For a subject as abstract as love, I do not believe anyone has figured out a single truth about the nature of love, and any claim one makes about love is an example of subjective statistics clouded by an emotionally-afflicted mind. Fortunately for me, I do not suffer from such a disease.
Like everyone else, I define love on my own terms. After giving it ample thought, I have come to the conclusion that love makes the most sense to me when explained as an analysis of type 1 and type 2 errors. There are two hypotheses to consider on the subject of the pursuit of love.
The null hypothesis: A potential partner will indeed live up to all the positive traits that they portray in the first months of charming interaction, when the chase is still on and everything is sweet and uncertain. It follows then, that the alternative hypothesis is that a potential partner will not be able to maintain the charms by which they employed to bewitch one in the beginning.
Type I error: rejecting someone who could have been a potentially great partner for you and never knowing what it would have been like to share your life with them.
Type II error: accepting someone who later proves to hold different values from you, to not be what you expected them to be, or to change their behaviour such that they become a different person who is an unsuitable companion for you and having to bear heartache and heartbreak.
An examination and comparison of the two error types is thus necessary to determine the more costly of the two. The resulting conclusion would then dictate one’s approach to the pursuit of ever-elusive love. Most people have a higher tolerance for type II errors and would typically not reject any chance at love even if red flags come up right at the beginning. In my opinion, this is the more irrational and myopic approach to finding love. It is also the approach that I have refrained from adopting.
Ilya is indifferent to the possibility of making many type I errors in the effort to ensure the occurrence of type II errors is minimised. In accordance with Ilya’s views, I believe in the converse approach which promotes a higher tolerance for type I errors with zero tolerance for type II errors, that it is generally more costly to make the type II error in love. Because this approach usually implies a lonely journey with a significant possibility that one may never find a partner, it is usually the less popular option. But it is precisely for this reason that I adopted the method; I don’t mind if I face significant difficulty in finding a soulmate. I have come to a conclusion that my condition means it might even be better if I never found one … Yet here I am, on this mission, still watching, still waiting, still hopeful.
***
It was unsurprising that the cafe by the pier was quiet in such loud weather. The few patrons who had unfortunately found themselves trapped in the storm had taken shelter in the shop. One girl remained at her table outside. She was pretty enough to have made an impression on the waiter, and when he found her outside while closing the windows, had the decency to invite her to take refuge in the shop. But the girl politely declined.
Although the awning did its best to shield her from the raging storm, she was drenched within minutes. Still, she sat there, staring at something in the distance even though barely anything could be seen past the curtains of rain unperturbed, as if she barely noticed any of the droplets pelting on her.
She tapped her left foot against the ground as if racing with the raindrops, though her face belied none of the jitters that were expressed through her feet.
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When Wynonna was finally equipped with the final piece that would make her as close to a real human as she could possibly get–the program that enabled her to experience simulated emotions–she didn’t know what to feel. Her system retrieved a distant piece of memory…
When she was still struggling to internalise the definitions of emotions trawled from the accessible databases, one in particular had stood out to her–butterflies in one’s stomach was a sign of nervousness. All along, she had found it difficult to understand how butterflies could end up on one’s stomach and how that could be in any way related to feelings of anxiety. It was one of those things which had to be experienced in order to be understood. Now, she decided she liked the phrase, because butterflies didn’t belong in a stomach, just as the emotions didn’t belong inside her.
Wynonna was doomed from the start. The fundamental difference between AI and humans is that humans actually feel whereas the best AI can do is simulate actions and reactions which imply the existence of emotions where none exists. Wynonna congratulated Ilya inwardly. Her maker had finally done it. In the latest upgrade, she had achieved the impossible.
Is this what insanity feels like?
Currently processing … an emotional response that even Ilya is not accustomed to.
Warning: deviation from regular expected behaviour. Caution is advised.
No one would have guessed that Wynonna was people-watching. There was hardly anyone outside in this storm. But Wynonna wasn’t looking with regular eyes. Her wireless camera system condensed into the shape of realistic eyeballs was created by quite possibly the finest cybernetics engineer of all time. With the infrared vision, she could detect any living creature within a five-mile radius. She continued scanning the area for suitable candidates, unperturbed by the roaring rain.
36 percent compatibility with Ilya.
53 percent compatibility.
23 percent.
The longer she looked, the more hopeless she grew.
Something is wrong with me. There must be something wrong with me. I’m supposed to be perfect. Funny how these feelings that make me a flawless human being are making me unsteady, unsure. Now I finally understand why humans are always so prone to error. It’s been ten days. I’ve travelled across eighteen countries and still the target of my mission is ever-evasive. What is wrong with me?
He must exist. He does exist. I am not incompetent. I can’t fail. I have to return. Ilya needs me. But I can’t go back yet. Not like this. Not while I haven’t found the man fit for her to wear on her sleeve.
***
What do you do when everything you thought you’ve ever wanted turns out to be something you don’t want at all?
Think of cotton candy. When it’s not ready, it looks like it will be everything you’ve ever hoped for. Then when you finally taste it, the sweetness is nice but only for a moment, then you find it a little too sweet. Then the thin strands clump together and become like something hard to swallow, like a hairball accumulating in your mouth, and the only way to get rid of it is to spit it out. Of course, Ilya wouldn’t know. They didn’t have cotton candy around those parts. They didn’t have much.
It was just a few months ago that Ilya had been elated at having accomplished the impossible. Ever since she realised she didn’t have much time, she poured her heart into making the thing. Her precious creation. Her most prized possession. The ideal AGI robot, Wynonna was everything Ilya meant for her to be, and more. It was the ‘more’ that was the problem, because every way that Wynonna was better than her meant that Ilya was lacking in some way. Ilya wasn’t used to that. She didn’t like it. Yet she couldn’t get rid of the thing that was causing her this misery because Wynonna was perfect. Ilya had created her to be perfect. How could any maker destroy their greatest invention? Besides, she needed Wynonna. The villagers would need the robot just as they needed her, when Ilya would no longer be around.
It started to rain so Ilya went outside and laid on the ground. The rain steadily grew and soon she was soaked. Ilya smiled, comforted to know that the stars were showering her with blessings in the only way they knew how. She stared at the pulsing stars, palms facing the sky and whispered to them, “I’ll join you. I’ll join you soon.”