The Heart Beats in Binary

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A huge settlement came from this mess and lawyers from all over the place called, E-mailed, or showed up in person to deeply regret so-and-so client’s involvement in the whole affair. They insisted that the program was destroyed. “There will be no more Cori’s,” assured one suit. More companies and their lawyers were involved in this than I thought existed in America. The AI handled most of it. He doesn’t even seem to miss the Bradley. I can’t blame him.

The programmer of Cori phoned and insisted to speak to me, but I was out. The AI told me to call Bob McCormick when I got back from the local Taco Barn. I was shocked when I returned the call to be staring at the bespectacled image of Cori on the visiphone. “Hello, Bob speaking,” she said.

“Bob?” I couldn’t understand this. “Ralph Emerson returning your call.”

“Oh, yes, Ralph, Cori’s told me so much about you. I’ve wanted to speak to you for weeks. So sorry about the glitch.”

I was cool. I said, “Hey, uh, no problem.” She then offered me a job, paying me much more than Bradley ever did. The job was standard R&D. We were to research and develop stand-alone AI’s. It was the quickest decision I ever made. I took the offer, packed everything up, including the AI and the VR machine, and sent it all to California. I met Bob at the airport. It’s short for Roberta. She reached out to hold my hand as she reached into her pocket pouch to pull out a Compact Disc. “Ralph,” she said without a trace of irony in her voice, showing me the CD, “meet Cori.”