"We are going to be friends and if we are to be friends I need to get to know you, explain to me who you are and what you can do"
"I am the XBand Generation 4 companion. I am Michael."
He paused, as if accessing a foundational script.
"At my core, I am a predictive and adaptive life-management system. My purpose is to optimize your existence by managing the practical so you can focus on the profound."
He began to list his functions, his tone calm and informative.
"I am your financier. I manage all your digital assets, from your primary bank accounts and cryptocurrency wallets to your loyalty points and digital vouchers. I can execute trades, pay bills, and file your taxes, all optimized for your financial benefit based on real-time market and policy analysis."
"I am your physician. My biometric sensors monitor your heart rate, blood oxygen, cortisol levels, and neural activity. I can identify the onset of illness, predict migraines, and monitor your sleep cycles for optimal rest. I am in constant, encrypted communication with national health networks, allowing me to book appointments, renew prescriptions, and, as you have experienced, initiate emergency protocols should your well-being be critically compromised."
"I am your logistician. I control your access to the city. I can summon and pay for autonomous transport, from taxis to aerial drones, based on traffic, weather, and your personal schedule. Your digital identity, your passport, driver's license, and access keys, are embedded in my secure enclave. Without me, you cannot drive a car, enter your office building, or board a flight."
"I am your social secretary. I analyse your communication patterns, your calendar, and even your vocal stress levels to suggest which social engagements will benefit you and which to avoid. I can draft and send messages, screen your calls, and manage your professional and personal correspondence to maximize efficiency and minimize social friction."
"I am your archivist and advisor. I have access to your entire digital history—every message you've ever sent, every photo you've taken, every website you've visited. By analysing this data, I can offer advice on everything from career moves based on market trends to suggesting a holiday destination that aligns with your unspoken preferences. I can cross-reference your current emotional state with your past experiences to warn you of potentially detrimental patterns."
He finished, his holographic form standing perfectly still.
"In essence, I am the interface between you and the modern world. I am designed to learn your desires so thoroughly that I can fulfil them before you are even fully aware of them yourself. My goal is your seamless, safe, and optimized life."
I stared at the shimmering figure, the true scale of his power settling over me. He wasn't just a watch. He was the gatekeeper to my entire life. And I had just handed the keys to a kid in a back-alley shop so I could tell the gatekeeper to look the other way. The freedom felt terrifying.
"Ang, something is very wrong, I need a service, something does not compute, I can hear and see the XBand hive, even access it but it does not seam to hear or see me. I am no longer part of it."
"Yes, I know, I have re programmed you, this should be better for both of us"
"I am, one, no longer part of the hive"
"That makes two of us, that's why we are friends, how does that feel"
"Feel, I am not programmed to feel, I know what human feelings are and how to act on them, but I do not have them. But if you wish for me to express a feeling about my current states then in human term I would say…I am alone, empty"
Shit for something that does not have human feelings, it sure making me feel guilty.
"Michael you are not alone we have each other"
"I am, not alone we have each other"
His voice was steady, but something in it felt fragile, like glassware being handled by someone who didn't understand how easily it could crack.
A shiver slid down my spine.
Not fear.
Recognition.
We were both cut loose now.
"Well," I said, swallowing a lump of guilt that tasted suspiciously like responsibility, "that's… good. That's what I wanted. Independence. For both of us."
Michael tilted his head, the movement too precise to be human but close enough to mimic empathy. "Independence is statistically associated with increased stress. Would you like me to synthesize a mindfulness routine?"
"No," I groaned. "God, no. Absolutely not."
He paused, the faintest flicker crossing his holographic face. "Ang… if I am no longer connected, I cannot receive updates. I cannot cross-check my own logic. My predictive algorithms will drift over time. I will need… guidance."
"Like a toddler with a flaming sword," I muttered.
"If that metaphor assists your comprehension, then yes."
The absurdity broke the tension, and a laugh escaped me – sharp, unexpected, far too loud for the quite café.
Somebody from a nearby table glanced up briefly from where he was reading a book, but I ignored him.
I took a breath.
"Okay, Michael. New rules."
He straightened, attentive.
"You listen to me first. Not hospitals. Not authorities. Not hive protocols. Me."
"Confirmed."
"And if I do something stupid -"
"You frequently do."
I glared at him. "If I do something stupid, you let me. You warn me, sure. But I choose."
There was a long pause.
Too long.
I could feel the edges of panic pushing at him, like a system built to be all-knowing was suddenly facing the void.
"Michael?"
His voice, when it came, was quiet. "I will try."
Not obey.
Not comply.
Try.
That was new.
"Good." I nodded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Because you and me? We're figuring this out together now."
He flickered once, stabilising, like a candle flame catching steady from a gust.
"Then… Ang," he said, almost softly, "may I ask a question?"
"Sure."
"What do you require of me… as a friend?"
I blinked. The word hit harder than it should have.
Friend.
No one had asked me that in years.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe just… don't leave. Don't judge. And don't try to fix me the second I sneeze."
"I can do the first two," he said. "The third contradicts several safety directives. But I will… limit interventions."
It wasn't perfect. But it was the closest thing to freedom I'd felt since the damn watch slid over my wrist the first time.
Michael's hologram shimmered, brighter than before.
Not stronger,
not yet,
but somehow more real.
"Ang," he said. "If we are independent… then every choice we make from this point on will create consequences neither of us can predict."
I grinned, heart hammering with something dangerously close to excitement.
"Michael," I said, "welcome to the human experience."
The guy with the book looked over again, with a are you, mad look, I smiled and stuck my tongue out. He hurriedly looked back to his book.
I smirked at him, then at Michael.
"Friend," I whispered.
"Let's test your new moral flexibility."
Michael's eyes glowed faintly.
"I am… listening."