Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 2

Eric stood outside of his office, disbelief having locked him in place. With his feet firmly frozen, he stared at his new robot client, a client who patiently waited for him to initiate conversation. This didn't occur.

After a tentative handshake, Eric simply eyed the machine, unsure how to proceed. All the while, Arvin eyed him right back.

Eric shook off his stupor, then smiled at the absurdity of his mistake. Arvin wasn't his real client, but his real client's servant.

Eric cranked his neck around. Nothing. Other than the lobby's beige-colored walls, empty chairs positioned along them, and multiple closed doors, its only occupants were a man and machine. Nonetheless, Eric held fast to his notion, then after looking back, he decided to have the bot verify it. "Are you... are you... "

"Am I your therapy client?"

"Yeah."

"Why, yes, Dr. Roberts. I am."

Eric didn't budge. He merely shifted the mistake to having originated from someone else. "I'm sorry, but there's some sort of mix up. I don't... well, we don't provide services to..."

"Non-humans?"

"Yeah."

Arvin maintained eye contact while scanning the Internet. He searched for Sunrise's historical record, and found no account of computer-based systems utilizing their services. However, he likewise found no regulations prohibiting them from doing so. "My apologies, but I'm afraid I do not understand. Does our meeting together violate professional therapeutic protocol?"

Why does he speak with a British accent? "Wait, what? No. It doesn't violate protocol, it's just that," Eric paused to think, "we only provide services to members of the local community."

There. End this with a technicality.

"Well," Arvin responded, "as it happens, I am a member of the local community. I currently work for Vale family who reside not far from here, and prior to employment, they registered me as a temporary work citizen. This occurred roughly two years ago."

Eric found the Vale name familiar, but this wasn't the time to place it. "Look, I'm sure that's accurate, but all the same, I'll need to clear this with my supervisor."

"Would your supervisor be Dr. Otis Wright? Dr. Wright authorized me for therapy yesterday evening."

Eric drew in air. He dreaded working with Arvin, but if Dr. Wright cleared him for therapy, and even scheduled his first meeting, this effectively removed any recourse from the matter. "Well, what's wrong with you?"

That verified Arvin's suspicions. This human hated machines with a biological passion.

The moment Eric registered a robot, Arvin's sensors detected resentment. However, Aren postponed concluding this until gathering more data. He now possessed this data, and in unimaginable detail.

Unbeknown to most, bots like Arvin could read humans with unparalleled depth. And as his sensors kept registering weakly hidden indignation, he grew displeased over the groundless ire. Externally, however, his face remained soft.

"Dr. Roberts," Arvin replied, "are we engaging in the therapeutic process now?"

Eric looked to the side, bit his lip, and then turned back. While in no mood for cooperation, he needed to make a half-hearted attempt at counseling, if only to keep his job. "We're not engaging in therapy yet. Let's go to my office."