The Perfect

by Greg Juhn

  I realized I didn’t have a discreet way to carry the thing out of here. I excused myself, worked my way back across the room, looking for anything suitable that I could use. On the far side I saw a grocery bag that had been abandoned on a refreshments table. I grabbed the bag and returned to my father and his friends.

  “Nice evening, isn’t it?” I asked the white-haired ladies. I was a little out of breath. They smiled nice smiles and agreed. This particular group wasn’t talkative. I knew them well. They all had advanced Alzheimer’s and the staff usually grouped them together. They did little more than stare at each other. They couldn’t hear well, anyway.

  I figured the best move was pluck it out quickly and casually. I doubted any of them would even notice or care. But now, it was gone.

  “No way,” I said.

  Dad was holding it in his hand, resting it on the table next to an unopened box of checkers that the staff had left for the residents. He held it up. “Does anyone know what this is?” He asked.

  One of his female companions raised a feeble hand. “Yes. It’s Winky.”

  “Dad, I need that back.”

  I began to pry it out of his hands. His grip was weak and he let go without a fight.

  “You’re always taking things from me,” he said in a surly tone.

  “Sometimes I have to,” I replied and dropped it quickly in the bag. I kissed his cheek. “I will be back to visit again soon.”

  Bounty in hand, and cursing Barry and Josh and NeoMechi, I returned to the car and high-tailed it out of there. I mentally added anatomical accessories to my official complaint list. I wasn’t sure why Josh’s member bothered me so much. It was a sophomoric gimmick added by the engineers. I guess on some level I sensed the dreary ways that people in the future would make use of male and female robot parts, before the robots completely took over.

  Indira had arrived. Josh was holding court in the living room, sitting on the sofa with one arm behind her. She sipped wine. As I greeted them, Josh asked me what I had in the bag. The bastard. “It’s your medication,” I said. “Full strength, like you asked.”

  He laughed. “TJ, every now and then, you are pretty quick on your feet.”

  I grunted in response and went into my room, dropping the bag into a dresser drawer. I had to compose myself. This side adventure had me frazzled.

  In the front room, I poured myself a Glenturret, sipped from the glass and shut my eyes for a moment. Calmed down, relaxed. Then I joined them. Josh was spinning tales of his adventures in China. The stories were as fake as his manhood. He spun a story on-the-fly about riding a feisty camel for seven days across a desert in Gansu Province. And then a tale of his trip down the Yangtze River where he had stopped for a few days at a fishing village to help build a water purifier to remove toxic chemicals that leached into the groundwater.

  “China is an amazing place,” he said. “In Sanya there is a large Buddhist statue looking out over the South China Sea. You would love it. The figure is over 350 feet high and has three heads. The entire thing weighs over 500 tons. It is a massive statue in a land riddled in huge Buddhas.”

  “I would love to go to China,” Indira said.

  “But then you go to Guiyu where they have a pile of garbage 18 miles long. Your jaw would drop because you can’t see the end of it. They have entire villages in this mountain of garbage where people spend their whole lives. All day long little children are breaking down circuit boards, up to their chins in lead solder, melting it down for re-use in manufacturing electronics.”

  I returned to the front room for a refill. I wasn’t in the mood for hearing about stuff like that. Indira nodded with each new story, adding similar tales about life in India.

  I stood in the doorway with my glass of whiskey, tapping the side with my finger.

  “I like offbeat places,” Josh was saying. “Like this small city called Yiwu, where 80 or 90 factories crank out Christmas ornaments all year long. Millions and millions of ornaments – more than 90% of the world’s supply. I toured a factory and everyone was covered in paint and sparkles. There was bright red all over the floors, the walls, the bathrooms, just splattered everywhere. They breathe paint spray all day long and die of lung cancer twenty years later. In the gift shop I was persuaded to buy a T-shirt that says, in English, Merry Christmas from China! Yup, that is the spirit of Christmas, cranked out in a Chinese factory, flown across the ocean, stored in a warehouse somewhere, then off to brighten your living room with shiny good cheer!"

  Where was he getting this stuff? He was probably scraping it verbatim off someone’s RantzSite. Or maybe he was making it all up.

  Eventually he noticed me leaning in the doorframe, straight-faced, unamused. His arms froze in an upward sweep, two feet apart, to indicate the size of the mouth on a monster river fish he had caught in the Yangtze. His arms dropped.

  “Well, enough about China,” he said. “TJ, where have you been?”

  I sat on a chair several feet from the sofa upon which the two of them had drawn closer. “I’ve been in the kitchen. It’s not as exciting as the Yangtze.” I tipped my glass back, staring at him.

  He sensed awkwardness and clapped his hands on his knees. “Please excuse me for a minute.” Rising from his chair, he headed to the bathroom. I coughed as he passed and continued staring at the bathroom door long after he had shut it.

  Indira slid closer to me. “Is something bothering you?” She reached over and put a hand on my knee.

  “I don’t know the square root of minus four. Maybe I did, a long time ago.”

  “That’s what’s been bothering you?”

  I sighed. “No. Not that specifically. I’ve just been feeling really stupid lately. That was one of my son’s homework questions. I didn’t have a clue. You probably know the answer.”

  “It’s 2i.”

  “See? You do know. You and Josh are well versed, I’ll say that.”

  She noted the jealousy. “Don’t feel bad, I took a lot of math.”

  I swirled the golden liquid in my glass, feeling removed, my mind wandering. “Even after Josh explained the answer to me, I still didn’t know what it meant. Why do they even come up with stuff like that? What’s the point of learning imaginary things?”

  “I like imaginary things,” she answered. “What about zero? That number doesn’t represent anything in the real world, but I’d call zero a useful idea. For example, first there was one Josh. Now...” She pointed to his empty seat. “No Josh.”

  “I agree, that’s useful.”

  He appeared and took a seat beside her.

  “Never mind,” she said.

  “Is it my imagination or are we talking math?” he asked. He slapped my shoulder. “Way to jazz up the conversation, TJ!"

  I grunted and rubbed my temple, then explained that I needed to excuse myself for a few minutes. I said my temple was pounding, which wasn’t true, and that I needed to run down the street for a bottle of Alertol.

  In truth, I wanted to eavesdrop on them. See what was going on.

  I threw on a light coat and made an obvious show of heading out the door, making sure to produce a loud thud as I closed it behind me. I sneaked down the steps, ran across my yard while ducking low, and up my back porch.

  I held my ring to the back door and the latch clicked quietly. Ever so carefully, I stepped inside. I entered the mud room. They had relocated to the kitchen. Stepping as softly as I could, I padded to the pantry, which had a door at both ends. I pulled the door shut behind me to keep it dark inside and made my way to the other side, cautious not to knock anything over. I peeked into the kitchen through a small crack in the other door. They were standing by the sink.

  Josh lifted a mug from the countertop emblazoned with the infinity symbol:

  Underneath the symbol, boldly stamped, the mug proclaimed "NeoMechi.”

  “Interesting logo,” Josh said. “Why do you think a robotics company would use this to represent their brand?”

  She
took the mug from him and brushed a finger across the image. “The symbol refers to the creator.” She paused in a moment of reflection and added, “In India this is an ancient symbol for perfection.”

  Josh nodded. “Perfection is infinite knowledge, infinite beauty, infinite abilities.”

  She placed the mug on the counter, then glanced back at him. “The figure also represents the unity of male and female. Did you know that?”

  “I don’t want to seem like a know it all, but I did hear that somewhere.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Swear to God. I know too many pieces of pointless information.”

  “I wouldn’t call that pointless,” she said.

  He touched the mug. “What’s this point right here called?” His finger met the single point connecting the two loops.

  “No idea.”

  “That’s the kiss,” Josh said.

  “I didn’t know it had a name.”

  I pressed closer to the cracked door for a better view. I couldn’t help myself.

  “You’re a pretty smart guy,” she said.

  “Not really, but thank you.”

  “Take it as a compliment. Smart is sexy.”

  “In your case, I agree.”

  “Thank you.” Indira’s face appeared a bit flushed. “Are you involved with anyone, where you come from? I assume not, since you asked out Rachel.”

  “Completely unattached.”

  She has no idea, I thought, recalling my dad holding Josh’s appendage.

  “And, uh, will you be staying around here or are you moving on?”

  “Good question; wish I knew. My fate is up to the powers that be at NeoMechi.”

  She looked at her glass and said, “Well, here’s to staying rooted in one place for a while and enjoying what it has to offer.”

  “Here, here.” Josh raised his wine glass and they clinked.

  “Still not going to take a sip?”

  “No. Strict detox.”

  “That can’t be healthy.”

  “It’s perfectly fine if you are careful. You’d be surprised.”

  She moved closer. “Food, water, is there anything else you’re abstaining from?”

  By this point I was almost leaning into the room. I had to see what the robot was going to do.

  They were only a couple feet apart, looking at each other, and the conversation had lapsed. The moment didn’t feel awkward. Josh smiled and she smiled back. Then he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and she leaned forward... they came together and he put his arms around her and they kissed...

  Josh knew exactly what he was doing, how these actions would hurt me, and yet he went through with them. I backed away from the cubby and gritted my teeth and swore a stream of silent profanities.

  I was going to destroy him. That’s all there was to it. I couldn’t even think straight. I had to get Indira out of the house – quickly, without being rude or weird or letting on that I knew about their encounter. Then I would tear that thing apart piece by piece. But how? He was stronger and faster.

  I considered pouring a bucket of water on his head. How waterproof was he? Would a bucketful be enough to flood his electronics? No. The engineers would have ensured his body could get wet without causing a short circuit. Maybe smash his head with that sledgehammer in my garage. I’d only have one shot. He’d be on me in seconds.

  I was pacing. I was out of my mind. I wasn’t thinking good. Thinking bad. I needed to go somewhere and calm down.

  No. That thing was killing my relationship, putting my son in danger, threatening my job, ruining my life – and would probably be the downfall of society, too, as icing on the cake. I wanted to destroy Barry’s miracle machine. Job be damned. It was now or never.

  I returned through the living room, breathing fast. Opened and shut the front door. Paused to get my game face on. Then went into the kitchen.

  They were still standing by the sink, talking.

  “Hey, you’re not looking so good,” Indira said. “Did you get the Alertol?”

  “Yes, but I’ve developed a massive migraine.”

  Josh said, “Really?” I detected a hint of a smirk.

  “Yes, really. I’ve been getting a lot of them lately.”

  He feigned concern. “You haven’t seen anyone about this problem?”

  “No, I power through them.”

  “Then I should go,” Indira said.

  Josh looked at me and agreed. “I guess. I’ll get you a car.” He made the motions of calling one up on his phone.

  I apologized to Indira and suggested that we get together later in the week. She said sure.

  Would she admit that she was interested in Josh? I was going to destroy the bastard tonight, and then I’d have to lie to her that he’d left town early, had gone somewhere on business.

  And unless I could convince NeoMechi his demise was an accident, I would lose my job. Might be unemployed for years, go to jail or owe millions. I wondered if my nondisclosure held me liable for deliberately destroying it. This thing with a brain that walked around and mocked humans.

  I was awash in confusion. Surely I couldn’t tell her the truth. Of course, once the company launched the Perfectus 2050, she’d realize she had fallen for a machine. How does a person come to grips with that?

  She hoisted her purse over her shoulder and Josh walked her to the door. I followed. We all said goodbyes. She told me to take the Alertol.

  Then, just like that, Josh and I were alone.

  My mind was flooded with too much to process and my hands shook. As I straightened up the living room, neither of us said anything.

  “Want some help cleaning up?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer. I collected the glasses and brought them to the kitchen. He looked around to see what he could do, but the room was already clean.

  My anger had begun to subside. I didn’t want to battle him anymore. I wanted to go to sleep. Depression was sinking in.

  “That’s it for tonight, Josh.” I said. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” I turned into my room and shut the door.

  I sat on my bed, still neatly made from the morning. I didn’t take my clothes off. I lay down on my back and stared at the ceiling. At times my mind raced. At others, it seemed dead. After a long time I picked up my phone. I turned it over and saw the inscription on the back. Ooloo.

  Ooloo, the brilliant deep learning engine that left search engines in the dust in 2025, the software intelligence that made wild leaps of intuition and combined blazing-fast calculation with a near-infinite repository of all knowledge. Ooloo, the heir to the intellectual peak formerly held by the human brain, but too cool and dead to even care...

  Ooloo scared the bejeesus out of the philosophers and academics, the apocalyptic futurists and the melodramatic media heads, and rightfully so. But ooloo’s growing powers didn’t really faze the average person. They accepted the superintelligent software, appreciated what it could do for them, and preferred not to consider the implications. Yes, people weren’t so smart next to a computer. But so what? And so the frog slowly boiled.

  But now. The computer had legs, eyes, skin. It had manners and jests. It poked fun, it... hell it had a penis. The thing could juggle a soccer ball to near perfection, imitate anyone it wanted, drive with its eyes closed – and the machine knew where it was all the time, knew everything around it, knew the changing location of countless physical objects in a detonation path of data for 100 miles in any direction.

  It ran and smiled and suggested places to eat and cooked and scrubbed and helped old ladies across the street. It never got tired. As long as the batteries were charged, as long as it could keep the atoms moving, this thing wasn’t going to stop. This thing was going to outwit, outlast, out-think and out-everything you on every level, every time. It might, if it chose to do so, let you think you had beat it, like a parent letting a child win a game, a child who has no clue about the levels of play and skill and deceit swirling above.

  There
was no way I could sell this absolute victor to the world. I wasn’t going to convince anyone of the value of this thing, not for one second. I didn’t believe this product was what people wanted or needed. I had tried to come up with a pitch, but words had failed me. I would be hurled at age fifty-two from the upper echelons of NeoMechi and tumble to unemployment, poverty, and disgrace.

  Wait: I had an idea. Could this perfectly constructed mind come up with a way to convince everyone of its worth? Create my marketing pitch for me? Of course it could! And I latched on to that, still thinking of my job and realizing with a flood of relief that yes, though ironic, this strategy was a brilliant way out of the dilemma.

  But my moment of elation was just a fleeting grasp at flimsy straws. Why did I care about my job? Was that my real problem? Was I actually tempted to aim this missile at the world and tap the button? If I did that, all was lost. Kaboom, no life raft for anyone.

  The hell with that. I had to beat this thing. Somewhere, there was a chink in the armor. I had to find it for my own sanity and to preserve the rightful dominance of humankind’s old-fashioned dumb intelligence.

  I got up. I stared at the wall, at my phone. I used the bathroom. I went back to bed. My mind raced. I got a drink of water. I went to the bathroom again. The sun came up. I hadn’t slept all night.

  I sullenly poured myself some frosted soy chips. I was eating the cereal when... Ding!

  Zach was calling in to say good morning. He was a good kid. I needed a calming conversation with him.

  I moved to my bedroom so I could view him on the big screen hanging on the wall. I tapped his name on the menu and he popped up. With three high resolution cameras pointed at him there in the lodge, his image was so lifelike that he appeared to be standing right in front of me.

  He said he was doing fine, a little bored, and asked when he could come home. I told him to hang tight a couple more days.

  I heard a chime from his end. Zach glanced to the side. “A drone just arrived. It has a package.”