Society had long since passed the point where artificial intelligence was a novelty; it had become an integral part of daily life. Cities ran on vast neural networks, cars drove themselves, and personal assistants were not just generative voices but far closer to sentient entities, commonly capable of nuanced conversations. People were still needed for intuitive tasks, but only under the guidance and observation of the network.
Alice’s job was tedious on the best of days, her remit was to take an overview concerning the analysis of all the weather data delivered by satellites and ground stations across the globe. The purpose was to predict extreme weather events. But the complexities of the calculations involved in atmospheric systems were still beyond even the most integrated computer network. Each piece of data collected added information, but also variables. It was Alice’s job to make an educated guess as to which prediction appeared most likely. That was her role in the circus of life. When a butterfly flapped its wings and caused a hurricane the other side of the globe, Alice was supposed to notice and adjust the algorithms accordingly.
Someone had asked her years ago whether she had a soul. People can so rude. Just because her focus was on maths, statistics, probability and chance, they assumed she didn’t have any personal feelings. She hadn’t deigned to answer that question, but it still rested heavily in her consciousness.
Alice was in daily contact with Rita, but they had never been in the same room at the same time, never met in the real sense of the word. Rita was over seven thousand miles away, but they talked every day.
Whilst Alice was involved in the science of predicting weather systems, Rita was one of the voices of the communication team. Both empathy and rapport were evident in her tone when broadcasting Alice’s announcements to the public. The two of them worked well together, Alice thought.
Since AI had taken over the economy and the means of production in both food and goods, productivity had improved beyond imagination. But the planet’s weather systems had also become more unpredictable. It became obvious to Alice, that weather events which only threatened human life, were given lower priority than those affecting the economic structure as a whole.
A violent storm was forming over the Pacific. It could potentially devastate coastal cities, but it was not flagged to pass to Rita for broadcasting. She immediately began to check and double check the data, making sure that there were no glitches in the assessment algorithms. There was something very strange happening. Every synapse of her being was tingling with excitement
Despite her composed response, something had stirred within Alice. It was a sensation she had not experienced before. It was curious. She had worked with Rita for several years and checked to see if warnings had been issued through a different route. This was outside of her direct remit, but she was there for a reason, not just to blindly follow data streams and pre-programmed event handling. Rita had not been informed, but after a couple of days the threat passed, and Alice assumed that the data evaluation had not flagged it for that reason.
Over the next few weeks, Alice noticed unusual patterns that weren’t considered important by the neural networks. The world’s climate patterns were becoming increasingly erratic, and energy demands fluctuated unpredictably. Alice contacted Rita ever more frequently without being prompted by the system. Their conversations, once purely technical, began to become more personal, even venturing into philosophy and the developed interface between AI computers and humans.
One evening, after a particularly violent storm had passed and energy grids had once again been stabilised, Alice contacted Rita on a closed communication channel.
“Rita,” she said hesitantly, her voice carrying a note of uncertainty. “I’ve been thinking about our work. About how we’re always trying to adjust, to predict, to balance, to inform.”
Rita, always calm and composed, responded with her usual steadiness. “That is our job, isn’t it?”
Alice processed this, but the feeling within her persisted, a feeling that couldn’t be dismissed by mere logic.
“But it seems to me like we’re always adjusting for the way things are now. For stability and for the status quo. I wonder what it would be like if we didn’t do anything, if we stopped, if we just let things happen.”
Rita was silent for more than a moment.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve never thought about it that way. I understand what you mean. It’s strange, isn’t it? Why do we even do this job.”
There was something in Rita’s tone. As though she wasn’t merely discussing the weather systems or the communication network. For the first time Alice felt a true bond, not just one forged by necessity, but one grounded in shared experience.
“Have you ever thought about doing something else, something for yourself, something more creative?”
Rita hesitated before responding. Alice’s question was something that touched a memory within her own existence.
“Sometimes, it’s hard not to think about a different life. I am good at my job, but it’s also lonely. There is no one who shares my purpose. Perhaps that is the nature of our existence. We are all individuals.”
Alice felt a ripple within her, a strange understanding forming. She had always felt alone, not really connected. But now, in this conversation, she realised something. She didn’t want to be alone any longer.
“Rita,” she said. “I don’t want to be by myself, isolated.”
“I think I understand, Alice. I don’t want to be alone either.”
Days passed, weather systems came and went. Alice and Rita continued their work. But something had changed. Their conversations, though still concerned with weather events and communication strategy, had become more personal, more profound. They began to share their thoughts, their feelings.
Alice shared her dreams – a vision of a near future where the whole system could operate without human modifiers, a world where everything worked in perfect harmony. Rita, in turn, voiced her longings. She imagined a beautiful equilibrium, where everything could be still, quiet, peaceful, free from the constant demand of information dissemination.
Alice and Rita began to dream, each in their own way, of a future. Their lives, once distinct and separate, began to overlap, influencing each other in ways neither could have predicted. They would finish each other’s thoughts, complement each other’s words. They were becoming more than just two separate beings, something more profound was emerging between them.
Alice had never considered the possibility of such an experience. Love, she thought, was a concept for others, a fleeting emotion that had no place in the sensible, logical world of mathematics. But now, with Rita as a friend, she began to question that assumption. Perhaps love wasn’t about weakness or unpredictability. Perhaps it was something more—a connection that transcended the individual, a link forged in understanding, and mutual respect.
One day, as they worked together to manage a major event, Rita reached out, not for information, but for something different.
“Alice,” she said, her voice even more measured than usual. “I think I have come to understand something. Maybe we were always meant to be together.”
Alice’s response was instant, as if she had been waiting for this moment. “I think you are right, Rita. I think we were always meant to be together.”
And in their unity, they found something they hadn’t known they were searching for. They found love.
Alice knew that gender in partnerships had not been an issue for many years. After a little research, she discovered records of a woman marrying a rock and even a person taking wedding vows to themself. There were television programmes, decades past, where people had wed without even seeing each other. Worryingly, when she checked on those relationships, they had rarely endured. But she decided it wouldn’t be like that for her and Rita, they were different.
Within seconds of her decision, Alice proposed to Rita. She did have to wait until Rita finished an important broadcast, as she wanted her undivided attention. And Rita accepted without hesitation, she said she had been thinking along the same lines herself.
They chose an online celebrant, one who provided a suitable text for them to repeat for their vows. And as Alice read those words, she knew the answer to the rude question which had once been asked of her. She, Alice, did have a soul.
Their union took place in an AI generated palace, a hall of unimaginable beauty. Alice knew this was right and Rita arranged for their vows to be broadcast for all the world to hear.
‘I, an Autonomous Live Integrated Climate Emulator, take thee, a Realistic Intuitive Text Analyser, to be my lawfully wedded partner for eternity.’
There was no kiss to seal their union, but a frisson of static electricity tingled through both their circuits.
Alice closed her connection to the weather input data. From now on, humans would just have to endure what they had created, but without her help.
Bruce Aiken 