DECEPTION

by James Jandak Wood

For nearly all of the five years I’ve spent imprisoned in this hellhole retirement home, Gene was my caretaker. Now he’s gone.

Retirement home. Death house is more like it.

The day he said goodbye, he gave me a bear hug, turned around and walked out. Haven’t seen him since.

Gene could spin a tall tale, make you laugh, say interesting if sometimes crazy things. Sure, he made mistakes. He is only human, a phrase that in the last few decades has taken on new meaning. I remember one afternoon he gave me a second dose of Surfak, both of us forgetting I had already taken it. I was on the toilet with diarrhea for hours, but Gene kept me entertained by telling bawdy jokes outside the bathroom door.

I want Gene back and I'm gonna get him back, if it's the last thing I do. Oh, I know. That sounds trite. But I'm ninety-two, so there's not a damn trite thing about it.

Enoch, Gene’s replacement, is an android. He’s cold, efficient, nearly infallible and boring as all hell. I was programming the precursors to Enoch at the Alphabet Corporation when Gene was drooling in his crib. Replacing caretakers was our first objective. "Safe, consistent care for the elderly," the company crowed. We knew it was going to be a huge market.

Here's one difference between Enoch and Gene. When Enoch gives me my pills, he doesn't let me touch them. He says, "Mr. Mathison, it's unsanitary for you to touch the pills. I will place them in your mouth.” We call this diversion-deception in the android coding world. The robot is programmed to give you an alternate reason for its behavior. It's getting you to pay attention to one thing, in this case hygiene, when the real motivation is to ensure you don’t pocket the pill. Given the hideous side effects of many of these drugs, the pocket is the best place for them.

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