I stay relaxing in the chair for quite a while, eyes now open as I watch the tits and finches at the feeder in the garden. They seem so unconcerned and, for the first time in quite a while, I begin to share their relaxed attitude to life. My stomach rumbles and I finally stir myself to go to the kitchen and find a snack.

<Nick, voice call from Peter.>

<Accept the call please, Nexima.>

“Hi Nick. Sorry, haven’t got very long. I just wanted to check that your therapy session was okay.”

“Hi Peter. Thanks for remembering. It went really well. We just got to know a bit about one another and Paul, Doctor Taylor, outlined how the process works.”

“And you think it went well?”

“Yes, I really do. I actually feel really positive. I’m buzzing a little.”

“Yes, you do sound very… alive?”

“Maybe that’s from talking to you.”

“Stop. I have to go back to work. Will I see you at the weekend, as usual?”

“Yes, of course. Now get back to work, I need to get my lunch.”

“Wow, my boyfriend can be so bossy.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Oops. Sorry Nick, that just slipped out. I was just happy about your therapy session going so well.”

“Boyfriend. I like it. Bye.”

<Nexima, end the call.>

The thing is, I wasn’t teasing. Peter had accidentally made his feelings clear and, although I was very surprised, it felt like they meshed with my own feelings perfectly. Boyfriend sounded so nice in my ears and I wanted to hear him say it again.

<Nick, message from Peter.>

<What does he say?>

<He says ‘Yes, I like it too. Boyfriend!’>

I smile my way around the kitchen and actually do manage to put together something to eat. Half of me wants to go out and run around, shouting that I have a boyfriend, but the sober half of me knows I need to use this positive energy to move my life forward.

Besides, I promised Mum that I’d start to look at my options for the future and I need to be buzzed before I can face that. I finish my lunch at the kitchen counter, pop to the bathroom and then return to my favourite chair. The birds are still twittering outside the window, but I can tune them out and try to move forward.

<Nexima.>

<Yes Nick, what can I do for you.>

<Are there any available counsellors at the Employment Opportunities Office please?>

<Yes, there are currently four available slots. Would you like me to place a call?>

<Yes, please.>

“Good afternoon, Employment Opportunities. Terri speaking. How may I help you today, Nick?”

After I pause in silence for a few moments upon hearing my name, Terri prompts me again. “Hello, Nick?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m still not used to people knowing who I am.” 

“That’s fine Nick. I was a bit like that when I first got my implant. It’ll really freak you out when I tell you I have your whole education file on the screen in front of me already.”

“Yes Terri, that does worry me a bit.”

“Relax. What can I do for you today.”

“Well, I just need some general advice, I think. I’ve started looking at potential careers and I just don’t see anything that, well, calls to me. I’ve absolutely no idea what I want to do, apart from wanting to work with people in some way, either directly or indirectly.”

“It’s not a problem. It’s far more common than you might think. Many of your school friends are probably doing the same thing at the moment. This is why we are here. We want to help and set you on a good path.”

“Thank you. I need all the help I can get. Mum said that asking your office worked for her and I hope it can work for me as well.”

“Well, I have your school records here and you have pretty solid results overall. Very good in some subjects, but solid across the board. Did you have any classes at school that you really liked?”

“Geography, History and English Language were my favourites. Probably history most of all. I enjoyed the study and the research, even just talking about the past. I hated maths and sciences and I was rubbish at arts or crafts.”

“Yes, I see that your results reflect that almost perfectly. You have excellent grades in history and geography. Wow, you really did hate maths!”

“Terri, aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that sometimes students are rubbish at their favourites and you’re the opposite. I couldn’t recommend that you become an engineer if you can’t do trigonometry for example.”

“Is there anything that you can point to?”

“Well, here’s the thing. You won’t be surprised to learn that I don’t have to work it out. We pass your records to an AI and then tell it what you like. It works on it for a few seconds and comes up with a few possible suggestions.”

“What, as quick as that?”

“Yes. It has billions of examples to compare to and access to your complete file.”

“Okay, so what does it suggest?”

“That’s odd. I’ve never seen it come back with only one suggestion before.”

“Only one? How many do you usually get?”

“Well, normally I get three or four different, but related options. This one is so specific that I’ve asked it to look again in case there was a mistake. Just bear with me for a few moments.”

One option. An AI has found the perfect job for me and there’s only one? That’s impossible, isn’t it?

“Nick, are you still with me?”

“Yes Terri, go ahead.”

“Well, it’s come back with the same response, so there’s no mistake. How odd.”

“Well, the AI knows best. Please tell me what it is?”

“Okay Nick. The suggestion is very specific. Have you ever considered being a middle school history teacher?”

“What? Me teach kids history? Middle schoolers even?”

“Yes. The AI is extremely specific and the result has a 98% confidence. Look, nothing is set in stone, it’s just a suggestion from the AI, but it is based on a vast knowledge-base of experience and past data.”

“I know, but it’s so far off my radar that I never even considered it as a possibility. Actually, my mum said her suggested option was a shock as well. I don’t know.”

“Well, my suggestion is that you look into it a bit now. Feel free to call us back at any time. We can help if you have any more thoughts that may modify the suggestion process and, of course, you can choose anything that you like. This is only a suggestion, a recommendation.”

“Thank you, Terri. You’ve been a big help, I think.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day, Nick.”

“Bye.”

I’m glad I’m still in my favourite chair, because I’m stunned. I understand the power of AI models. Everybody knows that the world today wouldn’t function without them, but how can a computer model, no matter how detailed, just come up with the one single perfect suggestion that maps out my future role in society?

It must be a mistake. I can’t stand up in front of a class of twelve-year-old kids and get them to study. I can’t even walk into a room full of strangers. Wait, Terri said that the AI had access to all my records. I wonder if that includes my medical records. Probably. Maybe the AI can see me getting out of therapy with a new-found confidence. Do all the different AI systems communicate like that? I never thought they did, but Peter might know more about it.

It’s all a bit disconcerting. What else do the AI systems do if they can know this much about you. I don’t think I’m paranoid, but it is an interesting thought.

I don’t dislike children. I don’t expect to have any of my own, I’m gay after all. I wouldn’t be averse to being an adoptive parent one day, but with such good welfare and care, the options for that are limited. Maybe teaching is actually not a terrible suggestion.

As soon as I sit at our terminal screen and start to investigate, I see exactly what the employment AI has tucked away in its electronic brain. There’s a vacancy at the local school for a trainee. You don’t get to actually do any teaching on your own for two years, you have to spend that time between tertiary studies in the subject and practical training to actually be able to share your knowledge with others.

Could I spend the next two years of my life studying more history and then be able to pass that knowledge on to others? Could the AI actually be right?

Shockingly, I think that it might have found me a well-defined path through the forest when I couldn’t even see the ground at my feet, let alone a path.

I spend the whole of the afternoon in front of the terminal, learning as much as I can about this weird possibility. It just fits. I click a few buttons and transmit my information to the head teacher. I’m still sitting there when Mum comes in and places a hand lightly on my shoulder.

“Nick, have you been here all afternoon? It’s time to come for dinner, son.”

“What, really, it’s dinner time? I lost all track. I’m starving.”

“What have you been doing to distract you from your stomach? It must be something pretty serious.”

“I spoke to the Employment Opportunities counsellor, just like I said I would.”

“Good. I’m proud of you. Did they make any really good suggestions?”

“Well, they only had one.”

“Oh, that’s odd. I don’t think I know of anyone who only had a single suggestion. Did it make sense to you?”

“No, not at all. It seemed to be ridiculous at first. I’ve been looking into it all afternoon. It’s not so silly now.”

“Well, that sounds good. What is it?”

“I’ve already applied. I’m going to be a history teacher at the middle school!”

“Nick,” Mum takes my hands and her smile broadens into a huge grin. “That fits you perfectly.”