Mtumishi

We piled into Mo’s car and followed Arya to her house in Old Farms, but we didn’t go in. Instead, Arya had us follow her through the gate to her fenced in back yard.

“Nice place,” I said as she unlocked the gate and we entered the back yard. “Live here alone?”

[There was a modest pool just beyond a patio deck leading from the back door of the house. Across from the pool was a playhouse.  It was one of those that looked like a little house complete with shutters, a little porch and flower boxes under the windows. Between the gate and the play house, to the left of the pool, was a cement pillar with what appeared to be surveillance camera domes on five sides.]

Arya looked back at me and smiled, “Thanks.  I do now. I grew up here.  My parents died when I was about your age — drunk driver. They left this place to my brother and me. He lives near RTP. Back here is where I spent most of my time playing when I was a kid.”

She pointed at the playhouse.

“My parents made a point of keeping it up after I got older and when I went off to MIT. When I moved back in, I added a few features like the sentry.” She pointed at the concrete pole. “And… ” she grinned and said, “open sesame.” The playhouse door opened with the sound of a vacuum seal release.

“Open sesame? Really?” Kimberly scoffed.

We all laughed and Arya shrugged her shoulders. “It’s voice activated. The sentry already did a facial recognition scan of us when we came into the yard.”

“Whoa,” said Mo.

She pushed open the door, ducked her head and walked into what looked like total darkness.”

“Watch your step-down,” she warned as we followed her inside.

Just inside the threshold was a green lighted step, down which led to a green lighted wide ramp. Arya walked backwards down the ramp as the room began to gradually light purple.

“Keep coming,” she said with excitement in her eyes and in her voice. “You’re the first people to see my renovations.”

The door, which was much thicker than it appeared on the outside, closed behind us with a vacuum sound.

Arya then turned and walked to the right — disappearing from sight until we got to the corner. It was breathtaking.

“Whoaaaaaaah,” we said in unison.

Arya laughed. “Right?”

We continued down a wide ramp until we got to the same level of the warehouse.

“These walls are reinforced solid steel, just like the ceiling and floors. Your phones won’t work down here. No signal of any kind can get in or out of here unless they’re connected to the network. The room is a perfect cube.”

“Mtumishi. These are my friends.” Arya said.

Then we heard the voice of our friend saying, “Welcome home, Arya.”

“Registering Josiah Ezekiel Thompson — ‘Jet’: Welcome and Shalom.”

“Shalom, Mtumishi,” I replied.

“Registering Mohammad Ali Khan — ‘Mo’: Welcome. A salaam alaikum.”

Mo replied, “Waalaikum assalaam, Mtumishi.”

“Registering Kimberly Areum Heo — ‘Kimberly’: Welcome and Anyoung haseyo.”

Kimberly bowed slightly and replied, “Anyoung haseyo, Mtumishi.”

 

“So our friends name is Mtumishi?” asked Kimberly.

“It is the name my AI chose for itself.  It is Swahili, meaning ‘servant’,” Explained Kimberly.

“You know he sounds like Allah?” asked Mo.

Kimberly sighed. “He means our friend.”

“It does?  Wow! I had no idea.  God always sounds sorta like me, to me… I guess. Anyway, this is the voice that Mtumishi created for itself.”

“Himself,” Kimberly corrected.

“Well…  it has no gender,” Arya explained.

Mo chimed in, “…But it has the voice of a male.”

“Yes. But it isn’t human — *it* has no sex organs so *technically* it cannot be male.” Arya smiled.

“Would you like to name this set, Arya?” asked Mtumishi.

Arya smiled. “Call them ‘Strike Squad’.”