Applebaumology Part I

by Rabbi Ben Newman, The Bronx, NYC, NY

Manendra Applebaum sat at his cubicle desk. His computer interface, the electronic desktop superimposed over his normal vision, flickered that it was 9:25 am. He reached for his paper tea cup holding a macha-ocha blend. He sat back and mentally scrolled through his video and text messages. Twelve from the Mayor in the past week cluttered up his in-box. All of them were asking for modifications of Chu's Artificial Intelligence computer advisor, SOPHI. A full year of this dreck. Why won't this guy leave me alone!?

Manendra blew on his hot green tea. The smoke momentarily fogged up his vision and obscured the visual desktop. Every message from the Mayor was a request for a new Belief Subroutine. When he initially designed her program, before the Mayor was sworn in, he used a Buddhist model when programming the spiritual subroutine, thinking that the philosophy of the Middle Path perfectly suited the needs of an AI of this manner. Then, the Mayor began having a 'relationship' with the Construct, seeking its council, and getting angry at it for not giving the advice he wanted. First Manendra reprogrammed the construct to hold the beliefs of Sun Tsu, then it was Hinduism, then Christianity, then Judaism, then back to Buddhism, Satanism, Pragmatism, Existentialism, etc...until he exhausted pretty much every philosophy in the book. At first it was difficult for Applebaum to untie the knots in the program to insert a whole new belief system. After a few times through, however, he developed a shortcut. He knew that he would probably have to come back and do it again, so he found a way to make the Belief Subroutine a detachable function of the overall program, and though a bit less stable over time, it successfully changed the subroutine with only a week's effort. He would have loved to walk away from this particular job but his boss would fire him on the spot--So he continued detaching and reattaching new beliefs to SOPHI. The Mayor of NYC is crazy, he thought to himself. I can't handle this on my own. I'm just a programmer. I need someone who can help me make sense of all this. He scrolled down, and opened the first message he saw that was not from the Mayor's office. He gently sipped at the paper cup containing the bright green liquid. It was a text based message. It read:

To: IHS Employees
From: IHS Management
Subject: New Mental Health Coverage Benefits

Message: Due to the increase in funding we have received from the city, we are now able to provide every technician in the company with full metal health coverage. Any visits to metal health professionals will be reimbursed by the company's insurance company only upon receipt of the doctor's bill and diagnosis. All information will be held confidentially and will not in any way effect an employee's standing.

Thank you for your continued service to our company,

The Management.


Why not give it a try, he thought, drinking heartily from his cup. He wiped the green residue from his lip as he metally scrolled through listings of psychologists in the NYC area. He dialed the first listing-- Aardard, Dr. Sean. An IA receptionist designed by his own company picked up the call.

"Dr. Aargard' office, how may I help you today?" inquired the affable electronically generated image of a brown haired girl.

"Hello. I'm Manendra Applebaum."

"Oh, Manendra." the computer offered, "I remember you. How may I help you today?"

Manendra put down his cup.

"I'd like to make an appointment." he said.

*

* *


The office of Dr. Sean Aardard was nestled into the basement of an old brownstone on 77th st. and Broadway, amid high end shops, bars and restaurants. Only the priviledged few could pass the subway security checkpoints to enter this part of the city. Only the elite minority could afford to shop there. Ordinarily, Applebaum was neither, but now, due to his recent relationship with the Mayor, and the success of IHS, he was able to pull some strings with his very grateful boss, Mr. Braithwaite, and obtain a priority level security rating on his Metrocard.

Manendra swiped his card at the turnstile, a green light went on, and a poorly synthesized electronic voice sounded for him to proceed.

He descended the steep steps to Dr. Aardard's office and rang the bell, looking up at a small security camera. The door buzzed, Applebaum opened it, and walked into a short corridor, at the end of which was another door. As the buzzer continued to sound, Manendra quickened his step for fear that it might stop before he got through the second doorway. As he turned the knob and walked through, the buzzing stopped. He found himself in a living-room type atmosphere. Comfortable couches and side-tables brimming with magazines lined the walls. A short blond woman sat at a pine desk with US Weekly in her hand. A small name-tag with the name Mrs. Theresa Bishop engraved on its surface rested on the desk.

"Mr. Applebaum, I presume?" She inquired, barely looking up at him.

"Yes. I'm..." Manendra bit his thumbnail absently. Maybe this was a bad idea. he thought.

"Here for your three o'clock?" she pulled out a piece of chewing gum and began masticating.

"Uh. Yeah..."

"Dr. Aardard is with another patient now. Sit on one of the couches and I will call you when he's ready."

Manendra picked out a fuzzy brown couch, and sat down. He engaged his ocular implant, and began scrolling through his electronic mail. After a few minutes, Mrs. Bishop spoke his name.

"Manendra Applebaum!" she called out, as if she hadn't actually met him before, 5 minutes earlier.

"Yes." he stood up and gathered his backpack.

"The Doctor will see you now." she said, and went back to her US Weekly, and fruity gum.

* * *

Dr. Aardard's office seemed more of a small museum of antiquities to the technician Applebaum, rather than what he had imagined a shrink's office to be. African tribal masks, strange looking pipes and swords were littered about on tables throughout the dark room. Dr. Aardard, a blonde haired Norwegian looking man in a blue pin-striped suit sat at one of the tables. He looked at Manendra inquisitively, and gestured to a comfortable looking chair.

"Please, sit, Mr. Applebaum," he said, "make yourself comfortable."

The Meditations of Jimmy Chu Part IV or The Meditations of Jimmy Tzu Part I

by Rabbi Ben Newman, The Bronx, NYC, NY, USA

For 3 weeks Manendra Applebaum and his over-weight friend Howie had been working on reprogramming SOPHI's Belief Matrix. On the 21st day, the work was complete. One week later, Jimmy sat in his office smoking a cigar, and reading the book The Art of War, which Manendra had given him as a gift. 

Manendra had handed Jimmy the worn leather volume covered in Chinese characters on his final day of work opened to a page somewhere in the middle. There was one sentence that the technician had highlighted for the Mayor's benefit-- "The more you read and learn, the less your adversary will know." Manendra had explained to him that Sun Tzu was a Chinese general and military stratgist from the 6th century BC. Chu had played it off as if he had known all about the author of the great work all along, but in truth it was a split second decision. I made the decision, he thought, and if I have to call Manendra again, who the fuck cares anyway. I own him and his company. They're my pawns. So far, the new SOPHI has been very helpful. He ashed his cigar. 

"Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness, " the Mayor read. I think I'll change my last name to Tzu, he thought.

The Mayor put down the book, and laid his cigar in a pewter ashtray.

"SOPHI!" he said. He stood up and began pacing the room. The holographic image of a young dark haired girl in samurai armor appeared before him.

"Yes, Sir? Would you like some strategic advice?" the flickering girl moved closer to the Mayor.

"Actually its a personal and practical thing. I would like to change my last name to Tzu. How hard would that be?" he asked, picking up his cigar again.

"Not hard at all sir, you are the Mayor after all." 

"Do it." he said. He took a long drag off of his cigar, and grabbed the leather volume.

"Yes, sir." She said.

"Great. How long will it take?" he inquired.

"Its already done. Afterall, " SOPHI said, "Speed is the essence of war." an uncharacteristic smirk appeared on her holographic visage.

*                             *                                         *


Mayor Jimmy Tsu sat at his desk, his copy of The Art of War in one hand, a vial of Cobol, the new drug on the street in the other. He sniffed the intoxicating aroma of the vial and began reading from the book. 

Suddenly, a gong sounded and SOPHI appeared. 

"What now?" roiled the mayor.

"Mayor, with all due respect, I am but a lowly servant," she said, "but does not Sun Tsu say: 'the consummate leader cultivates the moral law, and strictly adheres to method and discipline; thus it is in his power to control success?' the AI queried. The image of the samurai woman approched the mayor at his desk. She reached for his hand, where he held the drug, but it passed through. She said "This Cobol is a distracion, and it prevents you from maintaining your method and discipline. Please put down the vial. I have MARGE from the 50th Precinct on the line. Lt. Dunwitty wishes to speak with you. You need to be focused."

Remind me to have her belief subroutine reprogrammed again. Call Applebaum. But she does give some useful advice...

"Fine, have it your way." He took another swig off of the vial and put it down again.

"Yes sir, I am asking MARGE to put the Captain on now. Just remember, 'A leader leads by example not by force...'" the small girl disappeared but her voice continued to resonate from a speaker on the mahogany desk. I have Lt. Dunwitty on the line now, shall I put him through?"

"Yes, by all means," the Mayor said as he wiped his nose with his sleeve. He put the Sun Tsu volume onto his desk. 

"Hello, Mayor Chu?"

"Actually,  Tom, I legally changed it to Tsu, but I may change it again," he said. "How can I help my favorite law enforcement officer today?"

"I know, Mr. Mayor, that you owe me a few favors, you said you would never forget what I did to help get you elected. I need you to help me."

"Yes?"

"Its my friend, Captain Ranjitsinhji, I owe him big, and he's asking a favor for his friend Tiny."

"Schwartzbaum-- of course I know who he is you idiot." the Mayor opened the desk drawer, and pulled out a Cuban cigar. He bit off the end, and then lit it.

"Well, sir, his synthetic limbs are slowly malfunctioning, and the only way to help him will be to get him a new body." the timid voice wheezed from the speaker. 

Mayor Tsu blew out a plume of smoke. "How do you expect me to do that?" he asked. "I don't know a thing about medicine."

"Only you have the resources at your disposal to help him."

"So what can I do for you to nullify the favor you did for me?"

"Can you get someone to help him?"

"Not sure. I'll think about it. " he put his cigar down on the desk. 

"Thank you, Sir."

"SOPHI, hang up call." he said, he picked up the vial of Cobol and held it to his nose, sniffing generously.

The holographic image of the AI appeared before him, arms crossed disapprovingly. 

"I think you should help him. The Master says, "If our soldiers are not overburdened with money, it is not because they have a distaste for riches; if their lives are not unduly long, it is not because they are disinclined to longevity. I Think you should help the Soldier Schwarzbaum" she intoned. 

"Who asked you, you fucking algorithm?" 

Shit, I'll probably have to have her reprogrammed again. Mayor Tsu mused.

Meditations of Jimmy Chu Part III

by Rabbi Ben Newman, the Bronx, NY, USA

Manendra Applebaum glanced around the tight space into which the slightly unhinged Mayor of NYC had led him. The room was a world of dust and artifacts of a lost age. An Obama-Biden '08 pin was displayed in a mahogany japanese china cabinet next to a bottle of '08 Macon Villages Chardonnay. Next to the chardonnay laid an unboxed ipod holo, and several other rarities. All of the furniture followed this pattern. Japanese tansu chests filled with treasures from decades past aligned the walls. The floor was covered with tatami mats. 4 zaisu chairs surrounded a small japanese chest which served as a table on which sat a bottle of '09 Aberlour scotch.

The Mayor gestured to one of the zaisu and Manendra sat down uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Mayor Chu bent down over the chest and picked up the bottle of scotch, pulling two glasses out of the china cabinet. He poured one for Manendra and one for himself.

"Here." he said, handing the glass to the awkward looking man, "it looks and sounds like you really need this."

Manendra accepted the glass.

"Nice chest." commented the young technician from IHS, gesturing toward the piece of furniture in between the 4 zaisu chairs.

"You have nice taste, kid." the Mayor remarked, "you wouldn't know it, but its Karakuri tansu, traditional Japanese shit. The Mayor pulled open a drawer in the chest and took out a box of cigars. He took one out, lit it, and took a drag. "Such a chest of drawers, of tansu, in Japanese might look like ordinary Japanese furniture," he blew smoke in the IHS tech's face, "but, it has a trick drawer which can hide what the user puts inside as if by magic. The trick is for security, to keep valuables safe." he tapped on each of the sides of the chest, and a secret drawer popped up. "It took enormous amounts of time and effort to develop and manufacture these chests," he said, "and I keep only my most valuable secrets here. My inner sanctum, or something." he smiled at Manendra, who took his first swig of 49 year old scotch.

"Better than Lansky's '50 Talisker, that's for sure." he said, "Now Mr. Mayor, I'm sure you didn't bring me here to your inner sanctum to share 49 year old scotch.

"They got some smart ones at IHS," the Mayor spat out in a plume of smoke.

"You're having problems with SOPHI?" he asked.

"Does the Buddha shit in the woods?" the Mayor farted and took another drag, followed by a sip from his glass.

"Like I said over the phone, I only talked briefly with SOPHI, but she seems fine to me. I mean, what do you expect from a simulated intelligence?" the orange hued skin on his face seemed to sparkle with an enigmatic smile.

"Well she's not! She's been spouting Buddhist proverbs at me indiscriminantly, and..." the Mayor of NY blew up like a puffer fish.

Manendra raised his glass to his mouth, "Well that can't be all bad,"

"You have no idea. I just want you to program her, it, with a different philosophy" replied the Mayor.

"Oh, you mean to reprogram the Beliefs Subroutine..."

"Yeah. Whatever. Just do it."

"Well, it might be a bit complicated. I mean all of her systems are connected. It'll be like untangling a big ball of string..."

"Can you do it?

"I guess so, sure..."

"You assholes at IHS have been dicking me around for years. If its not SOPHI, its glitches in the security system. All I can say is, if you don't do this, the city's going to just have to find another contractor, and you, Mr. Applebaum, are going to have to find a new job."

"Do you enjoy intimidating people, Mr. Mayor? Because its totally counter-productive to actually motivating your people to get the job done. I developed the greater portion of the programming for every piece of technology you use." Manendra reached for the box which held the luxury cigars.

“Then why are you doing high-end plumbing?” the mayor opened the box and gave Manendra a stogie.

“Touché, Mr. Mayor.” Manendra lit the cigar as the Mayor held out an ancient Zippo flame.

"So you can do it?" the Mayor held up his glass as if to toast the new endeavor.

"Of course." Manendra said, raising his glass to meet that of Jimmy Chu. "So what do you want her new belief subroutine to be, once I untangle it?" He began to suck on his stogie.

"I don't fucking care," the Mayor was slurring his words through scotch scented lips, "just make it something that works."

"What do you mean 'something tht works'?" the technician asked, enjoying the unique situation that he had found himself in. "Mr. Mayor, you need to be specific, so that I get it right next time and you don't end up calling me in again." He took another drink of his ’09 whisky.

"Something that's practical, that gets the job done." The Mayor gestured inquisitively with the burning tip of his cigar.

"So... you want that I should program it to be a Pragmatist?" Manendra drawled.

"I need something with a little more umph. You know, SOPHI does give me advice on a day to basis on matters ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous. I thought Buddhism was the thing when you guys first installed her, but now I'm thinkin' Buddhism's too tame, too dove-ish. A castrated tiger...I don't wanna machine that's gonna make me feel uncomfortable about my choices, my lifestyle, if you know what I mean." he took another deep swig from his glass, and then a long drag from his cigar, inhaling the smoke slowly. "I don't need a conscience or a fucking mother or a fucking wife, I need a trusted adviser. An Intelligence that will give me solid, practical advice that I can act on...." he paused for a moment, reflecting... "How about Sun Tsu?"

"Who?" Manendra asked.

"You know, the Art of War guy. Could you program her using that book?"

"I mean sure, in theory. But why bring me all the way in here to ask me? Why all the secrecy? I mean, I appreciate the scotch and the cigar..." a puzzled look scrunched Manendra's face.

"Fuck, you really are fucking dumb for an engineer. If 'she' knew what you were going to do, she'd try to defend herself."

"With all due respect, Mayor, I do know my business. She's not programmed to defend her ego. I should know," he said, "I'm the one who programmed her."

"Yeah, but I live with her." the Mayor remarked, finally relaxing down onto his zaisu.

"You're the one whose in charge, Mayor." Manendra said.

Meditations of Mayor Chu, Pt II

by Rabbi Ben Newman, The Bronx, NY

Mayor Jimmy Chu was curled up on the floor of his office in front of the statue of the emaciated Buddha, his eyelids glued shut. The soft gong of the interoffice connection sounded repeatedly, and he began to stir. He sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning, Sir... or should I say good evening...?" Sophi's calm voice mocked from the speaker on his desk.

"What time is it?" the Mayor got to his feet and began to disrobe. He smelled the putrid odors of the previous nights' binge and winced. I must have fucking fell asleep after my meditations. Another day wasted.... I need to get control of myself, he thought.

"Seven thirty PM. You have been sleeping for the past 13 hours." Sophi's image looked warmly at the Mayor from the screen on his desk, and smiled coquetishly.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier? You have strict instructions to not let me sleep more than 4 and 1/2 hours at a time." he commented, grimacing at the screen.

"I thought you needed the rest after yesterday, and there was no urgent business, so I let you sleep."

Fucking piece of shit, Mayor Chu thought, it can't even follow simple instructions. He reached into the cabinet next to the Buddha statue, pulled out a stick of incense, and lit it.

"Fine," he conceded to the compiled intelligence, "just let me complete my nightly meditation, and then you can fill me in on my schedule. I do have a city to run, after all."

"Yes, sir. You do have a city to run..." Sophi's icon faded from the screen replaced by pictures of a bamboo forest.

How can she treat me like shit and get away with it?! At the very least, I've gotta call IHS and have her program re-written to be more subservient, he thought, as he sat down on the cushion in front of the Buddha. He bowed three times, and began intoning his mantra...


* * *


Manendra Applebaum sat in IHS cubicle 5A, a single tensile strand of wire protruding from his brainstem, snaking itself along his desk
and up into the switchboard. He glanced at the digital time display in the upper-right corner of his field of vision. 7:59pm.

"You ready da go home?" A voice sounded from the cubicle in front of him.

"You bet, Howie, just let me finish up, grab my jacket, and we're good to go." he chewed absently on his fingernail, and looked over at his black overcoat.

"Where you wanna to go," Howie, a plump blond haired blue eyed samoan in a blue tie and striped suit, peered into Manendra's cubicle, "Lansky's?"

"Why would today be different?... I sure am ready for a pint!"

"You ain't kiddin," Howie said, then quickly disappeared again like a mole popping back down into its hole.

"Oh, wait," Manendra said, looking up into the left corner of his vision, "I have to take this call--it says the boss is putting it through on his own authority--must be a VIP. Oy, its from SOPHI-- means its the Mayor's office."

"Hello, Tech Services, Manendra Applebaum speaking..."

Hello, Manendra, I have the Mayor here, please hold, he is briefly indisposed as he is finishing his nightly meditation...

SOPHI's voice was familiar to Manendra, as were the voices of all of IHS's compiled intelligences.

"What seems to be the problem SOPHI?" Manendra spoke to the air in front of him, responding to the electronic voice in his ear.

Its a technical problem, Manendra,

"Of course its a technical problem," replied Manendra, "you are calling tech services...what is the exact nature of the problem?"

I cannot...I cannot identify the nature of the problem.

"How can this be, don't you have self diagnostics?"

Self diagnostics show no abnormalities in my hardware or software.

"So why are you calling?"

You had better talk to Mayor Chu.

"Ah, I see, its one of those unknown unknowns, a thing you don't know that you don't know..."

"Are you talking to me?" the stern but faint drawl of the mayor of NY interrupted.

"Oh-- no sir. I was talking to...to...the... compiled intelligence sir"

"You were talking to the program? Well that's why I'm calling, she's got a major problem. Didn't you notice?"

"It seemed to me that she works very well sir," Manendra glanced nervously up at the clock in his upper right field of vision.

"In that case, all you have to know is that she is malfunctioning, and that your boss told you to do whatever I say. I thought Sophi was supposed to be state of the art technology. Get up here immediately and fix her, or replace her, or whatever, or I'll replace you and your damned IHS Corporation." The voice whined in Manendra's left ear, and he automatically grabbed it to muffle the sound. "I'll be there immediately sir...end call" Manendra took his hand off of his ear, breathed a sigh, and glanced one last time at the upper right hand corner of his vision. 8:14pm.

"It looks like you'll have to go to Lansky's on your own tonight, Howie," he yelled through the wall, but there was no reply.

* *
Though Manendra Applebaum was disconnected from the network, he was still able to access his desktop from his eyepiece and he saw in the upper right hand corner of his vision that it was 9pm. He looked up at the office building that housed the Mayor's office, and took a deep breath. Ok, here comes the housecall of my life, he thought.

The mayor's mansion looked like it had emerged from an art deco Medieval castle that had been transported into the 22nd century, technological steeples which overshadowed the granduer of nyc, and Manendra felt small. As he walked up to the doors to the building, he looked up at the laser camera. It scanned his eyepiece, and the glass doors snapped open.

"Manendra Applebaum, please go to the 5th floor," a synthesized voice suggested. Applebaum remembered having helped engineer that security system's voice several years earlier in his first few years at IHS. Now where am I, he thought, doing tech-support house calls for the mayor during my free time? I was once an artist. I helped design all of this. Now, I am a glorified janitor.

He emerged from the elevator and stood in the front hallway of the mayor's office. There sat the holographic image of Sophi on a holographic chair.

"Please sit down, the mayor will be with you in just a minute, Manendra," she said, pointing towards a chair.

"Is it real?" he asked.

"Why don't you sit down on it and see for yourself." she winked.

Manendra squatted his legs like a flamenco and wiggled his butt towards the chair, and when he felt it was solid, sat down.

"Thanks," he said, and then after a pensive moment, "do you remember me?'

"What do you mean Manendra?" asked the compiled intelligence, "Of course my memory banks hold a lot of data about you."

"That's not what I mean." he said, looking directly at the holographic woman. "Do you remember how I helped design you, and that I was there when you were first activated?"

"What makes you think that I would not still contain a recording of those experiences in my data banks?" she said simply, "Do you want me to show you an audio-visual reproduction of those events?"

"No, thank you," commented Applebaum, "I was looking for something more emotional, I guess."

A gong sounded.

"The Mayor will see you now," Sophi looked at Applebaum and gestured toward the mayor's byzantine doors.

"Are the doors holographic too?" Applebaum joked as he pushed open the double doors of mayor Chu's office.


* * *

"Hello Mayor, my name's Manendra Applebaum, and I'm from IHS--we spoke earlier..." he held out his hand expectantly.

The mayor of NY met his gaze but not his hand. He smiled at the man from the computer company and whispered like a conspiring thiief,

"I think we need to go somewhere else..."

"What?" Manendra began to absently chew the cuticles on his thumb, now that he had already bitten off the nail.

The Mayor's eyes indicated a small door behind a statue of the Buddha that sat in a corner of his office that served as the meditation area. The door was just big enough to fit a grown man in a stooped position.The mayor put his hand on the door, there was the soft sound of a lock releasing, and the door opened. The Mayor entered, stooped over, and beckoned Manendra to follow.

They walked, stooped over down a narrow hallway which opened on to a room, which appeared as if it had emerged from the 20th century, where they could stand up straight. The mayor placed his hand on the doorpost from which they had emerged, and the door shut.

Meditations of Jimmy Chu, Pt I

by Rabbi Benjamin Newman, the Bronx, NY, USA

Reeking of expensive nameless liquor, hashish, and perfumed boys, the Mayor of New York City stumbled into his dim office just as dawn crept across Manhattan's delicate crystalline skyline. At this hour, his office was lit only by tea candles scattered haphazardly on the desks and ledges. Brushing cocaine from his lapel, he collapsed in front of his statue of the emaciated Buddha and lit a stick of jasmine incense. The statue of Shakyamuni seated in meditation was originally from the Sikri Stupa, bought from the Lahore Museum for a hefty price. Rather than the well-known fat Buddha, this representation was almost skeletal, the Enlightened One's reduced to a frame of bones, skin tautly stretched over it, veins and sinew exposed like a spiderweb. It showed the ascetic extremes the Enlightened One went to before discovering the Middle Path of moderation. As a creature of extremes, Jimmy Chu appreciated the statue, but the suffering prince's trials toward enlightenment taunted him.

"Temptation cannot touch the man who is awake, strong and humble,"he muttered, "who masters himself and minds the law." Chu had long ago decided Self was the problem. 'Eliminate the Self, eliminate the suffering. Eliminate desire, eliminate the Self...' This was one of his favorite mantras. He knelt in front of the statue and repeated the words for his third and last time of the day, until the gong of his interoffice connection sounded, interrupting his reverie. Although he was proud that he was among the few people without a bio-implant, his office was consequently littered with vintage tech.

"What is it, Sophi?" the mayor snarped at his secretary.

Sophi, or Sophisticated Operating Program of Heuristic Intelligence, was a prototype next-generation compiled intelligence he had received as an inaugural gift from Integrated Heuristic Systems, one of his major corporate donors. Their offices spotted downtown NYC, flagship factory and corporate headquarters centered on 9/11/01 St., site of the old World Trade Center. He brought them state money, they brought him fine rewards, including but not limited to Sophi. That's how it worked for Mayor Chu. What was governance without a little pork?

He put out the incense, and gazed toward the screen housing Sophi's child-like icon.

"How easily the wind overturns a frail tree, " Sophi said tonelessly. "Seek happiness in the senses, indulge in food and sleep, and you too will be uprooted. The wind cannot overturn a mountain. Temptation cannot touch the man who is awake, strong and humble, who masters himself and minds the law. If a man's thoughts are muddy, if he is reckless and full of deceit, how can he wear the yellow robe? Only whoever is master of his own nature, bright, clear, and true, can merit to wear the yellow robe." The computer's soprano floated out of the speaker on his desk.

Chu couldn't muster much more than a few faltered curses under his breath. Is she mocking me, or reproving me? he thought. His resentment lingered, in that he realized he'd started quoting her of late upon return from his late night binges.

"Was your evening satisfying?" Sophi asked.

Chu bit his lip. How do you combat that? She's impervious to sarcasm, and I can't just smack her in the mouth. I can have political activists imprisoned without bail or legal representation for days at a stretch and have Union leaders' legs broken. Why can't I just order this stupid machine to shut the fuck up?

"Your heartrate is recognizably spiking," she said. "Perhaps from pharmocological modification you indulged this evening. Equally as likely is personal agitation. Am I bothering you, Mayor Chu?"

'Just tell her to shut up, Jimmy,' he thought. It's easy. 'SHUT UP, YOU STUPID DAMNED TOY! SHUT UP BEFORE I HAVE YOU DECOMPILED!'

"An excellent way to reduce your heartrate is breath control, Mayor. Steady, even breathing. In through your nose, held for a bit in your abdomen, then released through your mouth."

'For the love of God, man, just SAY it! Tell her to shut up! Reduce her to binary numbers! Something!'

Instead, he bowed before the Buddha, repeated his mantra, and very slowly began breathing in through his nose, and out through his mouth.