Interesting, from a science perspective.
Cons
All the sci-fi films involving robots usually end badly for the humans.
Morally questionable? Think AI might be bad for the environment.
Can run out of power at inconvenient times.
Dogs don’t like him. (Is this just Richard, or all dogs?)
How would I tell my friends and family?
How would I afford it when the trial ends?
How would I have children if I ever wanted children?
Then she scrubbed out the last one. How had she gone from being robot-curious to planning her whole robot family?
“Hey, Chloe. Shall we go to breakfast?” Rob called through the door. She quickly closed her phone.
“Just coming.”
She didn’t need to decide anything now. She just needed to get through this weekend, put the past to bed.Thenshe could think about what her future looked like.
As they walked into Deep Hall, Rob took her hand. A buffet breakfast had been laid out on the side with teapots, cafetières, a mountain of croissants, and the low hum of people already chatting about plans for the day.
“I’ll grab us a seat,” he said, as she headed straight to the buffet.
Elaine was walking around with a clipboard, collecting names for the punting expedition. Chloe wasn’t planning on going—she wanted to take Rob to the museum, wander through the city, show him the botanical gardens—but as she was reaching for a cafetière, Sean appeared beside her. He was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt with “Director’s Cut” on the front. She couldn’t decide if it was hilariously self-aware or cringingly self-important. Maybe both. His face looked freshly shaved, but there was a weight around his eyes—a bleary heaviness that confirmed the hangover he was trying to hide.
“Did you go running this morning?” he asked casually.
“Yes. Why?” she said, turning back to the buffet.
“I thought I saw you but then figured it had to be someone else. The Chloe Fairway I knew would never willingly exercise before breakfast.”
She gave him a half-hearted smile, still slightly bruised from last night’s conversation. He cleared his throat.
“You need to introduce me to your chap. Rob, is it?” His eyebrows lifted just a fraction, like he was trying to look indifferent, forgetting she was familiar with his every microexpression. “He’s quite the dancer.”
“He is,” she said, holding up the cafetière, offering him a coffee. He picked up a mug, and she poured.
“Look, I’m sorry about last night,” he said, rocking back slightly on his heels. “I don’t think I explained myself well.” His voice dropped, eyes flicking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “I don’t want you to think I was being flippant about your email, that I didn’t care.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she said with a tight shrug.
“Because the truth is, I think I didn’t reply because I caredtoomuch,” he said.
Her face darted back to him in surprise. His words sent a pulse of relief through her—here was the Sean she knew. He tugged at his T-shirt. “Whenever I finish a script, I think of you. ‘Would Chloe think this was finished?’ ”
“I never think anything’s finished,” she said, offering him a small smile.
“Exactly.” He reached for a bowl, which he started loading with granola. “You’re the voice in my head, telling me it could be better. I always try to imagine what you’d think—” He stopped talking because Elaine was upon them with her clipboard.
“Just working out boats for punting. Are you two keen?” she asked, her long, mousy ponytail swinging back and forth like an executioner’s axe.
“I’m up for it if you are?” Sean said, shooting her a hopeful smile.
