Dear reader,
I must admit, I am very pleased that you will read my short story. To think that I have enjoyed writing since childhood, but for some reason, in all these many years, I have never taken up creating a story about the future.
I have always been interested in this topic, since I am only 20 years old, and therefore who better than me, a person belonging to a new generation of youth, to worry about the fate of the planet?
I study at the Institute of Foreign Languages of the Patrice Lumumba Peoples' Friendship University of Russia in the field of Foreign Regional Studies. Yes, the direction itself is humanitarian, but everyone can dream, right?
In the course of writing this story, I set out to explore some of the social phenomena that may manifest themselves in the future, as well as use my imagination and style to connect everything into one whole. That is why it was difficult for me to find specific confirmations of the events described in the work: my imagination sometimes flies faster than my fingers type.
Despite all this, I hope that this story, at least, will make you smile, and at most, you will also immerse yourself in thinking about how our lives will turn out in the future.
Have a nice read!
Kulikova Daria Andrianovna, author

The sun was shining through the gray blinds that hid a giant dusty window, covered with white snow powder. The alarm clock was pounding on my temples, forcing me to lift my head from the soft pillow. 
Anton grunted something unintelligible and looked around in search of YAR01267 (or in the common people — Yaroslav, Yarik). Without lenses, the man could only see the outlines of gray cubic tables and bedside tables, so a nasty feeling of helplessness began to creep into his red-haired, curly head. Soon, the familiar whirring of wheels was heard, and a miniature household robot with square black eyes drove up to the bed. 
In the cabin, such tiny baby robots were sold for a ridiculous amount, and buyers were attracted primarily by their compactness and a free set of replacement tires that were included in the kit, convincing customers that the rubber is modern, and therefore reliable while driving on possibly emerging fragments.
— Good morning, sir! — The robot boomed cheerfully.
— How many times have I asked you not to call me "sir"?!  Anton said, assuming a sitting position and dangling his legs.
— Negative emotions have a bad effect on the nervous system.
— You don't seem to be Maria Andreevna to rattle in my ear about the dangers of stress and holograms, – the man rubbed his sleepy eyes with his fists.
— I have long said that Maria Andreevna is too pedantic. Maybe you should make an appointment with Leonid? He is a first-class specialist! 
Yarik spoke steadily. His intonation, however, almost did not betray him as a creature made of nuts and metal, but Anton knew the truth. 
"Your Leonid is a twenty–fifth generation robot, Yarik.  The man shook his head. — And stop dripping on my brain! I have an important day today, so start your hurdy-gurdy. 
— That's right! Do you want to know the weather forecast?
— Oh, come on, darling. Did I sleep in thermal underwear for nothing?
— The temperature in the apartment is a comfortable 20 degrees Celsius for a person. The temperature outside is minus 25 degrees Celsius [5].  Yaroslav reported.
— Dear mothers! And this is in the middle of spring [5]?
— That's right, today is April 15th, 2100 [5]. 
Anton struggled to get up from the soft bed and wandered towards the bathroom. He was already looking forward to water treatments in the shower with a massager and the voice of Alina, whose Techno songs made him wake up every morning. 
The man almost fit into the door jamb, but Yarik intervened in an emergency situation in time and gently pushed Anton with a wheel. 
—Thanks,— he muttered.
"You don't need to thank me, sir. I was created to help. — the robot still responded cheerfully.
He drove off to the kitchen, simultaneously clicking on the available panels. Once upon a time, this system was called a "Smart Home". This is the last century, you know? Now robots turn on coffee machines and televisions themselves, where News is still broadcast on Channel One. It's been so many years, and they keep broadcasting and broadcasting! 
Anton really cheered up, put on his fancy lenses, kindly ordered by Yarik, combed his sunny mop and put on a fresh black suit, prepared the night before by the same Yarik.
Smoothed and sleek, Anton looked like an IForbes model. And that's right: he has a really important day today. A man must pass an interview to get a job as an English teacher at a local school, because a vacancy was just posted there. That's why he decided to hurry up. 
Listening to the news, Anton jumped out into the kitchen, simultaneously swallowing tart coffee without sugar and oatmeal biscuits straight from a newfangled, and most importantly eco-friendly paper packaging.
Yarik kept talking about the fact that he would order a washing gel and about the fact that a new model of a robot cook was released in America. So what now? Anton was somehow skeptical about these cooks with machine oil filling. It's like surgeons – they'll cut it off the wrong way, cook it the wrong way, but who's going to figure it out?
In any case, Anton gave Yarik permission to order everything he needed, and he got into warm boots and put on a down jacket that made him look like a penguin. The man even took his father's old bag, which would certainly blacken his business appearance, but the classic black leather briefcase, worn in places, was a kind of symbol of good luck, so Anton simply could not leave it at home. 
The topic of parents was special for a man in general. He had been living alone for a long time, in this cold and overpopulated Moscow, and his mother was warming herself in the south, although it was much cooler there now, near the shores of the Black Sea, than even 30 years ago. The woman was already at a fairly advanced age and suffered from diabetes mellitus, fortunately Anton himself paid for her with a chip that injected insulin if necessary [7]. By the way, she completely denied completely new technologies, so she did not have a home assistant in the form of a Yarik, but her second cousin Ritka lived with her in her apartment, who supported the household. Anton's father had already died a long time ago, so the man had to be content with prehistoric memories of Muslim Magomayev, which were passed down from generation to generation along with the briefcase.
— Put on your hat. — Yarik's voice pulled Anton out of the abyss of thoughts. 
The robot carefully held out a gray earflap and a knitted scarf with a tiny logo of the hologram football club "Taiga". 
— What a character you've become.  The man grumbled, taking things out of the small metal handles. — Do you want me to confirm the stupid stereotypes that Europeans still believe in? All I need is a bear and a bottle of vodka.
— You can find the bear in the Moscow Zoo, it's Arctic Week there. And more recently, robo-dogs were brought from China to support the IT section of the zoo [2]. — Yarik displayed a bluish hologram of a bright poster. — And you can't drink at work, even if it raises your body temperature! 
— That's all right. Give me your scarf, and I'll go.  Anton tied the woolen cloth around his neck with a martyred look, and then took the long—suffering briefcase.
— There is your tablet in the bag, I have already sent your resume.
— Thank you, Yarik.  The man nodded absently. — And Tolstoy?
— War and Peace, second volume. An even more prehistoric work, as you put it, but I would dispute this, since the prehistoric period refers to…
— Okay, Yarik! I'm going to be late. Why don't you tell me tonight?  Anton hastened to interrupt the robot.
"Of course, sir. Traffic jams are 8 points, so I strongly advise you to take the subway.
— Okay, don't get bored! And order everything you need!  The man exclaimed, rushing out the door.
— Have a nice day and good luck, sir!
Anton ran into the elevator, which took him to the first floor in a matter of seconds. The man was immersed in thoughts about how his life would look without Yarik, but the frosty April morning quickly made him forget about strange thoughts and literally run towards the red letter "M", passing the golden-domed church.
There were, as always, a lot of people, all pushing, shoving, swearing and sneezing. And down jackets made it difficult to walk comfortably, but fortunately modern jackets easily deflated and inflated like an ancient mattress. Anton put his finger to the turnstile, and several tens of rubles were immediately written off from his balance [9]. The scanner was immediately disinfected with antiseptic. Here it is, the world after the epidemics of the 2020s! 
There was no screeching of trains in the subway, unlike what Anton had seen in old movies: now the cars moved silently. They were also incredibly long and contained almost half of the population of the aforementioned China. By the way, now even the ads were duplicated in Chinese. And why the hell did Anton become an English teacher? He also decided not to think about this, so as not to lose morale, and sat down in an empty seat in the carriage, taking out a tablet. 

The man immediately received a notification from Yarik, who reminded him of the need to buy Ira a case for the robot. Oh, Ira! A pretty brunette with freckles and a dashing look who worked at Sheremetyevo. Anton was deeply in love, and in the evening they also had a date at the cafe! Not life, but using GPT chat directly! The man promised her a long time ago to buy a case for her home assistant, the robot hairdresser Marusia [1]. It would be more accurate to say that Ira worked as a flight attendant at Aeroflot and just often visited Sheremetyevo, and therefore told many funny stories about programmed check-in desk workers who could now and then turn out to be barbarously broken or go to the warehouse due to clashes with dissatisfied passengers who were not allowed to transfer to business class. It's good that now there have never been any difficulties with online registration itself. But we got away from the topic, and in general, Ira, of course, traveled a lot, so she needed a case to transport the robot. Necessarily red is the color of cholerics, as the brunette said, however, Anton himself did not really understand this, and therefore silently reminded himself of the need to purchase the right thing.
The man finally turned on the tablet and decided to familiarize himself with the new edition of IForbes, which he received by monthly subscription. Yes, the same IForbes, which many years ago was just Forbes, but now humanity could not ignore trends. So it turns out: they add this "I" everywhere. Here you will find news about the fall in Apple shares and interviews with domestic smartphone manufacturers Bereston.
The trip was quite unnoticeable and comfortable, and Anton himself finally woke up from the light of the hologram, which made reading comfortable. The trip to the HR office was short, considering that the man was lucky to catch a flying electric bus. And it is volatile because it literally floated through the air, bypassing nasty snowdrifts and traffic jams. A couple of times they even drove past a traffic police high-rise post that regulated air traffic [8]. 
It's a strange school, of course! They have a separate office, look at you! The low building was hidden by glass skyscrapers, and on its territory there was one unfortunate birch tree (apparently in honor of the new version of the domestic smartphone). It's a sad sight. Anton passed through another turnstile, putting his finger on it again, and at the entrance he was met by a large and formidable robot guard. He was quite realistic, with a beige face and fake muscles covered in a black uniform, and with a baton hanging on his hip.
"For the image," the man thought and went to the reception desk.
It was white, glossy, and illuminated with a blue shimmer. There were also whitish seats in the hall, but with red diodes, and they were almost completely empty. Robot waiters roamed the sterile corridors, blinking sweetly and helpfully carrying heated trays filled with steaming cups of coffee. 
The same holograms were broadcast everywhere, and interactive panels were placed where standard information about the school could be found. There were even plants in the pots, but Anton's lenses did not fail, and he realized that they were artificial. Well, yes, Moscow is not Sochi, so that palm trees grow here, even if indoors. And then, Anton has not been to Sochi for a long time, and given the current climate ... who knows in general.
— Welcome! Is there anything I can do to help? 
The man drew attention to a girl in a bright blue vest and a clean shirt. Everything is right in the color of the interior! On the badge was a sincere "Lyubava". Anton, however, had no illusions, so he had long known that people did not work in such centers, so he did not even need to notice how unnaturally Lubava blinked and spoke.
— Hello, I'm here for an interview.
The blonde narrowed her eyes, clearly going over the data from the database [2]. Anton waited patiently. Actually, it was strange, probably, because people are always in a hurry somewhere, but at least there are no queues at the MFC from now on! 
— Anton Kuznetsov?  Lubava smiled.
— Yes, that's right. 
— Follow me. 
The robot came out from behind the counter. Many, perhaps, would have expected to see something terrible on one leg and wheels or tank tracks, but no – Lyubava from the outside seemed to be an absolutely ordinary Homo sapiens individual, especially from the back. Belonging to man-made machines was given out only by a slight rasp made when walking, and slightly ragged steps. 
The girl led Anton through endless lighted corridors and eventually stopped at one door decorated with a golden screen with swirls. Ornate 3D letters read the official "Artem Vasilyevich, responsible for hiring employees." 
— Please take your jacket.  Lubava said, holding out her hands.
The man took off his coat and hid the earflaps with a scarf in a deep pocket. Anton looked back and saw that his footprints from the melted snow were already being cleaned by a small robot that resembled the old, very first models of those that were "in the service" of Yandex. A pretty white box on wheels, which quickly wielded brushes and rags, made Anton smile.
"I'm a little ahead of schedule," the man said, mentally thanking Yarik for the advice, thanks to which he was not late. 
— It's okay.  Lubava smiled reassuringly and even encouragingly. — Artyom Vasilyevich is ready to receive you. Please come in," the girl helpfully opened the door, putting her palm to the scanner, "I'll take your jacket to the wardrobe.
They didn't even give out numbers in the wardrobes anymore, this is the last century! The robots read information about the visitor and passed it on to other robots, which were given jackets. That is why the man was not worried about the safety of his coat at all.
"Thank you,— Anton nodded.
— Tea, coffee, lemonade, protein shake?  Lubava finally suggested.
The man was not even surprised by the last proposed option, given the universal obsession with a healthy lifestyle, which covers more and more minds every year, given the incredibly large-scale deforestation and air pollution. This is probably a good thing, because people should be healthy!
— Water, please. Room temperature.
The robot nodded and immediately left, and Anton himself hurried in. The office was decorated in light, minimalistic colors. The shelves of numerous bookcases were empty, except for 3D certificates and a bunch of thank-you letters, which were amusingly combined with stands and figurines of mysterious shapes – modern art. The man turned his gaze to the wall opposite the entrance and was touched: right in the center was the most ordinary, traditional photo of the president against the background of his native tricolor. 
In the center of the room was a giant metal table, at which sat a business-looking man with dark hair and piercing brown eyes. He was dressed in an office suit, and a tie with a print of small bast shoes was tightened around his neck. Charming. The man methodically pressed on the screen, but his fingers hardly bent. Anton did not need to be surprised again: there was a robot in front of him. Yes, and what a realistic one! Artyom Vasilyevich even had dark stubble, but you can't fool Anton that easily [6]. 
– Good afternoon!  The robot greeted him first and pointed with his hand towards the chair that stood opposite him, on the other side of the table. — Are you for an interview?

— Good afternoon!  Anton nodded cheerfully. — That's right, the resume has already been sent in advance.
The man sat down on a chair, leaving his briefcase nearby. Tolstoy's volume thumped heavily on the floor. The book itself was already withered, and the pages barely held on so as not to crumble, but Anton tried to preserve the antiques as best he could, and therefore carried the book in a special airtight bag to prevent it from softening in the snow, if anything.
The door to the office opened again, letting in Lubava with a tray. The girl placed an even smaller tray on the small guest coffee table and quietly left. Anton glanced at the glass, noticing next to it a package of liquid lollipops made in the "space" style. The candy was called briefly and clearly: Gagarin. There were different tastes, but the man was lucky and he got an orange, although he would have to be patient, because Anton did not want to munch and seem like a child in front of Artyom Vasilyevich, absorbing Agusha.
 The robot bent over the tablet again, reading the document. — Tell us about yourself, please. 
Anton began to briefly and intelligibly lay out everything about his professional life, not forgetting to mention education and, of course, work experience. Everything continued with a brief list of the most significant certificates obtained during the course of advanced training and the like. The man did not understand at all why he was doing all this if the robot would send information to people who would make a decision further, but he was sure that this conversation was recorded in various ways, and therefore people would be able to make sure how confidently and thoroughly the candidate behaved [2]. While Anton was sharing his achievements, Artyom Vasilyevich was verifying the authenticity of the data contained in the resume [1].
— What qualities do you possess to work in this position?  The robot asked when the man finished speaking.
— If we talk about personal qualities, I would rather call myself very hardworking and fair. I also have a good sense of humor.  Anton tried to smile convincingly, but it came out a little nervously.
— And why should we hire you and not the previous candidate? The previous candidate has more experience in scientific and teaching activities.

The man visibly tensed, but managed to save face. Has this robot been taught to be meticulous enough and ask tricky questions? Artyom Vasilyevich, by the way, noticed changes in Anton's once relaxed posture, and therefore the latter smiled again, moistening his dry throat, sipping from a glass [1]. It seemed like an adult man, but his nerves still couldn't stand it.
— Perhaps this is true, but for a long time I worked as a translator at the Moscow branch of Tesla, so I have sufficient knowledge in the field of technology and could easily present them in English [3].

It seems that Anton managed to get out of it, because the robot smiled. It is unlikely that this was included in the program, since robots have long been able to emotionally maintain a conversation.
— Why did you quit, remind me?  Artyom Vasilyevich asked matter—of-factly.
— I wanted to try myself in a new field. — Anton decided to use a long-standing excuse, which often saved him from such questions.
It was not at all profitable for him to talk about a run-in with a colleague that occurred on the basis of competition for a higher position. No, there were no fights, but Anton became a victim of bureaucratic intrigues and chose to valiantly leave the battlefield and save the remnants of his sanity. No one promised that it would be easier with children at school, but Anton had tutoring experience, so he was pretty confident in his actions.
— And why should we hire a person?  Artyom Vasilyevich suddenly asked. — The fact is that we have long signed a contract with a company whose name I cannot disclose in order to preserve legal secrecy. We could buy a new robot from this very company and spend it once, rather than hiring a person to pay a salary every month.
This question stumped Anton. No, of course, he has been a participant in discussions on the topic of replacing people with robots more than once. Moreover, this process no longer surprised anyone, but only became commonplace. However, it is worth noting that Anton himself never thought about robots teaching children. It's one thing to teach at a university, for example, but school? It's impossible.
How is this so? Children study at school ... kids, even if they are almost of age sometimes. Kids who often do not orient themselves in the modern world and absolutely do not know how to express themselves in a team. Yes, families are engaged in primary social education, but this is often not enough [4]. 
How is this so? How can you trust children's robots? What if the robots fail? Yes, a person can also fail, but he builds himself, unlike machines. Both the machine and the person are able to identify or not identify the problem. What is the difference? Humans are priceless if you don't take into account the cost of dental and vision treatment, and robots are expensive. 
How is this so? Anton frowned in frustration, pursed his lips and drank the water in one fell swoop. Maybe his decision to leave to work in the field of education was wrong? Maybe he should have stayed in a big company and fought for a place in the sun? Although no, perhaps Anton would definitely not be able to stay, given the rumors about the next departure of foreign manufacturers from the market. I could have continued to work as a tutor, for example, I would have taken more students and could have continued to travel to the Black Sea.
— Why should you hire a person?  Anton deliberately repeated the question and, taking a space candy from the tray, rustled softly, fingering the package with his fingers. — Well, for example, me? You know... I have a soul. 
The man looked sharply at Artyom Vasilyevich, and the robot stared back at him, no less significantly. Lubava's familiar voice rang out from a small speaker. He announced that the next candidate had arrived.
And what now? Anton suddenly clearly decided that he would definitely try to get a job at another school if it didn't work out here. And he will definitely visit the Arctic Exhibition, which Yarik talked about, because he loves animals very much. 
First of all, work, of course. Besides, Anton suddenly realized how much he wanted to work at this particular school, the praises of which are sung by all these cybernetic ghosts that fill the hall.
He still has a soul.
Right?

Working on this story has brought me great pleasure. To be honest, my idea was completely different, but I wouldn't want to go too deep into it, so as not to confuse readers.
In the final version of my work, I presented the Russian society of the future, in which it is possible to identify not only the positive consequences of robotization and technology development in general. It seems to me that this is fair enough, since every coin has two sides. Yes, perhaps this phrase sounds banal, like all cultural references used in constructing realities, but Russia would never be able to abandon the cultural code. This very cultural code includes not only bast shoes, earflaps and Yuri Gagarin, this is obvious. The cultural code, in my opinion, is a combination of tangible and intangible factors. Intangible factors include the character traits of a Russian person, which are so obvious and vivid that they will even be transmitted to robots in the future. But of course I'm joking. Seriously speaking, I wanted to point out the compassion of the Russian soul, or rather, the soul of any Russian. What is important is compassion, love for one's neighbor and values, and history.
Just like in this story, Yarik shows friendliness to a person who treats him somewhat skeptically, and Anton himself gets into Yarik, who is very different from the same Artyom Vasilyevich. With his reflections, Anton emphasizes the importance of man as a being who possesses a soul. It is likely that in the future robots will become more and more integrated into human emotions, not only in social relations. That's why I tend to believe that in this universe, these characters will be able to complement each other's existence and teach each other the best. People, in my opinion, will be able to coexist with robots and use their skills for good.