by John Faubion
The sun was setting across the fields and glorious colors stretched themselves across the western sky. Just a little farther ahead on the left was his house, a tricycle still parked on the lawn next to the driveway.
As promised, dinner was on the table. Also, as promised, it was the delicious lasagna that first Rachel’s mother, and now Rachel, had made a family favorite. June Anderson had acquired the recipe from a young Italian lady when she was in college, an exchange student from Naples. Rachel was the inheritor of that wonderful recipe.
Scotty sat in his booster seat. Angela was perched in a high chair. When he came in the door, both children exclaimed in unison, “Daddy!” Rachel pressed a kiss to his lips. It was just the kind of welcome he loved.
Scott led his family in prayer, thanking God for the food and for His goodness to them all that day. Both the children said “Amen.”
Rachel, wearing a long, flowery “Yes, I make that too!” apron, went after the lasagna with a wide spatula.
Scott’s mouth was already full when she said, “Scott, I have come across the most amazing thing. You will not believe it.”
He bobbed his head up and down and pointed to his mouth.
“I know you’re like Mr. Computer, but I think this is really going to surprise you.”
He swallowed enough to allow him to speak. “Tell me about it. What happened?”
“Later, after we are alone. You’ll have to see it to believe it. How was your day?”
She leaned forward and Scott caught a glimpse of Rachel’s curves under her T-shirt. Seeing really is believing and what he saw was better than even the lasagna.
“My day? Ha! You do not want to know.” He punctuated each word and smiled grimly. “And that’s also the kind of news I’ll save till we’re alone, if at all.”
Bringing all that home felt wrong anyway. Rachel worked so hard keeping the house, he didn’t need her worrying about his own job security. Tonight might be different, though. He wanted Rachel to be there for him; to lean on her a little bit and have her understanding.
Scotty was transforming his lasagna into a fort and already had little pieces of sausage shelling the inhabitants inside. Angela had begun squirming, a pained expression on her face. Time to go to the bathroom.
“Angela, I told you to go potty before we sat down.” Rachel plucked her out of the high chair and carried her off down the hall on her hip.
“Who’s going to win that battle, Scotty?”
Scotty looked at his father, his face a mask of incredulity. “Daddy, it’s just food. Nobody wins. It’s not real.” Then he picked up his fork and scraped all the weapons into a pile, scooped them up on the fork, and ate them.
Rachel got Angela back into her high chair, where she began decorating her face with what was left of her lasagna. She looked at her little girl, sighed, and began eating her own food.
“Who invented food?”
“What?”
“Who invented food, Daddy? What did people eat before they invented food?”
“Write that one down somewhere, Rachel. Someday when he’s a teenager we’ll remind him when he needs to be humbled.”
Scott put both the children to bed while Rachel did the dishes downstairs.
Scott turned the bedroom light off. “Daddy, do we have bears in our house?” asked Angela.
“No, sweetheart. No bears around here. You can go to sleep and not worry about bears.”
“We’ve got spiders. I saw one today. Mom killed it,” said Scotty.
“Daddy, will spiders get me?”
“No, the spiders will not get you. Scotty, quit scaring your sister, okay?”
Eventually he closed their doors and went downstairs, heaving a sigh of relief. As he stepped off the last stair he began to feel like he had sloughed the weight of the world off his shoulders.
Rachel had fixed some coffee and pulled two chairs up to the computer in the living room. “Sit here, Scott. This is going to amaze you.”
Scott sat down to see what Rachel was so excited about, sipping the hot coffee. The mug felt warm in his hands. It was going to have to be something pretty special to impress him, especially if it was something to do with the computer. He saw enough of computers during the day to last a lifetime.
Rachel clicked a shortcut on her desktop. The Internet browser expanded onto the screen, and then Scott heard a female voice say, “I’m here.” The face of Rachel’s old friend Suzanne formed before them.
“Watch this, Scott.” She picked up the microphone. “Suzanne, Scott is here.”
“How wonderful. Please tell him ‘hello’ for me.” Suzanne’s lips kept perfect sync with the words. It looked like Suzanne. It sounded like Suzanne.
Unreal. Scott jerked his head back. “What in the world?” Then he leaned in toward the screen, searching for the trick. He looked back to Rachel. “Rachel, what is this? Did Suzanne record this before she . . .”
She mouthed, “No, no . . .” and stabbed her finger toward the screen. “Just watch,” she whispered to him.
“Can’t you tell him ‘hello’ yourself?” asked Rachel.
“No, I’m afraid that’s one of our limitations. I’m your friend, and that’s exclusive to you. I don’t know Scott in the same sense I know you. But I certainly know about him, don’t I? And I’m so glad both of you are seated here together. I know I was a friend of both of you.”
“Rachel, what is going on?” He held the arms of the chair as if he would fly into the air unanchored. “That really does look like Suzanne.”
“That’s the whole idea, silly. It is supposed to. Actually it just about is Suzanne. I’ve spent days designing her. The whole idea is she is just like the real Suzanne used to be.”
Voice tinged with wonder, Scott asked, “But how can you do something like that? I mean, where did you learn to do such a thing?”
“It’s all on a website called VirtualFriendMe.com. It’s amazing.”
Rachel told him how she’d provided all the information on Suzanne.
Scott asked, “But these aren’t real people, are they? I mean, these people don’t actually exist, right?”
“No, but they are so close to real sometimes you don’t even know the difference. Does she look like Suzanne, or doesn’t she?”
She. Rachel used the personal pronoun. Not it, but she. Scott looked at the screen and saw Suzanne incline her head slightly, as if waiting for Rachel to speak to her again. “Yes, it really is amazing. Rachel, let me just watch you for a few minutes while you interact with this, this Suzanne. I want to see how it works, okay?”
“Sure. I won’t say it was easy to get all this set up, but it certainly has been worth it. One of the things I told them all about was our wedding. I can talk to Suzanne,” she pointed at the screen, “just as if she had really been there. Watch this.”
“Suzanne, do you remember my wedding dress?”
Her mouth formed an O. “Oh, yes.” She nodded slowly. “Of course I do, and I remember how your mother fussed about it, how she was so careful to make sure it was just perfect. Mothers are like that, aren’t they? I should mention, I don’t remember very much about my own mother. Maybe someday you’ll refresh my memory on that. Would that be okay?”
“Yes, I will. I’ll make a note about that right now.” Rachel wrote a note on a slip of paper. Scott saw other things already written there, no doubt things she wanted to include in Suzanne’s education.
The image that was Suzanne tilted her head. “Rachel, there’s something I would like to ask you. May I?”
“Of course you can. What is it?”
“Have you considered opening a free checking account at Old National Bank? If you maintain a balance of fifteen hundred dollars, there is absolutely no charge for the account. Plus, it earns interest, the same interest you would get on a CD.”
“What? What was that about?” asked Scott, chuckling. “Did she just ask you to open a checking account?”
Rachel laughed and rolled
her eyes. “Yes, that’s one of the things that happens. If you’re using the free service, like I am, you have to accept the advertising too. If you want to skip the advertising you have to sign up for their premium service.”
“How much is that?”
“Fifteen dollars a month.”
Scott considered the cost and the apparent value. “Actually, that’s not very much money for what you’re getting. Especially in this case.”
Rachel always talked about how lonely she was when he was at work. He put his hand on hers and looked into her eyes. “Would having this every day be a big help to you?”
“Oh, Scott. I feel kind of embarrassed about the whole thing. But yes, I think it would. I know this isn’t really Suzanne. Not really, but she’s just so realistic, so lifelike, and it helps me during the day. At least it has so far.”
“Besides no ads, what else do the fifteen dollars get you?”
“At the end of the month I won’t be able to see her face anymore. That’s also part of the premium service. But she’ll still send e-mails and still be a friend to me on Facebook.”
“Amazing,” said Scott. “Absolutely amazing. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. If you like it, and it’s a help to you, then just do it. I don’t care about the fifteen dollars.”
Rachel threw her arms around Scott. “Oh, Scott, thank you so much. Even if this isn’t real, well, it’s just nice, know what I mean?”
Scott hugged his wife back. “Sure, I understand, and it all seems harmless enough. What could go wrong?”
CHAPTER TEN
Virtual Friend Me
Everyone at the offices of Virtual Friend Me was in a festive mood. After five years of research and development the company was finally ready for its big Go-Live event.
Melissa looked down and studied her hands. Did her own excitement show? She had been in on this since almost the very beginning. They were formally opening up their virtual friend technology to the world.
Later, when they had their IPO, everyone with the company for four years or more would be given the opportunity to buy stock at a preferred price. They all anticipated they were about to become very rich people.
Melissa joined Dan Hammersmith as he gathered his inner circle in the executive conference room. The press releases had already been prepared and the reporters were waiting in the first-floor amphitheater. He stood before them this morning reveling in the success that the company had already begun to enjoy.
“This is a big day for all of us.” He looked around the table at his most trusted technicians and advisers. All were there.
“This has not been the success of one person, but of an entire group. We often use the word ‘team’ around here, and there’s never been an organization where the team concept has been more true than it has been among those of us in this room.”
Melissa paid close attention as Dan spoke. His words, though formal and expected, were also true. The virtual friend prototype had been in beta testing for the past three months. It had already proven itself to be a major success. Praise from the early adopters and beta users overshadowed complaints and bug reports a hundred to one, something almost unheard of in software development.
Without fanfare, VirtualFriendMe.com had rolled out its beta program to see who would discover what they were offering simply by using web searches and word-of-mouth. Already thousands of people had discovered the virtual friend website and started using the product. There was no doubt about its success.
Even so, the abusers had already begun to crawl out of the woodwork. Nothing illegal, but 53 percent of men had chosen a female friend. These men were taking something good, something designed to help, and twisting it to satisfy their own perverted male ends. Melissa knew something about men, all right. Nothing surprised her on that score.
During the initial testing one developer had designed his female friend to look just like the wife of his best friend. That had not worked well, and he was now looking for another job.
One by one, Dan named the people in the room and spoke about their accomplishments. When he came to Melissa he paused and stared up toward the ceiling. Tight-lipped, he seemed to struggle for the right words. “There is one person, however, to whom we all owe a particularly great debt of gratitude.” He looked around briefly then nodded toward Melissa. “Without Melissa, we would not have a product to sell. We all owe much to her, her efforts, and the accomplishments of her team.
“Most of you here today remember Aaron Getz. Aaron was the one who first brought up the concept of the virtual friend. One of the last things Aaron did before his untimely death four years ago was to choose Melissa for second place in the development team. He hired her to work directly under him because he saw in this young woman the drive, the energy, and the genius to carry off the ideals and goals of VirtualFriendMe. It was a dark weekend for us when we lost Aaron. I feared for our success, my friends. But Melissa stepped up to the plate swinging. We’ve never had to look back.
“Our original goal was to simply provide a textual virtual friend experience for our users. We anticipated that through Facebook, MyLife, and other social networking sites our users would be able to design and construct a virtual friend that could interact with them on their birthdays, send them e-mails, chat with them online, and do all the things that a remote friend, a real physical friend, would do. We never imagined back then we would be able to have the visual representation of a virtual person that we have today. I say this is a good time for us to all give Melissa Montalvo a sincere round of applause and thanks for the hard work that she and her team have done.”
Everyone in the room turned toward Melissa. Murmurs of approval ran throughout the crowd. Melissa nodded, thankful for their praise, and looked back at Dan while he waited for the applause to subside.
“And now, my friends, I think we can talk to the reporters and let our public know just exactly what’s going on. I’ve asked our directors of marketing and software development to be present with me for the interview and answer reporters’ questions as they arise.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dan Hammersmith called the meeting together for the Go-Live event. He spoke to the assembled reporters and other people that had come, and talked to them of the potential and future for the VirtualFriendMe business model.
One of the reporters asked, “Can you explain to us how the virtual friend actually works?”
Dan Hammersmith called for Melissa to step forward to the microphone. “I would like to introduce Ms. Melissa Montalvo to all of you this morning. Melissa is our chief software scientist. She is the brains behind the brains.” Then he bowed and motioned for Melissa to step forward. “Melissa, would you please explain to the people how the user experience works?”
Melissa stepped forward to the microphone. “When a user comes to VirtualFriendMe.com for the first time they meet a person we call Jane. Now, Jane is not a real person in the sense that you and I are real. She is a virtual person. She is what we call our introducer.”
A couple of the reporters raised their hands wanting to ask questions. Dan asked them to hold their questions until Melissa was done.
“After Jane appears on the screen, we try to determine if the user is a male or a female. We do that by asking the person’s name. If we can’t determine it from the name we may ask a few more questions until we know the gender of the person using the system at that time.
“It’s Jane’s job to make the user feel comfortable and at home. Most people coming to us will be looking to design and construct a virtual friend with whom they can interact. Jane will ask them the questions required to determine the characteristics of that virtual friend. Let me illustrate. It is natural and normal for people to seek approval from their friends. Sometimes this is hard to accomplish in real life. The user may want to construct a virtual friend that has all the characteristics of what a good friend should have and offer the approval and encouragement her friend would give. For example, a painter may want someone
who will come online with them every day and ask them how their painting is going, find out if they’re keeping up their painting schedule, and if they’re having any problems. Someone who will remember their birthday, someone who will send encouraging notes during the day or week.
“Consider also the stay-at-home person. Maybe a senior citizen who cannot go out as easily as he or she could in the past. Once the virtual friend is constructed, that person can expect an encouraging e-mail every day. He or she can expect to be remembered on Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day, and other special times.
“Really, the possibilities are endless. And the person who uses our service consistently will find that over time the virtual friend that he or she constructs will become more and more realistic, lifelike, and fine-tuned to their personalities than we can even begin to imagine right now. This is the future, and it’s now. VirtualFriendMe.com is the leading edge of artificial intelligence and we’re going to make life better for very many people.”
A middle-aged reporter from a Chicago newspaper raised her hand. “I have a friend who recently lost her husband after fifty years of marriage. Would it be practical to think that she could re-create her husband in this way? I mean, could she construct something that would be able to interact with her in the same way that her husband would have if he had lived?”
All eyes in the room swiveled back to Melissa. People were starting to catch on. Already it had moved from the simple friend with a birthday card to the resurrection of a dead man.
“Yes, to an extent. We have anticipated just exactly such a situation. The way it works is very simple in concept. Our introducer, Jane, will ask a series of questions to determine the user’s particular needs. In the case of a departed loved one, we have profiles already built up anticipating the emotional needs that go along with losing someone who has been dear to them. We even give the user the capability of uploading photographs to our website so that we can construct a virtual image of the lost loved one. A virtual person that can interact with the user as if the person were actually present.” She looked about her, seeing the looks of amazement on the faces of the reporters. She forced a smile. They would need some convincing.