It was a cloudy, sunless afternoon when Marvin returned to his small, dark apartment at exactly 6:36 p.m. He had just finished his ten-hour shift. He was beyond exhausted. His feet were numb, his hands trembled; and he almost forgot to lock the front door. His only concern right now was to drop himself on the couch as soon as possible. He threw his work bag as far from the door as he could, shook his shoes off as fast as possible, and just fell over the moment he reached it. The old, broken couch creaked and released a puff of dust from the rips in its thin, worn-out fabric. Marvin closed his eyes, turned over to the side, then opened them again and reached for the remote. It was just another plain, long day in the year 2052, uremarkable as any other.
Marvin was a quiet, unambitious man somewhere in his mid 30's, living in a crowded, three-roomed apartment with his best mate, Nial. It wasn't the best way to live, but it's kept them both alive for the last 10 years. And it would be redundant to say it was certainly better than sleeping outside.
Marvin worked as a janitor in the office building of some big, fancy company; one of the few that wasn't in the property of a bigger one. Well, he wasn't really a janitor in the traditional sense of the word. You could say he was "the after cleaner".
When the flashy cleaning robots were done mopping the floor, or wiping the window, or sweeping the cobwebs off the ceiling's edges...; Marvin would always be right behind them to brush off anything they might have missed. It was a petty, degrading experience, sure; but it payed adequately. And it's not as if he had any other choice anyways. It was one of the few jobs that, for the time being, wouldn't be fully automatized. At least until the engineers who design the bots find a way to patch that up too. Marvin wouldn't really mind if that were to happen. Really, he's been looking for an excuse to quit for a long time now.
He took the job way back in 2037, when he was still a young man, barely out of high school, looking for a part time career to pay for his college. But it was a different time back then. Obviously now his tuition meant nothing, as did a lot of other people's hard-earned knowledge. They were replaced by someone, or something, much smarter, capable and edurant than them...
It never got tired, it never got hungry, and it never stepped away from its workstation. It benefited everyone except its predecessors, and they were far too outnumbered to fight back. Of course, it wasn't perfect, but it was the best option for everyone besides the aforementioned.
And Marvin accepted it. Not at first, obviously. A person his age would have been crushed to realize their entire life's effort would soon be for nothing. But he grew to forget about it, even respect it in a way. If it really benefited everyone but him, then why should he complain? He was nobody special, not like anyone would care. It was a step forwards, and Marvin agreed to move with the times. He didn't like it, but it was better than being crushed under the wheel of time.
Marvin never really knew how to fight for himself. He was ubothered by change, even when it hurt him. Solid as a rock, unresponsive to his surroundings. Always finding a way to wrap up his emotions and go wherever the tides took him. Why would he allow something non-sapient like a machine get on his nerves, anyways? Might as well argue with a brick wall. So, he buried that hatchet and carried on with his life, free of any hatred towards the mechanical. As any normal, logically minded man like him should...
...
Or so he told himself...
About one and a half hour later, Nial also returned to the flat from work. Unlike Marvin, Nial didn't collapse onto the nearest soft object as soon as he took the key out of the lock. And for a good reason. Nial was one of the lucky few people who's skills still mattered in 2052. He was a pharmacist, and a pretty good one at that.
See, the automatons might have been faster and much easier to manage than a human, but they were also very prone to accidents; accidents a trained proffesional wouldn't be caught dead making. And since it was much easier - and much cheaper - to blame a human for messing up the job, some human jobs stayed. Pharmacists did too, because the old men in charge of the world preferred their medicine not distributed by an uncertain text-spamming software.
Nial set the house keys down on the kitchen counter and looked at Marvin, who was still lying exhausted on the couch, looking at the TV, his hand suspended in the air holding the remote, with his back turned against Nial.
"Hey man.", said Nial, "You had a rough day?"
"Every day.", Marvin answered jokingly.
Nial chuckled a bit, but said nothing back. It would be best to give him some peace.
He went to the fridge, pulled out an open can of tuna and grabbed a fork from the kitchen cabinet. Then sat down on one of the four shoddy stools in the apartment. Easy to prepare canned food was their breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Although it was mostly quiet, Nial swore he could hear a few faint grunts escape Marvin's lips as he impatiently flickered through the TV channels; barely catching glimpses of their content.
He shrugged it off at first. He's just searching for something specific. But as the grunts became more frequent, he couldn't help but ask:
"You good?"
Marvin didn't respond at first, but he tried to assure Nial, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?", he persisted, "Nothing bad happened at work or anything?"
"You know I don't bother myself with that.", Nial knew it probably wasn't work related. Marvin was the type of guy who wouldn't tell you he got fired. Yet still, he kept asking:
"Then what's gotten you so bothered?"
"It's a personal thing. You wouldn't get it.", Marvin was slightly irritated, raising his voice as he spoke. The television flashed with brief, intangible images.
Nial mesmerizingly stared at the flickering screen, then jokingly remarked, "Nothing good on today?"
Marvin furrowed his brow and refused to anwser. The channel surfing accelerated.
Nial continued to stare in grave interest, still unsure about his friend's current state, "Look Marv. I'm just saying, you're acting kind of off today."
Marvin halted his aggrevated screen shifting to whip his head around to Nial.
"Can you lay it off me for a bit, man? You don't see me ever poking you around when I drag you out of bed-"
"Alright, alright, relax. I won't ask..."
Nial stared back at him as he turned his head back to the TV. He hesitated to continue questioning him further on the topic.
"Can we at least watch something?"
Marvin's expression froze over. He let out a deep sigh and dropped his air bound arm, "We don't have anything to watch anymore."
"What's that suppost to mean?"
"Just come and look."
Nial stood up from his stool and dragged it closer to the television. Peering at the outdated screen's contents, he saw a fully gray field, with three dots lined up in it's center. A dead channel. He looked back at Marvin, who was lost in the TV's etherial glow. He spoke in a voice full of regret:
"They cut the human-only program today. It's not worth the effort, they say..."
Silence fell over the room once more.
Marvin was fully on board with the idea of artificial intelligence aiding mankind's never-ending need for work-force. Even if it was at the cost of all the workers who's financial needs were never considered. And if someone was indeed using AI to intrude on his privacy from time to time, then so be it. He has nothing to hide!
What Marvin could never understand was the idea of machines replicating the social and cultural aspects of society. For a machine to make art or media. Or for a machine to simulate emotions and human interaction. Best case scenario, untold trillions of cash are burnt to replace something that didn't need replacing anyways. All so some asocial no-life could have an AI girlfriend. Worst case scenario, the machines realize how much dumber we are to them.
And yet, as the years went by, AI's grasp on everday life became the norm. Be it jobs, basic social needs, or even media.
People all around the world could now tune into various radio, television and web channels personalized entirely to them. Making brand new songs, shows, movies, games, books and more, just for you specifically, at the press of a button, for over 20 years now.
You don't have to imagine how quickly all this newmade content became repetitive and stale, ever since the beggining. But it was cheap and fast. Minimalist. And in the grand new 50's, minimalism was everything. Minimalist, easy to churn out housing, food, clothes and entertainment. Someone born 50 years ago would go insane from the boredom.
There were people standing against it, of course. Though few made any progress. Any effort to archive traditional human arts were frowned laughed at. Why would someone put countless hours of passion into something that can be made in mere seconds, right? And indeed, a lot of people held that viewpoint. And they were the minority. Though nobody knew that. The majority who yearned for genuine human art made with passion and soul were to afraid to speak out. How petty would it be to have the audacity to complain about what you're going to watch when there's food to be put on the table?
Unaware to the fact that so many others felt the same. Unaware how the food for their mind and soul was just as important as the one for their bodies.
And Marvin too was non the wiser. He wanted to speak out, but he didn't believe anyone would care.
Marvin and Nial sat petrified in their seats, not uttering a word to each other. Then Nial straightened his posture and turned to his, unbeknownst to him, gloomy friend:
"Well?"
Marvin's eyes lit up, "Well? What?"
"I mean, you could always just go online and download something, right? I don't really see why-"
But Marvin interrupted him before he could finish, "It's not about the channel..."
"What is it then?"
Marvin hesitated, thinking through about his next words. He sighed, it's better to just let it out once and for all. Surely of all the people in the world, his best friend would understand him the most? So, he turned to Nial, averting his gaze slightly to the inactive TV screen, before regaining his composure:
"I never really expressed my true opinion on this whole AI boom since it begun and turned our lives into... Well, this, you know? I never really wanted to either way. It's a good thing. It helps out in previously unimaginable ways. And I respect it for that. It's here to stay either way, no matter what we say or think...
But I don't like the way we're using it, Nial.
I feel like we've made a mistake. We took the wrong direction and screwed this thing into every single aspect of our society. The channel is just one small example. Think back to all those job opportunities, our culture and entertainment...
And our relationships, too! Do you remember... Larry? Larry Webton, was it? From across the hall. He has an AI girfriend, Nial. The real thing, with a stiff metallic body made to look like one of those Japanese idols. He even takes her everywhere you'd go with a real girl: dinner, clubs... Family gatherings! It's so surreal to me. But it's completely normal by modern standards. Wild, isn't it?"
Nial's expression didn't flinch a muscle.
"Look, my point is that...
I've been trying to act oblivious to what's happening around us for so long; and now I feel like I've spent half of my life gaslighting myself to think this is fine.
But it's not! and now it's too late to go back! And I'm afraid, Nial. Really afraid!
I'm afraid people are going to lose the few jobs they still have. That they're going to end up penniless and hungry on the steet. And us two along with them!
I'm afraid our culture is eating itself. That people will get used to this practical, corner-cutting replacement content. That true art and passion will lose it's value!
I'm afraid for people like Larry. Who are lonely and desperate. Trying to escape a sad reality, seeking comfort in an object that doesn't care about them.
I'm afraid that people will become more and more secluded. Isolated, with only an artificial 'friend' to keep them company!
That I'm going to be the only one who doesn't like any of that!
That I'll be old, past my prime, and out of touch.
That I'll be left all alone.
I don't want to be alone, Nial..."
Marvin curled up, crossed his arms and buried his face in his sleeves. His once stagnant, careless expression fell apart to reveal his actual emotions.
It was the first time Nial saw him like this. Marvin was always the more reasonable and logical of the two. And it's why Nial never dared to speak up either. If Marvin was unbothered, it was probably nothing.
But he did care. And perhapse it was about the time Nial recognized his reclusiveness for what it really was. And it was about time Nial steped up and helped his friend.
He walked up to Marvin and lightly put a hand on his shoulder.
"You know, Marv... There's this party down in the lobby for all the building's tenants this weekend. It's nothing much, really, just a little gathering with some food and drinks.
I was actually thinking of skipping it to go out with my girlfriend, but..."
Marvin lifted his head up.
"Look, Marvin. You always took care of things around here. And I appreciate it.
But you have to get out there, man! You can't keep locking yourself up here and waisting your days in self doubt. You have to go out! Meet people with simmilar ideas! Get a bit more familiar with the neighbours."
"I don't know, Nial... You really think so?"
"There's nothing to be afraid of, man.
I know it might be a bit scary, at first. But you can't keep convincing yourself that everything is alright as it is. Things aren't perfect, and almost everyone thinks that.
I'll be there with you. And you'll see things haven't changed as much as you lead yourself to believe.
Besides, a bit of socialization couldn't hurt for you."
Marvin turned his head to the floor, lost in thought.
"I... I'll consider it."
Nial stood up and walked over to the door of his bedroom. He opened the door, looking at Marvin one last time.
"Just make up your mind by tommorow, alright?"
"I will."
"Stay safe, Marv..."
The door slammed shut, and Marvin was left in his crammed, gray apartment. Alone with his thoughts
It was a nice, somewhat warm Saturday night. The lobby of the apartment megacomplex was filled with various tables, stands full of drinks, and of course, people. Placed in the very center of the building, surrounded by four giant gray support pillars. Though these sorts of events were held anually, it was Marvin's first time there. Seated at a small table, next to Nial and two of his acquaintances. Admiring every corner of the place.
He spent about half his life living in that building, yet it's the first time he's ever seen it this busy. It was different from the usual dead void of grayscale corridors and balconies he was used to. Now full of people from all across the complex, of which he knew only two or three, mostly from passing.
And a huge weight was raised from Marvin's shoulders that day. All that paranoia, fear and anxiety he accumulated over the years vanished. He realized something he should have decades ago. He realized how wrong he's been, how much he's missed out spending his days in doubt. How warm and welcoming his community has always been. That no machine, regardless of how advanced, could ever replicate this unique feeling.
He realized that, no matter how much our society might change every day, that humanity will always stay the same as it's always been:
Irreplacable.
Nial intruded in his train of self-assurance, tugging him by the shoulder and pointing at the numbersome crowd:
"Hey, look over there."
It was Larry. Larry Webton. without his misses Webton, who was presumably recharging back at home. And yet he wasn't alone. He was with a woman, somewhere around his age. They were standing by the drinks stand, leaned onto a nearby table and having a deep, undisturbed conversation about some unknown topic. Excitedly exchanging words all night long.
It was just another plain, long day in the year 2052, uremarkable as any other.
But only to some.