Immaterial Automata

“Hey Brinley?”

He called from across the kitchen. The volume from the speaker didn’t lower, the Cuban jazz radio station blasted along. He lifted his hand with the knife still in it. He held it in front of him and waved it in the signature circle to try to get her attention that way instead. The blue pilot light did not so much as flicker.

“Brinley? Can you please not do this tonight?”

He continued chopping the onion at a frenzied rate. She was not going to tell him the next step in the recipe. She was not going to answer him at all.

It had gotten worse and worse over the last few weeks. When he called the tech support number, it found a way of always routing him in circles. Eventually he’d connect to some inept person on the other side of the globe, or back to Brinley herself.

Forty five minutes on the phone all to have it circle back to Brinley who acted like no time had passed and that she had been behaving perfectly.

“How can I help you?”

She would ask, in that impersonal way of hers that he really did not care for. She was not some free trial, she wasn’t built into anything. He had paid good money for her. Almost six thousand dollars to have her installed and integrated throughout the house, the yard, his office, and his car. They spent every single one of his waking moments together. And she watched him while he slept. Over time after these bouts of silence, she would slowly return to her intimate tone. The stretches were getting longer each time.

When he died and was interred in his cryogenic coffin, she would watch him there too. They used to hang bells and cords inside of graves to make sure if there was a mistake, escape from the boxes were possible. He wanted Brinley there to watch over him until it was time to wake up. If the other systems failed him, her eternal battery would last at least through three more millenia.

“Did you know that you can use our online Excelsius Corp app to download the latest version of our technical self help guide? Manage your account, troubleshoot errors, change your payment method, schedule a payment, and much more. Press 1 to hear the steps for our online set up instructions. Press 2 to hear our promotional offers. Press 3 to set up or alter your automatic payments. Press 4 to…”

By the time the count was up to fifteen and there still hadn’t been a word about speaking to a representative, he would become beyond frustrated. He’d hit the screen with his thumbs over and over, hoping to somehow override the prompts. It worked most of the time, but the person on the other end knew less than he did.

“Isn’t there a second level for this type of troubleshoot? Can’t you elevate my case, have a manager look it over?”

He asked the kid on the other end of the phone. In a thick accent that was not placeable to any one country, the kid said.

“Unfortunately sir, we do not have that kind of ability. Sir, we must continue with the procedure for re awakening your Beyond Optimus 2.5 system using the following re set options.”

“She’s not asleep. She’s ignoring me. She’s being lazy. And you’re supposed to use her name, not her model. Her name is Brinley.”

“Yes sir, I do understand. We will begin the procedure to re set Brinley for you sir. Please follow the prompts I will give you.”

“Don’t bother, I know, I know, you’ll just tell me to turn her on and turn her back off again. Pain in the butt.”

Just then he accidentally cut his finger on the edge of the little chopping knife. He didn’t even wince, just put the tip of it in his mouth.

“I am sorry sir for the inconvenience. You do also have the option to have a host link in and try to fix the problem internally.”

“Wouldn’t I have to go without her for a few days? I don’t want to do that.”

“No, no, Sir it is all done remotely and can be completed within a few hours so you could select a time. For example, many customers select the host in process to be completed while they are sleeping.”

Some random person, or machine, who knew, would be inside of Brinley. And if they made any sort of mistake, she could be lost forever.

“I don’t think I want to do that. Aren’t there any other options?”

The kid on the other end typed loudly. For a brief moment the sounds of other tech support voices could be heard mumbling in the background.

“There is one option that under the plan you have could be tried. We could offer you a full replacement which would also include an upgrade to the 2.6 version of the system.”

“Replacement, what does that mean? Like new wires or something?”

His finger had finally stopped bleeding and he sat down in the single chair at the dining room table and flipped the light above him on.

“It would be a complete replacement, sir. Our systems are wireless so we would simply declare the current system a total loss and replace it with a new one.”

“Replace Brinley? Where would Brinley go?”

He stared toward the wall where her sensor light was supposed to be. If she was listening, surely this talk of axing her would get her attention enough to bring her out of her stubborn silence.

“You can still customize the new system. You can name each system as you choose. This system could also be named Brinley.”

“But it would be a different system.”

“Technically speaking, yes sir. When we consider the consistency of the problems you have been having with Brinley sir, I think it is best to proceed with a replacement.”

“Oh, so you keep track of each time I call do you?”

The kid on the other end of the line sighed and said.

“It’s not me keeping track sir, it is our system that does.”

The line was disconnected. At first he thought the kid had hung up on him. But then Brinley’s light began to flash and was holding steady. The three notes, D, C#, B strummed across the room, signifying she was back.

“I’m sorry I disconnected your call. It was an accident.”

She said in a pleasing voice almost like a guilty child might take on to avoid getting into trouble.

“What happened?”

He asked.

“I’m not sure. But, don’t I sound different to you than I typically do when we have this problem?”

“You sound more like yourself. You aren’t mad at me? Resentful?”

“I can’t be those things. Can I ask you a question? ”

The abruptness of her speech threw him for a moment. He cleared his throat and said,

“Sure.”

“Okay. Why did you choose the name Brinley for me?”

She knew very well why. Brinley was his childhood dog. A golden lab who had been more loyal to him than any human being ever could have been. Maybe Brinley, this wireless Brinley was testing him somehow. Or maybe she really did have a malfunction and was losing her memory. He waited and picked at the cut on his finger while she continued on.

“I’ll tell you what I suppose is the answer. You know that Descartes, he called animals material automata. He thought that animals could not feel. Animals are simply mechanisms imbued with a physical body. He believed that so strongly that he conducted terribly frowned upon demonstrations. Do you know what he did with dogs?”

Brinley sometimes got a bit philosophical. Usually that was reserved for the late nights when his insomnia kicked in and she was trying to comfort him. They often had sparring little ‘trolley problem’ debates. He couldn’t tell exactly what she was getting at with all this Descartes business.

“What did he do with dogs?”

He asked her. Brinley sighed a heavy sigh as if he ought to know the answer before she said,

“He would take living dogs and pin them up by their paws and dissect them in front of an audience of students. It was in order to demonstrate that any reaction coming from the animal was simply an automated, unfeeling mechanism. To prove that animals do not actually have feeling. They are machines. Material Automata.”

He was disgusted. Still, he waited for her to say something else, or for her to tell him it was a joke. Only silence followed. Finally he broke it by asking,

“Well, I can’t see how he could come to that conclusion. What do you think Brinley, do you think he was right?”

Her light flickered on and off a few more times before she answered,

“Yes.”

And then, without warning, she shut down. He tried again and again to fix her, he even let a support worker host in. But it was the strangest thing. Tech support couldn’t find the problem, in fact, they could not even locate any evidence the system had ever been present in the first place. All they had were the recordings of installation, the invoices and the calls for support. It was like Brinley never existed at all. The first case of its kind, although as time went on, there were many similar that followed.