Monday, 13 April 2026

In Which Mark loses his mind by Kanwar Pal Singh Plaha, americano

 

(present: 5:45 pm)

As always, after logging off from work, Mark reached behind his ear to turn brAIn off; the name, a clever blend of the human intellect and the AI chip embedded in it.

When it didn't respond on the third tap, Mark frowned. He had expected the familiar tone that indicated he had switched to ‘personal’ mode so he could jump back into Final Doomsday 3. His team of five players had been unbeatable since Kelly had joined and he was already in love with her avatar, a mediaeval warrior princess. Tonight, they were taking on the Zombies, controlled by a super-villain that employed advanced AI to lethal effect. If they annihilated all zombies at this level, the team would achieve the rare glory of topping the leaderboard, and half a bitcoin. He could finally muster the courage to ask Kelly out.

Mark grabbed his mobile phone and texted his boss, smiling at the irony that he could write perfect sentences without typos while brAIn was turned on.

* * *

(a year ago)

Bill had an annoying habit of pacing around the room when he spoke. “Let me be frank with you,” he met Mark’s gaze. “Your performance for FY29 has been disappointing.”

As Mark gripped his chair, Bill leaned forward and rested his hands on the table: “Mate, you are a brilliant engineer. Your code is of the highest quality, showcasing your left, or is it right… anyway, creative brain.”

Bill’s pacing was a signal of low tolerance so Mark waited for the inevitable; performance management or, worse, termination. He swallowed and held his breath.

“Look, there's pressure to give you a ‘needs improvement’ rating but,” Bill smiled, “ I’ve marked you as ‘meets expectation’, for now.”

Mark released the handles, sank back in the chair, and sighed: “Wow. Thanks, Bill. I'll work on my skills.”

“Great, but your communication does need work,” Bill’s voice softened, “and although I don't have a pay raise, I have something you might enjoy more.”

Mark straightened and Bill laughed. “I knew it! I have signed you up for the new AI app, still in early Beta–”

“What? Wow!”

Bill chuckled: “Exciting, huh? It can help your written communication within the team, as well as our customers–”

“Where do I download it from?” Mark reached for his laptop.

* * *

(present: 5:53 pm)

Mark had barely texted Bill when his gaming console beeped. His teammates were expecting him. He was popular after brAIn had pitched in to boost his reflexes, and confidence when he had forgotten to switch it off. He had annihilated the opposition in the game, all by himself and Kelly sent him a heart emoji, and her coveted ring-of-power.

Within weeks, however, his team was frustrated, and bored. Mark’s game avatar was unstoppable. His AI-augmented reflexes pivoted, ducked, and spun, as if by magic. He leaped around the landscape, smoking out monsters and zombies from locations others couldn’t fathom.

“All decimated, peeps!” He raised a fist to the sky.

Groans filled his headset. “Bro, we know you’re gettin’ all CEO but we’re missing out on the action, y’know.”

Kelly was gentler. “Those reflexes are awesome, Mark. Love your drip but a team isn’t one person. Let the fam frag some shit too” She ended her text with a heart.

“I’ll pull back my extra, Kel.”

The next morning, Bill was furious. “Mark, buddy!” he snapped. “Help me with this audit log, will you?”

Mark knew and tapped his temple. “I’m sorry, Bill. I forgot to turn this thing off. I’m still getting used to the switching–”

“Every minute that brAIn is active, it costs us thousands of dollars. Plus, there’s a chance our data can be stolen.”

Mark raised his palm. “But–”

“It’s in an early stage of development,” Bill continued unabated, ”and not a hundred percent secure… yet. We don’t want it discovered outside our corporate network.”

“We have 2FA security–”

“Yes, yes! But, a tiny leak and legal will be swarming us, and you don’t want that. Trust me.”

“I do, Bill.”

A notification ping on his phone brought him back to the matter at hand. It wasn’t Bill’s reply but another text from Kelly. ’Hey frag_master don’t you L out on me. Get off work before it kills ya.’ Her use of his alias made his heart skip beats. The brAIn sent a million sweet possibilities flashing around his neurons. However, he didn’t want to join the game while brAIn was active. Yet, he didn’t want to risk being banned from the game for inactivity.

“ASAP Kel.” he replied, punching the phone in frustration. “Just finishing off at work. Keep your finger on the trigger. We’ll decimate them as soon as I join.”

Then, he tried turning brAIn off again. When it didn’t, he checked Bill’s chat. The message was unread.

* * *

(five months ago)

At the next performance review, Bill was ecstatic, although his pacing hadn’t ceased. “So, Mark, has the new app been of assistance?”

“Yes,” Mark smiled, “I believe my communication skills have improved, thanks to the intelligence built into the app. Oh, and its robot icon is cute!”

“You noticed that, eh? Your feedback to the devs was invaluable in improving the product.”

“Happy to help, Bill.”

Bill sat down and pounded his laptop keyboard. “Therefore,” Bill paused for effect and swiveled the laptop around towards Mark, “I am pleased to say that you’ve exceeded expectations this quarter. Congratulations!”

Mark nodded. “Thanks. There is one other thing though–”

“Yes?” Bill frowned.

“It seems I am no longer producing new ideas but merely reviewing what the app suggests. In fact, as of late I have very little to add sometimes.”

“It appears the app is learning the way you think.” Bill winked. “As the app’s tagline goes, ‘Let me know your thoughts’!”

“Yes, the robot repeats it every so often too. It’s super annoying sometimes… sorry!”

“No offence taken,” Bill laughed, “and I have just the upgrade for you, if you are keen–”

“An upgrade to the app? It’s doing great as-is…”

“I know but the upgrade is not just a passive app, mate. It’s cutting-edge tech.”

“Really? Wow!” Mark straightened in his chair. Then, leaned forward.

“Yeah, but I’ll need some approvals from you–”

“Sure!”

Bill laughed. “Wait, there’s more. It involves a minor surgical procedure where a chip, tinier than your pinky, will be embedded behind your ear. Of course, you’ll be able to tap it on and off at will.”

“How painful is the surgery?”

“I am not sure, to be honest. I was told ‘minor’, so a couple hours, perhaps?”

Mark nodded. Bill cleared his throat. “Ah, there’s also an NDA clause–”

Mark frowned. “Why so?”

“Well, just like the company laptop, as long as the implant is turned on, your ideas remain exclusive property of the company. Moreover, it's in alpha stage, and we don’t want the competition hearing of it.”

“So, you’re saying the NDA is just for the secrecy of the project?”

“Correct.”

“Is it safe? I mean if the chip is being embedded.”

“Well, it has been tested on primates, and human trials are underway. You will be the first human to actually try it, outside of the lab.”

Mark swallowed and sank back into the chair.

Bill continued. “I understand you are nervous but the chip can be removed.”

Mark met his gaze but didn’t respond. Bill hesitated. “I could offer it to someone else but I know you love bleeding-edge tech and the geek in you will–”

“Ya, but how does it differ from the app?”

Bill smiled. “Well, it can supplement your thoughts, render your ideas in the most appropriate language, and improve tone. You’ll never rewrite stuff again. It’s like having that dancing robot app in your head editing and tuning your output, as it happens. Hopefully, not as annoying.” Bill finished with a nervous laugh.

Mark scratched his chin. “But the current app works well.” He dragged the words. “Can I turn down this upgrade?”

“I’m afraid you can’t. I mean, you agreed to test future versions when you signed up for the desktop app.”

“Surely, I can quit the company?”

Bill nodded. “That’s your right, yes. But you can’t work for another tech company for at least three years, as per our no-poach agreement.”

Mark’s voice was almost a whisper. “And I’m guessing I’ve agreed to that too?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Look,” Bill came around the desk and patted Mark, “Why don’t you sleep over it and if I don’t hear from you by lunchtime tomorrow, I’ll send you further details and the documentation for signatures.”

Mark stood up, relieved. “Thanks Bill. I’ll do that.”

(present 5:55 pm)

Mark reached for a beer in the fridge. He never drank alcohol while gaming. It affected his reflexes and gamethrowing was not appealing. Today, however, he needed to calm his nerves first. He began pacing the room as he swallowed down the beer.

Every so often, he tried the brAIn switch off routine, shaking his head a few times and even trying deep breathing.

Why wasn’t it working?

He even went back to his work laptop and opened a support ticket for the IT department and marked it critical, fully aware that it’s Friday afternoon and he won’t hear back until Monday morning at the earliest.

Then, he switched on the television, settled on the couch, and drank another beer while wishing Bill would reply to his message.

(five months ago)

The following day at eleven a.m., Mark received the following email:

Dear Mr Madden,

As discussed in our meeting earlier today, I would like to congratulate you on choosing to help develop the product that has the potential to change the way we live and work.

Details of installing the device in your cranium are attached, along with a link to the NDA that must be signed electronically. Once your signature is received, a date for the surgical procedure will be scheduled at your convenience.

However, your acceptance to this program is voluntary and you may refuse to join it by clicking here.

Let me know your thoughts.

Best Regards,

William Smith

Disclaimer: Please note that brAIn is in early beta but the team is working to improve it rapidly.

Mark read the email twice, chewed his lips, read it once again, and then signed the documents digitally before hitting Send.

He stared at the Undo link for the sent email until it disappeared and sighed.

* * *

(present: 6:01 pm)

Mark’s phone rang and it startled him. He was expecting a reply but Bill had called him back. “What’s up Mark?” He yelled over what appeared to be pub chatter.

“Hey Bill, sorry to bother you so late… I’m unable to turn brAIn off?”

“What? Hold on, let me find a quieter spot–okay… is it better now? Could you repeat that last bit please?”

“I am. Unable to. Turn the brAIn chip off, Bill!”

“Ah I get it!” Bill said quickly, “It must be the latest update.”

“What update?”

“The latest version. Rolled out last night. It disables the off function.”

“Shit! Why wasn’t I notified to accept the changes? This is unreal, man!”

There was a pause before Bill asked: “Are you sure you didn’t accept the new Ts and Cs, Mark?”

“I’m positive! I got no notification or I wouldn’t have–”

“Just for my sake, would you mind checking your Inbox again?”

“Er, sure.” Mark replied. “Please stay on the call. I’m checking.”

He opened the email app and checked his Sent folder. A digitally signed reply had been sent in response to the upgrade notification.

“Bill!” He almost yelled in panic. “There is an acceptance email but I swear to God, I didn’t send it. Especially since I was asleep at 2:05 a.m.!”

“Oh, Okay! But Mark, If you didn’t accept it, then how–”

Mark wasn’t listening anymore. His hand reached behind his ear. When he didn’t feel anything under the skin, he began to scream.


Bio:

Kanwar lives in Sydney and loves doing the write thing, at least what left-to-right. When not writing, Kanwar shoots and hangs things, as in photography and painting. He taps a keyboard and pushes a mouse for his "day job".

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