Alan sank into his big red chair and opened his tablet, annoyed to see yet another ad for Mneme. It was one of those obnoxious Greek retellings, and worse, this one written by AI. People online were raving about it. It was horrific. Couldn’t they see that books weren’t meant to be consumer goods, that they were pieces of art? As far as Alan was concerned stories belonged to the human experience and had done so ever since apes started warning each other about prowling leopards. There was something perverse about taking a classic greek tale and giving it to a machine to chew up and spit back out. The cover was clearly AI generated as well. These cheap machine novels were prolific these days, disgusting.
Alan thought about how he might write up a short blog post, railing against this new trend, a scathing takedown of the hollowness of the new medium. He had many good thoughts on the topic, he was a programmer as well as an aspiring writer. He could speak to the technical aspect while taking down the inhumanity of the trend. People would like it. He’d just peek at the novel, just the first few pages, so that he might better pass judgment on it. With a tap, the book was downloaded and chapter one flowed before him.
He scoffed, it wasn’t all that bad, to be honest. The algorithms were clearly getting better. He had to hand it to whatever engineer in whatever sad gray cubicle created this lifeless thing, because it really did act full of life. In fact, it was rather intriguing.
Alan grinned. It must be a fake.
He’d unmasked a them, a ghostwriter pretending to be AI to ride the new trend and make some bucks. Not a bad scheme. The characters were so lively, so charming, so broken, so lovely. It was a shame this talent had stooped to such a dirty trick, certainly they could have made it in the marketplace without resorting to such low measures. A few more pages and perhaps he could identify a few ways in which a machine could never write something so lyrical, so engaging, so full of the joys of human experience.
The end.
A short book, an easy read. He looked at the clock, it was 3 am. Blimey, he’d read the entire thing in a single sitting. He smiled, he could see what all the fuss was about, it certainly was good, maybe not the best thing he’d read recently, but still satisfying, satisfying in a way he couldn’t quite name. All the pieces lined up nicely, that was it, a proper alignment of the various character arcs. Artful. Delightful. A fake, but a good fake, a great fake maybe.
The next morning Alan straightened his hair. He brushed his teeth while checking his phone. The internet was slow as hell, news pages half loaded. He shook his head. Some things never changed. For all their technical know-how, there were still kinks in the pipes. The internet couldn’t flow everywhere all the time.
He sat down with his laptop and logged into his work portal. Still slow. He glanced at his tablet as the colorful loading dots danced their artful little dance. Maybe he’d leave a quick review of Mneme while he waited. Alan was shocked to see another two books in the series available for download. Not only that, his favorite character featured prominently on the cover. He scoffed, delighted. What a brilliant marketing plan! To write a trilogy, market it as a cheap AI book, then release the follow-up novels right away? It was the binge-watching era after all, people wanted their content on demand.
Book one was good, he might as well give the others a shot. The main character was so relatable. His life was very similar to Alan’s in many ways, yet fantastically twisted. A smarter, more interesting, more magical Alan. It fulfilled exactly that niche that fiction is supposed to fill. The third book was even better, a masterpiece. An award winner for sure. Alan wiped the tears from his eyes, his heart still pounding with the joy and the sorrow of the final climax.
Shit. It was after noon! He’d completely forgotten about the meeting. They wouldn’t fire him for it but hell, what an engrossing read.
He checked his email and his work messages, nothing new. No new events on the calendar, no code commit logs, no chat in the social channels.
His tablet flashed. Another six novels in the series were available.
Alan needed to eat, he felt a little weak. He grabbed his tablet and headed to the fridge. The new books didn’t have any reviews yet. He pawed for the eggs, eggs? He’d need to cook that. Something fast, something easy. He grabbed a tomato and sat down with his tablet.
Sometime in the night he had to stop reading because his head hurt too badly. He’d better sleep. His sense of balance was all messed up. He could read with one eye for a bit, that could work. Better Alan. Smarter, more magical Alan.
What would happen to him?
What would happen next?