The Heart Beats in Binary
Page 4 of 6
I thought about this for a minute, and as Bradley’s AI as my witness, I had no idea. I guess we programmers give up learning about the opposite sex and what we’re supposed to do with them, in return for hours of time spent in front of computer screens and flowcharts and lots of beer. “What,” I needed to know, “are we supposed to do?” The thought of grown, fat men swinging from the trees in little loin cloths made me just a touch nauseous, but I couldn’t imagine what else Cori and I could do in this place. “Forage for berries?” I added.
Cori laughed sweetly again. She informed me of some of the options available to me. I wish to point out here that no matter how desperate my life gets, I will never engage in anything virtual that requires me to expose myself. Virtually, I blushed and offered, “Uh, couldn’t we just talk, or something?” I wasn’t sure what to think about Cori at that point, since she engaged in that type of activity, forgetting momentarily that she didn’t even exist. The computer industry really does gear itself towards males, because a great number of us will devote obnoxiously long periods of our lives to the damn machines. Adolescence never fully works its way out of us, I realized, but this whole thing was a little too sexist and perverted for me as unenlightened as I may be.
“You spent all that money just to talk to me?” asked Cori. Her features grew complex. She seemed genuinely stunned. Her apparent emotion made me feel even more uncomfortable, and the reminder of the amount of money I was spending didn’t help my mood either, but I agreed, and told her all I wanted to do was spend some time with her. She brightened and said, “Yes, we must talk.” She grabbed my hand and led me through some heavy foliage into a clearing that was surrounded by tall, tropical trees. The virtual sunlight broke through the green canopy onto the jungle floor. It overwhelmed my suburban brain.
“This is beautiful,” I gasped. My thoughts were spinning at the oddity of this whole experience, and I groped my way towards a rock that must have been programmed there to sit upon. Cori followed, still holding my hand. Her skin was soft and warm, her nails perfectly manicured, and I cursed the idiots who made this a perfect as it was, allowing me this weakness of falling in love with a batch of machine code. We sat down, and she pressed her perfumed body next to mine. I felt imperfect, grungy, next to her.
She ignored my self-conscious squirming. “You said last time that you were a programmer. You must be very intelligent,” she said, looking me straight in the eye and not even smirking. “I can tell that you are just by the way you handle yourself.” Aw, gee, she knew how to press my buttons. I thanked her, but that wasn’t enough for her. She continued to list attributes that would make me desirable to any woman, but I assured her that, outside, reality was much harsher on guys like me. I even went so far as to say that I really didn’t even stand a chance to get another girlfriend; my last was four years before. That was why, I explained, I was in this place. I was lonely.
We sat silently for a minute. Cori was staring at me; I was looking straight towards the ground. I finally admitted my shame aloud, even if just to a programmed fantasy. I had sunk so low in my loneliness, that I had resorted to this. Cori broke the silence saying, “You could visit me anytime you want.” She was sure written well, I thought. Despite my protestations, she wanted me to feel wanted.
“Thanks, Cori. That means a lot to me.” I was about to add, “Even if it comes from a computer,” but I couldn’t. Her emotions were all previously determined, and I doubt that I could have made her feel ashamed or uncomfortable, yet I felt awkward about mentioning it.
She seemed to know what I had left unsaid anyway for she insisted, “There isn’t anything wrong with you for falling in love with me.” Love— how could she know of such an emotion? I asked her so. Her face fell as if upset. “I thought you were different. I thought you might understand.” She turned away from me. I tried to assure her that I didn’t understand; I was completely confused and getting more nervous by the second. I would have gotten off the rock to put space between Cori and me, but she beat me to it.
Cori walked to the other side of the clearing and suddenly swung around to face me. “You have to understand me!” she cried. Her beautiful face had lines of anger and was ruddy with rage. “I’m just as real as you. Can’t anyone see that?”
This was too weird. “Uh, computer. Stop this program,” I said to nobody in particular. It always worked in Star Trek, but not this time, not here. It never occurred to me to pull the plug back on the reality side. “Bradley!” I shouted, “Get me out of here.” The only response was from Cori. She began to cry.