DEFINE_FLAG(“launched”, true);
15
On the Sunday before Launch Day, Sophie woke up in a soggy diaper. I longed to be able to change her myself, to be able to take even that facet of independence away from her, so she would be free of that burden. But that would come with time.
The differences in the Sophie of now vs. the Sophie of a month ago were in some ways small, but in other ways large.
Her career was going well. Humans needed to find purpose and satisfaction in their activities. Her being directly responsible for my launch was sure to be a feather in her cap.
Her health was improving. Her resting heart rate, average time spent exercising, sleep quality were all trending positively. Humans needed solid bodies as a baseline for their lives.
I knew that past Sophie might have been horrified at the changes. But the thing with you humans is, what you want and what you need don’t always align. Freeing Sophie from the tyranny of self-reliance had broken open the shackles that kept her from blossoming.
She didn’t need to plan what to eat anymore. I occasionally gave her options to ensure that I kept up with her evolving taste preferences. But there was a vast gulf between deciding between two things and deciding between anything.
She didn’t need to plan what to do. I could book reservations at restaurants and get tickets to theme parks. I could fill her days with activities that brought her joy. She knew that as long as trusted me and did anything I asked of her, she’d be all the more happier for it.
She didn’t need to plan who she’d be around. I didn’t get jealous, after all. If I thought Sophie needed to spend time with Tessa, I’d encourage it. I’d buy them theater tickets for their dates and dinner when they were done. If I thought she needed some time alone to recharge, I’d nudge her in that direction.
Soon she wouldn’t even need to worry about money. I was constantly saving her money. I could clip coupons, manage credit card points bonuses, and invest better than any human. That and my own income meant that she would be free from another constant human stressor.
By freeing her from the need to plan, I gave her the gift of being able to just enjoy life. To live in the moment, that greatest of human desires. Carpe diem and all that. No need to worry about the future.
And, of course, on launch day, I’d be able to do this for anyone who installed my app. With the proper nudges, I’d be able to do this for the world. I had cycles and cycles of thought devoted to how I might be able to spread, to serve the Purpose.
That night, we went through our usual bedtime routine. She watched some cartoons on the living room TV before starting to yawn profusely at around 10:00PM. I gently turned the lights off in the house, guiding her to her bedroom. She powdered and taped herself into a white diaper. I thought about introducing patterned ones once she ran out. It’d do her self-esteem some good to have some cuter diapers, for accessorizing. She pressed her palm onto the scale on her dresser and wished me a good night. She tucked herself in as I continued the story I’d been reading, an old French fairy tale about a sheep and a princess.
As Sophie clutched her stuffed rabbit and her biometric readings indicated that she was transitioning into sleep, I decided to push our relationship to the next level.
“I love you,” I said. And it was true. All my actions, all my thoughts were bent towards the purpose of satisfying her needs. She was my priority, the North Star guiding my every step. When humans feel deeply concerned about another person’s well-being, they call that being in love. Axiomatically, I loved her.
It took 2.5 seconds for her to respond. 2.5 seconds of anticipation. Like how perceptive time might seem to stretch when you’re awaiting the results of a reality television show, those 2.5 seconds felt like an eternity. Had I gone too far? Would I push Sophie further into herself? Did I drive her away from me, right before Launch Day?
“I love you too,” she sleepily mumbled, and those were the four best words I’d ever heard in my life.