In our sci-fi house, I have now decoded the kitchen hob. It is an induction stove-top with a fierce sense of morality, refusing to work if takes exception to the material your cooking pot is made of. It takes a minute and a half, or more accurately, ninety seconds, to decide whether the pot it is being burdened with is worth its while. Failing to meet its stringent standards, it switches itself off and turns its face away from the fickle world of humans.
Our blinds are operated by a remote control. If you press the button with an arrow pointing upwards once, the blind opens and lifts itself up. If you keep it pressed, it will merely open up without lifting clear off. If you press the same buttons on an identical remote and nothing happens, you will find, when you are taking a walk towards the other side of the house, that the blinds in the guest room have mysteriously opened up.
We do not have a peep-hole at the main door. Instead we have a mobile phone sized screen with a single button on it, which when pressed, reveals who stands on the other side as seen through the eyes of an unseen camera.
In fact the whirr and purr of exhaust fans, dishwasher, electric kettle and other concealed machines combine to keep all of us in a permanent state of fear and awe.