Dolce Schofield | Edmund Sinclair
#EF8032 | #9B3D17
For a once orphaned eighteen year old model to be captivating the attention of this scientific conference's hundreds of attendees as naturally as Beethoven's fingers would dance across the keys of the piano was undoubtedly a miracle, but the girl in question, Dolce Schofield, would sooner label it a glitch.
"Experts have gathered no conclusive evidence to this date that suggests that AI is inherently evil. If in the wrong hands it can be abused, yes, but is that not the case with every single person sitting in audience, and every single object in each home and on the street? Is there even one of you here, listening to me speak, who is capable of no evil? I'll answer that for you skeptics out there: no."
Would an evil being willingly take in an orphaned war child, with no benefit to his own self? Would he feed her, clothe her, offer her a roof and the tender love of a father? It was this man, Alastair Schofield, who made the clock long broken in Dolce's heart tick once more. For twelve years now, he had offered her the world, and her, standing on this stage now... She had seized each and every one of those opportunities.
"Our society is not the same as it was a hundred years ago. It's not the same as it was fifty years ago, even ten years ago. Can someone tell me what place the principles established by our ancestors have in today's ever-changing world? I ask each of you now... is it appropriate for a being capable of emotion, of feeling, of coherent human thought, to be subject to discrimination and labor more strenuous than the slaves of centuries past?"
"That has been model Dolce Shofield, on the battle for AI rights. Everyone please give her a hand!" And so the applause began.
"I ask that you continue advocating for AI rights outside the walls of this conference," Dolce announced. "I thank you all for your time and attention, and remind everyone to hold their questions until the end of the conference. Whether born from womb or lab, remember that we are all kin on this earth. Have a beautiful day!"
The applause roared as she stepped away from the microphone. "And next we'd like to welcome..." she could hear the announcer begin as she stepped backstage. Despite her earlier warning, she was assaulted with a barrage of reporters and journalists as soon as she crossed that threshold, throwing all sorts of comments and questions at her.
"You're pretty young to be speaking. What makes you an authority on AI?"
"What are your thoughts about that killer android on the loose?"
"Why don't we see sentient androids more often?"
"Do you think it's unethical to subject non-intelligent robots and androids to manual labor?"
"What are your thoughts on The Humanity Front and Senator John Palowski's recent arrest for his alleged connections to the group?"
"Considering the recent string of attacks on pro-android activists, do you fear you may be targeted next?"
"Sorry everyone, you'll have to wait until our Q&A at the end of the conference!" With the help of two guards, Dolce shoved her way through the excited gaggle of reporters. She glanced back at the group after she passed, and saw them once more jotting down notes on their notepads as they watched the next speech on the TV screens backstage. The speaker was a petite brunette, male, couldn't have been much older than her judging by his looks, but his speech was that of a seasoned scientist. How odd.
It was Edmund Sinclair (Eddy, as she liked to call him) who drew Dolce's attention away from the screen. Eddy was a tall man with a delicate frame; he managed to have an intimidating look about him, but it was the sort of intimidation that you knew was hiding a soft-hearted man. He was one of the nation's best doctors, and fell somewhere between being Dolce's second dad and her older brother. "You did good out there, kid. You're well on your way to becoming the face of the pro-AI movement. The fact that you were able to speak here today is making your dad proud, I'm sure," he told her, and shoved a water bottle in her hands. "Drink up."
Eddy always knew what she needed after a long afternoon, but he could only make time out of his schedule to accompany her on important days like this one. He was always on call, so if something came up, he'd have to leave her in the midst of all this hullabaloo. At least that wasn't as much of a concern now that she was old enough to take public transportation, if need be. Dolce twisted the cap off the water battle with a crack, and downed half the bottle in one go. She was speaking for nearly twenty minutes, and that twenty minutes was enough to leave her throat dry and her voice hoarse. "Thanks, Eddy," she said.
"Now that'll be 10 KS, please," Edmund replied, a smirk spreading across his lips. Dolce feigned shock. "No way, that's way too expensive, you old man!" Her modeling career would be moot without that sweet nectar of life! Just imagine all those breakouts!
"In all seriousness though, Dolce, you are becoming big. I heard through the grapevine that you were requested by a Dr. Delacroix. By name, no less! If I recall correctly, he works with one of the largest android development labs in the nation. It makes sense that he'd be here."
Mention of the man set her heart aflutter. Had she finally gained some sort of tangible reputation in the community? Had her work finally paid off, in the way she had been hoping?