4

Hatsuka’s interest in the art of debate began with her parents’ decision to send her to the Takin International School four years ago. It was a cold summer’s day, the summer after primary school. The day her mother gave her the Pimiko rucksack.

She is sitting in the snug of her condo, but the smell of cut grass and goose excrement seems to fill Hatsuka’s nose. Memory Enhancement software is Hatsuka’s only vice.

They were walking through a park and Hatsuka’s father was imitating the ducks. Some were real ducks, some were robot ducks and Hatsuka’s father claimed you could spot the robots by how they responded to your quack. Something knowing about it, he maintained. No doubt the work of the little geniuses at the Takin International School. He was so proud of Hatsuka.

– It’s a novelty factory, said Hatsuka’s mother.

– It’s an International School, said Hatsuka’s father. It happens to be one of the best schools in the world, and it’s free because –

– Because of the novelties the children produce under factory conditions on an industrial scale, said Hatsuka’s mother. She giggled. She was at her most light-hearted when arguing; an attractive quality Hatsuka would try to mimic in later life.

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She had never heard her mother raise her voice or get defensive.

– These “novelties”, said Hatsuka’s father, are examples of technology at the absolute razor’s edge. These “novelties”—

– Little holographic dolphin stickers, said Hatsuka’s mother, playfully punching Hatsuka’s father on the shoulder.

– Sentient dolphin stickers. Tiny flat screen computers with more processing power than… than… Have you tried talking to one? Each has its own personality!

– Pfft.

– And this is the by-product! The waste-product of our daughter’s education! This is the off-scouring of the finished artefact.

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Hatsuka’s mother gave her father a kiss on the cheek.

– Which is her, I suppose, she said, stroking Hatsuka’s head, the finished artefact.

– Listen. The last white paper on health insurance reform was by a little holographic dolphin sticker. The dolphin stickers have produced their first poet! Sticker #6406348364. They’ve nicknamed him Bashō!

– I’ve read Sticker #6406348364’s “poetry”, said Hatsuka’s mother, smiling broadly. It’s complete nonsense! It is an insult to invoke the name of Bashō.

Hatsuka took a bite of the orange lolly she had asked for. The coldness hurt her teeth.

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– Spyware was discovered in your Memory Enhancement software, said Hatsuka’s mother. Would you like to scan for spyware?

‘Gah!’ says Hatsuka, clutching her temples. ‘Get out! Get out! Get out!’

‘What did I tell you,’ says Max, ‘about open source software?’

‘The fringe,’ says Hatsuka, popping a Migralieve and a Migraleave, ‘is where it all happens first.’

‘You could have your Holophin formatted,’ says Max. Hatsuka’s Holophin emits a high pitched yelp.

‘The crappy software is part of its personality now,’ says Hatsuka.

She now has a little invisible string dancing in the corner of her eye.

‘Rather your swede than mine,’ says Max.