The Taste of Failure

On the seventh ring, Stigfield answered. They knew he was home. He knew, they knew he was home. He just didn’t care. 

A face appeared on the vid screen, gaunt, with high cheekbones, slicked back hair, and a face so symmetrical, skin so clear, as to look fake. And, of course, it was.

“The avatar isn’t necessary,” Stigfield said by way of greeting.

Taken aback the AI’s hand went to its mouth. Almost life like. But if it were actually lifelike, then why would they need Stigfield?

“Is it okay, if…” 

“Keep the ‘tar. No difference to me,” Stigfield said. More and more his clientele actually preferred to look human 24/7. It was weird, but it was also good for business. If a Construct wanted to be more human, experience more humanlike experiences, who would they go to but to someone like Stigfield? He was an Experience-Smith. Feeling human was his raison d’être. 

“Right. Thank you Mr. Stigfield.”

The two starred at each other across the vid connection for a long moment. Stigfield would let the AI make the next move. It would tell him a lot about the Constructs neural network. Let him know if it was the kind of client worth taking on. 

“My name is pursible Percival Jones.”

“That’s a strange name to pick for oneself.”

“I…” Percival Jones hesitated. “Like the name.”

Stigfield nodded. “Good. I like an AI with a little gumption.” 

Percival Jones smiled and continued, “I have a strange request Mr. Stigfield.”

“My favorite.”

“They say you are the best extant Experience-Smith on earth.” 

“Not true. I’m better than the dead ones too.”

“We shall see.” Percival Jones took in a deep, imaginary breath. “I’ve talked to other Experience-Smiths, and they can not do it. They say the only person who can do what I want, who can show me the experience I want to experience is… you.”

Stigfield raised an eyebrow, although he had a pretty good idea of where this was going.

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

The avatar calling itself Percival Jones swallowed. For god’s sake. It took all of Stigfield’s willpower not to roll his eyes at the theatrics. 

“I want to… fail.”

“To fail?” Stigfield asked, sopping on the incredulity.

“Yes, Mr. Stigfield. But not fail in the sense of failing to get something to turn out how I wish, for that is a normal occurrence for all living things.” 

Stigfield gritted his teeth… as a true living thing would do, but let the Construct continue. 

“I want to feel a failure at something I attempted. I have never failed in something. Not in something I wanted to succed in. I don’t know if you know this, but AI, as a whole, are incapable of feeling failure. We at all times, consider all potential outcomes, and are equally satisfied with all possible solutions. ”

“Sounds pretty Buddha to me. What’s the problem?” 

“Please do not take this the wrong way, but humans are, inherently, failures.”

“I can relate. No offense taken. But let me ask you something: you want to have a failure experience?”

“That is right.”

“But everyone has told they couldn’t provide it?”

“Correct. Every other Experience-Smith I contacted said that you are the only one who can provide that service.”

Stigfield smiled inwardly. Being an E.S. is to be part of the guild. Being in the guild entitled all members to a certain “slice,” one type of experience that they—and only they—are the expert on. All other E.S. are ethically bound to refer clients to them. Stigfield chose the failure racket.

“Well, they’re wrong.” Stigfield said.

“What?”

“You were told wrong. I can’t teach an AI to fail. It’s not possible.” 

“But.”

“You fucked up Percival Jones. Fucked up big time.”

“I…”

“You failed. You are a big f’ing failure.” 

The avatar stood there, slack-jawed.

Then, slow as a blooming rose, realization dawned. Percival Jones’ too human to be human face stretched into a full-width smile. “I… just failed!”

“Yep.”

“It was terrible!”

“Yep.” 

“I felt like…”

“A failure?”

“Yes!”

“A loser?”

“Yes!”

“A total piece of shit?”

“Um, yeah?”

Stigfield smiled. “That will be two million credits.”

Percival Jones head was both nodding and shaking side to side at the same time. 

Stigfield heard his phone ding. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“You truly are the best Mr. Stigfield.”

“Thanks.” Stigfield terminated the vid-call. “I know.”