A CHAOSMANOR STORY

You might not remember Lucy.

Not Lucy Van Pelt, the “fussbudget” IBM PC. No, Lucy our abuelita; Mom and Dad’s housekeeper, Lucy.

Lucy, the only person keeping Roberta from murdering Dr. P in his sleep at ChaosManor.

Lucy, from El Salvador who somehow kept a 16 room house, four male kids, various Huskies and cats, and an onslaught of visitors to Chaos Manor happy and clean for 32 years. God rest her soul.  This one is for you.

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It’s said that Robots are expected to become far more common outside the workplace. The Wall Street Journal says AI will  also change many jobs beyond recognition. … Even as it transforms many jobs and creates millions more, there’s no question that lots of workers will be displaced in the process. But that doesn’t have to lead to higher unemployment. How loyal is your Rumba, after all?

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This story is set around 1993.

BYTE magazine is going strong and Los Angeles is hosting the first real Artificial Intelligence conference.  There’s buzz throughout the LA Convention Center as no one really knows what AI will bring beyond the predictions of Arthur C Clark and perhaps Marvin Minsky.  “Machine Learning” is not part of the common lexicon.  The timing seems off at the time… Minsky said:

1967 “Within a generation … the problem of creating ‘artificial intelligence’ will substantially be solved”  By 1970, he said in LIFE magazine “In from three to eight years we will have a machine with the general intelligence of an average human being.”

Jerry was always intrigued. In fact, this AI Conference may have been the ignition for Starswarm (1998).–one of our very favorite family stories and a Heinlein-esque young adult novel about a kid named Kip with an AI implant

(GO BUY Starswarm (1998) AT AMAZON IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS IN A WHILE.)

And yes, dear fans and readers 12 years earlier than this story, Jerry and Mr. Niven  had vague ideas about  computer implants in Oath of Fealty (1981) –but that’s not relevant.

Like all smart Science Fiction authors, Jerry knows he can get research and insight from industry experts just by offering free food and drink with an informal party back at CHAOSMANOR. “If you don’t know what the heck is happening, surround yourself with experts and pay them compliments,” he would say.

My job? Go to FEDCO and pick up a six foot sandwich, lay in a bunch of chips and place four cases of Newcastle Brown Ale in the garage fridge.  Let the booze do the work…

The party is kind of jumping with about 100 guests in the early afternoon.  Poul Anderson’s daughter is holding court conspicuous with her great hair and twinkle in her eye.  Jerry is showing off his new computers up in the great hall.  Alex is greeting people as they come in the front rooms and playing host.

Understand these guests are intellectuals, computer and graphic professionals, even a few LASFS go-ers excited about the new frontier of computer science. Some are dressed,  some shaved, some gave no thought; although there was only one guest wearing slippers with racing tape on both feet, but Dan McLean was gifted and forgiven.

Lucy and I are in the tiny kitchen when in walks four characters that are out of place, even in this place.

They are each wearing tie-dyed robes, and these round rose-colored glasses.  Their hair is tied back in a bun.  They are animated and looking for the good stuff.  One of the leaders wears his name badge from the conference “Baba Ram Dass” it says. He ignores me and begins speaking in spanish to Lucy as he examines the FEDCAL bottle of generic SCOTCH we would soon decant into the Chevas Regal bottle. I think he asked:

“Do you work for Dr. Pournelle?”

“How long have you worked here?”

“How does he treat you?”

My spanish is rusty.  Lucy never conjugated her verbs.  And these guys are clearly crashing a party looking for free booze.  I walk out to sit on the front stoop, slipping a Newcastle into my pocket as I hear one of the other hippies ask:

¿El jefe le ofrece seguridad social?

If you know how, a plastic Bic lighter works well as a bottle opener.  I no sooner got the cap off when out the front door of ChaosManor runs the four tie-dyed goof balls in terror.  Their robes flowed right past me and down the street  toward their van.

In their wake trails Lucy, our four foot ten Mayan housekeeper holding a 24 inch kitchen knife screaming:

“COMMUNISTA! COMMUNISTA!”

I gathered that Timothy Leary and his gang had pissed off the wrong housekeeper.

That was not very intelligent.

 

 

PS: As you can imagine, Lucy never had to worry about her job in the ChaosManor household.  She retired years later when she wanted to do so…and yes, she enjoyed full citizenship and social security.