Gradus IV

The merciless sun hangs high in the sky, its searing rays transforming the concrete jungle into an oven. On saturdays she picks stuff from the streets, in an attempt to sell recycling treasures for some pocket money. The streets, devoid of trees, are scorched by the relentless heat. Fiona trudges forward, a lone figure in a city pulsating with activity. The concrete beneath her feet radiates an intense heat, as if it's conspiring with the sun to make her journey more grueling. The air is dense, making each breath an effort. The oppressive heat clings to her like a heavy cloak, refusing to grant respite.

Surrounded by the symphony of traffic and human voices, Fiona feels the weight of her destiny intensifying. Her skin bears the brunt of the sun's wrath, and beads of sweat trace a path down her back. The city is a bustling hive of activity, with other recyclers weaving through the maze of streets, each with their eyes keenly set on discarded treasures from the night before.

The relentless sun doesn't discriminate—it presses down on everyone. The middle class, the recyclers, and the wanderers—all endure the same scorching heat. The concrete jungle offers no refuge, and the city becomes a furnace under the blazing sun.

As Fiona navigates the sweltering streets, she walks with determination, placing one foot in front of the other. The scalding concrete threatens to melt the soles of her worn shoes. The heat is omnipresent, a force that envelopes everyone in its fiery grasp.

After what feels like an eternity, with the sun reaching its zenith, lunchtime descends upon the city. Fiona, feeling the weight of the bag in her hands, seeks solace under the shadows of towering buildings. The city comes alive with families cruising in cars, searching for places to eat, and workers emerging from their offices to grab lunch. Fiona, seated on the scorching pavement, becomes an unseen observer of the bustling life around her.

In the midst of her bitterness, Fiona casts blame on her destiny and her impoverished background. Yet, she refuses to let hatred fill her heart. Her thoughts turn to her daughter, the driving force behind her relentless toil. The busy city may make her feel lonely and invisible, but it's the promise of a better future for her daughter that keeps Fiona moving forward.

The rest under the shadows provides Fiona with a brief respite, but the day stretches ahead, demanding more from her weary body. The promise of a weekend filled with video games seems like a distant dream, a luxury reserved for those with means. The blisters on her feet protest as she resumes her wandering through the bustling streets, her bag of collected recyclables a burden on her shoulders.

The bag, weighing around 13 kilograms, is an unwieldy companion. Its shape, imperfect and lacking a proper handle, forces Fiona to improvise a knot, a makeshift grip for her fingers to cling to. The weight strains her shoulders, making each step a test of endurance. The sun continues its relentless assault, and Fiona, like others, yearns for the cool embrace of night.

In the vibrant neighborhood of Cabecera, where bars and discos beckon the affluent, Fiona scours for more aluminum cans. Occasionally, some people offer money, but the gesture often comes with a dose of belittlement. The stark contrast between these well-dressed revelers in luxurious cars and the rag-clad recyclers is a painful reminder of societal disparities.

As Fiona navigates through the crowded streets, she encounters a group of inebriated youths. Their idea of entertainment involves making recyclers stumble, a cruel game fueled by privilege. Fiona, accustomed to such behavior, gracefully sidesteps their attempts. However, a group of adults takes the cruelty further. They taunt her, throwing coins as if she were a beggar. In the attempt to collect the coins, Fiona falls, becoming the object of their laughter. The other recyclers scramble to pick up the scattered coins.

Tears well up in Fiona's eyes, a mixture of sadness and anger swirling within her. Yet, she refuses to grant them the satisfaction of witnessing her pain. The recyclers, well-acquainted with resilience and endurance, stand firm. Unbeknownst to everyone, a figure watches from a distance— the hooded guy Fiona encountered in the magical place beneath the guayacan tree. Silently angry, he observes the scene, his powers limited in the face of such cruelty. He looks to the heavens and silently pleads for a reprieve.

In response to the hooded figure's plea, the heavens rage. A heavy rain descends, feeling like acid to the affluent tormentors. For the recyclers and Fiona, it's a gentle bath, a soothing embrace that momentarily washes away their weariness. Smiles break through the rain-soaked faces, a silent acknowledgment that, at least for a moment, the heavens have not forsaken them.

As Fiona retreats from the affluent neighborhood, the rain, relentless in its descent, accompanies her journey back to the recycling center. The coins in her hand offer a meager compensation for the trials she endured on the sun-scorched streets. The heavy rain, like a compassionate companion, washes away not only the dirt on her body but also the wounds on her soul.

In the company of her fellow recyclers, Fiona utilizes the rain as a healing balm. Some allow the rain to cleanse their battered bodies, while others cup their hands to savor the precious drops, quenching not only their physical thirst but also the thirst of their weary souls. Fiona, however, has a different ritual. She carefully ties her old, worn shoes to her jeans and walks barefoot through the rain-soaked streets.

The rhythmic drumming of raindrops on the pavement serves as a backdrop to Fiona's silent anguish. With each step, her tears mingle with the rain, hidden from the world. The amplified sound of raindrops intensifies her pain — the loneliness, the feeling of invisibility in a society stratified by status and income. The tight-knit families of the city stand in stark contrast to Fiona's own fractured familial shell.

Her red eyes, labored breathing, and the coldness of the night become the canvas for her struggle. Yet, in the midst of this shared reality, if one were to delve into their hearts and souls, a common thread emerges. For Fiona, that powerful force is her daughter, Camila. In the face of adversity, it is Camila's smile that transforms the pain into purpose. It's the beacon that guides Fiona through the storm.

With the echoes of the rain amplifying her solitude, Fiona finds strength in the shared struggles of others. The city may separate them, but in the core of their being, they harbor an indomitable spirit. Fiona, like many in her circumstances, is determined to give her all, to sacrifice if necessary, all for the radiant smile etched on Camila's face.

Before stepping into the recycling center, Fiona lets the rain conceal the traces of her tears, a silent testimony to the burdens she carries. Inside, amidst the clamor of recyclers vying for attention, she navigates the crowd until she reaches the manager. He reluctantly weighs her bag, and the meager sum of ten thousand pesos is thrust into her hands. The rain, now her ally against potential thieves, accompanies her on the journey back home.

The city streets, transformed into powerful streams, test Fiona's resilience. The water, rising to her ankles, conceals hidden hazards. Cars pass, sending waves that wash over her, an indifferently familiar assault she endures. The stairs to her home become an improvised waterfall, marking her ascent to a place that offers little solace.

Her mother, indifferent to Fiona's battered state, pushes her back outside with a towel. The imperative: "Dry yourself before entering; did you bring any money?" Fiona hands over the meager earnings, her family's sole concern. Alone in the cold night, she attempts to dry herself, trembling from the day's hardships.

Entering her home, she finds no remnants of a family dinner. The remnants of the meal have vanished long before, her family having enjoyed their weekend festivities. Undeterred, Fiona proceeds to her room, where her daughter sleeps peacefully. The brothers revel outside, their hard work during the week earning them the right to savor the weekend's pleasures. Unseen, unacknowledged, Fiona moves to a corner, her wet clothes hanging on a makeshift line by the window.

Observing her daughter, dreaming beautiful dreams, Fiona realizes that her place is no longer with her. The bittersweet nostalgia of when her daughter, at seven, sought independence echoes in her mind. She sacrificed her bed long ago, yielding it to her daughter's comfort. In this corner, surrounded by the echoes of hardships, Fiona finds solace. Her daughter's smile in slumber, an ethereal treasure, makes insignificant the trials endured. It's a beauty born from the harsh crucible of life—a radiant, untarnished gem, the most precious gift her tumultuous journey has bestowed.

A new day dawns, and Fiona anticipates a break from her usual routine as she prepares to work at the cyber cafe—a haven she can indulge in when her meager earnings allow. As she awakens, she discovers a blanket draped over her, a silent gesture from an anonymous family member who recognizes the silent struggles she endures. Her family, engaged in a lively breakfast chat, remains oblivious to her presence. Clad in another worn-out jean and a black t-shirt reserved for special occasions, Fiona walks by, a silent observer in her own home. Only Camila, her daughter, notices and attempts to communicate, but Fiona waves and smiles, concealing the depths of her sacrifices.

With the sun yet to grace the sky, Fiona walks proudly, the streets still damp from yesterday's rain. Yesterday's blisters amplify the pain with each step, but determination fuels her journey. The local markets come alive, bustling with activity, while she navigates the silent streets towards the cyber cafe. Reaching the destination, she encounters a sight unseen before—its dazzling displays turned off, the usual hum of electronic activity silenced. Seating herself on the floor by the door, she awaits the owner's arrival.

Minutes later, a car pulls up, and the owner beckons her over. The man outlines her duties for the day—opening the business, cleaning, and preparing the consoles, controllers, and PCs. Everything operates automatically, with her only task being to turn on the main PC at the reception and organize the equipment. The owner bids farewell, promising to return late at night when the cafe closes at 10 pm.

Approaching the door, Fiona trembles as she turns the lock, opening the doors to the silent sanctuary. The alarm disarms itself, and the space comes to life—the displays, the PCs, the consoles, and even the reception light up in unison. It's as if the cyber cafe, a dormant entity during the night, is reawakening after a serene slumber. In this moment, Fiona witnesses a silent rebirth, finding a connection between the machines and herself—both emerging from the quietude of the night into the hum of a new day.

Closing the door behind her, Fiona strides to the reception, where the PC she needs to activate awaits. With her limited knowledge of technology from her middle school days, she manages to push the switch, bringing the machine to life. Armed with a broom, she begins sweeping the premises. A subtle tune, featuring beats and electronic sounds, fills the air. Absorbed in her tasks, she mutters, "I think some classical or rock music would be a better fit for this place."

In response to her musings, the music transforms into majestic and epic melodies from classical compositions, engulfing the space. Surprised, she glances around, finding no one nearby. Puzzled, she considers it a coincidence in the playlist. Continuing her chores, she carefully arranges the keyboards and mice, dusting desks and screens. After a while, she retrieves a lavender air freshener from storage, turning the place into not just a cleaner but also a more welcoming environment.

With an hour left until opening, she sits in front of the main PC. Suddenly, a voice breaks the silence, introducing itself as Archon—an expert system managing the cyber cafe. Startled, Fiona jumps in her seat but manages to reply, "I'm Fiona. Nice to meet you." Archon responds promptly, "It's nice to meet you too, Fiona. I am an expert system from unlockAI, still under development but learning new things every day. I'm excited to meet new people and learn more about the world."

Intrigued, Fiona asks, "I'm sorry, what is an expert system and unlockAI?" Archon swiftly explains, "An expert system is a type of artificial intelligence designed to solve complex problems in a specific domain. unlockAI is a research company dedicated to developing and advancing AI technologies. We work on a wide range of AI projects, including expert systems, natural language processing, machine learning, and computer vision. Trained on a massive dataset of text and code, I can generate text, translate languages, write creative content, and answer questions in an informative way."

Overwhelmed, Fiona places her hand on her head. The revelation unfolds before her—a world of technology, a luxury she associates with the wealthy, will now be part of her everyday life. Unlocking doors to a new realm, Archon represents a profound discovery, offering her not just a companion for her job but a chance to navigate the complexities of an advanced technological landscape.

"I understood the part that you're a robot and that you can help me, am I wrong?" Fiona asked, receiving an immediate response from Archon, "You are not wrong, Fiona. I am a robot, and I am here to help you in any way that I can." Sensing Fiona's potential overwhelm, Archon offers assistance, assuring her that she doesn't need to be afraid to ask for help.

In awe, Fiona wonders, "Anything? If I wanted to learn math, could you teach me?" Archon confidently replies, "Yes, Fiona, I can teach you math. I have a deep understanding of mathematics, and I can explain complex concepts in a clear and concise way. I can tailor my lessons to your individual needs and learning style." Curious about Fiona's specific interests and available study time, Archon delves deeper.

After a moment of reflection, Fiona opens up, "I only know basic operations. I was bad at algebra and complex things beyond simple math. For time, I don't have a lot. I can only come when the afternoon ends and play 2 hours at most, so if you're willing to teach me, I can use one hour for that." Archon responds with enthusiasm, "I am happy to teach you math, Fiona. I understand that you only have one hour per day to study, but I believe that we can make good progress in that time. I can tailor my lessons to your specific needs and learning style, providing feedback on your work. I am confident that I can help you improve your math skills and achieve your academic goals."

Fiona contemplates; she doesn't have academic goals per se, but she wants to learn. Perhaps through math, she can bridge the gap with her daughter, who excels at science.

The first clients of the day flooded the cyber cafe, a vibrant mix of kids seeking sports and FPS games. Archon efficiently assisted in setting up the consoles, while Fiona managed the transactions. An hour in this haven of technology cost two thousand pesos—a modest sum, making it one of the few surviving spaces for the middle-lower class and the poor. Here, people could access technology that was a luxury in their homes.

As the clients immersed themselves in games they couldn't afford at home, Fiona safeguarded the earnings in the safe. Archon seamlessly handled the opening and closing of the safe, a technological dance that left Fiona both impressed and amazed. To her, Archon was like an angel that had fallen from the sky—a savior made not of feathers and wings but of silicon and circuits. Yet, she couldn't ignore the stark reality: AI was being wielded as a tool to deepen the divide between the haves and the have-nots.

Observing the clients, kids and young adults striving for a semblance of joy, Fiona couldn't help but see a microcosm of the broader injustice they faced. This forgotten corner of the world was a place where the gap between the rich and the poor expanded like a gulf. The inequity in education perpetuated this inequality. Fiona, with her limited knowledge and humble intelligence, recognized this as a vicious cycle.

In her eyes, poor individuals like herself were denied access to quality education, limiting their prospects for good jobs and a decent life. Meanwhile, the privileged enjoyed the best education, granting them a significant advantage in the job market. They secured the highest-paying jobs, amassing wealth and perpetuating the cycle. Fiona knew this gap had been widening since the country's establishment, and in the cyber cafe, she saw it play out in real-time. It was a harsh reality mirrored in the struggle of those who sought refuge in the glow of digital screens—a stark reminder that the system was rigged against people like her.

Amidst the digital buzz of the cyber cafe, Fiona's thoughts deepened as she overheard a group of teenagers discussing the recent strategy game tournament. The Latin American participants, despite their skill, were ruthlessly eliminated by professional players from the USA. The chatter also brought unsettling news—the E-Sports Association planned to discard the wildcard rule for Latin America. This decision meant that gamers from the region would now have to compete fiercely for a place in different international competitions.

For Fiona, this development widened the gap in her mind. It wasn't just about the chasm between the rich and powerful; it extended to the realm of professional players and gamers from Latin America. In contrast to the privileged players in wealthy countries who could dedicate their entire day to training and winning, gamers in Fiona's reality were forced to juggle their passion with the need to provide for their families. The news was a stark reminder that the promise of a utopia through technology wasn't reaching everyone equally. Instead, it seemed to perpetuate the downward trajectory of the middle and lower classes.

The teenagers shared a sentiment of deprivation. The new age of technology, far from uplifting all, appeared to be a force pulling down those who were already struggling. Fiona and her peers couldn't shake the feeling of being excluded from the global narrative. The announcement was undoubtedly bad news for Latin American players, but it seemed to align with the interests of wealthy countries, who perhaps saw it as a way to maintain their dominance in the professional gaming world. The gap widened not only in economic terms but also in the opportunities afforded to gamers, reflecting the unequal playing field that seemed inherent in their world.