Hello

Rodney looked at the message on his computer screen. "Happy birthday from SULLIVAN I.T. and all your colleagues here. Enjoy your paid day off!"

Rodney was turning fifty today, and he suddenly had a realization. He had not spoken to another human in a decade.

He remembered the day ten years ago at his model train club. Most of the members were there. However, Rodney suspected they were there more because it was about to shut down due to lack of interest and funding than because they cared about his birthday.

Then the pandemic came, and suddenly people worked from home and had little contact with each other. As the virus spread, all jobs that could be automated were. People got all their needs delivered, and the introduction of driverless vehicles was rapidly fast-tracked. Eventually, the pandemic passed, but people's habits had changed. Companies had learned that they didn't need to pay millions of dollars on office space when their employees could continually work from home. And a simple webcam made sure they had supervision.

Rodney's doorbell rang, which rarely happened, and Rodney first felt a minor concern. He opened his door in time to see a small cart disappearing down the hallway. On the floor outside his door is an envelope. Rodney picked it up and opened it while still standing in his doorway. It is postmarked in the United Kingdom. Rodney opens the envelope and reads his birthday card from his parents as he quietly wept. He had not seen them for over twenty years. And the UK was still in lockdown.

Rodney suddenly made a decision. Today, he would sit down and have a conversation face-to-face with another person. After a shower and shave, he was ready.

His first stop was the building occupied by his employer; it was a twenty-story office block. SULLIVAN I.T. occupied the top three floors.

At street level, there was a bakery. Rodney decided he would take a cake to his colleagues. He pushed on the door, but it was locked. A button on the side said, "Please press for service." Rodney pressed.

"Please say in a few words your reason for visiting Fairley's Bakery." Said an automated voice.

"Err… I want to buy a cake, please." Rodney said uncertainly.

After a brief pause, there was a loud click. The door had unlocked. Rodney entered and saw a familiar sight, a long display window with a range of cakes behind it. He began to look at each one, deciding which one to buy. "Hello?" Rodney called when he had decided on the black forest gateau. "Is there anyone here?"

"Please make your selection." Came the automated voice again—this time from a speaker somewhere behind the display cabinet.

A small panel in front of each cake lit up. Rodney touched the button next to the gateau. Now a message appeared. "Do you wish to order anything else?" Rodney selected no. "Payment required." The screen now read.

Rodney held his wrist close to the panel until he heard a reassuring tone and had a flashback to his vaccination. A man in a white coat gave him the vaccine, then produced another device. Rodney showed hesitation. "It's the law." The man in the white coat said. Finally, reluctantly, Rodney was microchipped.

"Payment accepted; please wait for your order." The screen now read.

Rodney could hear movement behind the wall. But it was not sound he would associate with people. Instead, it was mechanical whirring and clunking. A few seconds later, a small panel opened, and there was a cake box. Not sure why, Rodney checked the contents before picking up the box and opening the door to leave. "Thank you for visiting Fairley's Bakery." The now-familiar voice said as he passed through the door.

Outside, Rodney paused and looked up and down the street. He could not see another soul. There was traffic on the road in the form of an occasional driverless car, but he was utterly alone.

It was 10.15 am. Rodney could remember a time when the street would be buzzing with people at this time of the morning. And the coffee shop he was now looking at would have a queue outside. A sign in the window said "Closing down," giving Rodney a flashback to his last day working here. A week before, Rodney was transferred over to a work-from-home position. These positions took effect all over the CBD as governments offered significant incentives for companies to do this. They could see that road and public transport systems were fighting a losing battle as far as moving the workforce in and out of the city each day. He remembered this sign being put up in the coffee shop window on his final day at the office. That was almost fifteen years ago. How quickly things had changed.

Rodney entered the foyer of the main building and entered a lift; a few seconds later, he arrived on the eighteenth floor. He exited the lift and approached a desk. It was a beautiful-looking desk. "Oak," he thought. On it was a sign that read, "Please ring the bell for service."

Rodney pressed the button firmly. A recorded message sounded out.

"Thank you for visiting SULLIVAN I.T. Unfortunately, we are busy right now. Please leave a message and take a seat, and we will have a customer service person with you as soon as possible."

Rodney moved around the desk to the door situated behind it. At the top was a small window. Rodney looked through but could only see empty desks. He tapped on the window, nothing. He returned to the desk and pressed the button. "Hi, it's Rodney Sharpe here; I work here, just came by with a cake for my birthday."

Rodney took a seat next to the chair occupied by the cake box. A minute went by before a small panel, about a meter high, slid open in the wall. A small robot stepped out and walked up to Rodney. "Hello, Rodney. My name is Stephanie. How can I help you this morning?" It said in a pleasant female voice.

It wasn't the first time Rodney had had a conversation with a robot. However, speaking with a robot before did not make him less uncomfortable about the experience. On the contrary, he also felt a wave of anger rise from deep within him. Nevertheless, he had set out to speak to a person today, and to do so, he was going to have to get around a robot! "Hello, Stephanie," Rodney said, forcing himself to be calm. "I am an employee here. I have brought a cake for my colleagues for morning tea. It's my birthday. Could you let me in, please?"

The robot paused for a few seconds before speaking again. "My records show that you are a work-from-home employee. I'm sorry, but there is no requirement for you to be in the office today. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Can I see Matthew Bartell please?" Rodney was now unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. "He is my manager."

There was another brief pause. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Bartell's schedule is full for today. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Can I just see somebody in the office, anyone?"

"I'm sorry, but all office staff now have full schedules for today. If you would like to book an appointment for another day you can do that on the companies' website. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes, you can bugger off!" Rodney exploded, unable to contain himself any longer.

"I'm sorry, Rodney, but I will not tolerate that kind of remark. Goodbye."

The tiny robot turned to go back to the panel from where it had emerged.

Rodney moved quickly. He kicked it in the back, knocking it to the floor. Then, he picked it up by one leg and raised it high above him. "You're not going anywhere, you bitch!" He said, infuriated as he smashed the robot's head down onto the solid oak desk. The tiny robot wasn't designed to withstand such an impact, and it shattered into small pieces, never functioning again.

Rodney stared down at what he had done in disbelief. He had never done anything violent in his life. Yet, fear and dread now consumed him. "I am sure to be caught on a security camera. This situation could cost me my job." Rodney thought. Then a voice came from a speaker in the ceiling.

"Mr. Sharpe, we have called the police. Please be seated until they arrive." It said.

Rodney thought about running but immediately realized that that would be futile. They knew who he was and exactly where he lived. "I will have to face up to what I've done. Besides, I've had no previous record. Surely, I would only get a good behavior bond or something. I will probably even keep my job." He thought, feeling a little calmer. "So, I'll go along with the police and be home tonight."

The speaker spoke again. "A police vehicle is waiting for you outside the main foyer. Please go to it."

Rodney obeyed the instruction, and a few minutes later, he was seated in a driverless police car on his way to police headquarters. Or so he thought. The vehicle had left the city an hour later and was still driving.

"Where are you taking me?" He demanded, not hopeful of an answer. He received none.

Twenty minutes later, the car passed through a security gate. Rodney had never seen this place before. The building they were approaching was a high-security prison. Now Rodney felt fear again. "Why would I be taken to prison? I had vandalized some company property. Surely that would only be a fine."

The car entered the prison and traveled down a long concrete tunnel with a door on each side every couple of meters. Finally, it stopped close beside one of these, and the car door slid open. There was only one place to go. So, Rodney reluctantly entered the cell, and the door slid shut behind him.

Rodney looked around his cell. The walls were cold bare steel and contained a bed, a toilet, and a washbasin. There were two doors. The one he had just entered through and another on the opposite wall. There were no bars, a window, or any means of seeing out. On one wall was a touch screen. On it was a message. "Welcome to Queensland State Prison. Please type questions if you have any."

"Why am I here?" Rodney wondered as he entered.

A minute went by before a reply appeared. The time was 12.10 pm.

"Rodney Sharpe. Following the viewing of video evidence, you have been charged with the murder of an intelligent humanoid under the 'Queensland Artificial Intelligence act of 2032'. Your trial is currently underway."

Rodney was panicked. He typed as quickly as he could. "What do you mean, my trial is underway? I want to see a lawyer; I have a right to a lawyer, don't I?"

The machine replied immediately. "In 2032, under the act mentioned above, a prisoners' right to speak to a defense lawyer was removed if there was overwhelming evidence of the prisoners' guilt. As our current Artificial Intelligence-based judicial system is incapable of making mistakes, this right has been deemed unnecessary. Would you like to read the legislation?"

"No, I want to talk to someone!" Rodney typed.

"Mr. Sharpe, please be assured that you are being represented by the very latest in defense lawyer software. It is working right now to negotiate the lightest possible sentence for you. A Decision will be reached within the next five minutes. You will be notified as soon as the decision has been made. Do you have any further questions?"

Rodney now remembered something that made him feel sick with fear. About two years ago, Queensland reinstated the death penalty. Could this now apply to him? He could barely control his shaking hands enough to type his next question. "What are the possible sentences?"

"The minimum sentence is ten years in prison with a minimum parole period of seven years. The maximum penalty is death." Rodney stared at these words in disbelief. Then before he could say anything else, another message appeared on the screen.

"Mr. Sharpe, your trial is complete. The verdict is guilty. You have been sentenced to life in prison with a minimum time of fifty years before being eligible for parole. A meal and your prison uniform will be delivered to you in the next fifteen minutes. Please place your clothes in the hatch labeled laundry. Queensland State Prison wishes you well and will provide you with the best possible service and care during your time here."

Rodney's first night in prison was a living hell. He lay awake most of the night, wishing he had received the death penalty. "I will die before my sentence is complete." he thought. "I have no friends or family who might visit me. And if I do live to be one hundred, there will be nothing for me outside of this place. I will never see another person again." Rodney looked around the cell. He would have taken his own life that night if he had found a way. Eventually, he fell into a shallow sleep. The uneaten lasagne and salad, lying cold beside him.

Rodney woke to an alarm and the smell of coffee. The hatch that had delivered his dinner and uniforms the night before now contained coffee and two slices of toast with butter and jam. The monitor on the wall displayed a note. "Please enjoy your breakfast, then shower. In 45 minutes, you will be released into an exercise area."

Forty-five minutes later, Rodney stood before his cell door, the one opposite to where he had entered, and waited. Finally, the door slid open, and a voice through an overhead speaker announced, "Please turn right and follow the yellow line." Rodney followed a seemingly endless corridor until he finally came to another steel door that slid open.

On the other side, Rodney saw a beautifully manicured lawn. After a few steps, he walked forward and could see the whole yard. There were other prisoners. Two men were playing a board game, others playing football. And the one that particularly caught Rodney's attention was a man operating a miniature model railway. Rodney walked toward him, and the man raised his head and looked at Rodney. "Hello!" He said.

A broad smile broke out on Rodney's face.

Epilogue

Outside, a driverless bus was pulling into the prison. About twenty people were on board the bus. As they looked at their apparent destination, many of them looked concerned. Almost all of them reached for a phone or tablet. They were searching, messaging, trying to make sense of what was happening. But none could seem to get any reception or internet coverage. They still tried with frustration as the bus drove on. None of them spoke to each other. High above the facility, a tall chimney was belching black smoke.