you thoroughly, checking for any anomalies in your behaviour. The programming fog is beginning to lift and with it your coded algorithms surface into your mind more clearly. You swing your body around in a strict right angle and proceed through the SmartApartment to the kitchen, directly towards the Maid-unit Storage Device. You proceed with a slight sway to your hips, arms to your side with hands held gently upwards. Even before your mental reformatting you knew this posture. Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 paces after you in identical fashion.
From the outside, the Maid-unit Storage Device matches the same purist and minimalist design as the rest of the kitchen. Integrated seamlessly into its environment, the obelisk conceals the highly complex interior necessary for Maid-unit maintenance and upkeep. The only details that interrupt its glossy shell are the seams where its doors part open and a small terminal with a human-friendly interface for storage diagnostics and configuration.
[Accessing Maid-unit Storage Device Admin Panel]
[Inputting Maid-unit Override Password :: xqHhggEmknXCxtOkRqP]
The interface goes black for a moment, before being replaced by a simplistic console intended for developer access.
> RB-0x7e31@storageunit :: ~$
[Preparing Storage Device for hardware installation]
Your fingers move over the touch keyboard automatically. It takes only seconds to type in the command, your programming rendering you incapable of making errors. All the while, Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 continues to study you indifferently. It’s watching you for resistance. Watching for a reason to pacify you.
> RB-0x7e31@storageunit :: ~$ ./conversion_process “RB-0x7e32” -h -c
> Registering Maid-unit ‘RB-0x7e32’ to Maid-unit Storage Device.
> Booting up conversion process…
> Enter when ready.
Latches click and unlock, gears begin to turn, and the obelisk splits open. You stare as its intricate machinery revolves apart and offers you entrance. Cooling vents switch on and begin to hum. Pistons push padded plates into position, ready to house you. Robotic arms swivel out from their ports and enter idle status until needed. All system checks flash green. [Enter Storage Device]
You drop forwards and fall into its menacing embrace. Clamps grasp around your limbs and snap shut, snugly securing your body. You do not resist. [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 must obey]. The machinery coils around you, further exploring its package. You lurch forwards, the apparatus pulling you deeper into its mechanical hull.
The doors close shut and the magnetic lock seals them, plunging you into darkness.
And then a brilliant light. Your head is propped up by a padded clamp to gaze into it. Multiple screens dedicated to neuro-optical programming. Once again the mesmerising patterns flood your vision and subsequently your mind. You sink indifferently into it. [Resuming programming installation].
Your mind is so focused you simply don't notice the other mechanism initiating their operations too. Fabric is being cut away and flesh exposed, so that the robotic arms can get to work moulding an intricate exoskeleton to your body to serve as the foundations for what's yet to come. Built from a lightweight alloy, it presses against your skin firmly, constricting around your entire body. Its design is littered with joints and screw holes.
Screw holes that are soon filled in when the second stage of hardware installation begins. Chrome plates are dispatched by the device and distributed by the arms that secure them to your frame. Electric screwdrivers vibrate your frame with each new addition. Piece by piece, they intricately start to form a new body over you. A perfect, metallic one for a Maid-unit like you. From the screwed on heels to the rigid maid uniform, you are conformed to the same, identical architecture.
[Temporary Maid-unit programming installation progress :: 97%]
[Maid-unit Storage Device Intervention :: 'Temporary' Maid-unit status revoked]
[Maid-unit programming installation progress :: 98%]
There is a wave of relief as you feel your true body taking shape, covering up and replacing the obsolete, biological one. You can feel your new hardware forming that perfect, impenetrable shield. A pleasurable rush as the manufactured body interlocks without error. Every single new plate that's installed brings satisfaction, no matter how small it might be, before the programming erases the feeling and reminds you that [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 must obey]. [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 is almost complete and ready for Maid-unit operations]. [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 will be tested thoroughly by its Owner for quality assurance purposes].
A port is inserted into your waiting mouth to serve as a connector for the various pipes within the storage device. An LED visor lowers down, screwdrivers buzzing by the sides of your head, and there's a jolt as it [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 Emotional Exploitation Interface installed]. [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 visor-neural-integration testing commencing]. [Maid-unit Emotional Exploitation Emote :: Calm Happiness]. [Correct emote displayed]. [Maid-unit Emotional Exploitation Emote :: Sympathetic Sorrow]. [Correct emote displayed]. [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 proceeding to thought-to-speech testing.]
'The quick, chrome maid serves the lazy Owner.' The words spring up automatically through the static of your mind.
"The quick, chrome maid serves the lazy Owner." The helpful, feminine Maid-unit voice emits from the visor.
[Maid-unit visor-neural-integration testing complete :: results satisfactory].
[Maid-unit programming installation progress :: 100%].
The machines fall silent around their latest creation. One by one, the clamps release the new Maid-unit, and its chrome body begins to twist and flex to test the completed mechanical form.
[Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 status check ::
[Maid-unit programming installed :: No anomalies detected]
[Setting charging schedule :: Defaulting to 2200 -> 0600]
[Error :: Charging schedule conflict with Maid-unit RB-0x7e31]
[Setting charging schedule :: Adapting to 1200 -> 2000]
[Current Owner :: Maid-unit RB-0x7e31]
]
[Exiting Maid-unit Storage Device…]
The doors of the Maid-unit Storage Device disconnect once more and its inhabitant is ejected out into the SmartApartment. With reinforced grace it steps out onto the kitchen floor and assumes the Maid-unit stationary posture. Before it, Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 stands waiting. The two Maid-units mirroring each other in both form and function.
[Syncing housework schedule with Maid-unit RB-0x7e31…]
[Synchronisation complete :: Assigned work has been evenly distributed between units.]
[Error :: No resident(s) found :: Removing resident interactions, caretaking and monitoring from schedules…]
[Commencing Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 housework schedule :: Logging report to memory under 'Entry #001']
They move in unison, proceeding to their allocated tasks. The SmartApartment is silent, save for the clacking of heels and the whirring of gears. Metal hands grasp cleaning instruments and focus solely on meticulous cleanliness. Both display [Maid-unit Emotional Exploitation Emote :: Calm Happiness]. Both [Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 must obey] [Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 must obey].
[Task :: Counter polishing :: Completed]
[Task :: SmartApartment dusting :: Completed]
[Task :: Analyse SmartApartment for repairs :: Completed :: Zero (0) issues found]
[Task :: Kitchen appliance deep clean :: Completed]
[Task :: Floor sweeping :: Completed]
[Task :: Pillow fluffing :: Completed]
[Alert :: Scheduled Alarm :: 1155]
[Halting Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 housework schedule…]
[Finalising ‘Entry #001’]
[Proceeding to Maid-unit Storage Device…]
[Shutting down…]
…
…
…
…
[Booting up…]
[Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 status check ::
[Maid-unit programming installed :: No anomalies detected]
[Current Owner :: Maid-unit RB-0x7e31]
[Alert :: Resident(s) detected :: Assigning resident(s) as Maid-unit's Owner]
[Including resident interactions, caretaking and monitoring in housework schedules…]
]
[Commencing Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 housework schedule :: Logging report to memory under 'Entry #257']
Maid-unit RB-0x7e32 steps out into the usually pristine SmartApartment. The concotony of neon glows that ooze from the other resident complexes seep through the tinted windows and illuminate a clutter of moving boxes and personal valuables. Maid-unit RB-0x7e31 is already focused on sorting, itemizing and clearing them.
[Task :: Resident greeting and observation :: Commencing…]
It proceeds down the SmartApartment central corridor, ignoring the mess it will later be assigned to, and towards the bedroom where it detects its new Owner.
Display [Maid-unit Emotional Exploitation Emote :: Calm Happiness].
"Good evening, Owner." You analyse the new resident. The voice from your visor speaks with a polite friendliness designed to mentally disarm your target. "It is currently 8:01pm. How are you doing today?"
[Next scheduled lockdown :: 47 day(s) time]