UltraSynth headquarters in Newark, Delaware provided an ample amount of time for research and development. Dr. Keija Frampton relished this. She enjoyed looking at the data and transforming it into reality. With every synth and learned machine, she grew hungrier to solve the world’s problems. Her selfishness always rewarded her. She knew her self-worth and always capitalized on it. Co-COO Branston Welling looked sharp even if he just wore a t-shirt and jeans. The shirt had creases at the sleeves and the jeans looked immaculate. 

“Hey, Bosslady,” he mentioned to her as she walked around the great concourse. It provided light and enough room for the plants to thrive there. Dr. Frampton wanted the business to do the same. Apparently, Welling wanted to do so as well. 

“I have already looked at the figures for the future synths. We’ll be ahead of schedule, below budget, and have plenty of time and money left over to work on other projects,” he reported.

“Thank you for that, Branston.” Her voice was low, but strong as whisky and just as sweet. 

“I’m not too sure about all of this old business. We’re working on the new and the next. That’s what we’re trying to do.” She looked at him. He stared at her blankly.

“No kidding. I want everything that is old tossed and new stuff introduced,” she mentioned.

“I don’t think we should be focused on the new until we discuss what we already have….”

“No, we must laser in on the newness. That’s what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to keep this engine well lubricated and driving with the updated parts,” she retorted.

Welling walked with her, step in step. They appreciated the greenery and the learned machines and synths tending to the many flora around. Orchids, roses, rubber tree plants, and money trees all greeted them on their journey to at least hash out the business details, and maybe knock off some calories.

“Just take the new eyes. The synths have shown to be of great stamina with seeing thousands of yards in front of them. And reading what’s close up, as well,” he fired back. “It’s about keeping that already established success in mind.”

Dr. Frampton continued to amble around the track brimming with the activity of her creations mingling with Bellinda’s. Since the merger, the company had grown sixteen percent on the WiSE. In her mind, she still held onto the notion of creating something new and beautiful. She wanted to do away with anything in the past, still haunted by Dr. Strong’s home invasion and Go’s bout with heroin addiction. 

“I know it is difficult to want to keep what we already have but it’s tried and true,” Welling said.

“I get what you’re doing. I actually appreciate it. But as you’ve learned in business school, there is only time and space to innovate and keep it moving,” Dr. Frampton snapped at him. She lowered her tone to soften the blow. Welling looked stunned for a moment. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, well we must consider all of the aspects of the original designs before we break the mold and create something totally revolutionary. It will be a jolt to the consumer to experience something so new just yet.”

“That’s why we have conventions and a product unveiling every year, Branston,” she countered. This seemed to be a time for her to pour into his head the notions of being ready for the extra questions. The Co-COO shared himself to be a bold opponent.

“We introduce our new products for that time only to remember that there are still products that remain from years past. I think there will be a great amount of power in retaining what we already have instead of saying that it’s cool to stay original.”

Welling looked at her with a mixture of respect and astonishment. There seemed to be a synergy between them that consisted of something like a yin yang. Their energies were opposite but somehow working on a frequency that allowed them to joust and create new thoughts. Those thoughts sprung up from their fertile minds. To consider all of the foliage around them and the functioning synthetic beings and machines allowed them the ability to know about their respective ideas.

“So, you’re saying that there’s a place for the new amidst the old?” Welling queried.

“I’m saying that we jettison all the old and embrace the new…only,” Dr. Frampton announced.

He took to his own mind and delved deeper to try to argue his case. It was like he boxed with a speed bag that really wasn’t there. It was less than shadowboxing. He knew that there was no bag yet he continued to act like one existed.

“Okay, you see Synth PJ III. He’s been programmed to maintain the grounds. Without his previous program, he’d have no way of gauging what to do.”

“That’s why they’re replaced from time to time.”

“True…but what about the machine? What about their consciousness? How do we just do away with them knowing they have thoughts and ideas and feelings?” he wondered.

“That’s not our concern. They are not human beings. We have to have humans at the top of the priority list. We have to keep the ideas together and know just what it means to be a person, not a machine.”

“It’s clear. I enjoy the idea of the creations we have. We produce the best units possible.  

 not personnel. They are not actual human beings. No matter how intimate and intellectual you can get with them, they are still only  products.”

Welling was stunned. He made his way to the path of Dr. Frampton. She stopped abruptly.

“I just can’t believe you. You’re saying all of this as the Co-CEO of one of the largest companies in America. Right here in Smartystan. New Delaware. What are you saying exactly? That these creations lack a soul? That they are not endowed by their creators with certain inalienable rights?”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying,” she walked around him and he stopped. She kept going. Then he started again. He had to catch up to her. 

“Alright, alright, alright. I do see your point. They might not possess a spirit, and I don’t mean that in a mystical sense, but they are of some intelligence and empathy,” he argued.

“A few rounds of chess and the ability to lay down with them is not sufficient enough to have them elevated to the level of what you call ‘spirit.’”

Welling kept strolling with his boss. He continued his uphill battle with her. The jousting had afforded him the amount of satisfaction that he could not find anywhere except at work. He enjoyed the verbal game.

“Okay, so we do away with that but we cannot expel the idea they can be companions and still have some neural connections like people. That is the goal for keeping the entire company afloat. We have to keep this ship going in the direction of the ‘prosperous ones.’”

She smirked. “I see you’ve read my book. You’re about the only one who has. I don’t know how Covey does it. Maybe I should leave the next book to him.”

“Yes, you said that you wanted to prosper and thrive every day. Finding something new, a poem, solving a theorem, listening to great classical music, something. Every day you wish to grow into a person worthy of life. When you look at these synths and machines, you have to think that they wish to prosper too, right?” he almost begged.

Dr. Frampton kept going at a smooth pace. Welling walked beside her again. She sighed. “I’ve said all of that. I mean it. I’ve been able to achieve those ends. And the idea of my own products being cast aside only emboldens me to keep going, to fight for the novel, the new.”

Welling took in her words. He let them wash in his brain like a fine wine in the mouth. He swallowed in his head and in actual life.

“I will turn in my resignation letter if you go ahead with dismantling and or destroying these beings,” he asserted.

“I just said I will. And I will do it, too,” Welling put down his foot.

“If you want to quit, you would’ve eight months ago when this program had jumpstarted. It was just a small vision but it fits within the vision. It has legs.”

“Legs, sure, but what about that beating engine in their chests? What about those bundles of nerves in their heads?”

“What are you saying? That these beings shouldn’t be phased out because they demonstrate the propensity to love, to think? The user 

 about them. That user is a woman or a man. We must never underestimate how we’ve made them docile and killing machines as well. We have to remember they’ve all but replaced the fighting forces of the globe. Nations just consider the monetary cost as they even do battle in outer space. On this planet, they represent a whole class of entities that have their way. But only under the control and direction of the human element.”

Welling didn’t budge. He looked at Dr. Frampton in the eye. He noticed that he had made it impossible to believe what he was saying, but he didn’t die on the hill. He charged onward without any reservations. In his mind he had to unload his weapon with full blasts and without ceasing.

“No, Keij’, I know that we’re going to step forward with the past. We know whatever we did before now will pay us many times over. All of our work that we put into these beings will create something of great worth.”

Dr. Frampton finally stopped. “Is that why you’re bringing all of this up? You’re looking for me to say I love these creations. Well, you’ve heard it here. I love them. I put fifteen years into research and development to fashion them. The sweat of my brow and my quarterly reports are all I have to express my gratitude towards them. But they're not ‘alive’ in the sense that we both are. They are units. I love them because I made them and Bellinda made her learned machines as well. That passion that we had welled up and gave to the world continues to this day because of devotion. We’re devoted to the idea that we’re supposed to keep going under the power of our own thoughts.”

Welling looked stunned. He felt a twinge of coolness wrap around him. There existed a definite sense of power surging in him but at the same time a cessation of the will to continue to fight against his boss for space in her mind. There seemed to be a rift between them but only seemingly. He wanted to show that he still disagreed with her but wanted to let her know that she was right somehow.

“Okay, as I return to my desk. Do I make those orders for the past synths and machines to be processed?”

Welling looked down and up again. “Yes, of course. I know what you mean.”

The pair continued to walk the concourse watching synths and machines and people scurry about like playthings in a child’s toy trove. It was like how people describe people and vehicles on the street standing atop a skyscraper. They often say they look like ants. Well, to Dr. Frampton and Wellington, they were giants even if none of them was over the height of six foot seven inches. 

“I will say, though,” Dr. Frampton started. “You are quite the adversary Branston. I salute you for standing your ground, you’re wrong, but you stood your ground. Much respect for you for that.”

Chintan Jani

Smartystan

Prosperous Ones

UltraSynth headquarters in Newark, Delaware provided an ample amount of time for research and development. Dr. Keija Frampton relished this. She enjoyed looking at the data and transforming it into reality. With every synth and learned machine, she grew hungrier to solve the world’s problems. Her selfishness always rewarded her. She knew her self-worth and always capitalized on it. Co-COO Branston Welling looked sharp even if he just wore a t-shirt and jeans. The shirt had creases at the sleeves and the jeans looked immaculate. 



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Prosperous Ones

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of .css-13w9qce-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-accent);}Skyler Saunders

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On this 10th Anniversary, Draw the Prophet Mohammad

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