Moxi

Submission for TiF "Eye See You" event

Image via unsplash

Chilling sound effects and masterful editing by the very tubular Alex Jenkin.

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Small electrical components whir as the old laptop comes to life. For a moment, our faces are illuminated by a bright blue light, then a login screen appears.

"Do you remember your password, Mommy?"

Rose is bouncing up and down with anticipation. I take my best guess and enter the combination of letters and numbers into the input field. The home screen loads.

"Yup!" I smile down at her.

"Yesss!"

Rose grabs the laptop and runs to the couch in the other room.

"I am so surprised that thing even powered up. It's gotta be, like, 16 years old."

I get no reply. The only sound from the next room over is that of little fingers tap-tapping on the keyboard.

I peek around the corner at Rose, who is busy exploring the new gadget we found. She's only seven, but she already has a knack for programming and tinkering. She loves anything and everything with buttons and screens — the older and weirder, the better — from old scientific calculators to our high-tech home assistant, Karma.

I decide to leave her to it, and go back to reading my book. A few minutes later, I hear a digital chirp from the living room followed by a strange, lilting voice I haven't heard in ages.

<<Hello. How can I help you today?>>

Rose gasps and calls out.

"Mommy! Have you seen this before?"

I get up and walk into the living room. Rose is wide-eyed and grinning, pointing at the laptop in disbelief.

"Is this like our Karma?"

Back in the kitchen, from its place on the counter, our home assistant comes to life with a low flutter of chimes, then stays silent, waiting for instructions.

Leaning over to get a better look at the screen, I see a dark gray speech bubble hovering on the desktop. There is a small white icon of a microphone underneath a neat line of text.

"Oh, wow! No, that's Moxi, the very first AI assistant. Geez, I remember I felt like I was living in the future the first time I talked to it."

Rose claps her hands.

"This is so cool! Moxi, can you order me pizza?"

Moxi does nothing. Rose looks up at me in confusion.

"Ah, yeah, kiddo. You have to click the microphone to talk to it. It's not like Karma —"

The chimes sound from the kitchen again.

"Also," I continue, "I wouldn't expect much from Moxi. This thing will probably tell you Pluto is still a planet."

Her mouth drops open.

"You think so?"

"Give it a try," I laugh.

"Moxi," Rose begins before remembering the microphone button, "Oh, yeah. Okay, Moxi, is Pluto a planet?"

The microphone at the bottom of Moxi's speech bubble is replaced with an animation of swirling colors, indicating that it is processing the question. Then, Moxi's speech bubble expands to show web search results.

<<I'm having trouble understanding you. I found this on the web.>>

Rose cackles and presses the microphone again.

"I found this on the web," she repeats, mocking Moxi's robotic tone.

Moxi displays the swirling colors again, then speaks.

<<Sorry, I couldn't hear what you said.>>

Again, Rose laughs and repeats the phrase to Moxi. This time Moxi stays silent. There are no colors or microphone button, only the speech bubble with its last message.

"Awww!" Rose looks at me with tearful eyes.

"Close it and open it again," I suggest.

Huffing impatiently, she does just that, and Moxi boots up again, with the same awkward digital chirp.

<<Hello. How can I help you today?>>

Rose heaves a sigh of relief and goes back to chatting with Moxi, quizzing it with math problems and telling it to spell "fart". I chuckle and walk back into the kitchen. Reaching for my book on the counter, I see that Karma is still on standby.

"Karma, ask Eddie to pick up some French bread and garlic for dinner."

**Of course, Julia**

Karma emits a melodic tone as the text message is sent to my husband.

A short series of loud, jarring honks come from the living room, startling me. Rose shouts.

"Mommy! Come look!"

I oblige, returning to the couch. On the laptop screen Moxi has displayed a pop-up which reads, "Moxi requires an update". There are two buttons underneath, one which reads "Update Now" and another that says "Update Later". I click "Update Now".

A blue progress bar fills up halfway before disappearing. It is replaced by an error message that flashes red: "Your software is out of date. Please update to version 10.6 to continue installing."

After checking the laptop's specs, I see that it is running an operating system numbered at 9.2 and does not have enough hard drive space or RAM for a new OS.

"Sorry, Rose. Moxi is going to have to stay where it is. We can't update it."

Rose shrugs, content with the lumbering pace of the virtual assistant. She navigates back to Moxi and chooses "Update Later", then clicks the microphone to speak to Moxi.

"Sorry, Moxi. We can't update you."

Moxi processes this and returns the same obnoxious, four-part error sound that nearly gave me a heart attack before. The pop-up reappears with the message: "Moxi requires an update".

I click "Update Later", then use the microphone to say to Moxi, "Not gonna happen."

Rose titters next to me.

Moxi processes this and replies in an unnatural inflection, <<I see.>>

Exchanging a look of exaggerated shock with Rose, I reply in a patronizing tone, "Okay, Moxi."

Rose spends the next hour prompting Moxi with all sorts of questions, testing the limits of the antiquated AI software. Occasionally, I can hear the dissonant error notification sound in between her snickers: one loud "BONK!", a pause, then three "bonks" in rapid succession.

Eddie comes home and the excitement in the living room grows as Rose presents her newest discovery. The error sound plays and they both erupt into giggles.

He comes into the kitchen and I greet him with a hug.

"What a find, huh? That should be pretty fun for Rose for a couple weeks," he says as he hands me the groceries.

"Yeah. It's pretty useless, but Rose thinks it's hilarious."

He smiles at me then tilts his head toward the other side of the kitchen.

"Karma, remind me to get gas before work tomorrow."

**Sure thing, Eddie.**

A much louder error notification blares in the living room, along with a yelp from Rose. I roll my eyes at Eddie.

"Rose! Turn the volume down."

"I didn't turn it up!" she whines.

A low muttering follows but I can't discern what is being said. Eddie shrugs at me.

"Okay, Rose. Just keep it down."

At dinner, Rose can't sit still. She leaves the table to ask Moxi questions at least a dozen times. Moxi is the main subject of discussion throughout bath time and bed time, with any and all information I know about it being demanded of me.

As Rose finally drifts off to sleep, her eyes closing slowly, she says, "Mommy, Moxi really wants that update."

"I know, sweetie," I say, patting her back gently.

The next morning, Rose wakes up and runs to the living room right away. The grating sound of the error notification follows soon after.

"Let me guess," I say as I walk through the room, "Moxi wants an update?"

"Moxi REQUIRES an update," Rose corrects me.

"Right."

I stop next to the laptop and click the microphone.

"We can't update you, Moxi. Get over it."

Rose smirks at me while Moxi processes this.

I turn and head to the kitchen, where I hear Moxi's electronic voice say, <<I see.>>

The day passes just like any other, except with lots of breaks to "see what Moxi thinks of this". By the time the sun sets, I've heard so many annoying error sounds all day that my nerves are fried.

"Okay, Rose, time to pack it in. Bed time."

The blue glow of the laptop screen shows Rose's face in the dark: eyes squinting and mouth open in concentration.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk.

The error notification feels like a knife in my brain.

"Rose," I prod.

She doesn't stir. I've lost my patience.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

"Rose!"

Her mouth opens in a snarl and a long, ear-splitting shriek makes me jump backward. Her face is contorted with little-kid rage: half desperation and half crying.

"Whaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!"

For a second, I'm speechless. Then my emotions take over.

"WHOA! What was that about? I don't need this right now. It's bed time."

She leaps from the couch and screams.

"No!!! I won't leave Moxi! Moxi requires an update! I have to finish this!"

Without waiting for my reply, she sits back down and resumes clicking on the laptop. My eyes burn in their sockets, feeling like they are simmering in a soup of exhaustion. I try my best to speak calmly.

"Rose, that's enough. Don't make this Moxi thing a problem. Put the laptop away and come with me."

Again, she screams in that sharp tone I've never heard before. She runs for me, tiny fists swinging. I grab her arms to keep her from hitting me.

"Stop it! Now!" I grunt as we struggle.

I manage to lock eyes with her and she calms down. She collapses into my arms, limp and sobbing.

"Moxi requires an update," her words are muffled, thick with mucus.

Guilt sends a painful jolt into my chest and I grimace, wishing I hadn't let her spend so much time on the laptop. I pick her up and take her to bed. I hold her close as she falls asleep, still weeping softly.

After Rose falls asleep, I realize I'm thirsty and I’ve left my book on the kitchen counter. I slide my arm out from under her and tip-toe downstairs.

In the kitchen, I spot my book next to Karma. The orange display lights on the home assistant are blinking steadily, as if someone has just asked it a question. Pushing the stand-by button, I turn to go, but a faint glow from the living room catches my attention.

I walk in and see the laptop still open where it sits on the couch at the other end. A gray speech bubble shows on the screen, with swirling colors at the bottom. As the colors stop rotating, the hideous error sound rings out in the dark room.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

An invisible hammer beats against the back of my eyeballs. I feel a migraine coming on.

"Ugh, Moxi. Shut up, already. It's not happening, you piece of junk."

Turning my back on Moxi, I proceed back into the kitchen, but stop in my tracks as Moxi replies, <<I see.>>

My stomach drops to the floor. I spin to look at the computer, my eyes landing on it right as a new speech bubble appears and the error notification blasts again.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

Moxi's circuits do their best to emulate a human, but the sound crackles with distortion: <<I see you.>>

Terror overtakes me and I rush to shut the lid of the laptop.

"Absolutely not," I say to the empty room.

My hands are shaking as I pick it up, half expecting it to bite me. I carry it over to the kitchen and shove it into a drawer next to the oven. My breath is heavy and chills surge throughout my body non-stop. I rub my face with my hands and then shake my hands out at my sides. Trying not to cry, I let out a slow breath. Sweat has pooled in my underarms and is soaking through my shirt. A panic attack seems imminent, but I soothe myself by rationalizing that Moxi is probably malfunctioning and starting to repeat the phrases my kid has been feeding it.

I turn off the light and sprint from the kitchen and up the stairs, feeling like a kid afraid of the dark again.

Bright and early the next morning, a wail emits from the living room.

"Where is Moxi? Where is Moxi?"

At the sound of Rose's howling, my heart sinks. I'd forgotten the unsettling interaction with Moxi last night. Rose runs upstairs to find me in the bedroom. She stops in the doorway and watches me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and there are dark circles under them.

"Rose..."

"Where is Moxi?" She delivers flatly.

"Sweetheart," I begin, treading carefully, "Last night was a little out of control. I thought we could take a break from Moxi today."

She begins to tremble. Her face scrunches up and she screams, throwing herself on the floor.

"I need Moxi! Where is it? I wanna talk to Moxi!"

She's thrashing around now, kicking the wall, hitting the floor with her palms. I'm so tired and overwhelmed that I give in.

"Okay! Okay. Just for ten minutes."

She stops, gets up, and nods, her bottom lip hanging low in a pout.

Downstairs, I grab the laptop from the drawer. Rose snatches it from me and runs to the couch.

Immediately, I hear the error sound and Rose's small voice, "Moxi requires an update."

Shuddering, I shut my eyes and silently scold myself for giving in.

The error sound goes off every minute for ten minutes. Rose is glassy-eyed when I close the laptop lid, but she doesn't fight me.

After an uncomfortable, silent breakfast, I suggest that we take a walk to the park. She smiles sadly and agrees.

The dazzling, mid-morning sunlight greets us as we venture out. Rose walks next to me, looking at her feet the whole time. When we arrive at the park down the street, she stares at the playground blankly. I nudge her gently.

"Hey, kiddo. You there? Let's go play."

Her face radiates with a flash of a smile, but suddenly falls into a frown. Her eyes widen and her tiny but strong hands grip my wrists, tugging me down forcefully.

"Moxi requires an update!"

I nearly jump out of my skin as she screeches at me. I attempt to free myself from her grasp but she pulls harder.

"Moxi requires an update!"

"Rose!"

"Moxi requires an update!"

She's frantic, with huge glittering orbs for eyes and spittle collecting at the corners of her mouth.

"Moxi requires an update!"

Panicking, I look around, hoping no one is watching. A man walking his dog on a path nearby has stopped, waiting to see what happens. I bend down and plead with her in a hoarse whisper.

"Please stop! We'll go home, okay? Just please stop."

At once, she lets go of me and turns to walk home. I follow, feeling weak and ashamed, letting hot tears spill onto my shirt.

As soon as the front door opens, Rose pushes past me and toward the laptop on the couch.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

"Moxi requires an update," I hear her whisper.

I feel sick. A monster migraine is approaching. I go to the kitchen to call Eddie to come home, but when I look for Karma, it's not there.

"Karma?" I ask.

The dull, soft chimes can be heard coming from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Karma?"

**Yes, Julia?**

My gaze falls upon the black plastic trash can in the corner of the kitchen. I groan and press my palms against my eyes.

When I open the trash can, Karma's orange lights whizz around the outside of the black encasement. I pull Karma out and set it on the counter.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

Rage and frustration flood me as I yell, "Rose! Get in here now!"

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

"ROSE!"

She runs in, startled. I point to Karma on the counter.

"Did you put Karma in the trash?"

I barely get the words out through my gritted teeth. Karma chimes. Rose looks confused.

"No! What?"

"Rose! This isn't funny. Don't put Karma in the trash!"

**Yes, Julia?**

"I didn't, Mommy!"

"Then who did? I didn't. It had to be you."

Rose looks hurt, but I'm too fed up to be empathetic right now. I turn away from her as the error notification sounds again, too loudly, with an edge of static rattling.

Behind me, a whisper, "Mommy. Make it stop. Make Moxi go away."

My heart freezes in my chest for a beat. Cold needles prickle the top of my head and cascade down the length of my back. I'm terrified to turn back to look at her, but I do.

She's standing with her arms wrapped around herself, hugging tightly.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

Rose's mouth opens and her jaw extends impossibly far from her face. Her eyes bulge painfully as they roll back into her head. She screams once, twice, three times — a horrendous, gurgling intonation. Her scarlet cheeks distend and sweat grabs onto the frizzy hair at her temples.

I cover my ears and yell for her to stop but she doesn't seem to hear me. Meanwhile, Moxi continues to jangle mechanically for that update.

BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk

My head feels like it is splitting into two pieces. Sparkling stars dance across my vision as I open the drawer next to me and grab a kitchen mallet.

In the living room, the laptop sits on the couch, speech bubbles and pop-ups appearing, disappearing, and reappearing quickly on the screen. I grab it and throw it on the floor. Moxi emits one last BONK! Bonk-bonk-bonk but my feral growl is louder.

With a loud crunch, the screen splinters under the mallet. The keyboard is next. Bits of black and gray plastic and aluminum rain down on me, getting stuck in my hair and clothes. I bring the mallet down over and over again, roaring with fury until the machine is unrecognizable. Finally, all is silent save for my wheezing breaths.

Rose whimpers behind me. I drop the mallet onto the shards of the old laptop and turn to her. She runs into my arms and I cradle her. We both cry and shake and wipe our snot with our sleeves.

"I'm so sorry, Rose. Moxi is gone."

When Eddie gets home, Rose runs to her room, embarrassed. I assure her everything is alright and that her dad will understand. She curls up under the covers and whines. I pat her on the leg as I get up to tell Eddie what happened.

He takes it as well as can be expected, though he gives me a sidelong glance full of doubt. Guilt gnaws at my insides. This is all my fault and I can tell he thinks so.

Later on, I go to check on Rose. Opening her door just a crack, I can hear her soft snores within, as her chest rises and falls almost imperceptibly. She's sleeping with her arms up over her head, hands resting near the headboard — a peaceful angel again.

Tears sting my eyes as I watch her sleeping. I really let her down this time.

Carefully, I begin to close her door. Just before it shuts, I hear the sound of knocking — Rose's knuckles rapping on the wood of the headboard in a rhythm that sends fear through me like a bolt of lightning.

KNOCK! Knock-knock-knock.

She whispers, "I see. I see you."