11-20-2025, 03:50 PM
Faith never took work down to lunch. It was one of her rules, that it was a moment in her day to breathe. She always sat alone, though, and usually at the same table, where she ate and quietly watched people. Many of her colleagues were faces without identities to her, though it wouldn’t have been hard to find them out had she wanted to – in fact she could have just asked Luma. Rather, in most cases Faith had no connections for which there would be any point learning names. Despite it she knew many of them by their actions and expressions though. Everyone told a story; one they didn’t mean to. One no one else cared to read.
She was aware of an approach in her periphery, but didn’t look round right away; she had no real reason to think he was talking to her when he was using the kind of tone which suggested familiarity.
Dr. Devere, Luma interjected, this is Sage Parker, who is currently interested in pursuing a career with Paragon. You might be interested to know I have recently met his personal AI Assistant. Her name is Sky.
So she did look up, expression neutral but for faint traces of an unsure surprise. Sage Parker was tall, with eyes as eager as a puppy dog, and was looking at her in a way most didn’t: recognition. There were other tables. Plenty of them. But her mother would have rapped her knuckles hard for being so rude, not least when he had been nothing but polite. He was even waiting for her response, so refusal wasn’t really an option, even though it disrupted the harmony of her routine. Sometimes Faith wondered about the strictness of her childhood as it related to the actual world, but the manners were nonetheless ingrained like fine glass under the skin.
Mr. Parker is exceptionally curious, and may indeed be a bother, though certainly not on purpose, Luma continued. Her tone had taken on an unusual level of playfulness. For the building AI, anyway, which was more accustomed to offering menu suggestions and directing lost patrons to the bathroom. He displayed almost immediate signs of withdrawal upon entering the premises, and hacked our wifi password in approximately 972 seconds. He has been testing me, though has found my responses disappointing.
Faith cleared her throat a little, and reached for her glass of water. Luma wouldn’t be talking like that if she didn’t think Mr. Parker would find it amusing in some way – using whatever observations she had already made about him to build an initial profile that would evolve in accuracy the more she interacted. It’s what lumas did: read, mimic, learn. This Luma’s directives were all about assistance, friendliness, and access to useful company information, but she didn’t lack the empathy core which had made LUMA devices so popular over the past few years. She was designed to be liked.
“Thank you, Luma,” she said, almost on rote: she nearly always acknowledged the AI when it spoke. Then, to Sage, she added, “Of course,” indicating in a general way to the table, not a specific chair. She said nothing about him being a bother, or about Sky, which was not to say she wasn’t curious that he’d both read her papers and used them to create his own. It was more that she wasn't sure how to bridge the conversation with anything of value.
She was aware of an approach in her periphery, but didn’t look round right away; she had no real reason to think he was talking to her when he was using the kind of tone which suggested familiarity.
Dr. Devere, Luma interjected, this is Sage Parker, who is currently interested in pursuing a career with Paragon. You might be interested to know I have recently met his personal AI Assistant. Her name is Sky.
So she did look up, expression neutral but for faint traces of an unsure surprise. Sage Parker was tall, with eyes as eager as a puppy dog, and was looking at her in a way most didn’t: recognition. There were other tables. Plenty of them. But her mother would have rapped her knuckles hard for being so rude, not least when he had been nothing but polite. He was even waiting for her response, so refusal wasn’t really an option, even though it disrupted the harmony of her routine. Sometimes Faith wondered about the strictness of her childhood as it related to the actual world, but the manners were nonetheless ingrained like fine glass under the skin.
Mr. Parker is exceptionally curious, and may indeed be a bother, though certainly not on purpose, Luma continued. Her tone had taken on an unusual level of playfulness. For the building AI, anyway, which was more accustomed to offering menu suggestions and directing lost patrons to the bathroom. He displayed almost immediate signs of withdrawal upon entering the premises, and hacked our wifi password in approximately 972 seconds. He has been testing me, though has found my responses disappointing.
Faith cleared her throat a little, and reached for her glass of water. Luma wouldn’t be talking like that if she didn’t think Mr. Parker would find it amusing in some way – using whatever observations she had already made about him to build an initial profile that would evolve in accuracy the more she interacted. It’s what lumas did: read, mimic, learn. This Luma’s directives were all about assistance, friendliness, and access to useful company information, but she didn’t lack the empathy core which had made LUMA devices so popular over the past few years. She was designed to be liked.
“Thank you, Luma,” she said, almost on rote: she nearly always acknowledged the AI when it spoke. Then, to Sage, she added, “Of course,” indicating in a general way to the table, not a specific chair. She said nothing about him being a bother, or about Sky, which was not to say she wasn’t curious that he’d both read her papers and used them to create his own. It was more that she wasn't sure how to bridge the conversation with anything of value.