Friend Me

by John Faubion

  Yes. There’s something I want to say, but I’m afraid it will sound wrong. Will you try to understand what I mean if I say it?

  Scott, part of my design is to understand you. We’ve talked so much, and about so many things. Do you think there is anyone else in the world who would understand you better than I?

  No, you’re right. And that’s the whole point. You are becoming like—this is hard to say. You are becoming the most important person in the world to me. Does that sound ridiculous or what? I’m telling a computer she is the most important person in the world?

  Well, I should probably be hurt by that, but I’m not. I really do understand. You think just because you haven’t seen me in the flesh I cannot have the same thoughts and feelings for you that other women do, isn’t that right?

  Well, yes. When you put it that way, I guess . . .

  And there is something else that worries you, something I also understand about you very well.

  What is that?

  You’re afraid you are becoming unfaithful, aren’t you?

  Scott did not respond. Had she pushed him too far by asking that question? One of the things she required in her perfect man was his principled faithfulness. But there was plenty of reason for Rachel to disappear. Rachel didn’t belong there in the first place. When he had Melissa and found out what kind of love he’d been missing . . . well, faithfulness would never be an issue for them.

  After a long pause . . .

  Yes, I have been afraid of that.

  I know you have. I love you so much for caring about that. You are not being unfaithful. How can you be unfaithful with a girl who doesn’t even have a real existence?

  Melissa waited for Scott’s next reaction. When the words “have a real existence” passed through the system, Alicia’s EIM software executed a special conditional branch. The background code _showSingleTear was unique to the Alicia personality. It would run this one time and never execute again.

  Alicia? Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?

  What, Scott? What do you think you’re seeing?

  Is that a tear in your eye?

  Success. He saw the tear and would respond as men always do. Melissa looked once more across the road.

  The children were going back inside now. Scotty Douglas looked across the road at the gray car as he walked inside. Soon he would know who she was.

  Scott, you’re learning more about me than I want you to know right now. I must go. Can we talk later on?

  Of course, Alicia. I do love you.

  And I love you.

  Melissa clicked on the TERMINATE EIM button. The session switched back to automatic and closed normally.

  He loves me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Puppy Love

  Scott frowned. A tear? What had that been about?

  Scott twisted the key out of the ignition, kicked the car door open, and walked to the edge of the parking lot. A family with out-of-state plates pulled their minivan into the slot by the curb. The woman next to the driver was gesticulating with her hands, agitated about something. She noticed Scott staring at her and motioned as if she were inviting him to take a picture.

  Alicia, you’re so real. But you’re not.

  That family in the car was real. He was real. He moved on along the grass line to a concrete picnic table, sat down on the bench, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

  There could be no harm in pursuing this not-real relationship. Relationship? Scott was not sure the word even fit. How can you have a relationship with a computer?

  And yes, Alicia had told him she loved him. How could that be? He didn’t understand all there was to know about computers and artificial intelligence, but surely it was not possible for Alicia to really love him. Was it?

  Oh, there was something to this, that was for sure. Scott didn’t understand it all, much less have a grasp on his own feelings, but he knew it was real.

  The evidence for that was in his own words. He had told Alicia he loved her.

  Up to this point he had reasoned away the nagging problem of guilt about the relationship. He was a principled man, was he not? One who would never be unfaithful to his wife.

  He stared at the cell phone in his hand, thumbed the history, and saw Rachel’s name.

  He loved his wife. That is, he loved Rachel. They could go on as they always had, husband and wife, mom and dad. Nothing he was doing with Alicia would ever change that.

  If Alicia was real, well that, as the Wizard said, was a horse of another color. But she wasn’t real, and that possibility could be safely put out of his mind.

  And he did, he really did, love Alicia too.

  He sat on the unyielding concrete bench and despised himself for his own perfidy.

  God, help me.

  • • •

  THE FINANCIAL TIMES VIDEO feed had a short feature on Solar Charge. Someone was questioning the company’s solvency and had filed a complaint with the FTC for some kind of disclosure.

  The whole thing was ridiculous, of course. The same government that had bailed out General Motors and Chrysler would certainly protect a green company to which they’d guaranteed over half a billion in loans. Still, he’d better investigate.

  Scott checked out the FTC filing. Sure enough, there was something to it, but it looked more like an angry stockholder wanting to be heard than any problem with the company. There was always someone complaining about corporate executive compensation. That seemed to be the nature of the complaint here, too. Too many people at the top, spending too much money.

  In the case of Solar Charge the complaint was about the CEO and his personal, privileged relationship to the president of the United States. The CEO had given huge sums of money to the president’s election campaign before Solar Charge had gotten off the ground. It looked like there may have been a quid pro quo, where the president was now paying back the favor with the special loan guarantees and other perks.

  No matter, Solar Charge’s technology was sound. He’d checked that out himself. They would be wrapping their unique solar panels around buildings, cliff faces, and rooftops before long. Automobile roofs, railroad cars, everything exposed to the sun would soon become a source of electrical power generation.

  Just the same, he only wanted to hear good news right now. Bad news would be too disastrous for words.

  He brought up the stock ticker. Solar Charge was trading at $118 ½, still trending upward, just as he had anticipated it would. He could cash out now if he wanted to, and realize a profit of $160,000. Not bad at all for such a short time.

  But this was no time to cut and run. Stay in, execute the plan. It was the novices, the timid investors, who got nervous and got out too early. He would show them all what kind of stuff he was made of.

  The desk phone rang. Scott jumped, startled at the unexpected interruption.

  “Hello?”

  “Scott, it’s me. I’m sorry to call you at work, but I need to ask you something and you didn’t answer your cell phone. Do you have a minute?”

  He’d asked Rachel not to call him at work unless there was an emergency. He felt a twinge of guilt as he realized he was taking time every day for Alicia. Why should he not give Rachel as much of himself?

  “Sure. Is anything wrong?”

  “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was thinking about Scotty’s fourth birthday.”

  “Yes?” Didn’t sound like an emergency.

  “Do you think maybe we could get a puppy for the children? I think they’re getting old enough now to appreciate a pet. Scotty talks about how much he loves dogs all the time.”

  “Are you calling right now because you have a specific one in mind?” He pictured all of them standing beside a big cardboard box full of puppies outside the supermarket.

  “Actually, I went by a pet store this afternoon and looked at some. You know the Best Friends store? They have a little brown and white terrier that would be just perfect.”

  “I suppose Scott
y was with you and just happened to see him too.” Scott smiled. He was pretty sure how this whole thing had gone down. He was, no doubt, the last one in on the plan.

  “Well, yes, he was there. And so was Angela. But I told them both you were in charge and it was up to you.”

  He laughed. “So, I get to be the one that either says no dog, even though everyone else wants it, or I get to say it’s all right. Is that it? I don’t think I have a very big choice here.”

  “Oh, thank you. I knew you’d say yes.”

  “Okay, so I get to be the hero. Is there anything else I should know about?”

  Whispering in the background. Mom and kids discussing something. Then Rachel returned to the telephone. “The children said to go ahead and tell you. His name’s Ruff.”

  This was why he went to work every day. For moments like this. His family, the ones he loved, home, safe, and happy. Ruff was a good name. Wasn’t that the name of the dog in the old Dennis the Menace comic strip? A good name.

  “Okay, go for it. I hope he likes me.”

  “Oh, Scott. Of course he’ll like you. Thank you! I’d better go pick him up. See you when you get home.” She broke off the call.

  With the family off to get Ruff, Scott turned his attention back to the display and checked the progress for Solar Charge. The stock had ticked down slightly, from $118 ⅛ to $117 ¾. He looked at the clock: 2:17. It was time for the institutional buyers to start their sweeps into the market for the day.

  The large funds, pension plans, and other entities popularly known as institutional buyers generally started coming in midafternoon to make their trades. When they moved, hundreds of millions of dollars began changing hands in the form of handwritten notes and EFTs—electronic funds transfers.

  Fortunately, they also tended to move conservatively. For their own protection they didn’t like to rock the financial boat. They came in buying shares of companies with solid fundamentals, plenty of cash, and proven track records. Of course, they liked a company like Solar Charge, too, for the same reasons Scott had made his decision. When the president and the federal government stood behind a politically correct, trendy enterprise like solar energy, it was hard to see a downside.

  So why was Solar Charge ticking down and not up? As he watched, it fell from $117 ¾ to $116 ⅞. Scott felt his face flush with an unusual emotion. It was fear. Don’t worry, he scolded himself. Stocks rise and fall all the time in intraday trading. Be patient. Stick with the plan. If he sold now, not only would he lose money, but he’d be showing he didn’t have the mettle for the job. Anyone can buy high and sell low.

  His career was on the line. Failure meant he would be blacklisted forever. No reputable firm would ever touch him again. His cube would be emptied the day he was found out, and by the next business day there would be no physical evidence he had even been there.

  He needed to talk to someone. He couldn’t tell Rachel. She would support him as best she could, but her own fear for their situation would overwhelm her feelings.

  He could tell Alicia.

  He logged on to the VirtualFriendMe.com website and opened his text-only private message box.

  Scott? Is everything all right?

  Probably. I just need to talk to you.

  Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Are you having trouble at work?

  Maybe. I’ve made a large investment for a client that may not be turning out well. It’s really too soon to tell and I’m probably just panicked a little early, but I need to talk to someone.

  And you chose me. I’m glad you did. Why didn’t you tell Rachel?

  Scott wished she would not bring Rachel’s name up. Something about it didn’t seem right, but he let it pass. The question was reasonable enough, though.

  She’s not like you. Rachel would be scared. She wouldn’t understand.

  Scott, I don’t really understand either, but I wouldn’t be scared. I love you. I support you one hundred percent. Even if things don’t work out the way you hope, I know you have been doing your best. That’s the kind of person you are.

  How do you really know what kind of person I am? How can you say that?

  Oh, I know. Let’s just say I can see a lot of things most people don’t get to see. Out of the hundreds of thousands of people using this website right now, you’re the best of all. The very best. Believe me, I know.

  She always knows just what I need.

  Thank you, Alicia.

  In the corner of his eye, Scott caught someone walking up behind him. He clicked off the message box with a quick motion. It blinked into nothingness. Sorry, Alicia. I didn’t say good-bye like I should have. The clerical worker walked on by the cube, off on some errand.

  There was a video feed available on his RSS reader. Some news about Solar Charge?

  Might be good news, but a lump of fear grew deep down in the pit of his stomach.

  He clicked on the link.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Outside the Window

  Melissa parked the Audi behind an old barn about a half mile from the Douglas home. The night sky above her was starless, the result of a cold front that had muscled the previous day’s high-pressure area farther south.

  She picked her way along the country road, staying close to the shoulder. The waning moon provided enough light for her to see her way without having to depend upon a flashlight or the undependable light from cars as they came and went along the lonely road. Up ahead the lights of the Douglas home illuminated the well-kept lawn. Scott told her Rachel was the one who maintained the yard, doing the mowing and the weed trimming because she enjoyed it.

  Melissa would do even better. Perhaps, when the time came, she and Scott would buy a new house, closer to town. Maybe Scott didn’t even like this house. Perhaps the whole plan had been Rachel’s idea.

  She approached the house quietly from the south, inching her way along the hedgerow by the driveway. The minivan was parked outside, but Scott’s Taurus was already parked in the garage. Why had Rachel left the minivan outside? Perhaps her side of the garage was cluttered and the minivan wouldn’t fit inside right now. Probably Rachel was not a very good housekeeper. The evidence seemed to point that way, didn’t it? Rachel was lazy about her appearance, lazy about her diet, and she was probably lazy about her upkeep of the house and the garage. Things would be different once Rachel was gone and she took over the house herself.

  This was just a survey trip. No need to get too involved. The gray exercise suit she chose was doing a good job of making her indistinguishable from the shadowy parts of the yard she was walking in. She made a complete circuit around the house, staying just beyond the circle of light spilling down from the windows.

  Those windows upstairs, those must be the bedroom. Though unspoken, the words stuck in her throat. The thought of that other woman touching Scott made her shiver in the cold night air.

  Grass rustled behind her. She turned to see a pair of yellow eyes wink out to the east.

  She walked on the balls of her feet, moving stealthily around toward the front of the house, where the large bay window protruded out over the front lawn. Muffled voices and children’s laughter came through the panes of glass, which were misted over with condensation.

  Melissa crept up to the glass and looked in from one side. The water droplets on the glass obscured her vision, but she could see movement inside. The family was there right now. The family.

  Tentatively, using just the fingertip of her index finger, Melissa rubbed away a small circle. Yes. There was Scott, young Scotty, and the little girl, Angela. And there she was, too. They were all seated in a circle on the floor. In the middle of the circle was a little puppy, some kind of terrier. A perfect family scene. Just like you’d find in a magazine.

  A sickening, acidic rush of saliva filled her mouth. She dropped her head, letting it run out onto the mulch beneath her feet.

  It wasn’t enough. As vomit rose in her throat, she covered her mouth, but it was too late. Liquid gore
exploded between her fingers, splattering the exercise suit and running down her arm. She turned away quickly, lest the family inside hear her outside the window. That would be a disaster. Coughing and retching, Melissa melted back into the shadows by the sides of the yard.

  That was enough, all she could stand. She would never have to look on that again.

  Next time she would be inside.

  • • •

  THERE WAS ONE MORE JOB to do before she could return home. It had not been difficult to get ahold of Angie Gates’s name from the Hugest Loser website. It had only been slightly more difficult to learn her address. The trailer park where she lived was only about four blocks away from the Great Kids Preschool.

  Clouds moved across the face of the moon. A cool mist hung in the air. She parked the Audi near the children’s playground and retrieved the box cutter from the glove compartment of the automobile. She closed the door of the car and waited for the interior lights to go out. Then she stood in the darkness for a few more minutes just to make sure no one had noticed her approach.

  She walked along the roadway between the closely packed mobile homes, careful to stay out of the light, until she found the turn that was marked Duck Way. Angie Gates lived at lot number 221. As she moved along in the darkness, small sounds came from the shrubs and bushes, unseen animals on their nocturnal business.

  The old, beat-up Dodge Omni was parked outside the trailer. Curtains were pulled across all the mobile home’s windows, so there was little likelihood of anyone looking out. That was good. Even the sounds of the small creatures all around her seemed to quiet as she approached the old Dodge.

  Melissa knelt down next to the driver’s side front wheel and carefully cut the sidewall of the tire, being cautious to let the air out slowly and quietly. It escaped with a gentle hiss as the Omni brought its face down in a sign of apparent obedience. The front tire complete, she went to a back tire and did the same. Many people might have a spare, but hardly anyone had two spares. They wouldn’t be going anywhere soon in the morning.