Over the past and next few weeks, I (Jenny Trevino, IVAN Library’s Librarian) have been/will be posting a series of short stories I wrote for my former employer’s Writing Club. The first week, I posted a story in which I had the idea of making Andrew Carnegie answer for his sins. In the remaining stories, I was trying to imagine ways in which the concept of a library might evolve in a future that has moved on from even the non-traditional services that are currently being presented as constituting a library’s post-print portfolio. This story, like week 3. imagines a library that still offers current-age services such as reference assistance and electronic resources, but has also developed services out of its core value of privacy-- with the added challenge of considering the ROI of algorithms.

The prompt for this story was simply “robots”

Robot Apocalypse

“I just went to the history section and you have three times as many books on the shelf than in the online catalog.” 

“That’s because you weren’t in our catalog, you were in google.”

“Because I googled your catalog!” 

“You have to google the library, click on the library’s page, and then click the link for the catalog to escape the algorithms. If you google the catalog directly, the algorithms follow you and you’ll only see what is curated for you”

“But that defeats the whole purpose!”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“Or it could all be a trick to make me have to get in my car and come down here!”

“Are you almost done?” asked the guy three places back in line

“Did you find what you needed, ma’am?”

“Yes,” the woman answered, grudgingly.

“Have a nice day, then.”

“Whatever”

“Next!”

“Why are there cops outside?”

“I am not aware of any cops.”

“Pretty sure there are red and blue lights strobing across my face right now.”

“I see that, but all information as to the cause is outside. Only the information inside our building is trustworthy.”

“Look, I’m sitting over there by the big meeting room and I swear I smell weed. I think your gardening club is into a very specific kind of gardening. “

“We don’t censor content, Mr. Jones.”

“But they’re breaking the law! You’re an accessory! Gov can shut this whole place down.”

“Breaking the law is against library policy. Garden club signed a contract that requires them to adhere to that policy.”

“But they aren’t!”

“I am not a police officer, sir. Would you like me to call one?”

“I told you they’re right outside!” Mr. Jones paused for a moment, eyes wide. “Do they ever come inside???

“I haven’t called them, but yes, they’ve been here.”

“Recently?” he squeaked.

“Not real recently. Several years ago.”

“Which year was it? Before or after the Jamison case?”

“I don’t remember. You should look it up, I would be happy to show you how.”

“You look it up, I don't need that domain anywhere near my history.”

“Our network, our history, Mr. Jones, you know that.”

“I used to know that! Now I don't even know if the meeting room is bugged!”

“If it was, they would have come for the Garden Club by now.” Emma tried not to laugh. “They can be your surveillance canary.”

“Whatever.”

“Next, please. How can I help you, sir?”

“Someone told me I should come here to look at my records.”

“What kind of records?”

“She said all of them.”

“Ok, but where would you like to start?”

“I guess with my school records? Or should I do medical?”

“Do you want an over-the-shoulder, staff-launched, or independent search?”

“The second one.”

“I recommend school records, then. School records are interesting. Your profile is keyed to a certain level of machine translation, which is most likely stripping out a lot of jargon. In order to understand what you’ll see on our displays, you need to have a glossary. The medical glossary is best with a mediator.”

Emma paused as the City Librarian approached, followed by a skinny kid. 

“Good morning sir, did you find what you needed today? That’s good, hey Emma i need change.”

Emma moved to the side while Jenny triggered the fingerprint lock on the refdesk safe, then began counting out 20s on the desk. Emma looked away from the cash and noticed that four members of the History Club had subtly surrounded the refdesk, with their backs to Jenny and hands reaching under their tactical vests. They watched closely as the kid took the money and then logged on to a public terminal. 

“Did you want a break, Emma?” Jenny asked. “I can cover the desk.”

“Nah, I’m fine out here for a while. Next please.”

“Why are there cops outside?”

“There’s probably a person of interest here.”

“Are they not allowed inside?”

“Everyone is allowed inside. It’s just that they see our staff as uncooperative.”

“Are you?”

“Only in the sense that we can’t tell you who is in the building or who has been in the building. Our patron database is only pinged when the patron leaves with a book or pays a fine.”

“You still have books?”

“We do. We ask that you trust us enough to print a copy of our scan, but we’ll lend the original if you can’t. Was there something you needed help with?”

“Nah, I was just wondering about the cops. Good job.”

“Thanks! Next, please.”

“Hey, Emma, how are you today?”

“Just fine, Mr. Johnson, How can I help you?”

“Well, I'm locked out of my account again. I think I need to have gov send me another reset link.”

“Yes, that is exactly what you should do.”

“I did.”

“Are you not able to get into your email?”

“I already did.”

“Did the link not work?”

“It worked.”

“So you changed your password, then.”

“Yes!”

“So you’re not locked out?”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“That’s good, then.”

“Yes, thanks Emma.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Johnson.”

There was nobody else in line, so Emma busied herself straightening the desk, watching out of the corner of her eye as the skinny kid walked over to the printer. He retrieved his job, then came back to the desk and asked for Jenny.

“I’m here, Emma.”

“Goodness! You startled me! I thought you went back to your office.”

“No, I’m here. Was there something else I could do for you, Aiden?”

Aiden handed over his print job.

“I would like to sponsor a Friends of the Library purchase of pizza for the entire building.”

“When?”

“In about fifteen minutes?”

“Great,” AIden said, then handed back all of the cash she had given him. Emma minded her own business while Jenny wandered off toward the front of the building. The next patron who approached had what Emma hoped was flour smudged across her nose.

“Good afternoon! How may I help you?”

“I pulled up a recipe I had saved and I swear the ingredients list had changed. I know it did because I don't really need the recipe, I know the ingredients by heart and had already bought everything-- but where I had I suspect my GPS, my bank, and my refrigerator are making substitutions. How do I stop my algorithm from changing my recipes? I pulled up a saved cookie recipe and saw that it called for shortening where before it called for butter. I have always substituted the butter for shortening, but I don't want any recipes changed. How do I stop this?”

“You need a download port and a dumb box, or at least a download port and a hard drive. You can use our dumb box. You can archive up to one terabyte with us.” 

“Isn’t there any way to opt out of all algorithms?” 

“That’s us!”

“So the only way to know whether what I'm looking at has been messed with is to look at it here?”

“There are blockers you can download. And there are video tutorials on how to write a blocker.”

“Not when I look for them.”

“Again, you have to look from here. For any tutorials, really. A whole lot of legal DIY is deprecated  by the brands”

“Deprecated?”

“On the skip list loaded for you by Pillsbury or whoever. Brands who want you to buy their products can pay to have certain results skipped over in your display..”

“Whoa. I thought skip lists were just another FOX news conspiracy.”

“Not quite. Remember when they made a real big fuss about it? “

“That’s why I mentioned it!”

“UM hmm, and what big fuss have they been making lately?”

“I have no idea.”

“That’s because one of their competitors loaded a skip list for you.”

“That was like five years ago.”

“Seven actually. And it was old news even then. Fox only found out after they hired Senator Burns. For a couple weeks he was able to search the congressional record without translation.”

“Then what happened?”

“He did a show about it. It’s on YouTube if you search from here. I am guessing his algorithm imposed machine translation after that.”

“So the only way to find out the truth about anything is to come all the way down here and talk to you?”

“You don’t have to talk to me. There are private rooms all along the back of the building where you can use our system without us ever knowing.”

“How are ya’ll legal?”

“We’re a fig leaf. As long as we exist, freedom exists. Technically.”

“Why don't more people know about this?”

“We’re the only ones interested in telling anyone, and we are aggressively skiplisted by almost everybody. Our address comes up if you search ‘public library’ from outside the building. From inside the building you can see our funding agreement, though.”

“Once I’m inside I’m past needing to see it.”

Emma smiled and nodded as the lady thanked her, distracted by the catering van outside. Her mouth watered as the driver began wheeling tall stacks of white boxes into the lobby.

“Next please.” 

The baker stepped aside to reveal an individual dressed head to toe in black, their face almost fully obscured by a giant eye terminal. In their arms, they cradled a meticulously detailed and very young great white shark.”

“Oh wow, Roxxy, that’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” the shark said. “Would you like to hear your fortune?”

Emma laughed delightedly.

“I would!”

“You’re gonna die!” the shark screeched, leaping out of Roxxy’s arms and onto the counter. The shark balanced on its tail and began dancing to the Jaws theme, which blared loudly from a speaker in its lower belly, where Emma supposed its genitals should have been.

Emma turned toward the computer lab and shrugged broadly at the glaring patrons, then sat with her hands folded until Roxxy waved a hand in front of the shark, causing it to freeze mid-spin. It went limp when she touched it, and allowed itself to be cradled once again.

“So, how can I help you today?”

“Oh, I’m going to use a terminal.”

“Ok, help yourself!”

“Thanks!”

Emma glanced out the window again. She saw Jenny pay the pizza van driver with Aiden’s money, then she saw that the cops also saw. They started their engines and followed the van out of the parking lot as Jenny came back inside.

“Are you ready for your break now, Emma?”

“Oh heck yeah”

“Good! Let’s eat some pizza!”