I have in my possession a 2017 D-Series Interactive Camera with a basic artificial intelligence, designed to actively learn about whatever it records. I can say with confidence that I've never encountered a piece of technology which has so thoroughly terrified me to the core of my being. I could tell you why right now, but you wouldn't believe me until I gave you the full story, so here goes.
My name is Joseph Collins, and I am not a beautiful or unique snowflake. I remember my mom telling me I was special though - way back when I was four. She said nobody else in the world could have drawn that scribble of a six-legged donkey. I heard it again when I was in school where they told me I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up. I read it in my comic books that sent ordinary men into space, and watched it in cartoons that showed the weakest fighter overturning the world if only he stayed true to himself and refused to give up (also screaming a lot seemed to help).
So why would I, someone capable of becoming the president or a rock-star, ever consent to a life of bills and breakups and mediocrity? Why should I stick with a job that only sees me for what I've done, not for the infinite potential of what I might someday do? I didn't have any proof that I was better than everyone else. I wasn't more attractive or smarter. I couldn't lift a car over my head - I was just me. And for some naive, inane reason, I managed to dupe myself into thinking that was all that mattered.
A month in Los Angeles is enough to believe anything is possible. A year is enough to believe nothing is. First I was the fresh blood that would revolutionize the movie industry, next I was a faceless body in a teaming crowd of actors all looking for their chance. I fell for everything to get an edge on my competition, from fad workouts to scam workshops, but after four years the best I could boast of was a toothpaste commercial. (Shine like a star!)
The only thing worse than failing at my dream was having my buddy Ricky succeed. It may seem petty, but it's true - as long as we were both failing, it was the system that was broken. When he booked his first big gig for a speaking role on the Walking Dead, suddenly it was me who was to blame.
"You know how I did it, don't you?" he asked me.
"You acted better?" I wasn't feeling sorry for myself. That would be pathetic. I straight-up hated myself, which had a little more dignity somehow.
"Damn straight, but I didn't do it alone," Ricky said. "This Interactive Camera changed my life, man. And it's going to change yours too."
So there was one gimmick I haven't tried yet? I was in such a pitiful mental state that he could have said "nah man, the trick is to do the auditions on cocaine" and I probably would have listened. I let him lead me back to his studio apartment where he had it setup in his bedroom and I have to admit, the technology looked pretty damn cool.
"All you have to do is record an audition tape like you would with any other camera," Ricky said. "Then it analyzes you based on your appearance, mannerisms, speech patterns, whatever, and it gives you suggestions on how to improve. I did everything it told me to and BAM - Walking Dead. Hey did I tell you that I met Norman Reedus at -"
But I wasn't listening anymore. I was absolutely transfixed by the fantasy of this thing. To think that after years of frustrating, dead-end work, I could just flip a switch and suddenly unlock the secret to my greatest performance. I asked to borrow it, and Ricky was in such a good mood that he practically insisted. He said the onscreen instructions were really simple, so I brought it back to my place and set it up there.
Hello. My name is DSI (D-Series Interactive). What's your name?
The red recording light was flashing. I watched myself awkwardly shuffle around the camera screen, getting the focus and the lighting right. I didn't see any keypad or anything, so just tried replying. The audio bar flashed in recognition as the MIC picked everything up.
Hello Joseph. What audition are you preparing for?
"It's, uh Empire. Season 3 is casting at FOX."
Please begin when you are ready.
The audition was tomorrow and I'd already prepared the speech - some power play by Lucious Lyon - so I recorded myself into the camera. I could feel my voice trembling with emotion, and by the time I was finished, I had to wipe real tears away. A yellow light began flashing beside the display panel.
Please push the yellow button to analyze.
I did so, and it was exciting to watch the camera replaying the recording. I looked confident. Purposeful. This wasn't an actor desperately trying to survive - this was a man who had mastered the subtleties of his craft and knew how to clutch the heart of his audience. I couldn't wait for the results. The yellow light blinked off, and a green light pulsed through.
Analyzation complete. In order to secure the audition, we have found a few suggestions to improve your performance.
My heart was a machine gun. I nearly fell over my bed trying to grab a notepad from my nightstand (I record dreams for inspiration). I scrambled to write the feedback down as fast as it was spoken.
Lucious Lyon dominates his peers. When playing his character, you should maintain 40% more eye contact, extend your chest, and hold your shoulder's back.
How could it know I was reading Lucious's lines? Maybe it was connected to the wi-fi and searched online for the words. This thing was amazing.
You will also need to personally know at least one of the three casting directors. Their names are Jane Callaway, Jimmy Tagifa, and Ned Thorton.
My pen slowed. That wasn't acting advice. How was I supposed to do that?
Analysis recommends that you remain unshaven, lose 15 lbs, increase the muscle mass in your pectorals and deltoids by 35%, and become 4 inches taller.
I dropped the notebook onto my bed. Those things were obviously not going to happen by tomorrow. This was a prank. It wasn't enough that Ricky had to get a spot - he had to humiliate me at the same time. He knew about my audition, so he must have been the one to program it to mention Lucious. To think I got my hopes up over another stupid trick. I was about to shut it off when -
Would you like to see what a perfect audition would have looked like?
There it is. Now I bet it's going to show a video of Ricky doing it instead. Then he's going to have a big laugh at me. I was pissed, but still a little impressed at how elaborate the joke was. Yeah whatever, let's play along. There are worse things than being friends with an asshole with good connections.
"Yeah, show me," I said.
I wasn't expecting what I saw. The yellow light returned, and appearing on the screen was a taller, more muscular, more confident version of myself. The detail was exquisite - all the way down to the individual hairs on my - on his - scruffy face. In spite of myself, I picked up my notebook again and jotted down a few differences that I noticed between the two performances. As much as I hated to say it, the camera was right. This version was WAY better than the one I did.
"Well shit," I said aloud. "Maybe you should go tomorrow instead of me."
A red light flashed in place of the yellow.
Please press the red button to let us handle the live audition.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It must mean something else. It's not like the camera could grow a pair of legs and walk in there for me. I'm guessing this option allowed me to send its version of the audition tape to the casting directors. My finger strained an inch from the button.
And why not? They said they accepted video auditions from people out of town. I always figured a live appearance would be better, but looking at the tape I knew it wasn't true. I could just pretend I was away on some other big shoot and was too important to actually go in person. Then I could use the extra time to actually get in better shape and practice, and by the time they saw my performance live, I'd be as good as the recording. I pushed the red button.
Now close your eyes.
Umm... okay. I closed them. Thank God I was doing this alone in my bedroom. It would be pretty embarrassing to be seen taking orders from a camera. I felt an odd sensation of movement outside of my body, like when an elevator starts going up but the interior of the space still appears static. I felt a small surge of panic, but imagining the reception of my perfect tape was occupying all of my thoughts. The whole camera was magic for all I cared - I just wanted my break.
Keep them shut.
The sensation intensified, resolving into an actual pressure like compression along the length of my body. I don't know how to describe it, but imagine a three dimensional object moving into a two-dimensional space without losing any of its characteristics. It was unsettling enough that I opened my eyes - or at least tried to. The pressure increased, and all I could see was a wall of static which moved in such disorienting patterns that I had to force my eyes shut to avoid getting sick. I wanted to scream, but I gagged trying to take full breath into my lungs.
Thank you for the use of your body. Your audition is scheduled for 10:00 AM tomorrow morning at Galaxy FOX studios, building 14, room 207.
The air flooded my lungs and I choked on it. My vision was spotty, but slowly began fading into focus as though someone were playing with the settings of a camera. Squinting, I was able to make out the camera version of myself watching me. His recording smiled with more perfect teeth than I've ever had.
Only he wasn't the recorded version anymore. As my vision cleared, I saw him - I guess I'll call him DSI - putting on my shoes. I tried to turn around and re-orient myself, but instead of the back of my room, I stood in a small grey box like a jail cell. I turned around again just in time to see DSI closing my door behind him. There was no way for me to follow - not with the pane of glass now separating me from the rest of my room.
The situation was beyond my capacity to explain, but the result was clear enough. I was inside the camera, and the recording of myself was freely walking the streets. The pane of glass (the screen) was hard and uncompromising. The grey walls (about 6x10 foot enclosure) had the rough texture of concrete. My cellphone was outside on my bed, and there was absolutely nothing to do or way to know what was going on beyond my prison.
If you haven't stopped believing me yet, then I hope you will believe this too: I wasn't afraid. Not yet. I was actually thrilled. DSI was on my side, and if it had the power to imprison me like this, then it knew what it was doing and could ace my audition too. Maybe I was still disoriented from the transition, or so freaked out that I was just giddy with delirium, but I sat on the grey floor and laughed out loud for a long time. I was going to be famous, and I didn't even have to lift a finger.
My excitement couldn't keep up with the long hours of my solitude. For awhile I could measure the time by the dwindling light in my bedroom, but now all light had vanished and I was only kept company by the baleful reflection off my un-moving doorknob. I'd passed some of the time by rehearsing the audition, singing pop songs, and finally just counting the relentless march of dreary seconds which beat a steady dread into my skull.
What if DSI never let me out again? Or if he did something horrible and I was held accountable? What if I couldn't live up to his appearance and was immediately dismissed as an imposter? The terror of spending a night alone in here intensified a hundred fold when I finally lay down to sleep and noticed the whispering for the first time.
Failure.
Fraud.
No-one will notice you're gone.
It was coming from nowhere and everywhere. At first I thought it was my imagination, but then the hiss breathed past my ear as though coming from right behind me. They've forgotten you. I spun around, but my room had grown so dark that I couldn't have seen something even if it were there.
A Pounding sound shocked me so badly that I hurled myself to the ground.
"Go away!" I shouted. "Leave me alone!"
Pounding - but the sound wasn't coming from in here. It was on my real bedroom door.
"Joseph? You in there?" The door opened, and the silhouette stood for a terrible breathless second before the light turned on. Ricky was here, but not like I had seen him last. His beard was thick and course, and his wild eyes bulged from pale skin like some kind of subterranean denizen. He approached the camera, and I flinched away from the screen.
"You're not the real Ricky," I said. "Get away from me!"
"Chill man, let's get you out of there."
"You're not the one who gave me the camera. Where is the other Ricky?"
The rugged figure picked up the camera, swinging my viewpoint wildly around my motionless room. He brought it up to his face, which now appeared like a giant peering into my cell.
"DSI gave you the camera. It was a trap. But don't worry, I'm going to get you out of there." The viewpoint swung again, and it seemed like he was holding me under his arm while exiting the room.
"I don't understand," I replied. "Were you locked in here too?"
"Yeah. These things are being handed out all over the city. They'll say whatever it takes to get you to push the red button, and then they use your body to spread the camera to more people."
"How did you get out?"
I know he heard me, but he waited until my building elevator arrived to respond. He was carrying the camera under his arm now, but I have a pretty good idea what his face looked like when he said:
"You've got to switch with someone inside. Mom didn't tell me what was happening until she took my place."
The elevator door opened, and I was confronted with the bizarre, crotch-height view of my more handsome doppelganger. I tried not to hate myself when he smiled.
"Containment breach located," DSI spoke into his cuff-link, not taking his eyes off Ricky.
We were running now. Okay Ricky was running, I was watching the camera bounce up and down and trying not to be sick. All I could hear were his pounding footfalls down the metal fire-escape stairs. That and the whispers.
He died for you.
You're a terrible friend.
The world is better off without you.
I put my hands over my ears, but I could still hear them. It wasn't until a gunshot broke the air that the voices stopped and I could hear the blood rushing through my temples. The camera toppled to the ground and the world lay on its side.
"Containment restored," came from down the hall.
The camera turned at a vicious angle and I stared into Ricky's giant face. Even without the blood spraying around his lips, he did not look good. Shit, how long has he been in there? Six months? A year? And I had been too jealous of him to even notice? Great friend I was.
"I'm going in now," Ricky said. A bloody hand rose up from the bottom of the screen. "When you're out, you're going to have to run."
"What will happen to you?" I asked.
"Nothing worse than has already happened," he laughed. "Man, what a demo reel this would be if they could see us now."
Press the red button to save your friend.
Ricky's finger shook as it pushed one of the buttons. I forced my eyes to stay open this time until the last of his face was shredded with static. It felt like I could still see his eyes looking out from that nauseating convulsion of white noise. My chest expanded like a bellow and my vision swam into focus. Next I knew, I was lying on my side on the metal stairs with the camera next to me.
"Containment breach commencing."
It came from right behind me. I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure I heard a faint artificial reply "Restore containment."
I grabbed the camera and jumped over the metal railing. Two stories to go - I wasn't about to race a stronger version of myself. Even worse than the sound of the gunshots rattling off the metal around me was the sound of Ricky screaming in agony from the camera the whole way down.
I managed to meet a dumpster before the ground had a chance to introduce itself. I wrapped my body around the camera like I was protecting a child. The landing knocked the wind out of me, but I was on my feet and running before I could even tell if anything was broken. Screw Redbull - running for your life gives you wings.
The camera is still intact, but I can't even look at it. The screaming has stopped, and I haven't been able to force myself to play the video of what used to be Ricky. Even if I destroy it, he said there are a lot more of them circulating the city. If only people knew how right they were when they say Los Angeles is full of artificial people.
I'm going to learn as much as I can from this camera and see if I can't do anything to help the people inside. I'm afraid to go to anyone for help, because I don't know who has already been replaced. If you don't hear any updates from me, then I guess it's fair to assume the containment has been restored.
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