Vignette - Drone Perspective

With this Vignette I was trying to convey some sense of what it’s like to be a drone. I used 2nd person as a device. Yeah, everyone hated this one also. I believe the term “bossy” was used to describe 2nd person by one reader. Of course, after we took it out one of the most common questions was, “What are drones really like? Are they smart? How are they different from the High-Functioning.” Meh.

You are almost to the end of the row of chira berry plants. More of them are ripe today than yesterday. Two more plants in this row with ripe berries and the decision tree will demand a first harvest. You examine each plant carefully, touching the furry leaves looking for signs of wilt, blight, or infestation. At the end of the row you stand from the rolling seat and stretch. First arms over head, hands clasped twisting side to side. Then touching each toe with the opposite hand. You push back on your fingers stretching the tendons of your wrist, then elevate and lower your shoulders, moving your head in the four-point compass rose. Stretches complete, you move to the next row. 

Chira berries are your specialty. You have good vision for color and detail. The plants are delicate. Only reanimate hands can harvest the sweet-tart fruits. Bots, no matter how carefully designed and programmed crush the soft flesh. The berries only grow here on Tir Na Nog, in the shade of the canabas trees. Your supervisors praise you for your quick and gentle hands, for your familiarity with plants in all their phases. No VI can identify ripe berries or sick plants as quickly or effectively as you. The rows and rows of low growing plants are where you prefer to be. It is more pleasing to be among the plants and beneficial insects than inside the domes where the only work is to clean or carefully pack the harvested fruits.

The rolling seat squeaks lightly as you go down the row. You use the data pad to notify maintenance that seat 3128 requires lubrication, non-urgent. On the 4th plant in the row you notice three red spots on the underside of a leaf. This configuration is unfamiliar to you. You know 47 abnormalities and which ones present a threat to surrounding plants. The spots are too bumpy for irritated stoma. It is not, to your weather eye, organic damage cause by crushing or other injury. Not the work of chewing pests. You blink and review the decision tree for unusual marking or coloration on plant. Options flow across the screen, reducing as you select the correct paths. 

<<Is the irregularity of unusual color?>>

You select ‘yes’

     <<What color set is closest to the irregularity?>>

     Yellow/orange/brown

     Red/Rust/Scarlet

     Other

                 You select ‘Red/Rust/Scarlet

     <<Is the irregularity confined to one instance?>>

                 You select ‘no’

     <<Are the irregular instances clustered?>>

                 You select ‘yes’

     <<How many clusters?>>

                 2

                 3

                 4 or more

There is only one cluster. You examine the leaf again. Did you mistake the nature of the irregularity? No, the spots appear close together. You snap an image of the irregularity and signal the supervisor. You move on to the next plant and down the row. At the end of the row you carry out your stretches. You are unsure how to proceed. The supervisor has not responded. You return to the plant with the three spots and examine the leaf again. Scinitilitis can spread quickly among chiru berries. Protocol demands immediate isolation of any plants suspected of Scinitilitis. It is highest priority to prevent contamination of the other crops. You know the signs well. This is not a normal presentation, but variation and mutation are known to occur. Should you move on to the next row and wait for the supervisor? Should you uproot the plant and signal isolation for the surrounding rows. You do not have a protocol for this irregularity. The supervisor will give you instructions, but she had not come. 

You walk back to the end of the row to begin on the next and stop. You walk back to the plant and examine the leaf again. You check the decision tree, but you still cannot find a resolution. There is a high pitch whining as you walk back to the end of the row. The supervisor has not come. You check the messenger to make sure you sent the image and the assistance request. The data has been received. You walk back to the plant. Back and forth, plant to rolling seat to plant and back. The whining noise grows louder. 

The implant in your wrist vibrates. You look down. An orange light flashes under the skin where the implant lives. You tap the light in rhythm with the flashing and feel the calming wave of serotonin. Then a blue light flashes under your skin. The whining stops. You sit on the ground and wait for help.

Without a task, you are captured by the dappled light of the setting sun streaming through the canabas trees. Particles of dust and pollen drift about in the beam of light. You are calm. It is pleasant to sit in the fields and watch the drifting motes. A beetle crawls across your shoe. These type of horned beetles eat pests that would harm the chira berries. You gently herd the insect to a nearby plant, out of the empty dirt row where it might be crushed under foot. You watch the beetle until it disappears under the mat of chira leaves. Your attention returns to the sunbeam slowly moving across the plot.

The supervisor comes. She seems agitated. “Jess, why are you sitting here?” she asks. She calls you Jess instead of your number designation. It is inefficient as there are thirty three other drones named “Jess” or “Jessica” in this chira farm. 

You stand and point to the plant. “I cannot designate this irregularity, Supervisor Alta. Should it be quarantined?”

The supervisor looks at the plant and back at you. “How long have you been waiting?”

You look at your data pad for the current time and the time at which you entered the decision tree. “Just over three hours ago, Supervisor Alta.”

“Oh goodness,” the supervisor sighs. You know this to mean she is upset. 

“Have I distressed you, Supervisor Alta?” You do not want to upset your supervisor. She is kind to you and the other drones. She praises your work often and uses blemished and bruised fruits not suitable for shipping to make a juice sometimes. She gives you and the others sips of the juice. Not enough to make you ill. You enjoy the sweet and tart flavor. 

“No, no, Jess. I just got hung up in processing. I’m sorry you were left sitting here so long. That must have been upsetting.”

“I do not like being without direction,” you admit but the time in the sun was pleasant, once your implant ordered you to wait.

“I know Jess. I’ll take care of this plant. You go ahead and finish your rows. Looks like we’re close to first harvest.”

“Yes,” you say walk down the aisle to resume your work. “Supervisor,” you say, turning back as you reach the end. “Will you update the decision tree with the new irregularity?”

“Yes, Jess, as soon as I can. If you find any more like this please flag them and carry on with your inspection. I will see they are classified.”

She is a good supervisor. She knows you do not like uncertainty.