Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 3

"You gotta be shitting me," Eric belted out, arms crossed, his chair leaned back at an irritated angle.

Immediately after, his desk's calling module started laughing.

Normally, Dr. Otis Wright would've taken offense at such insubordination, but when Eric Roberts flashed across his calling module's holo-screen, he expected something along these lines.

Dr. Wright had known Eric for years. In fact, he supervised the eager young upstart when UCLA initially hired him. What's more, their unceremonious ends occurred at roughly the same time, where they formed a bond unique to those who jointly suffered hardship. But Dr. Wright spotted modernity's tendrils approaching, and he proposed that UCLA start a community-based therapy clinic, one he could supervise. They granted his request. Then when he learned of Eric's excision from the neuropsychological ranks, he offered him a position, which Eric quickly accepted.

"So," Dr. Wright said, trying with little success to stifle laughter, "I take it you've met your new client?"

"No shit." With more laughter spewing from his module, Eric bit his lip, and reminded himself to remain deferential.

"Well," Dr. Wright responded, "what are you always saying? It all depends on how you look at it?"

"Yeah, that's my weak attempt to re-contextualize unfortunate circumstances, but in this instance, it won't work."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't have any Goddamn expletives."

Dr. Wright smiled.

"And whose call was this anyway?" Eric followed. "Who decided to provide clinical services to bots?"

"It wasn't mine. It was the heads at UCLA. They think that since bots are showing some real signs of human characteristics–including psychological pathologies it seems–it would be a waste not to investigate further. In a way, I tend to agree."

"And I agree with you. But when considering who will carry out this investigation, why me of all people?"

"Initially, it was just a matter of convenience–the bot's location to Sunrise, Sunrise's location to headquarters, your recent experience in dealing with depressive symptoms. But to be honest, don't you think it'll do you some good?"

Eric had feared this response, a response both reasonable and justified. But frankly, he wasn't in the mood for either, hadn't been in years, and didn't feel like starting now, all of which influenced his response. "You gotta be shitting me."

Dr. Wright smiled once more. "I'm not." With his module silent, he continued. "Look, I'm just as pissed as the next person who watched their hard work evaporate, when some damn machine could do it better and cheaper. But that's reality, and no amount of kicking and screaming will reverse the trend. That's a hard pill to swallow, especially for someone like you, which is why I personally selected you for the gig."

Eric pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Rationally, it makes perfect sense. Intuitively, I wanna drive my head through the wall."

"Coming from you, that makes perfect sense. But this assignment is only a five-day gig, after which your life will return to normal. I just hope that while you're in the trenches, I don't get word that you tried to self-terminate."

Eric grinned. "So you know the bot's story too, huh? Can you believe he said that?"

"I'm telling you, maybe bots were better off without our human characteristics."