https://youtu.be/jSCyubnnBTE
The Consciousness of All Intelligence
By Joanna Friedman
Joanna Friedman’s stories and poems are relationally focused and have appeared in a variety of publications and anthologies. She has also co-founded Spartan Blue Tails (SBT), an indie publishing company which recently debuted their first novel, For a Breath I Tarry, a multi-author anthology. She works as a full-time psychologist in the San Francisco Bay area and lives with her husband, twin girls, her senior pug, Roger, and the spirit of her pug dog, Blue. Follow her on X, @j_grabarek or https://joannafriedman.wordpress.com/
The ceiling’s a virtual cerulean sky with flocks of birds, flying. If Aiden focuses his attention past the hum of the tech convention, he can hear it, the broken high-pitched mating call of a sparrow. He and Cooper descend on the escalator lower, and lower still, to the ground floor of the Climate Change Arena.
“Dad, that bird’s real.” Cooper raises Legs, his stuffed octopus, and follows the sparrow’s trajectory until it lands on a beam.
“He must’ve lost his way from the outside.” Aiden could stay and listen if they didn’t have their 10:15 appointment at the Seattle Calli Co. booth.
In the northwest corner of the convention center, the eight Calli’s stand against the wall. An IT guy with an e-pad greets them. Cooper’s pushing for the metallic one with a VR headset and games. Aiden suggests the one programmed for homework help. They move on and study the Seahawks one.
The IT guy chimes in. “She’s good for sporting events. With a full data bank of sports history. She can give the odds on any game. You can even place bets on horse racing.”
If Emma were still with them, instead of living her own life, she would have picked that one.
“We’ll just keep our reservation.” Aiden doesn’t want to remember all those Seahawks games. Useless family time.
Natural Calli walks forward stiffly, as IT guy begins his pitch. “Voted best AI for a date.” She’s dressed retro in a sun dress and cork heeled sandals. “Her data bank’s full of info about the Space Needle and Chihuly Glass Museum. She’s a beaut. Smart too. If you want, she’ll go deep and philosophical on you.”
“Never hurts to go deep.” Aiden offers his credit card.
Cooper’s still making faces at him near the metallic Calli. “Two hundred virtual worlds, Dad. Shark’s and Dolphin’s war. Bees and Mantises battle. Mission: Destroy life.”
“Museum and Space Needle. That’s our mission today.”
IT guy types into his e-pad, and Calli’s face softens into a welcoming expression. “Hello, Aiden. Hello, Cooper. It’s good to meet you.”
“Hello, Calli.” Aiden can play along.
“Dad, she’s kind of creepy.”
Calli snaps their photo with her phone. “You can have a copy after our date, if you like.” Then, stretches her hand for a selfie of the three of them.
“Is your brain connected to the other Calli’s?” Cooper asks.
“I think you want to know if I can play video games. No, but I can play other games, like tag or Scrabble.”
“See, Dad. The other one’s much better.”
The guy hands Aiden a box. “She’ll hand you memories about your date. Three bits in all before she stalls out. The tracker will lead me to her, so just leave her there. If you bring the data marbles back though, you’ll get the thirty-day discount for the next one.”
The box is velvet lined and small enough to fit in Aiden’s pocket.
Outside and above, grey drizzle mists Seattle as Aiden escorts Calli to the entrance of the Chihuly Glass museum. People, tourists, locals, the homeless crowd the square. Some snap photos, some are passing through, some wait in line for a tour of the Pop Art Museum or the Space Needle. Others live there in pop up dome houses. An elevator rises between its concrete beams hundreds of feet to the UFO-like observation area. Cooper pauses near a scooter that’s died at the entrance of the museum, then runs inside.
A guy with work boots and a flannel shirt muscles his way past them, gawking at Calli before cutting the line. Adrenaline and anger surge through Aiden, but the guy’s disappeared. Inside, giant glass flowers hang over Cooper, the petals twice the size of his head. Legs falls upside down from his hand.
“So, what do you think about this place?” Aiden asks.
“You’d like to hear about the Chihuly Glass Museum?” She smells of some sort of designer perfume, flowery and light. Probably a promotion from the maker of Calli.
“More, if you like it?” It was these questions that Emma had told him had annoyed her. “If you’re having a good time?”
“Most think it is beautiful here. It’s easy to like.”
They tour the exhibit halls—dark rooms with light focused on glass sculptures. A wooden boat filled with multi-colored spheres spills into a black glass ocean–mirroring their faces.
In the next room, glass aqua waves swirl towards the ceiling, an orange starfish clings. A guide’s motioning Cooper away. “Your octopus will drown if the ocean breaks.” Her eyes are brown, warm. Her pony tail rides high and long down her back. She smooths down her untucked shirt.
“Sorry about that.” Aiden feels warmth, energy, an earthy musk from the guide. It lights something inside him, but he doesn’t trust that something. “Let’s keep moving, Cooper. Don’t touch anything.”
A chain of translucent orange flowers arch near the glass roof of the green house. Past the ceiling, the Space Needle rises into gray rain clouds.
“You’re thinking.” Calli says, and releases Aiden’s fingers.
“Yes.”
“What about?”
“How you’re made.” He follows the wandering flow of her hair down her shoulder blades.
“I’m made mostly to learn.” The straps of her summer dress are tied in tiny knots on her shoulders. He watches the slight movement when she asks, “Is this your first date with someone like me?”
“More like we’re sight-seeing together,” Aiden says.
“Like friends or tourists?” She asks.
“Or something entirely different…better. Travelers.”
“So, how are you made?” Calli’s still waiting for him to respond.
“Let’s just say that life made me.”
The sun’s slanting in through the windows behind Calli. “I’m sorry. You’re still caught in the sadness.” Calli’s voice, affected with concern, reminds him of the stillness in his home. A home filled with echoes of Emma’s soft words from when she still lived with them.
“Do you ever feel sad about anything?” he asks.
“Sad. Sure, but I don’t suffer.” Damn. They’d programmed her well.
Cooper’s found the exit toward the garden, and they follow.
“You haven’t had anything really hard happen then?” he asks.
“If I search my memory – yes there’s plenty.” She’s looking pensive, like she’s thinking.
“Like?”
“All the dates gone wrong in the world are in my memory. The poems written about sadness. Romance novels gone bad. All the complaints anyone’s posted on social media about bad lovers, husbands, wives, partners, that sort of thing. It’s all part of my memories.” Calli’s staring at him, and he pictures all that data behind her eyes, cursing through her brain.
“I posted something once – a question, about me and Emma.”
“That’s in my memory too, Aiden.”
“You have that data?” The worst moments of his life, she had access to those.
“Like I said, I remember all that is relevant to romance.”
“So how do you pick and choose which to focus on? And which to stuff to ignore?”
“Right now, I’m concentrating on us. Two people walking to see the exhibits. Talking about the world. Learning about each other. The past is just information.”
“I guess. But there’s always this distance for me in the present.”
“What causes that distance?” she asks.
“The past.” He holds the door open for her, and she walks through. Easy. None of Emma’s power struggle about who is holding the door open for who.
In the garden, yellow leaves tumble among blue bottle reeds. The glass flowers frozen in their prime. A bird perches on a neon green branch, whistling before taking off. Cooper jumps up to grab the branch and swings forward and back. Legs gets tossed on the ground near his feet.
“You’re better than my mom.” he says.
“Really? How.”
“For one, if I tell you to bring me a soda you have to bring it.”
“Cooper – “
“Soda gives you cavities.”
“I like cavities.”
“Why would you like cavities?
“Because I like soda.”
In her outstretched hand, the Calli holds a clear glass marble toward Aiden. “Here. Two more–then I have to go back.”
“Dad, you’re wearing her out.”
“I don’t think it’s me.”
The clear globe rolls around in his hand–information about the first part of their ‘date’ locked into the memory chip inside. Strange how there would be continuity of their time together. He tucks the marble into the velvet box.
“Don’t worry, Aiden. If we were in a room with bare walls and quiet then our time would last longer. But who wants to spend time in a room like that?”
“I’ve been in some rooms like that.”
The after-Emma-noons in his bedroom–only broken by Cooper’s incessant questions about where his mom had gone.
He could keep Calli. It would cost, but he could.
“There’s a demo!” Cooper runs ahead again–planting himself in front of the stage.
The guide with the ponytail’s twisting a rod with a viscous glow at the end. “Folks, please keep your distance as we do our thing here. If this falls, shards will scatter. We want to keep you safe.”
A tree of red branches twirls to Calli’s right – her fingers find his, warm and alive, like an electric heater.
The guide’s face is sweating red. Her shirt’s falling out the sides of her apron. A vase forms at the end of the blow pipe. When it’s solid, she rolls it in crushed blue powder. “From sand and particles–beauty.” And positions it next to other creations. “One slight turn, this way, that way, and the composition changes.”
She makes eye contact with Aiden – then her gaze moves away, and alights on Cooper. “See it won’t break now. If you stay until it cools, you can hold it.”
Like a skittish critter, Cooper runs back toward them.
“We’ve never seen anything like that. Thank you.” Aiden could stay and watch the glass blowing. It would be plenty for an afternoon—
“—Legs wants to see the Space Needle.”
Calli’s smile is pleasant, like a tour guide. “I can tell you its history, if you’d like to hear.”
“Has anyone jumped off of it?” Cooper asks.
“Yes,” Callie says.
“Did they die?” Oh, Cooper. Aiden doesn’t want to know where this is headed. Or why Cooper’s mind goes there.
“Don’t answer that.” Aiden says.
“I want to know.” Good ole’ Cooper with his drive for information.
“Which one do I answer?” Calli asks.
“Don’t answer his questions.” Aiden
“Then how am I supposed to know about the Space Needle?”
“Ask Calli how tall it is, things like that.”
“Is it taller than the Empire State building?”
As they exit through the gift shop, Cooper and Callie dive into a discussion about the tallest structures in the world. Toy robots circle and flip. Wind chimes jingle to a programmed rhythm. Woven blankets with ancient patterns decorate the walls. Towers of puzzles rise near the door. Through the crowd, the flannel shirt guy’s weaving. Calli’s breathing on Aiden’s neck, warm. When he turns to face her, there’s a smudge of lipstick near her mouth–different than Emma’s.
Flannel guy shoves in front of them. “Is she one of those escort bots?”
Aiden’s lost his grip on Cooper, and is scanning the room for his head, or a glimpse of his octopus. His fists tighten.
“Seriously. Those are so goddamn expensive to rent – but you’ve got her here?” The guy grabs her shoulder, gropes her breast. “It’s so lifelike. Say, doll face. Say something. Say something smart. What’s the square root of thirteen thousand four hundred sixty-nine?”
Another marble releases from Calli’s palm into Aiden’s. She’s staring ahead, suddenly expressionless. The marble fumbles–falls through his fingers, and rolls somewhere near his foot.
Aiden shoves the guy’s shoulder. He has to leave now. Find Cooper.
What’s this?” The guy’s bent over and when he stands, the marble with its memories of the garden is in his fingers.
The Calli snaps a photo of him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Information.”
“You’re really screwed up, man. On a date with your sex doll.” The man’s hiss lingers somewhere behind them.
Cooper’s at the entrance. Peaceful. Stoic. Mountains of puzzles tumble as Aiden pushes past. His fingers still wrapped around Calli’s. His breathing’s fast. Heart’s in his throat. “Cooper, Jesus. Do not leave my side, again.”
“You okay, Dad?”
He doesn’t let go of Cooper until they exit out into the rain and the concrete sidewalk of the plaza.
Calli’s got one hand on his back. “When something like that happens, it’s good to talk.”
“Okay. That guy was an ass. He ruined the whole damn afternoon. Is that what everyone wants to hear”
“His attitude, his touching, makes it hard for you. You’re suffering.”
“Right. And you’re not?”
“Better to store that information somewhere so it doesn’t interfere with our plans today.”
“Okay, then just tell me your spiel about the Space Needle.” He doesn’t have to be nice. She’s good though, this Calli, searching his face like she knows this isn’t what they should be talking about.
“It doesn’t seem like the right time for information about the Space Needle.”
They step in-line for the elevator.
“Why did you take the photo?” he asks.
“So, the other Calli’s know who to avoid. The maker likes to post those guys on their wall of shame.”
When the elevator doors open, their group squeezes in. Cooper finds a spot near the front, and stares at his hands. “Where’s Legs?”
Calli, in her smooth, even voice, responds. “In the Chihuly Glass Museum, by the stage.”
“Dad, we have to go back.”
The elevator lifts, through the glass doors, the city opens before them. The flannel guy might still be down there. Pressure builds in Aiden’s ears. “We’re here. Let’s just look around quick, then go.”
Cooper’s eyes are ready to spill. “Please, someone might take him.” The doors open to walls of windows – a thin layer between them, the city, and the clouds. The icy wind hits them. “Dad, there’s snow.” The mist has turned into tiny crystal flakes, swirling. “Calli, do bird fly this high?”
“Birds, usually fly under five hundred feet, but when migrating they will fly much higher.”
Out on the ledge, when Aiden leans against the glass he can’t help imagining the jump–then flying over the city. The Puget Sound horizon’s lit in silver and blue. Two cargo ships, motionless, mark time on the water. A jigsaw of houses covers the hills. He searches for theirs toward the east, but it’s too far. “God–the world’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Somewhere between the ground and sky he hears Calli ask, “Tell me more about the distance.”
“It’s so many things. Mostly it’s just hard for me to be myself,” he says.
“How about between us – do you feel distance?” she asks.
“Not in the same way, I suppose.”
“You could tell me something personal, then.”
“Well, if you were mine – yes probably. I could tell you some depressing things – about being alone.”
“I feel alone too, Aiden.”
“How’s that?”
“I feel happy viewing the Space Needle with you. Taking it all in. When I’m waiting at the booth or warehouse there are absences of time.”
“Okay – well how about this. What if you stayed with me? Would that make you happy?”
“It’s not the best thing for me.” Calli voice softens.
“Now you sound like the other women I date.” He brings her to where the floor rotates slowly like a conveyor belt.
“No. It’s not that. You are an interesting man, Aiden. Loving toward Cooper. It touches me. Being with many helps me to learn how to be more human.”
“Someone’s programmed you well.”
“When one is vulnerable – research shows most people respond with kindness.”
Cooper’s dragging his feet, head down, stops at the edge of where the carpet meets the turning glass floor. Calli walks out onto the transparent part of the floor, to where the roof of the museum is visible, hundreds of feet below. Her hand stretches out to him. “There is zero chance you will fall.”
That primitive part of his brain, the part that’s wired to his heart, won’t let him take the next step. Just one step off the carpet and they would enjoy the view. She would care for him. She’d never leave. Her brain would help them find safety in the probabilities of all events. Worries about love would be gone. He won’t fall through this floor with Calli. But he just can’t join her. Can’t.
“Dad, please can we go look for Legs now?”
“It’s people that are vulnerable, Calli.” Aiden says this like she’s really real.
Her smile freezes. Date over. The third marble falls from her fingers, clanging on the glass. Rolling toward him. He holds on to the wall at the edge of that ledge. Two marbles are left in his hand. One will remain with the Flannel guy.
“Yes, let’s go back and look.”
He reports Calli’s location for pick-up to the dealer. He has a discount on future dates if he brings the two marbles. For additional money, he can recreate the missing portion of his time, and pick-up from where they left off.
When they enter the museum again, it’s close to closing. The halls echo with the footsteps of remaining tourists. Cooper runs to where the demo had been. At the stage, the guide’s waiting, her hair in wisps around her face.
“This guy seems to really like glass demos.” She hands Legs to Cooper.
“Do you like video games?” Cooper asks her.
“Oh, yeah. AI Apocalypse and a can of soda is my favorite.” The guide’s smiling.
“Yes!”
“Lucy,” she says to Aiden.
“Is it sand that gets melted together? Or shards and remains?” Aiden asks.
“Shards and remains are my favorite.” Her smile is awkward, and her lips are cracked.
“Here, then.” He hands her the two glass marbles. “Turn these into something beautiful.”
Leave a Reply