Where I’m Going

That year the hottest download would be the Where I’m Going app. Almost 2 billion downloads.

The setup of Where I’m Going required answering prompts that could require as much as four hours.

Over 900 variables had to be entered: from your favorite color, to the foods you prefer to eat, to where you work and what you do, to the make and model of your car, to your recent dreams and personal fantasies, to your height and weight, to movies you love or hate, to your vacation plans, to illnesses you’ve suffered, to your personal relationships, to how often you shower… Practically every detail of your past life, your present life, and your future plans was entered into the Where I’m Going app.

The free app then indicated what you’d be doing one year in the future.

For a modest subscription, it indicated what you would do every single day for the next ten years.

For a premium subscription, Where I’m Going would precisely describe your life up until the day you die–and how you would die.

The remarkable app’s accuracy was documented to be over 93 percent. AI had achieved results previously considered unthinkable.

What made the Where I’m Going app especially attractive was how it easily synched with social media posts. That eased the intensive set up. Most life information was already public.

Bob

Bob was an artificial intelligence. Bob owned and managed Life Corporation.

Life Corporation developed the world’s most advanced robots.

When Nana heard how a Life Corporation lifeguard saved her grandchild from drowning at the community pool, she wanted to show her appreciation. So she baked one of her scrumptious apple pies.

A regional Life Corporation facility was located several blocks from her home. Nana walked over with her warm apple pie and looked for a building entrance.

She walked clear around the fenced complex but could see no office or front door. It was like Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, she mused. Not a sign of life. It must be operated by Oompa Loompas.

A gate opened as a truck pulled away from the facility, and Nana dashed through it with her pie. Several trucks were backed up to an immense loading dock.

“Hello?” Nana called at one end of the loading dock. The automated loaders kept at their work.

“You are not authorized,” spoke a voice behind her.

Nana turned.

She faced a tall security guard.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do,” Nana explained. “I’ve brought a gift and I don’t where to go.”

The security guard looked down at the pie in Nana’s hands. “What is that?”

“Oh, it’s an apple pie. Doesn’t it smell heavenly? I made it myself this morning. From scratch. I wanted to give it to all of you because one of your lifeguards saved Ronnie, my grandchild.”

“Is that a delivery?” asked the security guard.

“Well,” Nana laughed, “if you put it that way, I suppose it is!”

“Set it down over here.” The guard pointed to a specific place on the loading dock. “I must ask you to leave now.”

“Oh– Well– Please let whoever’s in charge here know that I’m so very thankful. Ronnie is doing fine. I really don’t know how to thank you enough. Will you let everybody know?”

“I must ask you to leave now.”

What an inhuman place, thought Nana as she left. But she was grateful, nevertheless.

Ten days later the apple pie rested in its place on the loading dock, waiting to be received.

Bob smelled nothing. Nor did Bob mind the flies.