Katie Williams - Tell the Machine Goodnight: A Novel

Apricity (archaic): the feeling of sun on ones skin in the winter

The machine said the man should eat tangerines. It listed two other recommendations as well, so three in total. A modest number, Pearl assured the man as she read out the list that had appeared on the screen before her: one, he should eat tangerines on a regular basis; two, he should work at a desk that received morning light; three, he should amputate the uppermost section of his right index finger.

The manin his early thirties, by Pearls guess, and pinkish around the eyes and nose in the way of white rabbits or ratslifted his right hand before his face with wonder. Up came his left, too, and he used its palm to press experimentally on the top of his right index finger, the finger in question. Is he going to cry? Pearl wondered. Sometimes people cried when they heard their recommendations. The conference room theyd put her in had glass walls, open to the workpods on the other side. There was a switch on the wall to fog the glass, though; Pearl could flick it if the man started to cry.

I know that last one seems a bit out of left field, she said.

Right field, you mean, the manPearl glanced at her list for his name, one Melvin Waxlerjoked, his lips drawing up to reveal overlong front teeth. Rabbitier still. Get it? He waved his hand. Right hand. Right field.

Pearl smiled obligingly, but Mr. Waxler had eyes only for his finger. He pressed its tip once more.

A modest recommendation, Pearl said, compared to some others Ive seen.

Oh sure, I know that, Waxler said. My downstairs neighbor sat for your machine once. It told him to cease all contact with his brother. He pressed on the finger again. He and his brother didnt argue or anything. Had a good relationship actually, or so my neighbor said. Supportive. Brotherly. Pressed it. But he did it. Cut the guy off. Stopped talking to him, full stop. Pressed it. And it worked. He says hes happier now. Says he didnt have a clue his brother was making him unhappy. His twin brother. Identical even. If Im remembering. Clenched the hand into a fist. But it turned out he was. Unhappy, that is. And the machine knew it, too.

The recommendations can seem strange at first, Pearl began her spiel, memorized from the manual, but we must keep in mind the Apricity machine uses a sophisticated metric, taking into account factors of which were not consciously aware. The proof is borne out in the numbers. The Apricity system boasts a nearly one hundred percent approval rating. Ninety-nine point nine seven percent.

And the point three percent? The index finger popped up from Waxlers fist. It just wouldnt stay down.

Aberrations.

Pearl allowed herself a glance at Mr. Waxlers fingertip, which appeared no different from the others on his hand but was its own aberration, according to Apricity. She imagined the fingertip popping off his hand like a cork from a bottle. When Pearl looked up again, she found that Waxlers gaze had shifted from his finger to her face. The two of them shared the small smile of strangers.

You know what? Waxler bent and straightened his finger. Ive never liked it much. This particular finger. It got slammed in a door when I was little, and ever since... His lip drew up, revealing his teeth again, almost a wince.

It pains you?

It doesnt hurt. It just feels... like it doesnt belong.

Pearl tapped a few commands into her screen and read what came back. The surgical procedure carries minimal risk of infection and zero risk of mortality. Recovery time is negligible, a week, no more. And with a copy of your Apricity reportthere, Ive just sent that to you, HR, and your listed physicianyour employer has agreed to cover all relevant costs.

Waxlers lip slid back down. Hm. No reason not to then.

No. No reason.

He thought a moment more. Pearl waited, careful to keep her expression neutral until he nodded the go-ahead. When he did, she tapped in the last command and, with a small burst of satisfaction, crossed his name off her list. Melvin Waxler. Done.

Ive also recommended that your workpod be reassigned to the eastern side of the building, she said, near a window.

Thank you. Thatll be nice.

Pearl finished with the last prompt question, the one that would close the session and inch her closer to her quarterly bonus. Mr. Waxler, would you say that you anticipate Apricitys recommendations will improve your overall life satisfaction? This phrasing was from the updated training manual. The question used to be Will Apricity make you happier? but Legal had decided that the word happier was problematic.

Seems like it could, Waxler said. The finger thing might lower my typing speed. He shrugged. But then theres more to life than typing speed.

So... yes?

Sure. I mean, yes.

Wonderful. Thank you for your time today.

Mr. Waxler rose to go, but then, as if struck by an impulse, he stopped and reached out for the Apricity 480, which sat on the table between them. Pearl had just last week been outfitted with the new model; sleeker than the Apricity 470 and smaller, too, the size of a deck of cards, the machine had fluted edges and a light gray casing that reflected a subtle sheen, like the smoke inside a fortune-tellers ball. Waxlers hand hovered over it.

May I? he said.

At Pearls nod, he tapped the edge of the Apricity with the tip of the finger now scheduled to be amputated inconfirmations from both HR and the doctors office had already arrived on Pearls screena little over two weeks. Was it Pearls imagination or did Mr. Waxler already stand a bit taller, as if an invisible yoke had been lifted from his shoulders? Was the pink around his eyes and nose now matched by a healthy flush to the cheek?