Idempotency Read Online Free
Author: Joshua Wright
ahead, and the two began walking at a brisk pace.
The lobby was a magnificent display of Old World opulence intertwined with New World tech. Exotic marbles created a patchwork of rich colors whose pattern seemed to be driving toward chaos. Virtual assistants, also known as holoPods, stood at various points in the room; holograms of a torso and generic face sat wavering above a round metallic stand. The holoPods were fully interactive, able to answer any question pertaining to the corporation or the facility. The lobby contained four rows of twenty chairs in each row. It appeared roughly a quarter full to Dylan when he arrived. Each person waiting in the lobby did so with their private BUIs engaged, and the holograms bobbed obediently in front of their owners’ faces. Those few guests who had ocular implants did the same within their private vision; their eyes glowed red to denote their “busy” status. Ambient rustles of cloth whispered across the room as people waved their arms in front of their faces, connecting to the world through their floating interfaces.
In the middle of the lobby stood a sculpture carved out of a reddish-hued rock mined from Mars. The sculpture depicted an elderly man in a suit sitting on a park bench. The expression on his face was innocuous. Words were carved into the base of the sculpture, which read EarthwideGamingCorp—Manifesting Martian Memories Since 2099.
As Dylan stared at the impressive stone, his path began to veer and he slammed into a thick man who was walking briskly in the opposite direction. Several people were attracted to the sudden swirl of commotion that broke through the stillness of the lobby. The larger man grumbled something about paying attention as he bent down to pick up a few dropped items—Dylan was unsure if this was directed at him or if the man was berating himself. The man also picked up Dylan’s jacket and tossed it back to him without making eye contact. Dylan began to apologize, but the man was already hurrying away. Dylan caught a glimpse of a blond ponytail swinging behind him.
Shrugging, Dylan glanced back toward his tall host and remarked, “Must’ve been late for the next boat to Mars.” The tall man didn’t laugh.
After Dylan gathered himself, the pair began to walk through rows of chairs toward an arched doorway. On the way, Dylan asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“You may query me with the pronoun ‘Host,’ Mr. Dansby. I’m merely an animated representative of the EGC.”
Dylan’s mouth gaped open and he stated bluntly, “You’re an android ?”
“Yes, Mr. Dansby, though we utilize the term animated representative ,” Host answered. It motioned Dylan through the doorway, which opened into a large indoor garden.
The pair walked on a circular gravel path through the garden. Gravity-defying platforms known as magLifts dotted the garden, ascending and descending around them, carrying passengers to all floors of the building. After passing an unusually large ficus plant, Host motioned Dylan onto a small platform that immediately began to rise after the pair stepped inside. Dylan took in the spectacle and flinched a moment later as a neighboring platform sped uncomfortably close, snapping his attention back to his most recent astonishing technological discovery.
“Who is your manufacturer? I’ve never been unable to identify an android by sight before.” Dylan made no attempt to hide the awe in his tone.
“My manufacturer is the Earthwide Gaming Corporation, more commonly known as EGC,” replied Host.
“When did EGC begin creating androids?”
“They have been supplying various aspects of tech to third-party manufacturers for decades, Mr. Dansby. It wasn’t until two weeks ago, however, that the corporation announced their intention to begin manufacturing their own EGC-branded autonomous and proprietary models.”
“Huh. And for what purpose? What’s the business model? Will they be selling the
The lobby was a magnificent display of Old World opulence intertwined with New World tech. Exotic marbles created a patchwork of rich colors whose pattern seemed to be driving toward chaos. Virtual assistants, also known as holoPods, stood at various points in the room; holograms of a torso and generic face sat wavering above a round metallic stand. The holoPods were fully interactive, able to answer any question pertaining to the corporation or the facility. The lobby contained four rows of twenty chairs in each row. It appeared roughly a quarter full to Dylan when he arrived. Each person waiting in the lobby did so with their private BUIs engaged, and the holograms bobbed obediently in front of their owners’ faces. Those few guests who had ocular implants did the same within their private vision; their eyes glowed red to denote their “busy” status. Ambient rustles of cloth whispered across the room as people waved their arms in front of their faces, connecting to the world through their floating interfaces.
In the middle of the lobby stood a sculpture carved out of a reddish-hued rock mined from Mars. The sculpture depicted an elderly man in a suit sitting on a park bench. The expression on his face was innocuous. Words were carved into the base of the sculpture, which read EarthwideGamingCorp—Manifesting Martian Memories Since 2099.
As Dylan stared at the impressive stone, his path began to veer and he slammed into a thick man who was walking briskly in the opposite direction. Several people were attracted to the sudden swirl of commotion that broke through the stillness of the lobby. The larger man grumbled something about paying attention as he bent down to pick up a few dropped items—Dylan was unsure if this was directed at him or if the man was berating himself. The man also picked up Dylan’s jacket and tossed it back to him without making eye contact. Dylan began to apologize, but the man was already hurrying away. Dylan caught a glimpse of a blond ponytail swinging behind him.
Shrugging, Dylan glanced back toward his tall host and remarked, “Must’ve been late for the next boat to Mars.” The tall man didn’t laugh.
After Dylan gathered himself, the pair began to walk through rows of chairs toward an arched doorway. On the way, Dylan asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“You may query me with the pronoun ‘Host,’ Mr. Dansby. I’m merely an animated representative of the EGC.”
Dylan’s mouth gaped open and he stated bluntly, “You’re an android ?”
“Yes, Mr. Dansby, though we utilize the term animated representative ,” Host answered. It motioned Dylan through the doorway, which opened into a large indoor garden.
The pair walked on a circular gravel path through the garden. Gravity-defying platforms known as magLifts dotted the garden, ascending and descending around them, carrying passengers to all floors of the building. After passing an unusually large ficus plant, Host motioned Dylan onto a small platform that immediately began to rise after the pair stepped inside. Dylan took in the spectacle and flinched a moment later as a neighboring platform sped uncomfortably close, snapping his attention back to his most recent astonishing technological discovery.
“Who is your manufacturer? I’ve never been unable to identify an android by sight before.” Dylan made no attempt to hide the awe in his tone.
“My manufacturer is the Earthwide Gaming Corporation, more commonly known as EGC,” replied Host.
“When did EGC begin creating androids?”
“They have been supplying various aspects of tech to third-party manufacturers for decades, Mr. Dansby. It wasn’t until two weeks ago, however, that the corporation announced their intention to begin manufacturing their own EGC-branded autonomous and proprietary models.”
“Huh. And for what purpose? What’s the business model? Will they be selling the
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