I’m not sure that there is particularly anything interesting around here, but by a row of holo-booths advertising the new massively multiplayer online game Gunsword Chronicles X, there’s a big curtain covering up a bunch of company exhibits for some reason. I guess it’s a sound barrier to block the noise between the two halves of this section?

Can’t imagine what it’d be, but let’s take a look...

...

...

It takes a second for me to register the fact that I’m an idiot.

You will not believe that I am this much of an idiot, but trust me when I say that, on certain occasions, my deductive reasoning becomes poorer than even Dr. John Watson himself.

Because, for the amount of time it took for me to realize that I had just entered the porn section, you certainly would think that I am an idiot.

Why didn’t I think of that?

Ugh, my face is so red already. There is an anime girl on a poster staring me in the eyes. And, uh, she doesn’t have a top on.

I really didn’t mean to be in here and yeah sorry I’m going to leave now thank you anyway have a nice day I’m backing out and-- Ah wait, I need to search this place too...

Well, I ASSUME that any nefarious technology made to destroy the city of Atlanta wouldn’t be coming from high-tech pornography, but-- Actually, now that I say that out loud, I realize that that could be the easiest way to take over the populace.

So yeah, I do need to stay in the R-18 section.

Yeah, Dreamtech’s helmets were a really good way to sap the marketing data out of millions of unsuspecting consumers and force subliminal advertising down the brains of the unconscious, but just think of what you could do if you applied that to, say, VR sex video games?

Like right here, there’s more holo-booth adult games on display, and, um, booths set up to let you try them out. I’m not going in those, sorry. Eww. But just think about, if you were able to sap up--ahh, wrong verb--if you were able to process all the data from those games, make some customized advertising profile based on the, um, customizable options they choose. Then you could make targeted online ads that feature sexy men or ladies or whatever else that look just like the ones that they are most attracted to. Now THAT’s a way to sell some Bustable Lemons soda. (Emphasis on the ‘bust.’ Hehehe I’m funny.)

There isn’t actually very much interesting on display, of things that I can look at for more than five seconds without getting too embarrassed and turning away. There’s not very many people browsing around here, and it’s making me nervous because now everyone’s going to think I’m actually in here. They’ll think I’m actually in here like... browsing. Ugh, I’m so glad Karina has to work with her dad today.

Here’s one thing I can stare at just fine-- it’s a computer screen automatically typing a bunch of words. It looks like it’s a test for a new robot AI program called “Steamy Machine.” What the heck is this thing making, anyway?

“”How’s this gonna go down?” I asked.

She smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “Like this.”

She slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulder and squatted down. As the dress fell past my ankles, I felt her kiss my inner thigh, and then”

Ahh! No!

...

It’s... it’s an AI that writes smut automatically... based on your preferences.

That’s a dangerous, dangerous tool.

If the creators of this program were here right now, I would give them a peace of my mind, because there is no reason why this world should have such a heinous piece of software that could doom the lives of millions. People would starve to death if this thing came out. There’d be nothing else left to live for. Nothing but smut.

Also, now that I think about it, this could be used in exactly the same way as the Dreamtech helmet or a creepy holo-booth adult game; as long as it secretly uploads its data to some online servers or something like that, the robot analysts can basically control our entire lives based on our, uh, tastes.

If that’s what the Ascendants are all about, then I might not be able to stop them. I might be taken as prey myself.

Okay, with that said, I’m not interested in visiting the rest of this section, where I can very clearly see someone in a skimpily dressed animal mascot suit, and behind them a woodland animal head-shaped VR helmet, so I’m just going to assume that there is no malicious intent behind anything else here. Yep. That’s what I’m going to do. So now I’m going to turn around and--

“Hey, babe.”

“???”

Who-- did someone say something? Oh no, did someone see me in here?

“Babe, turn around.”

“???”

I don’t know if the voice is talking to me, but I turn around, and--

Oh my.

Chrome-plated body, LED eyes, a pink winking eye. This robot... looks almost exactly like R8PR. But, like, a girl. In a few different ways. Like the fact she’s wearing a skimpy bikini. And, uh, some other features.

I have heard of robots like this in the past, but I didn’t know that...

This robot is standing on a platform about two feet up, and looks down on me slightly, as if I’m a consumer and she’s the... product.

“Babe? What’s up?” she--er, it asks. She?

“Um, who are you?” is the only thing I can manage to say. I feel like I’m twelve again and wandered into the TV room where my older sister and all her friends are watching movies on the CRT, and I have to go in there to tell them dinner will be ready in a few minutes. All those invisible giggles... all the embarrassment of being the cute, flustered kid with your sister’s pretty friends staring at you... That feeling is here but amplified by the fact that this robot looks like a stripper.

“My name is X3N5,” she says. “I’m a sex robot.”

“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah you are, I guess.”

“We are in the R-18 section, after all,” X3N5 says. “You must be interested in something around here. Did you find it?”

“No, I was just looking. Not for... I was just here by accident.”

She makes a robotic “hmmm” and then puts a finger up to where her chin would be. “I think you’re a bit tense. Do you like massages?”

I didn’t think my face could get more red than it is right now, but it is. “Hahahaha, ah, no. No thank you.”

“Good, because I’m not allowed to touch anyone,” she says.

I burst out laughing, mostly out of nervousness rather than actual humor. “You robots are crazy,” I mutter. “Even the friggin’ sex robots...”

“It’s a job,” she says.

I almost want the AI revolution to come, because sometimes I feel much closer in spirit to the sardonic, non-sentient robots of the world than the actual flesh-and-blood humans. If you’re sentient, but an idiot, are you truly better than a non-sentient genius?

“You... think it’s just a job?”

“Well, I don’t get paid or anything, but I do get a reward,” she says.”

“You... do?”

“Sex robots get to have fun, too. It’s part of our programming.”

“Oh. Yeah. That sounds like fun.”

The idea of programming a sex robot to enjoy their main task does seem like a pretty good idea so that you feel less like... well, like you’d imagine. But the idea of rearranging circuits in a robo-mind to make the robot happy for doing what is basically slave labor brings some massive ethical and philosophical issues that are so big that I’m just going to ignore them for the rest of my life and never think about this again. Especially since robots are terrible and I take all that stuff about the AI revolution back. Humans rule.

Though this one here’s alright, even if she was designed specifically to be so.

“Okay. I’ve got to go, X3N5, but it was nice meeting you. And stuff.”

“If you ever want to do any more than ‘and stuff,’ well, you know where to find me.” Her LED left eye winks. “Also, I cost about a hundred thousand dollars.”

“Sounds about right.”