Pierce continued the lecture.

“While most people think of quadcopters when you say drones, that’s of course just one popular method of making a flying drone. Most military drones are jets. We have a few models that are basically guided kites. Heck, we even had a model we were testing that was a blimp.” He shook his head, laughing at himself.

“A blimp? What would be the use of a blimp?”

“Networking mostly. A mothership of sorts with solar panels to recharge a fleet of smaller drones, and a system to communicate with them independently of normal methods of control.”

Karen pursed her lips, about to question what he meant by “normal” methods, but Pierce frowned at himself and moved quickly on, cutting off her question before it left her lips.

“There are certainly non flying as well, as I mentioned. Aquatic as well as wheeled or tracked.”

Karen started to raise a hand, trying to backpedal the conversation, but Pierce cut her off again. “Ahh, I know where you’re going. No, we do NOT have self driving vehicles, and we aren’t going to get into that arena at all. Other minds are already working on it, and I don’t have to tell you the potential ethical minefield. I saw that you read ‘STET’ as well.”

That stopped her, derailing her train of thought with a mental screech. “Wait, what? Mr. Hawkins, have you been looking at my social media?”

“You mean I shouldn’t do research on the reporter who is coming to talk to me about my company, as well as get a good soundbite about the police and race relations in our city? See what kind of thoughts she espouses and reflects from others?” He looked her in the eyes, with his own this time, both pupils pointing straight ahead as he cocked his head to one side, a questioning half smirk on his face.

She found herself smiling back and tilting her head to keep parallel to his. “Fair enough Mr. Hawkins, Fair enough. And yes, the kinds of calculations automated vehicles will have to be programmed with are enough to give me nightmares.”

Pierce nodded, and with a twist of his wrist and nod of his head, spun his chair around back towards the door, which slid into the wall at a motion from his hand. “Me too. People say that computers are faster and more logical than people, so letting them make these decisions makes sense.”

He waited in the hallway as the team exited, the cameraman making one last pass at the displays of hardware before taking place in front of the pair, walking backwards as Pierce and Karen began rolling and walking forward again.

“Your tone suggests you disagree?”

“Absolutely. Gigo”

Karen found herself doing a small double take down at Pierce. “Excuse me? Did you just… say giggle? Is that like the people who laugh by saying the word lol?”

At this, Pierce gave a literal giggle for a moment. “No, no. Gigo. G I G O. It means Garbage in, garbage out.”

Karen nodded, “Ah, yes, I’m familiar with the phrase.”

“Basically, computers are as logical as the people that programmed them. There are plenty of academic articles out there detailing the sheer amount of programmed technology that operates on the programmer’s bias. Recognition tools that don’t work correctly for People of Color, scheduling algorithms that are basically an extended trolly problem, so much more. Quite frankly Ms. Larson, I believe that if a robotic cop was programmed by one of these Silicon Valley Tech Bros that laud automation and computers so much… well.”

He paused, both in speech and in motion, his chair stopping with a squeak on the floor. He touched his chest for a moment, just beneath his left breast.

Karen paused, mouth half open, the slowly shut, realizing now was not the time to ask a question. Pierce drew a deep breath, slowly. As his chest swelled, a sudden beeping came from the chair, and a hiss as something under his jacket squeezed him.

“AHH haa. Whoops.” He looked up at Karen. “Sorry about that. I got maudlin, and my chair, well. The injury I took can sometimes cause breathing issues, nerves short circuiting. It thought that I was having an issue breathing, and deflated me like a blueberry.”

“Does that happen often?”

Pierce looked up at her directly, peering past the screens on his glasses. “Getting maudlin, or the chair reminding me to breathe?”

“Both?”

“Well, maudlin, maybe once a month. The chair breathing for me, every few days. As I was saying though, I feel that if a robotic cop had been programmed by some of these people who feel computers think better, well…”

“You wouldn’t be in that chair?”

“Partly right Ms. Larson. It wouldn’t have been a single shot, and I would probably be in the ground as well.” He sighed, and Karen started as a hand put itself reassuringly on his shoulder. She looked over at Robert, having forgotten again that he was there with them.

“Well, we can thank our lucky stars that this is not Detroit, and OCP doesn’t build the cops in our city.”

Pierce put his hand on Robert’s, squeezing for a moment. “Well, if that bone shard was an inch higher, I’d be eating nothing but baby food, so it evens out, right?”

He started rolling forward again, the party moving down the long hallway. In the distance, Karen noted another person passing through a crossroads, cutting perpendicular to them. A moment later, the same person walked from another hallway several feet closer to them. Pierce raised an arm and called out. “Janet!”

The figure looked up from the tablet in her hands but was looking forward, not towards them, and waved back. She started walking faster, vanishing from view, then appearing again, closer, going the opposite direction. Karen blinked several times, and heard her cameraman muttering behind her.

“Oh shit.” Pierce mumbled to himself, glancing at Karen both himself, and with a camera, as she noticed another ceiling mounted blob rotate towards her. “Janet, hold up, don’t…”

He trailed off as she vanished again, and the hallway in front of them suddenly jumped in a sparkle of colors and pixels, centered around a human sized lump that suddenly bent out of reality towards them. There was a thud and muffled swearing as Robert and Pierce both surged forward. Robert reached a hand to the floor, and suddenly the broken hallway seemed to vanish in a blur towards the ceiling, leaving in its place a similar hallway, with Janet sitting on the floor in the middle of it.

Pierce rolled forward and held a hand. Janet looked up at him, and handing him the tablet, grabbed his chair along the armrest, hauling herself up.

Pierce handed the tablet back as she brushed off her labcoat. “You okay Janet?”

She looked up at the line along the ceiling , a large roll of now off white fabric mounted there. “Yes, thank you Pi… Mr. Hawkins.” She caught herself, looking at Karen and her cameraman, and changed names midstream. “That’s the third time I’ve fallen for the roadrunner trick in a month... “