“Then I wrote love,” Rajneesh says, fighting tears. “The odds were against me, here on earth, in this unfair, unjust, biased life. But in Uranus, the world I created, I could do justice to myself. There will be no Michele or Daddy in my way, I thought. All I needed was to link her name to trigger a special program.”
“So that explains the name Lynda hardcoded in the source,” Michele jumps in.
“It’s actually Lynda Honestman that is hardcoded. It turns out Lynda is the 2nd most popular name in the US, but Honestman is a douchebag, made-up family name that only a dumbass senator would adopt.”
Senator shoots him a menacing glare.
“The special program that you wrote, what does it do exactly?” Ryan asks.
“That I don’t know,” Rajneesh says, shrugging.
“What?! You wrote the program!”
“No one can program love. It has too many variables, too non-deterministic, too complicated to be described as an algorithm. I had to make use of AI.”
“A who?” Senator asks.
“A I. Artificial Intelligence. It is—”
“I know what Artificial Intel Agency is,” Senator says, almost shouting.
“Yes, you surely know. Anyway, I used machine learning to train a deep neural network. I had an abundance of training data at my disposal; all the romantic relationships that we had captured in the research phase of Uranus. All I needed to do was define the target score function.”
“English please,” President asks, yawning in his hologram.
“The score function is what defines how the neural network is trained. The higher the output of the score function on a particular structure of the neurons, the more the program is tuned in favor of that.”
“And your score function was…?” Ryan asks after a moment of silence.
“Of course, her interest in my character.”
“NPC! You have a non-player character in the game?!”
“Yeah, Virtual Rajneesh. It’s an exact replica of me, same excellence, same perfection.” Having his chest pumped, Rajneesh raises his chin.
“But you’re not playing,” Ryan snaps, frustrated. “What’s in it for you?” Taking a step closer, he looks Rajneesh in the eye.
“I might not be the one playing,” Rajneesh responds, looking away, “but at least my character will get some.”
“Pathetic,” Ryan spits, holding his head between his hands. “Absolutely pathetic.”
“You hypocrites,” Rajneesh shoots back. “You all do the same, every single one of you, every single day. You, Senator. You well know that all the respect you get from people is for your senator persona, not for your piece-of-a-shit self. And still, you get a kick out of that. You, lover boy. Your whole life is spent on building up this character, Ryan, the gamer. Why? Because Lynda fancies that. But deep down you know damn well she does not love the real Ryan.”
“Do I?” Ryan asks, brows knitting. “She went into Uranus only for me. You said it yourself.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“How do you—”
“Boys. Boys,” President interrupts, his hologram glowing in the center of the room. “Save your testosterone for some other time. Michele, so what does this injected program exactly do?”
“Well… Well…,” she sputters.
“How would she know,” Rajneesh sneers. “It is a machine-generated code. It’s not an algorithm that one could explain. It’s the machine deciding what to do.”
“Remove the code then,” President commands. “Clean the mess up.”
“That might fix our official release of Uranus,” Michele responds, “but any tampering with the code would push the existing gamers into a permanent coma.”
“That is the compromise we have to make,” President says in a flat voice, dismissing Michele’s point with an airy wave.
“That includes Lynda, Senator’s daughter,” Ryan growls.
“I know who Lynda is.” President scowls at Ryan. “The road to success is made of compromises, and the good senator here has made plenty of them already. He knows damn well that this is the right compromise to make for the good of the shareholders, which he is one of. Right, Senator?”
All eyes on Senator Honestman, he eventually nods, his shameful eyes staring at the floor.
“That’s settled then.” President claps his hands. “No great innovation in human history is achieved without a little sacrifice. This would be ours—”
“Lynda is not yours to sacrifice,” Ryan spits.
“Not yours to save either.” President gives Ryan a condescending look. You’re dismissed, soldier. Free to go.” Natural light pours in when an exit door opens on the dome. “Thanks for your service.” President gestures Ryan out while turning to Senator.
“But, Michele, you said—,” Ryan says before getting interrupted.
“We thanked you for your cooperation, soldier,” President yells, turning back to Ryan again, “and that’s the end of it.” He lays his scorching glare on Ryan for a long moment. “Needless to say”—he lowers his voice—“your contributions to Uranus will be handsomely rewarded.” The two girls in bikinis wait for Ryan by the exit doorway. Offering irresistible smiles, they wave to Ryan in unison.
His heart preoccupied with the care he has for Lynda, Ryan finds it easy to look away from the two gorgeous girls. He is silent, and not because he is intimidated by President—which he is a bit—but because he knows a good gamer, instead of banging his head on the wall of a dead-end path, will take a step back, reassess the situation, and figure out an alternative route. He just needs to think, and think hard.
“Now,” President continues, turning to Michele. “I’m going offline for my tanning-bed time. Michele, keep me posted. You did well today. Finish the job and tomorrow we’ll discuss your promotion to partnership. Senator, you’re in charge. I trust you’ll do what needs to be done,” he says, giving Senator a meaningful look.
Brows wrinkled, Senator looks away.
President starts undressing in his hologram.
“President,” Michele says while looking away, “I can see everything.”
“Good for you,” President sneers over his shoulder, and then the hologram fades away.
The disappearing hologram of naked President is replaced with a lectern that erects through the floor, with a giant red button on it that says ‘reset’.
“Michele—” Senator calls, his voice hoarse, holding out the yellow pocket square.
Like a programmed robot, Michele dismisses Senator’s plea and shuffles to the erected stand as instructed by President.
Watching Michele’s determination, Senator does not continue. Dropping his head, he covers his face with his hands.
Michele stops. “For what’s worth,” she squeaks without looking up, “I’m sorry, David. You know I loved Lynda like she’s my own daughter, and you saw I did everything I could. But…but President has spoken and there is no choice left but to obey.” She resumes her march toward the lectern while saying, “God, I hate this job.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute…” Ryan snaps, filled with excitement.
Her hand on top of the reset button, Michele stops. Everybody turns to Ryan.
“What if this is not the only issue with Uranus?”
Michele’s attention is grabbed.
Ryan resists a triumphant smile. “We don’t know what the coder is up to,” he continues. “All we know is that he lied to us before. There’s no guarantee that he’s telling the truth now. What if there are other issues with Uranus that the coder’s hiding?”
Rajneesh sighs. “I’m a software engineer, asshole,” he says with a tired voice.
“Senator.” Ryan turns to him. “Would you jeopardize the whole future of the company over trusting a troll?”
Rajneesh growls.
Senator brightens, eyes dilating.
“He’s not wrong, Senator,” Michele says from behind. “You can never trust a coder.”
“It’s Software Engineer, you freaking idiots,” Rajneesh barks. “Who’s in charge here? Now, this hot-for-Lynda teenager tells us what to do. He’s just delusional that Lynda might still be in love with him, which is obviously not true. Let’s just…be reasonable here. Let’s just untie these hands, and…and we all go home. Okay? I’m just telling you the truth. You can trust me.” Rajneesh finishes his proposal, offering an empty smile.
Eyes bright, Senator says, “Only one way to find out—”
“Ah, goddamn it,” Rajneesh spits.
“I now have a fiduciary obligation to keep the prototype alive,” Senator continues, welcoming a smirk smile onto his face.
“Any plan?” Michele asks Ryan. “What makes you think you won’t fail this time?”
“Because I’m no longer afraid,” Ryan responds, pumped up with a fresh dose of confidence.
“Of the game?”
“Of love. Only true love could save Lynda, and I am it.”
“What a load of crap,” Rajneesh mutters.
“What’s her new character after the last reincarnation?” Ryan asks Michele.
“She is a 23-year-old actress…living in LA,” Michele looks at the hologram of the words that glow around her head.
“Any romance currently in her life?” Ryan asks, eyes narrowed.
“Yes. She has a boyfriend, also 23. They live together.”
“Perfect! Incarnate me into the boyfriend’s character.” Drunk with excitement, Ryan leaps onto his recliner.
“He just wants to get laid. It’s so obvious,” Rajneesh says in a begging voice. “How can you not see that?”
“Funny coincidence!” Michele says. “His name is also Ryan.”
“Works for me.” Ryan winks at Rajneesh.
“Oh man,” Rajneesh whines.
The helmet on his head, Ryan sleeps into the game, to play the lucky boyfriend of a 23-year-old LA actress in Uranus.