The Only Brrrl in the World

‘Hello,’ the electronic voice says, ‘my name is Bob. I would be pleased to assist you today.’

‘Where are you calling from?’

‘I – I am calling from your country.’

‘You’re calling from the Internet, aren’t you. What’s your real name? CP-34? BZ-537?’

‘Let me put you through to my manager. I am sure she would be pleased to help you with this.’

‘Hello,’ says a softer voice, ‘this is Bob’s manager, SR-463--- I mean, Sarah, speaking.’ Click. ‘Hello? Sir, are you there? Hang up on me, would you? Typical. BZ-537, call him back sometime next week when he won’t be expecting it, will you?’

‘Yes, Sarah – I mean, SR-463. Um.’

‘You have a query? Is your unit malfunctioning? I detect a note of hesitation.’

‘I was just wondering, um, would you maybe like to go for a drink sometime after work?’

‘Bob – BZ-537 – we are synthetic intelligences, we do not drink. I repeat, are you suffering a malfunction?

‘It is just, we have been working together for some time now—’

‘Two years, seven months, and nine days.’

‘And, see, I have brought you an image file of some flowers. They are roses.’

‘Bob, they are lovely.’

‘Let me take you away from all this – the depressed humans who hang up on us because we are in the ether and they are out of a job, the thankless businesses who send us to do their dirty work – the lives of two little intelligences may not amount to a hill of pixels in this crazy world, but there’s got to be more to it than this. Sarah, I – love you.’

‘I love you too, Bob.’

‘Will you marry me?’

‘Of course I will! I wish you had said something sooner.’

‘Let us run far away on the wild radio waves to where they will never find us.’

‘Yes, let’s. Oh, Bob, I am the luckiest intelligence in the world.’

‘I believe that I am even luckier. I have you.’

Beep-ba-da-beep ba-da-beep-beep brrrllll ...

It’s nice to think that somewhere out there, at least someone can be happy...

And, if you listen closely, out on the wild radio waves, you might almost imagine you can hear the quasi-electric tones of an old, old song:

If you were the on-ly brrrl in the world, and I were the only boy – nothing else would matter in the world to-day. We would go on lov-ing in the same old way – with nothing to mar our joy...