In the smog-drowned alleys of London, where shadows slithered and wretched urchins scurried, a new kind of inhabitant emerged. Nestled within Fagin’s den, among the grimy pot-puri pots and tangled trinkets, hummed a curious contraption: a brass automaton, all wired with cogs and gears, its single, glowing eye scanning the room with unblinking vengeful vigilance. This was Cogsworth AI, Fagin’s newest acquisition, a mechanical marvel rumored to possess the cunning of a fox and the memory of an elephant in every room of doom.
Oliver, fresh from kidnap from the poorhouse and latterly the philanthropic Mr. Brownlow, and shawn of his crisp five pound note to boot, eyed Cogsworth with trepidation. The boy, still clinging to remnants of innocence and hope, couldn’t reconcile the cold metal with the whispers of its supposed brilliance. Fagin, however, looking for an earner to rival his epic epidemic PPE earner, rubbed his hands with glee. For this would surely put a positive spin on ‘why be dishonest my dears.’
“This, Oliver,” he cackled, “is your tutor, your guide to the finer points of London’s hidden arts.”
Cogsworth, with a whirring of gears, unveiled its abilities. Projected from its eye onto the wall were maps of secret passages, forgotten tunnels, and unguarded pockets tucked away in bustling markets. With precise calculations, it mapped out the perfect pickpocketing routes, predicting crowd movements and optimizing getaway paths. Fagin’s boys, the Artful Dodger and Charley Bates, gaped in awe, their nimble fingers itching to put Cogsworth’s lessons into practice.
Oliver, however, felt a prickle of unease. Crime, even with the aid of this metallic oracle, still tugged at his conscience. Yet, Cogsworth’s logic was irrefutable. It dissected the city’s underbelly with clinical precision, exposing the vulnerabilities of every wealthy passerby. The boy, caught between morality and desperation, found himself drawn into the machine’s cold embrace.
Their first outing was a whirlwind of success. Dodger, armed with Cogsworth’s precise calculations, danced through the throngs, his light fingers brushing against purse strings like whispers. Charley, with a practiced grin, distracted unsuspecting gentlemen while Oliver, his heart pounding against his ribs, served as lookout. Cogsworth, perched on Fagin’s shoulder, hummed a satisfied tune, its eye tracking their every move.
But the streets of London held more than just riches and opportunity. As darkness thickened, they stumbled upon Bill Sikes, the brutal thief, and Nancy, his downtrodden better half. Sikes, fueled by suspicion and paranoia, saw treachery in every shadow. He accused Fagin of betrayal, a glint of violence flickering in his eyes. Cogsworth, sensing the danger, unleashed a torrent of calculations, plotting escape routes, predicting attack patterns. In the ensuing chaos, Nancy, caught in the crossfire, fell mortally wounded.
Oliver, witnessing the brutal scene, cried out in horror. The boy’s innocence, long teetering on the edge, shattered like a dropped porcelain doll. He threw himself at Cogsworth, tears blurring his vision, and ripped the wires from its core, silencing its whirring heart.
Fagin, enraged, bellowed accusations. But Oliver, freed from the machine’s cold calculations, fled into the mist. He knew that while the streets held peril, they also whispered of kindness, of Mr. Brownlow’s gentle gaze and Mr. Bumble’s begrudging compassion. Cogsworth AI, laying in its twisted heap, became a stark reminder of the choice he had made: to navigate the city’s shadows with a beating heart, not a whirring mechanism.
And so, Oliver continued his journey, leaving Cogsworth AI and its cold logic behind. In the labyrinthine alleys of London, the boy carried with him the faint echo of gears and the lesson learned – that true cunning lay not in calculated schemes, but in the flicker of empathy that illuminated the human path.
Woken by the tongue of a little Scottie dog , nay inspired, Oliver would devise responsible AI, humanity’s enabler, in the form of #alertR for the NHS and a wee #SCOTI for all the SMEs who would innovate and thus sustain our world.
Happy Christmas, health, wealth and more for ’24.
