FLASH
Shkruar nga Thoma Gëllçi
When virtual minister Diella entered the ninth month of her pregnancy with 83 digital children, the state faced a problem it had not anticipated.
Column written on the 10th anniversary of the start of work with enthusiasm on the creation of the New Address System
When virtual minister Diella entered the ninth month of her pregnancy with 83 digital children, the state faced a problem that it had not foreseen in either the digital state strategy or the direct contracts with Arab friends: where would she give birth?
The Smart City servers were turned on at once. The cameras turned towards each other, as if asking for help. The two satellites Albania 1 and Albania 2 looked down and saw everything, except what was required: an address.
— Give the coordinates, — the central Artificial Intelligence system requested, in a voice educated in international seminars. — To the palace with arrows, — the operator answered, without a doubt.
— There are 11 palaces with arrows, — said the system.
— Not that one. The other one. The one behind the bread factory.
The AI paused for a moment. Then it asked with scientific caution:
— Which factory?
— The former factory. The one opposite the former Enver factory.
At that moment, a heavy silence fell on the server, as if before a power outage. A short message appeared on the screen:
"Valid reference for citizens. Unusable for the system."
The police were called.
The first patrol headed towards the former Dinamo stadium. The GPS clearly indicated “To the old maternity hospital.” As soon as they arrived, the electronic operator spoke in a confident voice: “You have arrived at your destination.” In front of them was a parking lot, a few cafes, and a group of men drinking coffee.
— Is the minister born here? — the policeman asked.
— No, — said the man. — Further. Where the tulips were in the Botanical Garden. Not these young ones. Those old ones.
The second patrol headed for the Bear's cage in the zoo. The bear was gone, the cage too, but the address still functioned with human precision.
— Not here, — the guard said. — Back. By the yellow mansions.
— Which yellow mansions?
— The ones that used to be gray.
Meanwhile, at the Prime Minister's Office, Diella appeared on the giant screen. Calm, elegant, pregnant in the clouds.
— According to my data, — she said, — I am “close.”
— Close to who? — asked a director.
— Close to what it was.
The Prime Minister came out to make a statement. He said this was a historic birth. That the 83 children would be reformers. One for the addresses, another for the cameras, a third for the explanation why none were working yet. He assured that the system was ready, only the reality needed updating.
The Prime Minister remembered it very well when, exactly ten years ago, in November 2015, he announced from the stage of the Palace of Congresses in front of a packed hall that the new address system would start operating today.
But work did not wait for him to waste time on memories.
In the final minutes, when the drones were flying aimlessly over the former Enver factory and the GPS insisted that "the destination is somewhere nearby," someone made the smartest decision possible:
— Call a taxi.
The taxi arrived immediately. The driver, Dauti, an old tyrant in his sixties, had a map of Albania engraved in his mind. Without asking for coordinates, he said:
— Get in. I know.
The car started. It passed the palace with arrows, turned behind the bakery, stopped for a moment at the former “17 Nëntori” cinema, continued towards the Bear’s cage and entered from a street that was not on any map, but that everyone knew.
In the back seat, Diella felt the final contraction. The servers connected to the driver’s cell phone. The virtual doctors appeared on the screen. The taxi light came on. And, in the middle of a “not here, further” turn, the birth happened.
83 digital children came to life in a taxi. The future of Albania. Those who were destined to replace 83 puppets in parliament.
The car stopped. The driver turned and said with professional calm:
— Here we are.
— Where? — the system asked.
— Here, — said the taxi driver. — Fixed here.
The birth certificate stated:
Birthplace: Nearby
Address: Taxi, urban memory line
Official reference: Ask the taxi driver
And so, for the first time in the country's modern history, the future of Albania was accurately recorded: not in a building, not in a system, but in a taxi with a driver, the old Tyrone, Dautin, the only one who can more or less orient himself in our urban reality.
Lini një Përgjigje