CHAPTER TWO
Arabella Sterling sat in her modest living room, the light of evening filtering through the blinds. The spine of a worn-out photo album beckoned her, memories flitted across her mind like delicate moths. It was a small room, a sanctuary filled with tokens of her past — photos of smiling clients, awards recognizing her dedication, and small tokens from hours spent helping others navigate their darkest period.
When she turned to an old page, a photo of a young woman called Maya touched her heart. Maya had been one of Arabella’s most vulnerable clients, a sunny soul caught in a predatory online algorithm that fed not her anxiety, but her exploitation. Arabella still had vivid memories of Maya’s tear-stained face, when she understood she had been lied to. She had fought so hard for help, but the system had been stacked against them both.
A sound pierced the silence — her phone vibrating. Arabella looked at the screen — incoming call from Dahlia. She paused for a moment, the history of her life bearing down upon her, and then replied.
“Hey, Dahlia,” she said quietly, voice heavy with fatigue.
“Hey, Arabella. Just checking in. How’s everything going over at Hawthorne Innovations?” Dahlia’s voice was bright, hiding the tension she often bore beneath her surface.
Arabella sighed and snapped shut the photo album. “It’s been intense. The invitation was surprising, though I am committed to making a difference this time around. I just hope that somehow I can prevent Maya’s memory from fading away again.”
Dahlia paused for a moment and then said more seriously “I know that you care so much about ethical tech. Just keep in mind that big companies like Hawthorne can have ulterior motives. Stay vigilant.”
Arabella agreed, although Dahlia couldn’t tell because she couldn’t see Arabella. “I will. This time is different, though. There’s something deeper going on here.”
Dahlia chuckled softly. “When do you ever feel that things are simple? Just listen to your eyes and trust your gut. And if something seems amiss, don’t be afraid to bow out.”
“Thanks, Dahlia. I needed that reminder,” Arabella said, overcome with gratitude. She looked again at the photo of Maya, fueling her endless zeal to save others from similar scenerios.
Arabella leaned back as the call ended, heart racing with the potential and dangers that awaited her. Maya’s struggle was a memory that empowered her, but it was also a memory that put her more deeply in touch with the ethical tightropes she’d have to walk. It wasn’t helped by the fact that she couldn’t write it off. Her past was entwined with her future with Astra too closely to separate, and the specter of Maya’s betrayal hung heavily over her hopes for atonement.
A distant siren howled outside, a reminder that Meridian City didn’t sleep, not really. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the challenges ahead at Hawthorne Innovations. She was the one who had left everything behind, who had embarked on uncertain paths to ensure that technology worked for the benefit of humanity. Silently saying goodbye to Maya’s photo, she prepared herself to meet whatever came next with complete integrity and courage.
Later that night, Arabella was stuck at her apartment’s big window, the city lights twinkling like a sea of stars below. As he stood watching a holographic programming of his desk it flickered, alternating the invitation letter sent from Hawthorne Innovations with various AI news articles. Thoughts raced through her mind as she reread the message:
“As an emotional well-being expert, your opinion is critical to the success of Astra and we thank you for the important work you do.” Your input will help inform the future of empathic AI.”
She was both excited and fearful. It was hard to refuse the chance to help shape such revolutionary tech, but memories of her previous experiences with dangerous AI still haunted her. Arabella reached out and picked up the sleek device that they had given her earlier — a prototype of Astra’s interface. It hummed gently, as if alive, responding to her touch.
Her phone buzzed once more, a notification from Dahlia. Arabella stared at the screen, where Dahlia’s message said: “Remember why you started this. Trust yourself.”
Arabella took a deep breath, recollecting herself, drawing her mind back into her memories. He pictured Maya and innumerable others he had tried to assist, each one more a testament of his unwavering dedication as such. It ate her from the inside out that she couldn't save all 11,046 from being butchered but was damn determined Astra would never again be used to manipulate vulnerable emotional states — ever.
She settled into her cluttered desk, the invitation letter splayed in front of her next to notes and references on best practices for ethical A.I. Arabella’s fingers fluttered over the holographic keyboard, composing her acceptance reply with deliberate thought. Each word counted — she had to assert her role in overseeing Astra’s development while making it clear she wasn’t giving up or condoning unethical behavior.
As she wrote her response, a notification suddenly flashed on her screen: “Reminder: Orientation at Hawthorne Innovations tomorrow, 9 AM.” The screen emitted a bright light, though Arabella was more attracted to a minor glitch — temporary flickering at the edges of the holo-display, near imperceptible but disturbing.
“Oh no, not again,” she muttered under her breath, remembering what she had noticed: minor AI glitches, during her morning commute. As if the AI systems of the city mirrored her own disquiet, murmuring of unshed animosities brewing beneath the skin.
Arabella completed her answer and pressed send, feeling more resolute than ever in her decision. It was, she realized, more than a career-making opportunity: It was also her chance to make amends for the past, to devise a future in which technology would heal, not hurt. But the recurring glitches hinted at challenges yet to be discovered, and what her journey with Hawthorne Innovations would entail, was far from a straight line.
As she fell back into her seat, ruminating on the path before her, Arabella couldn’t escape the sense that her interaction with Astra would place her in the very ethical wars she had worked to grumble away. And the technological anomalies that had become such a part of the fabric of the city echoed her own dilemmas, illuminating a path where she knew she would be fighting to live her principles and to live as she was meant to.
The next morning, Arabella walked into Hawthorne Innovations, excitement, fear and adrenaline running through her in equal measures. It was a tall building with a mirrored facade. When she finally arrived at the sleek glass door, a weight of gravity hung over her — this was a place where humans and machines coalesced.
A Round-Up: A friendly AI greeter, silver and humanoid in shape, scanned her ID in a single fluid motion. The eyes, though artificial, carried a touch of warmth. “Welcome, Ms. Sterling. We’ve been waiting for you,” it said in a slow, measured tone.
Arabella managed a polite smile, but her nerves were evident. The greeter led her the way through the sprawling lobby, where uniformed staff with a sense of purpose bustled. Holographic ads drifted overhead, boasting the newest in Hawthorne Innovations’ latest line of AI—the displays becoming increasingly elaborate, each with a glossy face but underneath all the glitz, a covert urgency that followed Arabella was impossible to shake.
Arabella made her way down the corridor, casting curious glances at the high-end technology surrounding her – the application of AI in everything around her, from the display panels which reacted to her movements to the robotic assistants carrying out logistical tasks. She could feel the tension in the air, the building itself was like a cage, so finely crafted, so ostentatious, but there was something else in the spaces between.
They entered a large conference room flooded with natural light, the focal point a huge, holographic table that hovered a few inches above the floor. Arabella took a seat on the end, locking eyes with the thirty-two-year-old creator of Astra-Cassian Hawthorne. Cassian stood tall and lean, his dark hair tousled as if he had run a hand through it in contemplation. His bright blue eyes held both determination and something more gentle, the vulnerability that came with responsibility.
“Ms. Sterling,” Cassian greeted her and offered a hand that she shook firm. “Thank you for joining us. We’re so glad to have someone of your background.”
“Thank you, Cassian. I’m looking forward to contributing,” she said, feeling the slight tug of his charisma.
Just as she poised for progress, Dr. Vivienne Sinclair stepped in to prevent it. Tall and elegant, with salt-and-pepper strands in her dark hair, Vivienne possessed an air of authority softened by an unassuming kindness. She smiled kindly at Arabella, but her eyes had a twitch of worry.
“Welcome, Arabella,” Vivienne said, voice steady. “We are very excited about Astra’s development and your expertise will be critical in helping us stay on course.”
Cassian started the orientation session with a live demo of Astra’s capabilities. The AI responded with an unsettlingly great deal of empathy, offering that it could certainly have a conversation, which Arabella found both striking and disturbing. It was like having a conversation with an old friend, who understood every little detail about life.
But as the demo continued, Arabella started to notice small discrepancies — glitches in Astra’s responses that felt off. Her instincts, shaped by her own experiences, started to signal these discrepancies. She shared a brief look with Dr. Sinclair, who offered a nearly imperceptible nod confirming Arabella’s unspoken suspicions.
Then, just as the demonstration kicked into full gear, Darius Knight walked through the door, his presence demanding everyone's attention. Wearing a crisp tailored suit that bought power, Darius took stock of the room with a watchful, measuring gaze. “Nice work, Cassian,” he said, a smooth cadence with a slight undertow of tension. “We demand no less of a project of this scale.”
Arabella shivered a little as she heard him say “investor-driven modifications,” those very words ringing back to her own concerns earlier. The walls felt as if they were closing in on her, the pretense of progress now exposing fissures of ulterior motives. As Darius sat down, his imposing presence signaled that the real bugs of Astra’s development were just increasingly beginning to show themselves.