rossi | 1. Fear of Falling (Reply)

"...Not everyone agrees, but it's my conclusion that it is possible to make a conscious computer with superhuman levels of intelligence before 2020.' ..."

The baby-faced man with the wire-rimmed glasses and his head shaved to beat male-pattern baldness to the punch paused, then seemed to freeze entirely, mouth hanging open. Another voice, this one melodious and soothing, filled the air:

"We apologise for interrupting your viewing of our featured documentary: Visions of Now: A Look At Historical References to Today's World. The captain informs me that we are on our final approach to Los Angeles Airport. The date is July 3rd, 2052 and the local time is 10:35 in the morning. The temperature is set at a balmy 60 degrees Farenheit. Personalised instructions for deplaning and retrieving luggage are being sent to your ear pieces now and those who are transferring to other flights will find an escortbot waiting at the gate to take you to your next flight. British Consolidated Airways would like to thank you for your patronage and wish you a pleasant stay."

Up in the cockpit, the captain sighed and stretched, flexing his back. "All systems checked for descent?" he asked the co-pilot.

"All checked and green lit, Bob," replied the woman, glancing over at him from the screen in front of her. "Sofie's all ready to land."

Bob snorted. "Pff. At the rate we're going, 'Sofie' isn't going to need us at all. We'll be out of a job, you and I, Monica. Once they get past this whole irrational computer error fear, pilots will be joining factory workers and teachers on the jobless queues."

"If it means faster, safer air travel, why not?" Monica replied mildly. She was a good twenty years younger than Bob and raised on the flexible thinking brand of schooling - change held no fear for her.

"You don't have a family to feed," Bob retorted. "It's easier for you."

"Neither do you, Bob. Goldfish don't count, no matter how many of them you have."

Bob was about to retort when a red light started flashing on his console. "That's odd. Sofie's gaining altitude, not losing it."

"She is?" Monica tapped out a question on the interface in front of her. "She's not responding."

"What do you mean, she's not responding? She's programmed to respond!" Bob's voice rose slightly and Monica winced.

"Take it easy, Bob. You'll upset her and then we'll have to spend the next half hour convincing her you do actually like her. Remember Karachi?"

Bob sighed, but held his tongue. An extra half an hour circling about the city typing apologies for calling the plane a 'jumped up abacus' hadn't been the most enjoyable time spent. Nor had the disciplinary board and the fine for 'abuse of airline equipment'. "Can you figure out what's wrong?"

"Give me a minute." Monica's voice was soft and soothing and above all, calm, which was why she'd been hired as co-pilot. Traditionally known as "computer liasons", it was their jobs to communicate directly with the on-board computer. It required tact, understanding and above all, an even temper even in the face of panic. "Come on Sofie, talk to me..." she murmured, her fingers moving quickly over the interface screen.

After what seemed an enternity, punctuated by soft beeps and lights flashing and the fuel level preliminary warning going off, Monica turned back to Bob. "We've got a problem."

"You're telling me. What's going on?"

"It's Sofie. She's scared."

"Scared. Planes are supposed to be scared. It's the whole point of the emotion software - make them so scared of crashing they do everything they can to avoid it."

"I know. But... it's worked a bit too well in Sofie's case."

"How do you mean?"

"She's so scared of crashing, she doesn't want to even try to land."

Bob opened his mouth and then closed it again. It made sense. Terrible, awful sense. "Can you help her?" he asked eventually.

Monica shook her head. "There's a lot more going on here than I'm qualified to deal with. We're going to need a pro."

"You mean...?

She nodded.

Shortly after, the announcement came through the passengers' ear pieces, this time in Bob's gravelly voice rather than Sofie's soft, musical one. "Apologies for the delay, we've encountered a small technical problem whicih we assure you will be fixed shortly. In the meantime, please enjoy the complimentary drinks and snacks." A pause, and then a slightly embarrassed cough. "And should there be a psychiatrist on board, would you please make yourself known to the stewardbots."