by Bruce Allsman
“Pardon me Madam, I’m unable to process your request.” A female voice, an impartial, smooth, mechanical, and monotone speech permeated the entire residence. It emanated from electro-acoustic transducers fitted in every room.
“You’ve selected a wrong option,” I told my wife, Shayla. In the kitchen near the fridge, we stood at a computer terminal with a twelve-inch touch screen.