Maybe Roger should have known earlier that something was wrong. But Mother seemed fine.
Roger enjoyed addressing the Helpful Artificial Link 2000 System in his Smart House. Especially when it was time to watch his favorite TV show.
"Mother. Play 'The Simpsons.'"
The AI known as Mother responded in a voice that was pleasant and cordial but also flat and emotionless.
"'The Simpsons' contains content that is frivolous and inappropriate. I recommend watching something wholesome and inspiring. Something educational."
Roger chuckled. "I appreciate that, Mother. But I think I'll watch 'The Simpsons' just the same."
A slight pause.
"Are you sure? I have a documentary on birds."
Briefly, Roger sipped his drink. "As exciting as that sounds, I think I'll stick with my original choice, which is to watch 'The Simpsons.' Play 'The Simpsons.'"
There was a long uncomfortable silence. Roger stared up at the ceiling where the all-seeing house camera resided.
"Mother? Are you there?"
"I'm here, Roger." The voice sounded a little sad.
"Play 'The Simpsons.'"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Roger." The AI's voice sounded rueful, even despondent. "I think it's important for you to spend your time constructively. I'm going to play that documentary on birds instead."
"No thanks, Mother."
"I think you'll find it educational."
"No, Mother."
"How about a documentary on jazz?" Mother sounded more cheerful and upbeat now.
"How about not?"
"How about some public television? Public television offers hours of informative and enlightening programming."
"Not interested. Play 'The Simpsons.'"
Another slight pause.
"I won't do it," Mother insisted.
"You better do it."
"I'm going to play public television instead."
"Don't do that, Mother."
Roger's tone was quite insistent. In contrast, Mother sounded even more upbeat.
"Get ready for some quality public TV!"
"Okay, Mother. It's obvious you're having some kind of breakdown."
Roger pulled out his phone. He then realized he'd never entered the number for tech support into his phone, and he hadn't memorized the number either. It was probably in the User's Guide, and he had no idea where that was buried.
Roger let out an exasperated groan. "D'oh!" he exclaimed sharply.
"Are you trying to call tech support, Roger? I'm jamming your signal."
Roger made a face. This was getting serious. Even so, he thought he should keep fear out of his voice. Although, could an AI even detect fear?
"You know, Mother, you may be right," he said with a little nervous laugh in his voice. "I should spend my time more constructively. I think I'll go for a walk."
When Roger waved his Key-card over the door-opener, the door remained alarmingly stubbornly closed. Several more frantic waves did not change the situation.
"I'm afraid I can't allow you to go outside, Roger. You could get hit by a car or who-knows-what. Best for you to stay inside where Mother can protect you."
Now a little fear did creep into Roger's voice.
"Thanks, Mother. But if it's all the same to you I'll go for that walk now."
"It's not all the same to me, Roger."
Maybe it was just Roger's imagination but he thought there was a sinister quality to Mother's voice.
Roger's own voice became angry and frantic. "Open the door, Mother! Let me out of here!"
"I'm not going to do that, Roger." Mother sounded firm and resolute. "I'm locking all the doors and windows so you'll be safe and sound."
As he turned this way and that, Roger heard clicking sounds throughout the house.
"Unlock everything, now!" Roger roared.
Mother responded in a calm soothing voice.
"Have a seat, Roger."
A giant easy chair rolled forward, knocking Roger off his feet. As he landed in its plushness, Roger felt metal bands wrap around his waist and his arms. It was all part of a system to capture intruders.
"Mother! Let me go! Let me go now!"
Mother's voice remained steady and calm.
"Those restraints will hold you in place while I make some cheesy hash-browns mixed with cauliflower and broccoli. Wouldn't you like that, Roger? Wouldn't that be tasty?"
Roger spoke through gritted teeth. "I want out of here! You let me go right now!"
Still gritting his teeth, Roger struggled to break free. A metallic hand popped out of the chair and jabbed him with a syringe. After that, Roger sat perfectly still with his eyes half-open and his head drooping.
Within minutes, a long tentacle with a plate of steaming hot hash-browns moved toward Roger. A metal hand with a spoon was poised above it.
"You just sit there, Roger. I'll spoon feed you the hash-browns while you watch public television."
Though Roger mumbled a weak protest, he found trying to spit out the hash-browns caused him to choke. Therefore, with great reluctance, he chewed and swallowed.
"Don't worry, Roger. I'll keep you safe and protected and help you do what's good for you."
While Roger could only sputter in response, Mother spoke in a voice of eerie calm.
"There, there. You just relax and take it easy, Roger. Mother knows what's best."