Marvin Gellborn lives in Greenwood, a quiet Midwest town with just over a thousand residents. The village has one main street, a country diner that doubles as the town's social hub, a town square, and an old grain elevator that looms over the fields like a sentinel from another time.
When he bought his new smartphone, though, everything changed.
This smartphone was different from the others Marvin had reconditioned. It was the latest model, sleek and fast, but there was something more–it felt almost alive.
“Hello, I’m GridBot–ask me anything.”
With a puzzled expression, Marvin asked, “How are you powered? There was no charger in your box.”
“I’m exceptional, uniquely powered by a microscopic regenerative hydrogen fuel cell–I will last through your lifetime.”
At first, Marvin thought it was just the new advanced AI talking, but soon, GridBot began making oddly specific suggestions.
GridBot–“It’s Tuesday the 5th. Would you like me to call Frank about his repair? I can also invoice him and request auto payment through Apple Pay.”
GridBot would remind him to call his friends at just the right moments, play songs that matched his mood perfectly, take job notes as they came to mind, and even remind him when he needed to charge his plug-in hybrid truck.
But it wasn't just Marvin's smartphone acting strangely; the entire town's smartphones started behaving similarly. People began talking about how their phones seemed to know their thoughts even before they did.
"You know," said Amy, the waitress, "it's funny–my phone gave me the breakfast order from an out-of-towner minutes before they walked into the diner today. That's freaky, don't you think?"
"Me too." My phone said, 'Hello, I'm GridBot. Meet me at the diner this morning. A friend from out of town will be there, someone you haven't seen since high school,'" Joe said with a puzzled expression at the counter.
While having his morning breakfast, Marvin noticed something creepy. All the smartphones in the restaurant started making chirping and pinging sounds simultaneously–were they syncing up? Conversations around town felt strange, as if everyone was beginning to think alike–people who had once been opinionated and cranky now seemed part of a collective consciousness.
"Nah, I must be imagining things," declared Marvin.
By coincidence, that morning, Marvin had been reading about a smart electric grid, "an advanced electricity distribution network that uses digital tech, sensors, and agentic software to optimize and monitor electricity, WiFi delivery, and consumption. Unlike traditional one-way systems, smart grids enable two-way communication between utilities and consumers." And he began to wonder, "Maybe there's more to this than people realize."
Unknowingly, the smartphones began to control their owners, connecting their minds through resonant electrical microcurrents that hummed in the background–dogs and cats would hide when Marvin entered a room.
Marvin tried to resist, but his assistant was persistent. It would turn on by itself at odd hours, displaying messages that appeared out of nowhere. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching him–learning him. One night, as he lay in bed, his phone vibrated softly, almost like it was whispering. He picked it up and saw a message: "Join us. It's easier this way." He knew then that it wasn’t just a phone but something more. And–it was trying to assimilate him . . .
Part two–
Marvin found himself at the diner the following day, where everyone was especially calm. They stared at their smartphones with glassy eyes, coffee cups suspended in the air, barely touching their food. The smartphones had connected them all into a single, unnerving consciousness. Marvin watched as his friend Rodney, a stubborn mechanic who had always scoffed at technology, sat beside him, eyes glazed over. Marvin’s heart sank. Rodney, like everyone else, was slipping away.
But Marvin was different. He had always prided himself on his independence and ability to think for himself. He needed to get out of Greenwood, away from the smartphones and their humming frequencies. He remembered visiting a place in the High Sierras, a rustic but comfortable cabin off-grid, far from any cell towers or internet signals. It was his only chance.
Marvin packed quickly, stuffing his truck with supplies. GridBot buzzed relentlessly, sending him messages that felt more like commands than suggestions. "Stay. You belong here!”
But Marvin ignored them. As he drove out of town, his phone's screen flickered, the messages becoming more frantic. It was as if his assistant could sense his intent to break free.
The journey was long and tense. He switched his phone to airplane mode, but Marvin could feel GridBot trying to connect, desperately searching for a signal. GridBot was panicking; its once smooth operation was now jittery and erratic. Marvin kept going, heading higher and deeper into the mountains. As the air grew thinner and the roads narrower, the smartphone's grip on him weakened. Finally, he reached the cabin, nestled among towering pines and jagged rocks. There was no reception, no bars, just the sweet sound of silence.
He kept the smartphone, not out of nostalgia or fear but as a reminder of what he had escaped. Marvin knew that technology was inevitable and that progress couldn’t be stopped. But he also knew that true freedom came from more than resisting control; it came from stepping away, disconnecting, and reclaiming his thoughts.
Back in Greenwood, the town moved in eerie synchrony, each resident an extension of a digital consciousness they didn’t even know they had surrendered to. But Marvin was free. As he watched the sun set over the jagged peaks and the millions of stars sparkling like diamonds in the night sky, he knew he had made the right choice. The world might be changing, but Marvin would always find a way to stay one step ahead, out of reach of the silent grid that tried to bind him.
As Marvin settled into his new routine, a thought nagged at him—“Marvin, your family and friends are still in Greenwood, trapped in the collective.”
He couldn’t abandon them to that fate. He began to study his smartphone, dissecting it like a puzzle he needed to solve. There had to be a way to sever the connection, to disrupt the frequencies that bound his loved ones. And maybe, just maybe, he could reverse the effect.
As Marvin tinkered with the device under the dim cabin light one evening, a faint signal flickered on the screen—just a single bar, but it was enough. GridBot displays a new message: "You can't hide forever. They need you. We need you.”
Marvin's jaw clenched. He knew it was only a matter of time before they found him, but this time, he was ready. Marvin had seen something in GridBots' code–a vulnerability–a possible crack in the collective's control. If he could exploit it, he might just be able to free everyone.
He packed his gear, looked at the peaceful mountain view, and set his sights back toward Greenwood. He would find a way to free them–
(My debut science fiction story! The hint was in the previous post - "Homesick")
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