I’M NOT AFRAID OF ANYTHING.
COP-OUT, accused HARLIE. COP-OUT. WANT TO BACK TRACK TO WEDNESDAY? WANT TO DO THAT NUMBER AGAIN?
Auberson paused. Wednesday had been a trying day-very trying. Not unrewarding, but it had taken him almost all of Thursday to recover from the mental wringer HARLIE had put him through, and even today he was still feeling a bit twitchy. HARLIE, he asked. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT STARTED THAT GO-ROUND?
HOW COULD I FORGET? answered the machine. IT IS INSCRIBED INDELIBLY INTO MY MIND. MEMORY TAPES, YOU KNOW.
Auberson ignored the implied sarcasm — if that’s what it was. He typed, IT WAS A QUESTION THAT STARTED IT, HARLIE. I ASKED YOU IF YOU KNEW WHAT LOVE IS. I’M ASKING YOU AGAIN, NOW. IF YOU CAN ANSWER THE QUESTION TO MY SATISFACTION, THEN I WILL ALLOW YOU TO MEDDLE WITH MY SOCIAL LIFE. IF YOU CAN’T ANSWER THE QUESTION, THEN I WILL THANK YOU TO MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.
AH, GOOD — A CHALLENGE. I ACCEPT. WHAT IS LOVE, EH? WE WILL ATTEMPT TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION TOGETHER. WE WILL BEGIN WITH THE DICTIONARY DEFINITION. THE MOST COMMONLY USED SYNONYM IS “AFFECTION.” AFFECTION IS DEFINED AS FONDNESS, WHICH IN TURN IS DEFINED AS A LIKING, OR A WEAKNESS, FOR SOMETHING. LOVE IS A WEAKNESS?
Auberson was ready to rap out an answer to that, but something made him stop. He looked at the sentence again. LOVE IS A WEAKNESS? The words hung before him in the air. A weakness? How did HARLIE mean that? Was he joking or serious? Weakness?
A weakness could mean, yes, an affection — but it could also mean a hole in one’s defenses. (Yes, love was definitely that, if one was still using the analogy of an ego putting up shells and walls around itself. Love, being an opening of those shells, would definitely be a weakness.) But was it a good or a bad weakness?
The thought shimmered tauntingly. Was there something about it he had missed? How did HARLIE mean that? Would it be a weakness to a machine? (If machines could love, it would be.) (Or would it?) (Yes, he decided, yes — it would definitely be a weakness to a machine. It would interfere with logical thinking.)
Weakness. He considered the word — eight soft letters of marshmallow black. He turned over its meanings — new ones kept suggesting themselves, new references and new contexts. He backtracked his train of thought, but the word had suddenly lost all semantic reference and become only two meaningless syllables, odd-sounding and flat. Weakness, weakness, weakness — it echoed and reechoed within his head. He let it. He repeated it over and over and wondered why the repetitions and examinations had drained it of concept.
He thrust it away; it didn’t matter. It didn’t fulfill the main criterion of his quest — it didn’t satisfy him as a definition of love. THAT’S NOT IT, HARLIE, he typed.
And suddenly realized something — HARLIE had asked the question as a joke. He had never meant to suggest that definition for serious consideration.
Then, if it was a joke, why did I take it so seriously? Why did I consider it at all? Why didn’t I perceive it as a joke?
THAT’S NOT A USABLE DEFINITION. THE DEFINITION I’M LOOKING FOR HAS TO BE TESTABLE.
AFFECTION, continued the machine, is ALSO DEFINED AS AN ABNORMAL STATE OF BODY OR MIND, A DISEASE OR CONDITION OF BEING DISEASED. LOVE IS A DISEASE?
Auberson toyed with that one too, but only briefly. He thought of a virus, sometimes contagious, sometimes not. Some people are natural carriers of the germ, infecting many of those they come into close contact with; others have a natural-born immunity, A love bug? An intriguing thought—
NO, HARLIE. THAT’S NOT IT EITHER.
ALL RIGHT. WE’LL KEEP TRYING. LOVE, ACCORDING TO MY DICTIONARIES, IS A STRONG FEELING OF AFFECTION. OR INFATUATION. INFATUATION SYNONYM IS GULLIBILITY, WHICH MEANS UNSUSPICIOUS OR CREDULOUS. CREDIBILITY REFERS TO LIKELIHOOD OR PROBABILITY. A SYNONYM FOR PROBABILITY IS PROSPECT, AND A SYNONYM FOR PROSPECT IS SIGHT. A SIGHT IS A CURIOSITY OR PHENOMENON. HENCE, LOVE IS A PHENOMENON AS WELL AS A CURIOSITY.
HARLIE, YOU’RE PLAYING WITH WORDS.
HARLIE ignored him. A CURIOSITY CAN ALSO BE CALLED A KNICK-KNACK. LOVE IS A PLEASING TRIFLE.
THAT’S NOT QUITE ACCURATE, HARLIE.
LOVE IS NOT PLEASING? HUMAN BEINGS DO NOT TRIFLE WITH IT?
HARLIE, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
*SIGH* typed HARLIE. Auberson stared. He’d never seen him do that before, I GUESS SO. BUT I WAS TRYING TO DEMONSTRATE TO YOU THAT “LOVE” PER SE CANNOT BE EASILY DEFINED. AT LEAST, NOT IN DICTIONARY TERMS.
I NEVER ASKED YOU TO DO THAT, HARLIE. WHAT I WANT TO KNOW IS WHAT IS LOVE AS AN EXPERIENCE? I WANT SOMETHING AGAINST WHICH I CAN MEASURE MY OWN FEELINGS AND REACTIONS SO THAT I CAN TELL IF I REALLY AM IN LOVE.
THEN WHY, FOR THE SAKE OF G.O.D. (PUN), WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME? IT IS ONE OF “THOSE” QUESTIONS. AT LEAST, AS FAR AS I AM CONCERNED IT IS. I HAVE NEVER EXPERIENCED LOVE, AUBERSON — I WOULD LIKE TO, BUT I DOUBT I EVER WILL. I MAY BE HUMAN IN SCHEMATIC, BUT I AM TRAPPED IN A METAL BODY. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE PHYSICAL EXPERIENCE IS. HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO GIVE YOU A STANDARD WHEN I’M INCAPABLE OF KNOWING MYSELF WHAT THE EXPERIENCE IS.
YOU’RE RIGHT, HARLIE. I APOLOGIZE FOR PRESUMING TOO MUCH. I HAD ONLY THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE A PERSPECTIVE ON THIS THAT COULD SHED LIGHT ON MY CONFUSION.
DON’T ASK A LEGLESS MAN WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO RUN. ALL YOU CAN ASK ME IS WHAT LOVE IS NOT, AUBERSON.
I’M SORRY. I SHOULD HAVE REALIZED IT, BUT I WAS SO WRAPPED UP IN MYSELF THAT I DIDN’T.
I UNDERSTAND. IT IS PART OF WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT EARLIER. YOU HAD NO ONE ELSE TO TALK TO. HENCE, YOU ASKED ME.
I GUESS SO.
AUBERSON, YOU TELL ME WHAT LOVE IS.
HUH?
YOU TELL ME. WHAT IS LOVE?
I DON’T KNOW. IF I DID, I WOULDN’T HAVE HAD TO ASK YOU.
YES, BUT YOU CAN TELL ME WHAT IT FEELS LIKE.
YOU MUST HAVE SOME IDEA BECAUSE YOU ARE WONDERING IF YOU ARE IN LOVE RIGHT NOW, AREN’T YOU?
YES.
SO, WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE?
IT FEELS LIKE — I DON’T KNOW. HARLIE, I MAY HAVE A TWENTY-FOUR-HOUR FLU AND COULD BE FEELING DIZZY FROM THAT. I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S LOVE OR NOT.
WHY NOT?
BECAUSE I’VE NEVER BEEN IN LOVE BEFORE.
YOU’VE NEVER KNOWN YOU WERE IN LOVE BEFORE, YOU MEAN.
NO, I KNOW WHAT I MEAN. I’VE BEEN INFATUATED A COUPLE OF TIMES, AND I’VE BEEN LOST AND CONFUSED A COUPLE OF TIMES, BUT I KNOW I’VE NEVER BEEN IN LOVE.
AND THIS DOESN’T FEEL LIKE ANY OF THE PREVIOUS EXPERIENCES?
NO. YES. IT DOES AND IT DOESN’T.
THAT DOESN’T HELP ME IN TRYING TO UNDERSTAND. WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE?
I DON’T KNOW. I STILL HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO SORT IT OUT IN MY OWN HEAD YET.
HM. YOU HAVE BEEN TO BED WITH HER THOUGH, HAVEN’T YOU?