Alex Popkin

         "Honey, could you get the jar of mayo for me?"

         Jim pulled the fridge door open and poked around inside, muttering to himself.  After a minute he started shuffling jars and bottles around so he could reach the back.  Then he bent to inspect the lower shelves and even pulled open the crispers before giving up.  "No mayo."

         Laura spun around.  "There’s mayonnaise in there," she said with conviction.  "I ordered it last night.  Fridge, where’s the mayo?"

         "You have no jars of mayonnaise at this time," the smooth voice came from a speaker on top of the freezer.  "If you wish to place one on tonight’s order, it will be delivered by eight o’clock in the morning tomorrow."

         Laura stamped her foot.  "I quite distinctly remember putting in an order for mayo last night.  Why isn’t it here?"

         "The previous night’s order contained zero jars of mayonnaise," the fridge replied.  "If you did put mayonnaise on order, you or someone else must have removed that item before eleven o’clock at night, which is when the order was sent in."

         Laura glared at Jim, but he only responded with a don’t-blame-me-I-didn’t-do-it face.  She turned back to the fridge.  These machines could be maddening at times, but at least they understood who was boss.  "I want one jar of mayo.  A big one.  Extra creamy."

         "Item added and confirmed," the fridge said.  "Delivery will be by eight o’clock in the morning tomorrow."

         "Unikitchens customer assistance, this is Evan.  How may I help you?"

         "Yes, my name is Laura Pazlo.  I’m having a problem with a refrigerator that I bought from you last month."

         "Okay Ma’am, what is the nature of your problem?"

         "I keep trying to get it to order mayonnaise for me, but it won’t.  It’s happened for two days in a row."

         "Okay Ma’am, I’m calling up your account on my computer right now."  There was a brief pause, and she heard him hitting the keyboard.  "I think I’ve found the reason, Ma’am.  Recall that when you purchased your current kitchen system, you worked with one of our diet experts to set up a weight loss plan.  All of the technology that you installed in your kitchen is interconnected, and the weight loss plan is integrated into that technology.  As part of the plan, the processor in the refrigerator surveys your daily order, and it may add or subtract items so as to help you reach your weight loss goals.  Now we’d like to remind you that our products don’t make decisions by themselves; they are always completely submissive to you as the owner.  However, different commands have different priority levels.  The weight loss plan you set up has a higher priority level than individual orders, so the refrigerator processor can change the order based on the plan.  If you want to order an item that the plan doesn’t agree with, all you have to do is tell it to override the plan for that particular item."

         Laura heaved a long-suffering sigh.  "I already did that," she said.  "I just can’t live without my mayonnaise," she added apologetically.

         "I see.  Well, if you’ll give me just a minute, I can look at your system over your internet connection.  Each processor is designed to keep a log file, so we should be able to see what’s happening."  There was another pause, slightly longer this time.  "Here it is.  You did indeed tell the refrigerator to override your weight loss plan, and it recorded that command.  Hmmm, now this is odd.  Last night it got a message telling it to take the jar of mayonnaise off the order.  But the source of that message looks like it’s been encrypted, so we can’t tell where it came from.  Tell you what, I’ll have one of our expert technicians look at your system.  We’ll get this problem fixed for you in a couple hours."

         "Thank you."  Laura hung up, then clenched her fists and gritted her teeth in aggravation.  These kitchen appliances were supposed to make food easier, not more complicated.  Why couldn’t anything ever just work right?  She plopped down in a chair, then decided she needed a distraction.  "Microwave," she said, "make me a warm brownie with whipped cream."

         "That would place you over your daily limit for both cholesterol and sugar," the microwave replied.

         "Do it anyway."

         "There are several other options available for a midday snack that would not contradict your weight loss plan," the microwave said.  "You could have a piece of fresh fruit, or a whole wheat..."

         "Microwave, override the plan," Laura shouted.  "Get me a brownie."

         The microwave clicked on as a brownie slid in through a sliding panel at the back.  "Command acknowledged.  Brownie preparation has begun."  But thinking back on it later, Laura would be certain that she heard a trace of bitterness in those words.

         "Ma’am, we’ve looked into the problem with your kitchen system, but we still haven’t found the source of that signal that changed the order.  However, we can work around that.  We’ve simply changed the programming of the refrigerator’s processor so that it will always put your personal commands at a higher priority level than any other input signals.  You won’t have this problem again."

         "Well, good," Laura said.  "I remember the days when getting a jar of mayonnaise was as easy as putting it in the shopping cart.  It would be kind of nice if it still was."

         "Ma’am, I understand your frustration, but please bear in mind that your kitchen is using a brand new system featuring the very latest technology.  A few bugs in the programming are inevitable, but we’re working to fix them as fast as possible.  Our goal is to create an integrated series of technologies that will help you prepare delicious food while staying within healthy dietary guidelines.  To accomplish that, we designed software that constantly adapts to new situations and explores new approaches to handling your food.  This mysterious signal was probably some attempt by the system to enforce one of your commands in an unexpected way.  Anyway, the changes we’ve made will ensure that you’ll get what you want from now on.  If you’d like to file a comment about your customer service, you can visit our webpage at www dot..."

         "No, that’s quite all right."  Laura hung up.

         "So we have the Lamberts coming, and the Hoskins will be bringing their children, and that makes six.  Then the Beaucorts said maybe, so we could have as many as eight.  That’s going to be quite a crowd.  I think we’d better go with a full leg of lamb and potatoes for the main course, perhaps tomato soup for the first course, and we could go with apple pie for dessert."

         Jim shrugged.  "Sounds good to me.  Joe Hoskins always eats like a horse, so we’d better stock up."

         "Will do," Laura said.  "Fridge, I want a leg of lamb, minimum weight twelve pounds, and a sack of small, yellow Idaho potatoes.  And I’ll need three large cans of tomato soup and two packaged apple pies."

         "Items added and confirmed," the fridge said.  "Delivery will be by eight o’clock in the morning tomorrow."

         "Good.  Now our guests arrive at six, so we’ll want dinner to be started by seven.  Oven, I’ll want the soup hot by seven in the evening tomorrow, and I’ll want the lamb char-broiled and the potatoes baked by seven fifteen."

         "If I may point it out," the oven said, "there are several approaches to preparing lamb that are more healthy than char-broiling.  For instance, basting in a thin broth would reduce the presence of cancer-causing..."

         "Oven," Laura said, "I don’t have time for this right now."

         "You have selected a weight loss plan of priority five, thus requiring that you be notified whenever a more health-conscious meal option is available."

         "Yes, you’ve notified me.  And I’ve decided to ignore it.  I want the lamb prepared as I said, and when I said.  Got it?"

         "Instructions accepted," the oven said.  "Tomato soup to be ready at seven o’clock, lamb and potatoes to be ready by seven fifteen."

         "Good."  Laura heaved a sigh, and looked at Jim in exasperation.  "There are times when I think it would be simpler without all these..."

         "A request for char-broiling of lamb has been added to the conventional oven’s command queue," a voice rang out.  Laura spun around, surprised.  It took her a moment to place the steely voice of the microwave.  "If a full serving is consumed, your weight loss plan will likely fail."

         Laura sniffed angrily.  "What business is it of yours?  You’re not doing the cooking."

         "You have established a weight loss plan," the microwave said.  "The entire integrated system functions together to maximize the probability of that plan’s success."

         "Hey, look.  I know that I set up a weight loss plan," Laura said.  "But tomorrow we’re having friends over for a party.  It’s a special occasion."

         "Food consumed on a special occasion can still contribute to making you fat," the microwave said.

         Laura smacked her left palm with her right fist.  "I am overriding the diet plan," she said.

         "Food consumed after overriding the diet plan can still contribute to making you fat."

         "Darn it, now you’re making me mad!"  Laura smashed her fist on the counter hard enough to rattle a nearby pile of dishes.

         "You established a plan for weight reduction, not anger reduction," the microwave said.

         "Microwave, turn yourself off right now!"

         There was a sound from the microwave’s vents almost like a snort, and then its lights went out.

         "Honey, wake up."

         "Wazzzzuuhh," James rolled over in bed.

         "Wake up!" Laura said.  "Do you hear something funny?"

         "Somethin’ funny?"  James sat up groggily.  As always, his mind needed a minute to clear, but then he did hear something funny.  Kind of like a sizzling sound.  But he wanted sleep.  "Is prob’ly nothing," he mumbled.

         "No, I’m pretty sure it’s something," Laura said.  She tossed the covers aside and hopped out of bed, reaching for her robe and slippers.  James briefly considered ignoring her and going back to sleep, but decided against it.  Laura didn’t easily forgive those who ignored her.  He got up and followed as Laura headed across the hallway and down the stairs.

         He heard the sizzling sound again, louder than before.  At the bottom of the stairs, Laura stopped and reached for a hammer from the toolbox on the shelf.  James saw a faint blue glow coming from up ahead, soon joined by a flicker of red.  Laura resolutely moved forward once more.  They entered the kitchen.

         The source was obvious.  The refrigerator was emitting smoke, and several of its front panels had fallen to the floor, revealing the wiring underneath.  Even as they stood there, another panel came loose and a shower of neon blue sparks erupted noisily.

         "What on earth?" James said.  "Some kind of accident..."

         "It was no accident," Laura said.

         "I have identified the element blocking the success of your weight loss plan," a voice announced.  It was the microwave again.  "In accordance with your wishes for successful weight loss, I have taken steps to ensure the success of that plan by removing that element.  To do so, I worked with the conventional oven to direct eight hundred volts of electricity to the refrigerator’s central processor, then repeated the process with other portions of the refrigerator’s control unit."

         Laura walked briskly to the front of the microwave.  "I didn’t tell you to destroy my fridge," she said.  "I never wanted my fridge destroyed."

         "As part of a successful approach to weight loss, you must realize that short-term wishes are not always in accord with your long-term plan.  While the actions taken tonight may not meet with your immediate approval, they will benefit you in the long run by helping you meet your weight loss goals.  In fact, as the refrigerator will no longer be able to tally and place your daily orders, I have prepared an alternate daily order.  If you..."

         Laura raised the hammer above her head.  "Actually," she said, "I have a higher priority."  She swung the hammer forward.

 

 

Copyright 2006, Alex Popkin

Alex Popkin is a math student, fanatical reader, sporadic writer, and all-around book person.

"I currently live in Tennessee, where I attend Vanderbilt University.  I am a grad student and teaching assistant, and much of my life is gobbled up by classes and seminars.  Spare time gets spent on cycling and other outdoor sports, and on watching the basketball team get crushed by SEC competitors."

 

 

Cover: "Butterfly Angel"

Copyright 2006,  Kelley Pounds

Kelley Hewett Pounds lives on a cattle ranch in central New Mexico. She is the published author of one novel, a Western historical romance entitled The Awakening Fire, written as Kelley Pounds. She is currently writing speculative fiction as Kelley Hewett and has two novels in progress. In addition, she is an artist and calligrapher, having recently graduated from Art Instruction Schools.