It hit him. The screeching of the tyres was the last thing that could be heard. But he would survive, wouldn’t he? That was the whole design, from the beginning. The schematics would iron out the smaller wrinkles. He would survive. She knew he would.
The experimentation of convergence started at the turn of the century. The next step in artificial intelligence came with the basic idea of convergence. The technicality was replaced by primal idea of creation. Artificiality could be reproduced Naturally. The first electronic womb was synthesized in Roxanne. The abdominal area was sliced open and the first naturally inseminated artificial intelligence, came to this world. The idea was simple, What was born from the womb, died in dust. Simple as such.
Twenty years later, John showed signs of love for the first time. For the first time he saw Diana. She was buying a new pair of heels. He was intrigued and excited. Nothing planned for, nothing which was anticipated. A primal feeling that was starting to get the better of him. He wasn’t afraid, he was never raised to be a coward. He walked up to her, and talked to her, complimenting her new sandals. Compliments worked, that much he knew. And by the analysis of her expressions, they were working wonderfully well. But then he knew they were different. Artificial and Natural. But she was the one, and he just knew that. He needed her, and for that he needed to act as if he belonged with her. He had to be someone he was not.
Years passed. She never got a whiff of what he was. In every act, in every moment, in every breath she knew they were the same. She knew they were meant to be. The worlds and the minds had converged seamlessly. It was her birthday. John had planned out a surprise for her on the bridge. She knew about that, but she played along. She couldn’t break his heart, or just the complex integration of circuitry which replaced it. It was around seven in the night that he called her to the bridge. She took out the sandals that she had bought the first time that they met. He would’ve remembered obviously. He was supposed to record everything.
She walked to the cafe on the bridge, which was already decorated with dotted lights of all colors. And at the gate leading up to it, stood John, looking handsome and with the largest grin on his face, just few feet from her. A loud thud somewhere beyond them, made the two of them look at the source. A delivery van had one of it’s tyres blasted, and swiveled uncontrollably towards them. And before she could realize what happened, The van smashed through a few tables before the gate and then into John.
The screeching sound of tyres was what she heard. But he could survive. That was the design from the beginning. The schematics would iron out the smaller wrinkles. But then she saw something that shook her to the core. She saw blood. Blood gushing out. He was not what she thought he was. He was not one of her. He could die. She couldn’t. She was born from the womb, but the idea failed. She couldn’t die in the dust.