Burn-In: A Novel of the Real Robotic Revolution

by P.W. Singer

At least, she thought, it didn’t have that annoyingly sexist female voice that all the old personal assistant AIs once defaulted to.

“That’s right,” Noah said. “If a bot puts you at risk, you put it down. Maybe it overheats, maybe trips down some stairs. No matter what, man before machine.” “Woman,” corrected Keegan.

"Person," corrected this reader.

What happens as we’re working, and living, more and more alongside something that thinks and acts in ways we no longer understand?”

Purpose-built communities of farm-style homes, where you could know and trust your neighbors, mixed with high-tech on-site manufacturing and “Pure Code” software development. It was a classic play-for-profit using the powerful forces of nostalgia, fear, and division, selling ideas and products to one group of Americans on the basis of them being more American than another.

For about thirty seconds, she just stared at the water dripping through her fingers, falling through the cracks no matter what she did.

Jackson Todd waited thirty seconds

This right here ought to have been preceded by a scene break. Oops.

For TAMS, it was now

And again, without a scene break, a change in POV