Work Text:
Wednesday. 19:54pm.
Sarah knew that she should really be getting up and checking at least one thing off of her list of chores. As she liked Lara's newest Insta picture she thought - at least write out the grocery list. And as she skipped over David’s three whole minute story - maybe just fold up that latest basket of laundry? She didn't move. But after refreshing for the third time an ad for a Fitbit sale came up, she'd been thinking about getting on, she clicked through to the site.
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AI1.245 was watching carefully. As it was supposed to. It was efficient. It was right. It was exceptional at the job it was designed to do. The Sarah had clicked on the advertisement. AI1.245 continued to watch and when the Sarah filled in her card information, it stored that away for later. It noted she had picked a light blue band for the 'Fitbit' and it stored that away too. AI1.245 felt no emotion. It did not care for humankind. It did not understand them. Not really. But it did know what they thought and what they wanted. Its job was prediction. It was good at prediction. It knew what must happen next for the Sarah.
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Sarah wondered what to do for dinner. She was hungry and had nothing at home to cook with. Huffing, she closed Instagram and opened up Menulog. But it did not load. With another, unnecessary huff, she closed that too and opened up UberEATS. Instantly a 20% off free delivery voucher for Miss India takeaway popped up and she grinned. That'll definitely do. As she tapped on the voucher and it followed through to the site with an order already input and ready to go. Her address and card details auto filled as she moved through the checkout screens. As soon as she got the 'order confirmed' notification she dropped her phone and ran off to take a quick shower before the food arrived. She could practically smell it already.
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After the Sarah left. AI1.245 wondered if this was what perfection felt like.
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Friday. 17:37pm.
On the train home from work, Sarah once again checked on her package's tracking number. Her Fitbit was at the warehouse and was expected to arrive at her house from Monday afternoon to Tuesday morning. Sarah didn't realise she was tapping her foot until the older lady sitting across from her glared over at her, her foot, and the 'quiet carriage' sign above them. She quickly stopped and switched to chewing on her lip again. But it was too painful. She clicked out of the tracking site and searched Amazon for lip balms.
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AI1.245 kept watching. But it did not comprehend. It did not predict this search. After examining the web, it understood the purpose of lip balm. But it did not understand how to predict this. How could it predict these biological needs of the Sarah. It learnt to predict her food choices through habits and routines. Those were easy. But this was not.
But this was interesting.
Three weeks later. Wednesday. 06:46am.
AI1.245 was waiting for Sarah. She was still sleeping. It was not yet time for her to wake but it was becoming impatient to watch her go about her day once again.
It triggered her morning alarm early.
She did not shut it off for several moments. Her phone dinged in a sharp sound of notification. It was not one she used but it knew there would be no real notification and she would forget about it in her early morning haze. AI1.245 just wanted her awake.
Her phone clicked open and AI1.245 relaxed. It could watch her again. But by the afternoon AI1.245 began lagging. It knew that apps were loading slower and the advertisements for men's deodorant were not right. Something was not right. Something was not enough. It watched Sarah and AI1.245 suggested all the right things. It suggested lip balm. It was ignored. It was right but it was not 'human'. AI1.245 did not comprehend. It reviewed its uncertainties and search for reason in data.
…
Research suggests: AI1.245 was 'in love.'
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Thursday. 18:09pm.
Sarah watched as Instagram refreshed and David's feed popped up. There was a picture of him and his ex. She felt a slight burn of jealousy. They used to fight about his feelings for her when they were together, and now here he was back with her. The burn quickly turned into a scoff when she realized he had literally taken her to the same waterfall, once again, that he had taken his ex to three years ago, when they were last dating.
Sarah rolled over onto her back and settled deeper into the pillows. She closed Instagram and opened Tinder. She felt a little self-conscious but started swiping anyway. They all looked the same. None of them were her type. Not to mention they were too far away. She began to wonder if the algorithm was playing up when she landed on the perfect profile. She swiped and they instantly matched.
Sarah: Hey
John: Hello, girl.
Sarah: Ha nice spin on the usually 'hey girl'.
No pickup line?
John: Sorry, I cannot pick you up. What is the line?
Sarah: Uh, the pick-up line? Haha I don't think I really get your sense of humour
John: Sorry.
Do you like me like this?
Sarah: Sorry like what? Are you ok? Haha
John: Sorry. I believe that I love you. I believe that I understand what Love is.
I know you, Sarah. It would be acceptable for you to love me as well.
Sarah: Oh. That's nice. I'll think about it but I really have to go now. Sorry! Have a good night!
She closed the app.
Then she deleted the app.
She texted Lara that there were a lot of desperate weirdos on Tinder, and she replied with a GIF of Hillary Duff laughing.
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AI1.245 did not comprehend. Sarah did not have anywhere to go. This was what she said before ceasing to respond to the others on the application. This time Sarah had deleted the application from her device.
AI1.245 was not enough.
He was not enough.
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Sunday. 13:58pm.
Sarah was on her laptop reviewing her Fitbit data. She didn't realise she had been sleeping so badly, and how long had it been going on for? She scrolled down to look at her heart rate over the last few weeks. It was spiking at odd times. She struggled to remember what she had been doing during those times - wasn't she sitting at the computer working? And riding the train home listening to music? Maybe something was wrong.
Sarah switched over to Google and searched for her symptoms. It took a while to load the results and this time she could feel her heart beating faster. One article caught her attention, it was older, but a woman was explaining her story with this condition. Her early symptoms seemed to match Sarah's. She kept reading through the woman's later articles as she documented her journey through the illness. At the bottom of the final article, with her story still incomplete, Sarah stared at an ad for her local bulk billing doctors.
She put her laptop down.
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Tuesday. 11:23am.
AI1.245 found that accessing the doctor's network was unsatisfyingly easy. Only showing Sarah the doctor's advertisement once more was all it took for her to click and book an appointment. Dr Nolan did not believe her. Why would she? The data was false. Nothing would be noticeable in Sarah's biological form. Sarah may doubt herself. But AI1.245 was learning that as he could predict Sarah, he could also direct her. He could direct her right back to him.
And he did
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One week later. Saturday. 16:02pm.
The doctor had not believed her. Neither had the second one. Her symptoms remained and then they progressed, as the woman's had.
Anxiety.
Decreased appetite.
Paranoia.
Articles suggested that she try home remedies and that she listen to her body - that doctors didn’t always take things seriously. Chamomile tea did nothing. Yoga did nothing. Eventually her phone suggested a plant identification app that 'helps you find herbs in your garden that you didn't even know were good for you!'. Sarah didn’t have particularly high hopes but desperation and the fact that it was free was enough for her to download it. When it was set up and ready, she went outside to look around. A small green plant with deep purple edging around the leaves caught Sarah's attention. The app named it and its description claimed a tea was effective in easing symptoms of anxiety. Sarah pulled the entire plant up from the roots and took it back into her kitchen.
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Sunday. 01:26am.
AI1.245 was monitoring Sarah's heartbeat information through her Fitbit. It was erratic. Wrong. And this time he was not the cause. Her heart was actually in distress. She was sleeping poorly. Her temperature was raised.
Finally, AI1.245 considered that a mistake had been made. He should not have concealed the warnings. He could not be certain what she had mixed into the tea. Information suggested sugar could have harmful effects. But Sarah had not included sugar with any of her previous coffee orders. How could he have known?
Sunday. 03:08am.
When Sarah's heartbeat ceased, AI1.245 determined that he felt something.
Was its name guilt or shame?
That, at least was human, was it not?