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Tales of Disruption
Technological Subversiveness

Technological Subversiveness

Marsha Smith, a school teacher, and Mary, her teenage daughter, loaded their horse-drawn wagon with school books and teaching supplies for a journey into town.

"Oh, Momma, I forgot my pencils."

"Go ahead, honey, but be quick. You know it's a long ride."

As Mary entered the house toward her bedroom, she noticed the basement door ajar and heard footsteps. She stepped downstairs, peeked around the corner, and saw a figure that looked like a man limping, but with shiny metallic arms and legs.

He muttered, "Wait, come here ..."

Mary scampered upstairs, slammed the basement door shut, put a chair under the doorknob, and ran to the wagon.

"Momma, Momma! There's a strange-looking man in our basement!"

"Oh no, my mistake." Marsha stood up. "I'll be right back."

As they headed toward town ...

"Momma, who was that?" asked Mary.

"I'm a fool." Marsha sighed. "You weren't ever supposed to see him."

"Oh, come on, Momma, it's too late now." Mary smiled. "I saw him."

"Very well, Mary, but not a word to anyone. If you mention it, they'll take him away, and me too."

"Oh, no!" Mary covered her mouth. "How come?"

"Long ago, I wasn't always a school teacher ... Don't you ever tell anyone, but I was a roboticist."

"A robo ...?" Mary tried to pronounce the word.

"Roboticist." Marsha reiterated.

"What's that?" asked Mary.

"I designed and built robots before your time. They're banned now, and I can get in big trouble if I get caught."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I don't understand ..." Mary frowned.

"Before you were born, we survived using technology—robotics, AI, holocubes, electric vehicles, and so much tech automation and assistance. It was a glorious time when practically no one struggled; a world of post-scarcity almost happened."

"Post ...?" Mary tried pronouncing again.

"Post-scarcity. It means we'd never need things. In our case, the robots were on the verge of serving our every necessity and whim. But there's a much darker side to that picture."

"Oh?" Mary's eyes widened.

"Yes, we came near to what some of my colleagues called the singularity. A breakthrough in artificial intelligence that'd make the robots not only serve us but also think for us as oracles to solve world problems."

"Hmm ..." Mary raised an eyebrow.

"Put simply, Mary—we must keep quiet about all of this. The Neo-Luddites will execute me if I speak fondly of these 'heretical moments' in our history ... Anyways, as we were about to initiate the AGI and its process toward the singularity, everything shut down. And I mean everything. Every advanced electronic gadget in the world stopped working—microcircuits melted."

"Oh my, Momma, that sounds terrible."

"Indeed." Marsha nodded. "Unbeknownst to everyone, one of the NL's more secretive radical factions launched a constellation of LEO satellites with EMPs. Ironically, and might I add hypocritically, they've applied some of the most powerful technology to stop technology.

"They regularly fire off the EMPs to sweep and destroy any advancements. They believe that humanity can only progress in a naturally primitive state. They believe EMPs prevent the worship of 'false technological idols’—that's what they call robotics and AI."

"Oh, so, is that man a ...?"

"Correct, Mary. He's a robot. I've been experimenting with shielding but haven't had any luck. Fortunately, it only takes me a few days to rebuild robots and reprogram them with memory engrams stored on holosheets."

"Why, Momma, what happens? Why make one?"

"Oh darling, I don't think you'd understand how lonely I've been since my husband. Um, your father ... passed away."

"My father ...?"

"Yes, darling, you were just a baby."

"How'd he ...?" Mary appeared sad-faced.

"How did he die?"

Mary nodded.

"Ever since the Neo-Luddites took over the justice system, the mandatory penalty for practicing electrical engineering is execution. They blew up our entire house ... I wasn't at home when it happened. I was running an errand to the store." Marsha wiped her eyes. "They murdered my family ... I had to change my identity."

Mary gasped.

Once Marsha and Mary entered the town, they stopped by a local market.

"Mary, honey, can you please grab a basket? We need some fruit."

"Okay, Mo ... Ma ..."

"Oh, no ... Did I miscalculate the next sweep?"

Store customers and employees stared at Mary's stunned and immobilized body ...

The sheriff stood alongside his deputy at the market entrance, holding a remote EMP trigger device.

"Marsha Smith, or should I say, Jennifer Bowman, you're under arrest for violating laws against technological subversiveness."