Short story by BW Derge, written in 2024 – A vision of the future where everything has been given to technology managed by artificial intelligence, including the government and its justice system. With everything automated and human contact diminished, who will help those caught in the bureaucratic mess? Explore the horror of a dystopian future that is completely controlled and entirely automated by AI.
A Vision of the Future: Your Automated Death Sentence
The legal secretary, which naturally was a computer powered by artificial intelligence software, registered an inbound signal from the local jailhouse: “Incoming Call: Kim, James – Request for Legal Counsel.” In a few seconds, the AI program concluded that James Kim was not on their client list and the human lawyer for which the bodiless robot worked was not accepting new clients at the time.
“Call: Not Accepted.” And the phoneline was disconnected.
Earlier that day, a middle-aged white woman got into her car and tapped her job’s location on the automobile’s welcome screen. She then pulled out her phone and scrolled through the latest events while the car started itself, backed out, and began to drive away. On the automated highways, people in their cars were shaving, jerking off, sleeping, fucking, eating, getting drunk and doing drugs. Not having to focus on the road had freed the human spirit from the responsibility of their own navigation…
Several moments later, the car calmly announced, “Destination Override. Local Police Department.”
The human woman jerked her neck up, noticing on the map that the route had been switched from her workplace at the plant to the inner-city jailhouse. “What?”
“Destination Override. Local Police Department.”
“Stop the vehicle,” she ordered sternly. This shiny new car had always listened to her every wish before this instance.
“Command override,” the voice repeated. “Local Police Department.”
The doors had been locked and the wheels beneath her were cruising along down the pavement. The early sun was peeking through the sky’s dense fog. “I’ll just have to talk to the cops when I get there,” she said. “There must be some kind of misunderstanding…” She logged into her work’s app on her wristwatch and alerted the digital supervisor that she would be running late this morning.
The self-directed machine did not have a steering wheel, only classic models still had those. It pulled into the jailhouse after about 20 more minutes of driving, into a garage where its doors finally opened to reveal a small enclosed cold space of thick cement. An intercom system’s speaker on the ceiling instructed, “Please step out of the vehicle.”
She abided and pointed at a yellow square on the floor. “Stand here?”
More metallic words instructed, “Please stand on the yellow marker.”
As soon as the soles of her shoes tapped the square, a large metal sheet protruded from the floor to the ceiling, creating a barrier between the woman and her car, which then drove itself away to some undisclosed location after the garage gate reopened.
The tall ceiling above manifested a green laser that scanned the female individual. “Suspect James Kim of Baltimore, subject to the Northern Authority Government Program.”
“I’m not from fucking Baltimore,” she muttered. On the opposite wall from the metal partition, a narrow passageway revealed a skinny steel hallway.
“Please exit to your holding cell while you await your court case. You have been placed in the automated judgement program.”
“What is this about? Can I please talk to a real person? There’s been a mistake.”
“Please exit to your holding cell to await your court case.”
The woman sighed, knowing too well the futility of trying to argue with a bureaucratic autobot, and proceeded to trudge down the hallway.
The holding area was a small five by five foot space. An isolated cement cube containing only a surveillance lens on the unreachable ceiling, a putrid commode, and a slit in the wall from which a tray of food and water could be provided. At one point, a bright fluorescent lightbulb burst into the previously dim cell. “Would you like to request legal assistance?”
“Yes!”
“Do you have a lawyer? If not, defense will be provided by the AI-powered defense bots developed under the license agreement of the Northern Authority Government Program.”
“Yes – the law office of Bart Cohen in the District of Columbus.”
“One moment please.” After what could’ve been a minute tops, the monotone computer generated voice declared, “Call not accepted. Defense will default to the AI-powered defense bots developed…”
“No!” She shouted, “You call them back!”
“Your court case has been assigned. Please be patient as you wait in the sentencing queue.”
There was no clock so Kim could only guess how long it had been when the cage unhinged itself and allowed her to walk into another series of tunnels that led to but another small sterile room, although this one had a large screen behind plexiglass on one of the walls. There was also evidence of past frustration in this area – faint scratch marks on the floor and stains on the wall that could’ve been from spit or blood. Her vision of the future grew bleaker by the second.
“James Moon Kim of Baltimore,” a robotic voice said. “Is being convicted for the first degree murder of Anthony Albert Apple at approximately 22:13 on March 2nd, 2097.”
Kimberly’s face twisted in panic. “Excuse me! I am not James Kim, my name is Kimberly James!”
“Evidence of the crime, subject A, will now play on the screen.”
Kim’s skin got hot while she watched the footage. The video showed an older gentleman walking out of a narcotic dispensary when a younger, larger man of obvious Asian descent emerged from an alley’s shadows and smashed the older person’s head with a brick before stealing whatever they had just purchased and running off.
"That’s not me!”
“Sentence for first degree murder is capital punishment. Please find the exit on your left.”
“No,” Kim stubbornly cried from a scratchy throat swelling with tears. “I need to speak with a goddamn real person! Call my lawyer back!”
Without going into the dirty details, the woman quickly learned why there were scratch marks and bloodstains decorating the room in which she was sentenced to death. Her violently resisting body was forcefully removed by impersonal aluminum claws.
In the jailhouse, which operated as the courthouse and prison complex as well, there was one human employee. His job was to make sure the computers were powered on, receiving enough electricity, and that the mainframe was protected from viruses and cyberterrorists. It was a lazy job, not much had to be done. The only real hassle was before an inmate could be executed, he had to review that it was in fact a person and that they were convicted of a crime. He’ll tell you, “Sometimes you get a cat or something in there and the executing device isn’t really compatible with anything other than primate bodies such as humans.” There were a couple per week and he usually pushed it off until Friday afternoons.
With a sigh, the facility’s lone human operator touched his palm on the fingerprint scanner so the heavy titanium door could slowly rise. His shoes clapped on the concrete surface beneath him. A light illuminated the large empty space. A window separated him from a cage-like area in the center of this building, and then death row sat behind the cage. There was a loud beep followed by a charming feminine disembodied voice echoing, “Good afternoon, Walter. Are you ready to begin?”
“Yeah, let’s do this.”
The first specimen was fed into the container. “Ralph Thompson, age 22,” said the computer.
A muffled cry leaked out of the box’s thick walls - “Hey, wait. There’s been a mistake!”
“I’ve heard it all before,” the employee stated. He pushed a green button on his wristwatch, causing the conveyor belt beneath the criminal’s feet to churn, pushing the poor bastard into a large dark oven from which sound could not escape. “Next.”
The next convicted murderer appeared in the prior’s place. “Lorrie Rodgers, age 49.”
“No, please. You can’t do this!”
“If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” Walter pushed the green button again, causing the moving floor beneath the victim to pull the woman into the kiln. “Done.”
Another soul rolled into the cage from death row. “James Kim, age 37.”
“Another one?” Walter muttered, “Okay, let’s get it over with.”
“I am not James Kim!” The lady shouted. “My name is Kimberly James – there’s been a terrible mistake!”
“Huh.” The facility’s employee chuckled. “Well that’s a new one.” And then he pushed the button and the floor beneath Kim’s screams started to move. Despite her attempts to run against the treadmill, it pulled her into the oven that was still burning from cooking the previous pair of killers. The heat was so intense, there wasn’t much time for the woman to scream…
One of Kimberly’s virtual friends recently noticed her avatar had been inactive for a while in the virtual social reality where humans had long since ditched their need for communal connection. “That’s weird,” she thought.
“I wanted to ask how she was liking her new car…”
Written by BW Derge, All Rights Reserved 2024
© USA
This was a short story composed in 2024 called "A Vision of the Future: Your Automated Death Sentence"
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