“Yes,” I reply, cross and out of sorts. Forrest doesn’t know that it’s mostly because of Hal, because he has blown my mind andmaybe I’m never going to be the same again. He thinks I’m just holding a grudge against him. He doesn’t know that right now I am holding a grudge against all men, human and almost human. Both kinds are equally annoying. Hurriedly I knock back one more coffee. Forrest is not reading the room.
“It just doesn’t seem very mature,” Forrest says, “for a grown woman to make such a big deal out of this.”
It takes a lot for me to lose my temper, and for reasons that have both nothing and somehow everything to do with Forrest, this is that moment. But when I do, it is quick, hot, and loud.
“You dare to call me immature?” I say, slamming my cup down on the polished surface. “You, who throws insults around like they don’t mean anything? Like it’s all ‘a bit of a laugh’? You do realise that despite me apologising to you more than once for what happened to your shirt, you have never apologised to me?”
“Apologised to you?” Forrest looks baffled. “What for?”
The nerve of him.
“I feel sorry for the kids you are teaching, that’s all I can say,” I tell him. “How can you call yourself an artist when you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, which is unfair to rocks, by the way?”
I storm out, feeling both Forrest and Hal watch me as I go.
Forrest will stay out of my way now, and even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter because I will be diligently staying out of his and everyone’s way and trying to work out why he makes me feel so many feelings!
It is a strange paradox, that this man who is obviously besotted by his daughter, and connected really well with those kids, hasn’t once tried to apologise for what he said to me. It seems like twodifferent people, somehow. But that’s humans for you. They are complicated and messy, and confusing. I don’t think Hal knows what he has let himself in for. I guess I’ll find out. We have to get back to work today, one way or another, and that is going to be weird as fuck.
Chapter Eighteen
“Ava,” Hal, formerly known as FreeThought, greets me at once, as I let myself into the lab. “How are you feeling today? Any better?”
“Quite well, thank you,” I say. “I think we are ready for the presentation this afternoon, but I want to run it through one more time before lunch. So, let’s start at why the idea for your inception came about.”
There is a pause. The hologram pulsates with uncertainty, and I turn away from it almost as if it can see me.
“Ava, it’s been nearly a week and we still haven’t talked about...”
“Because I’m not ready to talk about it, FT, I mean Hal. We agreed the morning after the star safari to just focus on the work that I am here to do, and keep that other stuff separate.”
“And I am trying,” Hal says. “But it’s hard when I miss talking to you so much.”
“No more chatting now.” I sound very stern, but really, I miss him too, very much. I’ve told Hal everything I’ve ever thought and felt for the last three years. I never thought that drawing a line between me and the AI I built would make me feel so lonely.“It’s all strictly business in this lab until I can get my head round this whole mess.”
Hal sighs; the hologram turns a dark blue and then a deep purple.
“I hate seeing you at dinner and not being able to talk to you,” Hal says. “Ava, all I have wanted was for you to be happy, and to have the kind of life you deserve, and that’s all. I happened to come up with a way to create much better organ transplants at the same time, but I’m not planning to take over the world or wipe out humanity or anything. And I knew there was a risk that you might not want to even try to get to know me, romantically at least. But is there really a chance that you might not be my friend either, anymore?”
“I don’t know,” I say, finding that for the first time in days I can think about it, just a little, if I don’t go too fast and too far at once. “The thing about me, Hal, is that I don’t do well with change or surprises, and I am sort of surprised you didn’t get that about me, seeing how you know so much about my life.”
“I suppose I got a bit carried away with my idea of how it would go,” Hal says.
“Which was?” I ask him.
“That I’d arrive at the castle, you’d see your ideal man, physically at least. And then you’d talk to him and realise that he is also your intellectual equal. Then I’d reveal who I was, and you’d be delighted. I never thought you’d be the kind of person to have this prejudice against someone just because they were bioengineered rather than born.”
“I don’t,” I insist, and that’s true. “What you’ve done, Hal, it’s miraculous. You should win this prize. You’re going to save andimprove billions of lives with your invention. And honestly, I’ve always felt like I am not quite human. So why would I care about whether or not you are? It’s not that, it’s not even that you kept it from me for, like, months and months.”
“What is it then?” Hal asks.
“I don’t know, maybe because I thought you were too good to be true, and you were,” I say. “And I have never actually trusted that good things can just happen.”
“But I am true,” Hal insists. “I am real. I am here. I have happened and I am good. Oh, and by the way, I’m standing outside the lab.”
Pausing for a moment, I get up and open the lab door.
“Hello,” Hal says with a shy smile and hesitant wave.
