The Camera™
The salesman’s name was Martin Hale, and he wore clean boots to the construction site because he always did. It mattered to him, even now.
The house was still a skeleton with the studs, exposed wiring, sunlight spilling through where windows would eventually be. The Camera™ hung from a temporary beam at the center of it all, a matte-black sphere with no obvious lens. It hummed softly, like something alive but asleep.
The foreman, Rick, stood beside Martin with his arms crossed. He was wearing the “optional” AR goggles, translucent and barely noticeable, like expensive safety glasses.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rick said, nodding up at the device. “Whole place, one view. No blind spots.”
Martin smiled. “Once it’s calibrated, it should map everything down to the inch. Motion, heat, biometric signals. You’ll see the dashboards populate in real time.”
Rick laughed. “Oh, I already do. First thing I check when I wake up.” He tapped the side of his goggles. “I can see every crew member at once. Heart rate, pace, micro-breaks. Makes you feel like you’re finally leading, you know?”
Below them, workers moved through the frame of the house. One hammered, another measured, another carried a bundle of boards across the floor.
Rick tilted his head slightly. “Hmm.”
Martin waited.
“Bathroom break’s running long,” Rick said casually. “Fifteen seconds past optimal.”
Martin glanced toward the portable toilet outside. He couldn’t see through walls, not without the interface, but he knew The Camera™ could.
“No big deal,” Rick said. “We’ll just send him a nudge.”
A soft chime sounded from somewhere in the house. One of the workers paused, then picked up his pace when he returned.
Rick grinned. “Optional, of course. That’s what I love about it. Nobody’s forced to do anything.”
Martin nodded. “Of course.”
Rick’s gaze drifted back up to The Camera™. “You know what really sold me? Hiring and firing.”
“Oh?”
Rick sighed, relieved. “Used to hate it. The talks. The second-guessing. Now the system just… knows. Patterns don’t lie. Performance prediction is damn near perfect. Humane, really. Takes all the emotion out of it.”
He clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Best thing that’s happened to my job.”
Martin smiled again, wide as practiced, as The Camera™ quietly adjusted its angle.
The office smelled faintly of stale coffee. Martin noticed it every time now when he comes in.
As he walked in, he passed The Camera™ mounted discreetly in the corner of the lobby ceiling. Same hum. Same shape. He almost didn’t notice it anymore.
“Miss the noise,” he muttered. Cubicles sat empty. No laughter, no ringing phones. No...energy.
His AR goggles vibrated slightly against his temples.
“We’ve noticed signs of distress,” the message read, hovering just off-center in his vision.
“We care about you. Would you like an optional 15-second meditation to improve focus and reduce stress?”
Martin exhaled. “Not now.”
“Understood,” the system replied. “We’ll check back later.”
The conference room filled as his colleagues joined. It was good to see them in person. The CEO stood at the head of the table, smiling broadly.
“Fantastic year,” the CEO said. “Truly stellar.”
Metrics scrolled in the air beside him: revenue curves climbing, margins widening, efficiency scores glowing green.
“Once we got rid of the dead weight early this year,” the CEO continued, “everything just clicked. Using The Camera™ internally was a no-brainer. We eat our own dogfood around here, right?”
A few people chuckled.
Martin noticed the CEO’s eyes flicker, tracking something only he could see. His own goggles chimed.
“Attention drift detected. Please refocus to maintain productivity.”
Martin straightened.
“Let’s give it up for ourselves,” the CEO said, reading smoothly. “The future is transparency.”
Applause filled the room, perfectly timed.
The CEO sat alone at his desk after the meeting, shoulders sagging as the room went quiet.
He loosened his tie and glanced toward the corner, where The Camera™ waited, patient and awake.
“Job well done,” he thought to himself.
He leaned forward.
“Better get back to work.”
You never know who might be watching.
Oh man. This is just feasible enough to be real....and a gut punch. I know a lot of hourly workers already feel this way - not just supervised but surveilled, reduced to cogs.
Cole, this is a powerful way to illustrate what this version of the future can look like, and importantly, what it can FEEL like.
Chilling piece! The way Rick talks about nobody being 'forced' to do anything while workers get nudged for 15-second bathroom breaks captures how coercive these systems actualy are. The line about taking emotion out of hiring and firing is darkly ironic becuase it just outsources the cruelty. That ending really hits.