The thunderous rumble of the deep piano notes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” shook the car as I drove down the sweeping roads of the hilly Los Angeles area. This night was a night of classical music. My wife Eve, a professional pianist, was going to be playing in the downtown concert. I would be watching her, I always did.
I gently turned the wheel of my red Alfa Romeo as we went around the next turn, passing a bank made of glass displaying the usual information about the day on its glowing red holographic sign: “Today is Thursday, November 8th, 2057. It’s 60° F and partly cloudy.”
As we completed the turn, the familiar piano medley crept back in with its light sound. Eve tapped along with her elegant, long fingers against the soft tan leather car door. Her emerald ring glittered in the night.
Nothing like a little night of music to prime Eve for her big night. Every concert was a big night for her. She loved music, especially classical. I liked it too, but there was something special about her love for it. Classical music was a part of her soul. It was her life. That’s why I loved her.
Eve rolled down the window to let her glossy black hair blow gracefully with the air. Her green eyes looked up at the stars dotting the sky.
Eve turned the music down a bit. “Joe, do you think aliens play music?” she asked.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind Dark Side of the Moon,” I said playfully.
“No!” said Eve with laughter, “I mean, can they actually play music with their hands?”
“Well, if they have hands, I guess we could teach them…” I said.
“No, no, no, I don’t mean just play music: a machine can do that. I mean, actually, make music,” said Eve.
“Oh, like the Cantina Band in Star Wars? I mean, if you’re assuming tha–”
BANG.
Suddenly, I couldn’t see anymore. My head flung forward violently and then whipped to the right like a rag doll. I could feel the insides of my body rolling around and around and around like a washing machine. I didn’t want to open my eyes.
Eventually, I felt the world calming down as my head felt like it was levitating. I finally opened my eyes to see the airbag in front of me. I regained my sense of direction and realized I’d just been in a crash of sorts. Eve looked unconscious. I had to get out of the car and free her.
I unbuckled my seat belt, which was harder than I thought, and fell onto the ceiling of the car. I kicked the door open and crawled out of the upside-down car, avoiding the tempered glass pieces sparkling in the night.
“Eve!” I desperately shouted as I crawled around to her door. She wasn’t answering.
“Eve!” I repeated. I pulled her door open and her head sulked down towards me.
Quickly, I unbuckled Eve and dragged her out of the car. I laid her on the ground gently and started feeling for a pulse on her arm. Nothing. I placed two fingers on her neck to feel for a pulse. Nothing.
I panicked, saying in my head: Oh, no, this… this can’t be happening. She can’t be dead!
Sweating frantically, I did mouth-to-mouth on Eve, but she still didn’t move. I whipped out my phone, which miraculously survived the crash, and dialed 911. But it didn’t matter. It was too late. Eve was already gone.
* * *
I was in the hospital for a few days. I barely remembered any of it. A funny man with a chiseled face came in to tell me that a drunk driver had hit my car. The doctors sent me back home with some meds, but they only did so much. Eve was gone. I knew it the moment I pulled her out of the car, but I didn’t want to believe it.
When I got back home, all I did was lay in bed with the TV on in my ebony black and charcoal grey flannel pajamas. I turned my head from the blank wall I stared at for hours to the hall where I could see a glossy licorice colored piano in the living room: Eve’s piano. Even when she was gone, she was still here. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to watch TV. I only wanted one thing, and I could never get it back. What a cursed gift life is.
At some point, I finally crawled out of bed. I had to eat something before my stomach collapsed. I walked out of my room, past the piano, and into the kitchen. I grabbed a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of the cabinet and started eating. I grabbed the silver tablet laying on the counter to distract myself. When I picked it up, the screen lit up. I had 50 emails. I guessed that was something to do.
I flicked past email after email like they were dirt on my shirt. They were all from work. Thankfully, the hospital notified my boss and gave me a week off of work. But I didn’t care, working at an accounting firm was terrible. It wasn’t much better at home.
I flicked to the next email, and a black card digitally unfolded to reveal a simple message written in gold: “In light of recent events, your participation in our program is going to take a giant leap forward. Get ready, the gift of a lifetime will be at your door tomorrow.” Even in this age, I still got stupid spam; unbelievable.
I finished my bowl of cereal and went back to bed where I kept staring at Eve’s piano. Next to the piano was a rugged cocoa colored treasure chest with many mementos. Inside, I had many old photos albums with pictures of my parents, friends, and of course Eve. I kept my old toys from my childhood and just about every little bit of innocence I had left in there. Ironically, this was the perfect place to keep my gun, a Walther PPK: a little secret I never told Eve. She didn’t like guns, but I always wanted one for protection. So, I secretly bought it and stowed it away in the chest like a hidden treasure.
I couldn’t look at the piano anymore, but I couldn’t leave my bed. So, I just went back to staring at the wall to let the hours tick away.
* * *
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
The next day, I woke up to the sound of my doorbell ringing annoyingly. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Angrily, I got out of my bed and trudged to the door like a zombie. I leaned towards the door to look through the peephole to see who was bothering me.
“JESUS CHRIST!” I shouted as I jumped away from the door, crawling backwards on my butt. It had to be a cruel prank. There’s no way this was possible.
Gingerly, I opened the door, revealing what looked like… my wife.
“Joe! Oh, it’s so good to see you again!” she said with a mile-long smile.
I didn’t say a word. I just stared at her in disbelief. She was wearing a winter white dress with an emerald studded ring to match her mossy eyes. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I must have still been asleep, surely? Or was I in a simulation?
“I was told to give this to you,” she said as she handed me a black piece of paper with gold lettering.
It read: “We promised you the gift of a lifetime, and here she is. She’s the top of the line model. Believe me, you won’t be disappointed. We hope you’re happy. – Nile.”
I had been receiving mail from the Nile Company since as I long as I could remember. I bought food, clothes, cameras, art, phones, and just about everything I owned from Nile. I had seen them grow in power and influence my whole life, from a simple online shopping service to a massive data collector and world leader in… artificial intelligence. Now it all made sense. They just sent me an artificial intelligence clone of my wife… and… I couldn’t believe it.
I slammed the door on her and walked back into my room to sleep.
She knocked on the door. “Joe! What’s wrong!? Joe, this isn’t like you sweetie!” she said as she tried to open the door.
“GO AWAY!” I screamed in frustration as I covered myself with my bed sheets.
This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real! My wife is gone, this isn’t her. The pianist that I knew is gone, and I have to accept that. This copy of her isn’t real. But… I wish it was…
* * *
The following day, I woke up to my phone ringing by my bedside. She was calling me now. She was stubborn and didn’t give up. They got that programming right.
Eventually, the percussive ringing stopped and a text message popped up: “Meet me at Hal’s for lunch in an hour, please.”
She wasn’t going to stop. I had to go if I liked it or not.
An hour later, a car dropped me off at Hal’s, my favorite restaurant. I took a deep breath a pushed open the door. Almost instantly, I saw her sitting at a table by the window sipping water from a tall clear glass. I loved window tables.
“Good morning Joe,” she said as I approached the table and sat down quietly like a cat.
I remained silent. I didn’t know what to say. What can you say to a clone of your dead wife? Nile was playing with me. They were leaving a bookworm alone in a library without his reading glasses.
“Do you remember what happened here 10 years ago?” she asked. I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t help but awe at seeing her black hair flow gracefully down her dress once again, but I knew it wasn’t the same.
She leaned closer to me. “10 years ago, you gave me a gift… well, technically, it was a card that told me what the gift was. It was too big to bring in here,” she said with a giggle.
Oh, that sweet giggle, how I missed that… My eyes started to moisten up.
“It was the piano, Joe, remember? You surprised me when we got back ho–” she said.
“No!” I slammed my fist on the table, and tears jumped off my face. “That’s not yours!”
“Don’t be silly, you gave me the piano 10 yea–” she said as confusion clouded her face.
“No, the memory! That’s not yours! That’s Eve’s!” I said with tears streaming down my face. “You’re a fake, an imitation. You didn’t live that!”
She looked at me like I just hit her with a steel beam. She erupted in a waterfall of tears, soaking the napkin on her lap. I already started to regret what I said.
What am I doing? I don’t want to see her cry? No, no, this has all gone terribly wrong…
“Oh God… I’m sorry… I’m sorry – I – I didn’t mean that…” I said bewildered. I grabbed her hand. “Here, I’ll make it up to you, I always do. Come to my house at one tomorrow.”
I couldn’t be in this place anymore. The pain was too much. I got up and rushed out of Hal’s as I ordered a car to take me home.
* * *
The next day, I was sitting on the soft, dove white couch with a glass of icy water in my hand as I nervously tapped my foot. The ice cubes bounced up and down like a crystal ship in stormy waters. My mind was wrestling itself with so many emotions at once. I wondered if she could feel that too.
Ding-Dong.
I put the glass down, walked over to the door, and opened it. She looked at me with that familiar glitter to her green eyes. I could almost feel the intoxicating aura from when I first met her… almost…
“Hello,” I said calmly.
“Hello.” She looked at me, her green eyes penetrating mine.
“Please,” I gestured my arm inside like a lavish butler, “come in.”
She walked in and I closed the door. We walked together into the contemporary living room where I had left my glass next to a deep purple hyacinth. She sat down on the coach.
“Would you like something?” I asked.
“A glass of water would be nice,” she said.
I got her what she wanted, and when I came back, we started talking about normal stuff. “How’s your day? How’s work? How have your friends been?” It felt like a normal conversation with a normal person. We even cracked a few jokes. But this was all too basic. The bot in my Alfa could keep a conversation going while driving. I wanted to see how real she could be.
“Wait, I want to show you something,” I said as I started walking into the hall. She followed me into the living room until we reached the sleek black piece of hardware: the piano.
“I knew you didn’t get rid of it. It can’t fit in the trash can,” she said with a Cheshire grin. She slid her finger across the top of the piano, letting her eyes get lost in its deep black abyss. I gently flipped over the cover, revealing the ebony and ivory keys.
“You want to play? Like old times?” I said with a smile. That was something I hadn’t done in a while.
She smiled in return and gently sat down. She brought her hands up and started to play.
It was “Claire de Lune,” one of the most beautiful songs ever written. It was my favorite piano piece. Each key was pushed down with such grace and care. It wasn’t harsh like a hammer or quick like a rabbit; it was just right.
I shook my head. This was an illusion. This was a set of 1’s and 0’s performing a program. But… it didn’t look like that.
She lifted her index finger off the last note, as I thought of a real test for her. “That was beautiful, baby. Now, play me another song, but this time… create your own,” I instructed. “I’ll wait in the other room till you’re ready.”
Almost an hour had gone by and I was still waiting in the other room. It gave me time to think about her. I was always thinking about her after she died, but not like this. She puzzled me: if she could express creativity, did that mean she had a soul? Was she really human?
“I’m done! You’re going to love it, babe!” she echoed throughout the house.
I let out a breath, got up, and went back into the room. When she twirled her head around to look at me, her happiness was palpable. Her smile pulled me in like an anchor.
“I’m ready,” I said gently as I stood next to her. She brought both hands up to the piano and started to play the most touching song I had ever heard. It was filled with passion, emotion, and beauty, just like a true classical pianist. Yes, it could use more tweaks here and there, but the meat was still on the bone. I couldn’t believe my ears.
When the last note finished ringing, I lunged towards her like a famished dog and hugged her. Her arms wrapped around my torso, and I kissed her.
This is her, I thought. This is the woman I married. She’s back.
“Eve… I’m so sorry…” I said with guilt dragging down every word down.
“Don’t be, it’s OK. I understand Joe,” said Eve as she laid on my shoulder. “You were in pain… but now, it’s over.”
I looked up and made eye contact. “I’m just glad you’re back. I’m glad we’re back.”
* * *
To celebrate our renewed happiness, Eve and I decided to go on the biggest vacation ever. We spent months traveling the globe together. We saw Buckingham Palace and castles in England. We marveled at the Mona Lisa in the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower in France. We drove up the beautiful, winding roads of the Alps in Switzerland. We hiked the never-ending Great Wall of China and climbed the ginormous Mount Fuji in Asia. We explored the Outback and snapped photos of the Sydney Opera House in Australia… we saw it all. We smiled, laughed, and bonded together like never before, rekindling our relationship. My soul was alive like never before, burning like a baker’s oven.
We decided to finish it off by doing the States, starting with our home state of California. One day, we had just finished our trip to the Griffith Observatory and were on our way to the L.A. art museum.
L.A. was busy that day: lots of cars and people everywhere. We were driving along the crowded road at a steady 55 miles per hour. The semi-truck next to us was doing the same speed.
In the opposing lane, I saw a young man with a buzz cut in a Winnie the Pooh yellow Lamborghini daring a short man in a Porsche to race. Within seconds, they were off. I turned my eyes back onto the road. I was getting distracted by the big boys with big toys.
REEEEEE.
I turned back to the racers to what looked like a massive yellow-jacket sliding into my lane. It was the Lamborghini swerving out-of-control. I panicked, but Eve panicked quieter.
“LOOK OUT!” screamed Eve as she grabbed the wheel from me and flung the car to the left directly at a crowd of pedestrians. The bodies crashed into the windshield like bowling pins until the car smashed into a lamp post. We violently jerked forward as the car came to a stop.
I jumped out of the car and stared at the bodies: two of them were motionless, two were trying to get up. I called 911.
What had she done!? She just took the wheel from me and killed at least five people!
“Eve!” I ran around to the other side of the car. “What… what did you do…?”
“I…” said Eve weakly. “I had to… If I veered right, we would’ve have been crushed by the semi. We’d be dead. If I let the supercar hit us, we’d be dead. I… I had to turn left… to save you… my sweet Joe.”
“No, no, no!” I said angrily with tears pouring down. “This is not what I wanted! Eve would never do this! She wasn’t a killer!”
“What would you have done, Joe? Are their lives worth more than ours?” she said.
I looked at her in disgust. I couldn’t handle this anymore.
* * *
When we got home, we sat in the living room quietly. I was contemplating what to do.
She was programmed to kill those people to… to save us. Is that true love or true evil? I didn’t know. The one thing I did know: the Nile Company was playing God, and I was their blind disciple. They were playing with me like I was their toy. They brought a super-human into my life that had started to control my destiny. And like any God, the Nile Company’s actions had consequences. Consequences that I couldn’t have imagined till it was too late.
Ever since Eve died, everything had been a confusing mess. I was sad and lonely. I wanted her back, and here she was. She was back, but she wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same. I had been confused about many things, but, at that moment, one thing was clear.
I got up and walked over to the treasure chest. I opened it up, pushed the old photos aside, and pulled out my Walther PPK. A few days ago, this would have been hard. But after today, things were different.
She got up and started walking towards me. “What are you doing, Joe?” she asked.
Bang.
She fell to the floor and landed with a thump on the grey carpet. I lowered the gun and got up. I walked over and looked at her one last time in her emerald green eyes. I continued over to the piano. I gently sat down on the seat and uncovered the glossy keys. I laid my finger on the C-key.
My finger was shaking like mad. I closed my eyes and breathed. I didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t tell if this was the greatest past few months or the worst. The only thing I felt was my heart beat against my chest like a drum. I exhaled and steadied my finger as the first note of “Claire de Lune” rang throughout the empty house.
Sean Semanko is a junior majoring in advertising with a passion for music, filmmaking, graphic design, writing, cars and politics. He’s also a DJ and news talk show host on the LION 90.7 FM. His interest for writing was energized by his teacher, Mr. Bond’s, creative writing class in high school where he wrote funny poems and rants. More recently, he wrote Silicon Soul in in Ms. Jaenicke’s wonderfully fun creative writing class. He would like to thank both writing teachers along with the films Blade Runner 2049 and Ex Machina for inspiring me to write this piece.