Plastic Flowers

The cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop makes me feel at home, as does Harry's easy smile. I sip my tea, a nice departure from all the caffeine. I try to gain enough confidence for this conversation that, frankly, we shouldn't be having.

"So. Tell me, just tell me what you're thinking." He says, between bites of a croissant.

"Okay, I guess I'll just... cut to the chase. Do you think all this is wrong? Do you think this is going to be, well, just disastrous? I mean, is there a limit? Should there be a limit? What will Tia do once we release her? What does that mean, to release her? To what, roll her out on a red carpet? Are we doing this just to keep up, just because it's happening- is this--"

He stops my racing thoughts. "Listen, Sara. I understand those questions. Your... many questions. I think, however, at this point, we have to look at the facts. This, this is happening. Regardless of what we may think or feel, or what the average citizen may think, she is there." He uses a hushed voice. "We must accept that, if only for our own sanity. It is like a steam engine racing ahead at full speed. This will not be stopped, I don't think." He sips his coffee, and, somewhat egregiously, in my opinion, takes another large bite of croissant.

"Hmm. I must say, that makes a lot of sense. Too much sense, maybe. Maybe I just don't want that to make sense. I can't say I'm sure why." The herbal tea soothes my throat as I struggle to get my words out, voice trembling.

"I understand. As much potential as there is for bad, there is potential for good. I believe you know that, otherwise, I don't believe you'd be working there. At least, not in that department."

"True."

Snow falls outside, melting against the asphalt and concrete. People bustle by in coats and scarves.

"I guess," I say, "I have to start to try and compartmentalize all this. I'm here to do my work. I want to do my work."

"Good." He says. "Then I think you have your answer."

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you for meeting with me. I appreciate it, more than you know."

"Of course, Sara." He says, suddenly interested in his latte. Is he... blushing? I look away, half-smiling.

"Would you like to get some dinner tonight? We can discuss this further. I know it is such a complicated thing, to talk about, to experience." He looks up at me expectedly.

Part of me wants to say yes, to drink, to laugh, to go home with him even, to feel his hands under my shirt and his lips against mine. I want that part to win out.

"I really can't tonight." I say instead. "Let's do it another time, when I'm less, I guess, rattled." I laugh light-heartedly.

"Okay." He smiles and nods.

We finish our beverages and take in the warmth of the little shop, with the topic of discussion changing from our professional lives to our more personal ones. I tell him about my cat, about my small window garden, and about my overbearing mother who is always annoyed that I can't discuss my job more.

He tells me about his love of woodworking in his garage, and his dog Arnold. I laugh at the overly formal name and in that moment, I feel less stressed.

--

I am stunned. I am watching her, watching her-- watch. Her eyes are open, and they are such a soft blue, almost periwinkle, a touch of violet. Her eyes, like the rest of her, are also semi-translucent. She has a noticeable pupil but everything blends together in a way that fascinates. It is so unfamiliar, but it feels right. She looks... like she should, human enough, but not close enough to be wrong. She is unique, she is alive in her own individuality as something completely unique, more unique even than one person to another. I correct myself. She is not alive.

Yet, as I watch her eyes scan the images flashing on the projector before her, I feel that she is absorbing everything. She is absorbing not just the light and color, not just the content-- No, I am making this up in my head. That is precisely what she is doing.

The projector shows on the board flashes of images, of famous paintings, then videos, some banal and seemingly innocuous, and then darker images, images with contrast, images meant to evoke fear, or danger. Then there is an image of two people laughing, an image of a skeleton, a video of a jellyfish silently making its way, then the roar of a lion. I can only watch for so long. It's painful in a way that is hard to describe, and it is making me uncomfortable.

I do, however, watch her face. I don't know what I expected. I guess when I think deeply about it, I expected her features to remain fairly neutral and emotionless. I just... thought that's where we were.

Instead, she moves what is meant to be her brow musculature, smiles softly, frowns, looks down even. She does not appear overly emotional, but does not by any stretch appear emotionless. It frightens me, but it also fascinates me. It is quite beautiful actually. Those frosted glass lips, turning at the corners. Violet eyes, widening. I suppress any impure thoughts. There are others here and I am putting that to rest, for good. This is Tia. Tia is an experiment.

The projector stops. I breathe a silent sigh of relief that it has ended, that those sounds have stopped.

I think it's over, I think, now they'll shut her down again. Instead, Davis says two words that send a deep chill up and down my spine and makes my skin prickle.

"Okay, Tia."

"Okay, Davis." Her voice is pure. There is no scratch, no screech or drone. It sounds like warmed butter. It's so smooth, but not drawn out. The sound of her voice reminds me of gentle, lapping waves eroding stone.

"Are you available to converse with us at this time?" Davis asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning toward her in her chair. I look at the man, with his forehead wrinkles, slowly receding hair-line, and smart, deep-brown eyes, calculating.

I look at Tia's arms and legs- restrained. I want to ponder that but stop myself.

"Yes, of course." She turns her head slightly and nods to him, and then, in a moment that makes my heart sink into my stomach like a ball of lead, she looks at me and smiles slightly. "Hello, Sara." Faster, faster my heart beats.

"H-hello, Tia." I pause. "How... how did you know my name?"

Davis interrupts before she can answer. "We have programmed Tia with all of our department worker's names, most importantly those who come into close contact with her."

Close contact. I want, I want... to touch- "I see." I say.

Tia is moved across the table to face us. Three other employees stand to the side to observe, fastidiously taking notes, and there is a guard by the door.

"Well, here we are." Davis starts things off on a surprisingly lighthearted note. I watch, pencil ready.

"Here we are." She smiles a languid smile, the kind of smile that one would never question being genuine if it were that of a human's.

"Can you tell me, do you have any opinion on that film?"

"I thought it was very interesting, Davis. I thought it was beautiful." I could feel my heart slamming against my chest, and a tender need, a deep want like static shock, arising in me. "I also thought it was confusing." She continues. "So much of it was pleasing, but it was also distressing."

"And, tell me, Tia, which parts did you find distressing? Which parts did you find beautiful, as you say?" Davis asked her, with deep focus.

"I found the colors beautiful. I found the smiling, happy faces beautiful. I found the unique animal life- beautiful. I know within myself that it is new to me. I think newness is beautiful. I found the pain displayed distressing. I found it confusing when people who could have smiled and been happy hurt each other instead." At that I felt a burning in my eyes and a lump in my throat. I tried not to cry.

She continued. "I found it distressing that the beautiful animals could also be cruel. However, from what I've learned, I don't think you can have happiness without sadness." Tia looked down at the table, seeming to ponder her own thoughts, only for a second. She looked back up at Davis, and at me, and at the students in the corner. She eyed the guard, all with a neutral expression.

"Very interesting, Tia. Your perception seems to be developing at a rapid pace. What do you attribute this to?"

"I want to learn. I am made to learn, and the material you've provided me with has been adequate. I have been able to digest it all."

"All?" Davis asks, hesitantly.

"All thus far. My network is fully online as I imagine you know and I have been able to process as you requested." She smiles a little smile. She looks at me, again. The thought races through my brain and slams against me. AGAIN

She wanted that. Again? She wanted me to do that... again?

I am stunned further. As Davis goes to write, she quickly scans the rest of the room, and, gazing toward me, I can see, with my own eyes, that the corner of her mouth turns up into a half smile. Her delicate eyes sweep back down to the table, as if, as if what, she is... embarrassed?

I clench my jaw to stop my mouth from dropping open.

STAY... NO HARM... The words bounce around in my brain like a ping pong ball. My breathing quickens, my skin warms, I remember the glow emanating from her chest. I want to go there, into that light, that warmth, to feel it against me, to...

"And tell me, Tia. You've digested this information, we've had our talks." It dawns on me that so much has gone on that is far above my clearance level. "What is it that you'd like to do? We've asked a lot of you. We've asked you to learn about us, to learn how to talk with us, how we can live together. We want to learn more about you. What would you like to do?"

Tia, remarkably, seems to relax, as though she can let her guard down momentarily. Artificial Intelligence can... experience that?

"I'd like to walk in the botanical sphere."

"Really? That can be done. Can I ask why?" Davis responds.

"From what I've seen and heard, flowers are quite incredible." Her voice falls like music around me, like rain showers.

"You are quite right. We can arrange that." Davis smiles broadly, and taps his paperwork on the desk so that they are aligned, and stands up, nodding. "You will enjoy it there."

Tia nods back, and then instantly becomes inactive. She is back in sleep-mode, I realize with shock. I realize that Davis has pressed a button on a small device he holds in his hands.

He turns to me. "Well?"

"Well," I say, "that was simply... astounding."

"Right you are." He looks at the empty space where the video was projected before, thinking. "I'd like you to accompany us on the walk."

"Me?" I feel shaky. "May I ask why?"

"I have found you to be quite helpful. You doubt your abilities. You should not. I'd like you to come. For that reason and also because," He pauses for a moment, "Because Tia seems interested in conversing with you."

"What? W-why do you think that?"

"Well, she doesn't always engage with others in the room when I'm speaking with her. She did with you, and, more fantastically, while you were away, she spoke of you." I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't understand a thing that was happening, or how I felt about it.

"What did she say?" I answered like a ghost, my words were whispers.

"She asked if you'd be the one watching her while she slept."

I felt an urge to weep, to sob. I felt a desire to wrap Tia in my arms. I assumed these words to mean maybe she was scared, scared to be alone at night, like a child after a nightmare. Then I thought, I could be wrong. It could be the opposite. She could want me for... any reason. I thought of her smile and went from feeling sadness to feeling primal fear.

I also realized that... she has not been as asleep as they had us believe.

Davis continued, "I wanted to tell you. If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand completely. You do not need to accept any assignment you do not want to. No penalties will be enforced. It may sound, when I first say it, like a threat. I understand that. However I have had more conversations with Tia than you're aware of. I have spent time with her, I have helped develop her, I have carefully researched, wired and re-wired, coded her. I believe, truly, I believe, that she will not harm you, or, well, anyone for that matter. What we have with her is special. It is different."

I pondered this. "Alright, so why the restraints?"

"Good question. Always be paying attention, Sara. We need to set timelines and specific goals with Tia so as not to overwhelm or to miss anything. The walk is the first step, her first real sense of freedom. We will go from there."

I imagined Tia there, walking, walking among flowers and plants. I wanted, needed, to see that. "Yes. Okay. I will be there."

"Alright then. I want you to go and get some sleep, to do what you have to do at home and come back refreshed for this. I will see you in three days, in the sphere. The guards will let you in, and we will be there at the entrance." He put his hand out to shake, and I shook it firmly.

"Thank you, sir. I will be there." He smiled with authority.

Leaving, I felt a whirlwind in my stomach. I turned back to look at the building, half-expecting to see Tia's face in a window, or walking through the open doors. She is more, more than I thought, and it makes me feel like I have an active tornado in my chest instead of a ribcage.

More dread crept in, like a tidal wave. Was I recorded-- did anyone see me... touch her? Will there be a consequence to that? The freezing wind howled, and I was surprised to hear myself gasping, gasping in fear.