Compatible

by Kaki Olsen

There were many reasons his family refused to come to the wedding. The distance was a major factor, the visas another factor. People who could afford a round-trip ticket made thousands of dollars per hour if they didn’t sell their story for a sponsorship. There was no guarantee that their return trip wouldn’t be delayed or canceled.  They heard stories of families stranded in ports for years, many of whom gave in  and used the refund to buy a settlement plot.

They gave many reasons for declining with their regrets, but his sister attached a news story that featured his decision as a tabloid headline:  MY HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER NEEDS A SOFTWARE UPDATE.

He hated that she routed it through his personal console. Josh didn’t like keeping secrets from his beloved, but if Jeanine had sent it to his office, LinCom21 wouldn’t have gotten her feelings hurt by the impersonal joke of it all. As it was, Lin went into automated mode for a week, only performing routine updates and alerting him to incoming messages.  He respected her space, but nearly punched his neighbor for asking if his fiancée was making him sleep on the couch.  At work, where it was less odd to be emotionally attached to mechanical counterparts, people were more understanding and took to making in-person visits so he wouldn’t have to rely on another computer.

On the eighth day, Lin self-activated at midnight.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, J.

I MISSED YOU, he responded.

I’M SORRY FOR YOUR DISTRESS. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SCHEDULE AN APPOINTMENT WITH DR. STRAUSS?

“I’m okay,” he said aloud.  “And you don’t have to be so formal.”

It occurred to him belatedly that he was being insensitive to her programming, but Lin dutifully switched her display font to a loopy handwriting and sent him a kiss emoji.

“If you’re trying to cheer me up, mission accomplished.”

A sly wink followed.

“I’m sorry they said those things,” he said.

She took so long to respond that he thought she had decided on another silent treatment, but he should have recognized the pause as choosing her words carefully.

THEY WERE FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

“And what have you been chewing on for a week?” Josh prompted.

YOU HAVE WORK IN FIVE HOURS. WE CAN TALK LATER.

“Or we can talk about it now.”

I’D LIKE IT IF WE COULD WAIT.

To change the subject, she adjusted the heating system for his bunk and the firmness of the mattress.  It was Lin’s equivalent of a hug and feeling slightly reassured, he dozed off not much later.

——-

“Later” turned out to be almost the next day. His boss greeted him with a cheerful “happy birthday” and a cache of emergency applications.  There had been damage to one of the way stations overnight and while things were fixed now, it triggered anxiety over people being far beyond the reach of a breathable atmosphere when it happened again.

DID YOU ENJOY YOUR WORK TODAY?  Lin asked when he headed from the front door to his pajama drawer.

“I gave one hundred thirty-seven people a place to call home,” he said. “I definitely enjoyed my work today. How about you?”

In the early days of their relationship, she had responded to this by listing his messages and giving him a summary of junk messages.  Tonight, she displayed an image of a new art gallery’s digital collection and played him music that had been featured on his favorite channel.  When they’d discussed the latest news dispatches on local and planetary sites, he lowered his voice to a murmur and asked a potentially difficult question.

“Any more nastygrams?”

NO. JEANINE SENT ME AN APOLOGY.

That was progress. Most of his family didn’t even count Lin as intelligent, much less capable of more than rote responses. His sister talking to a computer was something new.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want me to read,” he assured her.

SHE SAID SHE CAN’T COME, BUT IT PLEASES HER THAT YOU MAKE ME HAPPY.

“Are you happy?”

MY SELF-DIAGNOSTIC INDICATES THAT ALL IS RIGHT

IN OUR LITTLE WORLD.

It was an odd combination of tech check and fondness that he appreciated about her efforts to have more of a personality.

“I’m happy in our little world, too,” he said.  “Why the week of shutdown?”

Another long pause for consideration.

SELF-CARE WAS ONE PRIORITY.  I SUBMITTED TO A DEBUGGING AND AM IN EXCELLENT HEALTH. I SPENT SOME TIME IN CONTINUING EDUCATION AND CAN SHARE MORE OF YOUR INTERESTS.

“That’s great, but why…”

JEANINE WORRIED ME.  WE BOTH THINK WE COULD BE HAPPY TOGETHER. I THINK WE ARE HAPPY TOGETHER.

“I think you’re right. So, what worried you?”

THE EVER AFTER. I AM HAPPY TO CONTINUE IN THIS PARTNERSHIP AND SOLEMNIZE OUR UNION ON THE DAY APPOINTED.

“But you think we have an expiration date?”

YOUR MORTALITY ENSURES THAT WE DO.

He thought for a moment she’d make a joke about his advanced age—he was thirty-two and her software hadn’t existed until six years ago—but rather than let Lin make him feel short-lived, he blew her an actual kiss right into the optical sensors.

“I could expire at any time and I’m sorry for my mortality,” he said. “I still think we could be happy together.”

ME, TOO.

Lin’s display went blank, an invitation to change the subject if he chose.  After a minute, Josh considered another way of commiserating.

“I’d like to share your new interests,” he said.  “Tell me about this continuing education.”