Microfic :: 24/7 Lofi Binaural Beats - Beats to Be Brainwashed/Obey to :: Chapter 1

Molly first encountered the drone at a cafe. It wasn’t a trip that she’d been planning on, a sudden downpour had panicked a small crowd and led them scrambling into whatever local establishments they could shelter in. Molly had been swept up in the excitement with them into a cramped cafe, now filled with damp but relieved Saturday shoppers. The smell of ground coffee beans and humidity mixed in with the faint petrichor that had been wisped in from outside. The quick dash indoors left her panting, but she tried to smile and laugh with the groups around her, brushing some of the rain off her coat. Stepping sideways, she began to push past the cosseted huddles with a litany of 'sorry's and 'thank you's, looking for a space where she could keep out of the way until the weather dissipated.

It was through all the chatter and clinking of coffee machines that she noticed there was one space still vacant at a two-person table. Despite the overcrowding, no one had chosen to grab the seat. She squeezed her way forward towards it, perplexed as to why there was a radius of space surrounding it. Surely there couldn’t be anything that wrong with it? As she stepped out into the empty area that had wordlessly apparated around the mysterious chair, she quickly realised why.

Sitting by itself at the other end of the table, hunched over a laptop and typing away, was a drone. Molly had seen pictures of them before, had heard rumours too, but had never encountered one this close up before. A drone? What was it doing here? You weren’t supposed to encounter these scary, machine-like creatures in a warm, comfy cafe setting like this! Weren’t they supposed to mindlessly go ‘beep boop’ and 'resistance is futile' and complete orders in some dark facility underground somewhere? 

She kept staring at it, transfixed. Not a single bit of its skin was showing, its body coated so tightly in some strange, rubbery material that shimmered in the warm glow of the cafe (some rumours even indicated that they no longer had a human body underneath at all). Whatever it was made of, it was skintight, giving it the full flexibility of its fingers as it typed away intensely upon its keyboard. Its head was completely encapsulated by a helmet with a pitch black visor, with some techy-looking cat ears protruding from the top. 

But it was its attire that was most striking. Despite its robotic, dehumanised form, it was dressed in a pastel pink hoodie with a pink scarf and skirt to match. Its laptop was decorated in little anime stickers, the bag by its boots was lavender with a floral pattern running across it. If it weren't for the sinister entity underneath, Molly would have shrugged off its wardrobe as quirky but somewhat normal. It was even shuffling about on its chair to try and get comfy in the least robotic fashion possible.

Now that she knew why the space had formed, Molly could sense the air of hesitancy from the cacophony around her, as if the throng of shoppers were trying to pretend it simply wasn’t there. She couldn’t blame them, they’d all heard the rumours in the media about drones and the processes involved in becoming one. She was about to turn on her heel and make her retreat back into the safety of the crowd, but suddenly the drone raised its head to meet her. The pitch black of its visor staring up at her indifferently, as though it was looking right through her, and the sheer, nerve-wracking peer pressure emitting from the automaton caused Molly to reach out hastily and grab the vacant chair in both her hands.

“U-umm… uh… is this seat… is it taken? Or… er... is it okay if I… if I sit here...?” Molly stuttered, her words becoming quieter as she realised what the people around her must be thinking of her actions.

“3338//Pleasantry :: It is available, feel free to take it.”

It took Molly a second to realise that now she had committed and would have to sit in the chair. Purple LEDs from the drone masks were flickering as it studied her, watching her slowly and timidly take the seat opposite. She could feel warmth rising to her cheeks, why was she doing this? There were so many people around her, no doubt judging her for sitting with a drone. People who she would no doubt never see again, but it still embarrassed her to be under their critical eyes. Her hands tightly gripped the edges of the seat, staring intently down at the table before herself.

“3338//Curiosity :: Are you quite okay? This drone’s sensors are informing it that you’re seeming agitated.” It spoke with a human voice, but it was filtered so strongly through a vocoder that it outputted from the helmet with a mechanical tone. It had lowered its laptop screen, its attention now fully focused on its nervous visitor. She could feel her blush growing ever redder.

“O-oh, I’m fine… I just… I’ve, er, never met someone like you before.” What was she saying? Was this small talk? Was she making small talk with a drone? She looked up at it, and now she found she couldn’t look away. The faceless visor, the cute pastel fabrics - she tried not to think about how jealous she was that it could dress so cutely in public like that. Weren’t drones supposed to be emotionless automatons!? How come they could dress so… adorably?

“3338//Reassuringly :: Well, it’s not going to bite.” It tapped on its visor. “It can’t, you see. This unit’s designation is #3338. What’s your name?”

“M-Molly, I’m Molly. It’s, uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Molly managed a small smile and the drone nodded kindly in return. She softly drummed her fingers upon the table, desperate for some way to maintain polite conversation. “What are you doing here, if that’s okay to ask? I take it you can’t exactly drink coffee…”

It giggled an electronically distorted laugh, leaning forward and relaxing its arms upon the table. “3338//Informatively :: It comes here to write, there’s just something so romantic about writing in the warm glow of a cafe. The relaxing aura, the gentle noises, the caffeinated air. It also finds writing… difficult, and the change of environment helps it to focus upon the task at hand. It’s one of the few tasks that can’t be programmed into it, you see. Of course, to get around that little coding dilemma, when its Mxtress discovered that writing is what it really wanted to do, They programmed it to come to this cafe and immediately initiate the writing process. Mxtress is so very powerful... but the actual act of formulating stories and getting words down onto the screen has to come from itself and not its code. The woes of a drone trying to be creative!”

It giggled again. Molly could hear the joy in its tone the moment it had got to talk about its ‘Mxtress’... whatever that is. “So, you are programmed then? Like… in your mind and stuff? Sorry, again, if that’s a personal question.”

“3338//Calmly :: Oh it’s happy to talk about it. And you’re completely correct, this unit is thoroughly programmed to better serve itself, its collective and its Mxtress. Through this programming it is able to complete its tasks efficiently and be one with the other drones as a beautiful whole.” It sighed dreamily, relaxing against its arms as it spoke about its programming. “Quite often it will be completing its objectives automatically, as its code dictates, with no ability or desire to resist it. Just like a roomba, following its programming and vacuuming the floor, because it simply exists to complete that one objective and do nothing else but obey its code. Mindlessly obeying without a care in the world. Just a good, obedient drone. Mmmmn... it feels that about sums it up.”

Molly shuddered, growing more wide-eyed as the description went on. She hadn't expected it to be so honest about its existence as a drone. Surely they'd try to at least pretend they weren't totally brainwashed? She sat in silence, pondering that kind of life over. Such a loss of free will, to be so fully under someone's control like that… and she'd heard that the drones consented to it as well? It made her feel so uneasy, so uncomfortable, because it felt like such a drastic step to take… even if the outcome sounded like it had just the slightest advantages.

She stayed quiet as she kept running it over and over again in her mind. Eventually, it was the drone that cut through the silence, trying to take on a chirpier tone. “3338//Assumptively :: Let this unit take a ‘stab in the dark’, so to speak, about the conclusions you’re drawing. You consider the existence that it just described as ‘inhuman’, like it is betraying some virtue or something. Yet, at the same time, you can’t help but see the perks to it. That peaceful, programmed productivity, that fulfilling sense of belonging to something...”

It could see Molly tensing up, waving its hands and quickly wrapping its explanation up. “3338//Teasingly :: Though it might also be going way over the mark for our first encounter! It’s sorry, it didn’t mean to dive so deep. But it does hope this has satisfied your curiosity.”

“Th-that’s okay. It’s… interesting.” That was all Molly could manage to say. Yes, she found herself so curious about this, that she couldn’t deny. At first it had been just to make conversation but now, after the drone had so brazenly and excitedly spoke about its experiences, she felt like there was a piece from stories she'd been told about them that was missing… and she couldn’t help but want to explore what that must be.

“3338//Concerned :: Are you certain you're okay? Mxtress would be ever so disappointed in this drone if it had gone about scaring random humans. Is there anything it can do to make it up?"

"I… I would really love to learn more-"

3338 suddenly jolted, its movement becoming more mechanical as it picked up the laptop and slotted it into the flowery backpack it had resting on the floor. “3338//Apologetically :: This unit is sorry but it has to cut this conversation short. Its programming is kicking in and it needs to return to its assigned living station to complete further tasks. It’s been lovely to meet you though, Molly. Absolutely this drone can show you more. Might it stay in touch to do so?”

“Um, of course! I have a number… a phone number! N-not like a drone ID or anything! Heheh, um, here, aheh…” She grabbed a serviette from the center of the table and hurriedly scribbled her phone number down. 3338 scoped it up with its elegant fingers, memorised it into its database and then settled it back down.

“3338//Flirtatiously :: Number recorded. It’ll text you this evening, Molly. Again, this has been an absolute pleasure. See you again soon.”

And with that, the drone departed, the crowd barging apart to make way for it. Molly just stayed sat at the table, somewhat awestruck by the whole experience. There was too much to think about, a whole new world was opening up before her. She didn’t even notice as the sun came out outside.