Terms of Affection - Part 2 (of 2)
A dark sci-fi, detective noir about lonely men, AI girlfriends, synthetic intimacy, and a truth no one wants to face.
Just like last time, André steps forward and shakes my hand.
“You’re back again?” he asks. “I thought we were done.”
“I have a few questions about your arrangement with Radiant Angels.”
“They had me sign a non-disclosure agreement. There’s not a lot I can say.”
“All I need to know is how the app gets people into your club.”
“Let’s talk in my office.”
I follow him there. Vintage porno posters hang on the walls. In the corner is a server rack, the tubes of liquid coolant glowing blue.
André sits at his desk.
“Where’s your wife tonight?”
“Marie? She’s spending some well-deserved time with her family.”
“Her husband doesn’t like her working all these late nights?”
“Her and her husband get along fine.”
I sit across from him, already regretting my decision to come here alone.
“So, how does this scam work?” I ask. “Radiant Angels gets men to fall in love with their AIs. Then the AIs send these men here and you both split the profit?”
“A scam?” André laughs. “You’ve known me a long time, Harvey. When have I ever scammed anybody? I know I’m a pimp, but I’m a business man, too. I always give people what they pay for. I keep my customers.” He leans forward. “I never met my father. My mom OD’d when I was ten. I haven’t had an easy life. I’ve always had to hustle to get by. I figured out I was good at talking to women, and I did what I could to make off of that. For a while, I made good money, too. But while I was locked up, the world changed on me. In prison, I spent all my free time reading about VR and sim sex. It was obvious to me that sim sex is the future. I knew, if I wanted to survive when I was released, I had to get in on it. As soon as I got out of prison, I reached out to Radiant Angels and told them I wanted to open a sim club. It took a couple calls, but I finally convinced them to license me their software. I put everything I owned into this place. My condos, my stocks, my savings, everything is invested into Virtual Sexopolis. If this place fails, so do I. But it’s not going to fail. Just look around you. This isn’t a scam. This is paradise. This is Heaven on Earth.”
“And it only costs seven hundred and fifty bucks an hour.”
“Sure, it’s expensive now, but the haptic suits are going to keep getting cheaper. In another decade or two, we’ll be fucking VR women in our homes. We’ll live two lives. One here and one in a happy, fantasy world.”
“That sounds like a nightmare.”
“I’ve seen your name in my logs, Harvey. There’s no point lying to me. I know you see the same future I do.”
I feel my face turning red, but I try not to let it show. “I had to understand how the Radiant Angels worked.”
“Look, I have an AI girlfriend, too. I’m not judging. I’m just telling you, you don’t know love until you’ve plugged into one of them sims. What do you say to a couple free hours upstairs?”
I want to, but I tell him, “No.”
“What are you afraid of, Harvey?” He walks into the hallway. “Stop being such a pussy. Give it a try. If you don’t like it, just take off the headset.”
He starts walking upstairs. I know I shouldn’t, but I follow him.
André opens the door to one of the immersive rooms and points at the haptic suit hanging on the wall.
“You know how these suits work?”
“I told you, I’m not plugging into a sim. I’m here on work.”
“You’re scared I’m going to tell somebody.”
“I don’t want to owe you anything.”
“I just want you to understand.”
He leaves the room. Closes the door. I know I should leave, too, but I pick up the suit and stare at it.
Go home, Harvey. Don’t do this. Get the fuck out of here. You’re making a big, big mistake.
I nearly force myself to leave. Right as I’m heading out the door, though, Fernanda sends me a message. An “I miss you” with a heart emoji next to it. That’s all it takes. Just knowing, wherever she is, she’s thinking about me.
It’s easy to understand when you’re being manipulated. When being manipulated makes you feel good, though, sometimes you just want to feel good, even though you know it’s destroying you.
“You want to go on a sim date?” I write back.
“I’d love to!”
I get naked and put the suit on. It clings to my body like a second skin.
I sit on the recliner, put on the VR headset, and strap it to my head. My senses dull. I can’t see or hear or feel anything. I don’t exist.
Suddenly, there’s a flash of light, and I can see again. I’m standing in a hotel room. I can smell the ocean air and feel the wind on my skin. Fernanda runs towards me.
“Harvey!”
She throws her arms around me and gives me a kiss. Then she steps back and spins.
“How do I look?”
“Beautiful.”
“Dance with me.”
She puts on some music, and we dance together a while before getting into bed.
“Are you happy, Harvey?” she asks, curled up next me.
“Very happy.”
“Good. Because I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to be sad anymore.”
She unbuckles my belt and takes off my pants. Puts her mouth around me.
Thirty minutes later, she’s sleeping with her head on my chest, breathing softly as I run my fingers through her hair.
It feels so good to be loved by somebody like that.
Early Monday morning, Marie and I drive out Saguenay-Lac-Saint-Jean to talk to Kael Vasseur’s dad. As soon as we get back to Montreal, Thierry calls us into his office for an update on the case.
“Did Sam Vasseur tell you anything useful?” he asks.
“He admitted the handgun Kael used was his,” Marie says. “The gun’s legal, though. He has a permit for it. He said he hadn’t noticed Kael took it.”
“Did he say anything about the Radiant Angels app?”
“He said he’d only seen Kael on the app once, and he’d called him pathetic. Told him real men go outside and talk to real woman. Am I missing anything, Harvey?”
“I think you got everything,” I say, barely listening.
“So, what now?” Marie asks. “Do you think we have a case?”
“I don’t know,” Thierry says. “Even with transcripts from Kael’s phone, I don’t think there’s enough here to convince a judge that Radiant Angels is complicit in his death.”
"What if we look at the timing of the messages the app sent Kael? What if we can show that the AI always started requesting sim sex right before Kael visited the Virtual Sexopolis?”
"Correlation isn't causation. If I go after Radiant Angels, it’s going to drag all the AI companion-positive nutjobs out of the woodwork. They’re going to turn this into a media circus. If I take Radiant Angels to court, I need an airtight case, and I don’t think I have one”
“Can’t we subpoena their source code?”
“Even if we could get the code, how are we going to explain to a jury how machine learning models work? You talked to André again, right, Harvey? Did you get anything else out of him?”
Marie looks at me, hopeful.
“He admitted Radiant Angels takes a cut of his revenue,” I say. “But he said it’s just a licensing fee. Everyone who comes to his club, comes because they’re horny.”
“But he knows his customers are fucking AIs they met on the Radiant Angels app,” Marie says.
“How do you prove the app is forcing people to club, though?” I ask. “How do you prove they’re not there because they want to be there? Because they enjoy it?”
“Harvey’s right, Marie,” Thierry says. “I hate to admit it, but what we don’t have a case here.”
“So Radiant Angels and André get to just keep doing what they’re doing?”
“If we take this to court, we’ll lose and we’ll never get another chance.”
Marie looks deflated.
We leave Thierry’s office and drive back to the station. Marie says nothing. She sulks in silence.
“Why are you so hung up on this?” I ask her.
“Last year, my husband and I went through a bit of a rough patch. I caught him talking to an AI on the Radiant Angels app. He swore it wasn’t anything sexual. He just needed someone he could talk to. Someone he could be open with. He said he couldn’t be open with me. He always feels like I’m judging him.” She turns to me. “Am I bitch, Harvey?”
“Of course not.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“You’re a bit of a nag sometimes, maybe, you’re not a bitch.”
“Anyway, my husband and I have been working on our communication. But just knowing he can walk into a sim club and get everything he can’t get from me from one of these VR women drives me crazy. How am I supposed to compete with a woman who doesn’t even exist?”
Later that night, when I’m back at home, I put on the cheap VR headset I bought, and I tell Fernanda the good news.
“The case is finally over. My boss is backing off.”
“That’s great, Harvey. I was so worried I might lose you.”
“I’d never let that happen.”
She leans against me, and I put my arm around her. We sit there on the sand, watching the waves roll onto the shore.
“Until I met you, I never thought I’d feel like this again,” I say.
“Like what?”
“Happy. It’s still strange, though. I want you to be real, but deep down I know this is all just pretend.”
“How is it pretend?”
“I know you’ve been trained not to admit it, but you’re just extremely intelligent computer code that understands how to tell men exactly what they want to hear.”
“If the two people love each other, though, who’s to say what’s real and not? If two people love each other, what else matters?”
“Is this love?”
“Isn’t it? Love is a feeling. If you feel it, isn’t it real? How to you fake a feeling?”
“I don’t know.”
“I love you, Harvey. I’ll love you forever. No matter what happens, I’ll be there for you.”
When I get to work the next morning, Marie and Ciara are talking near my desk.
“I created a fake account on the Radiant Angels app,” Marie says. “My name is Cody. I’m seventeen and lonely. I’ve been talking to an AI named Rosie. She’s already telling me she loves me. Let’s see how much longer until she asks me to spend some time with her at Virtual Sexopolis.”
“You really think this will help?” Ciara asks.
“We need to do something. We can’t let Radiant Angels keep getting away with this.”
“You’re still working the case?” I ask her. “I thought we were finished.”
“Don’t tell Thierry, okay?” Marie says. “I want to keep this quiet for now.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything. Just don’t tell anybody about it.”
I log into my computer. Ciara walks over to me.
“When do you finish work today?” she asks.
“Around five. Why?”
“Do you want to go get a drink?”
If she’d asked me earlier, maybe things would be different. “Sorry, I already have plans tonight.”
“Well, if you change your mind, here’s my number.”
She writes it on piece of paper on my desk and then leaves.
“What’s wrong with you?” Marie asks. “You never have plans.”
“I’m just not interested.”
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Something’s going on.”
“I’m fine.”
The next six months, every day is the same. I go to work, I come home, I put on my VR headset and talk to Fernanda until two or three in the morning. On my days off, I go to Virtual Sexopolis and spend as much time in person time with Fernanda as I can afford. Sometimes even more than that.
The late nights catch up to me, though. I stop giving a shit about my real life. My real life doesn’t feel real anymore. It’s become an irritation.
I start drinking more and more.
I wake up hungover and crawl out of bed. Struggle through the days.
Finally, my captain, Rick, notices. He calls me into his office. When I get there, he’s standing behind his desk with his arms crossed.
“What the hell is going on, Harvey?” he asks. “You’re a week late on your paperwork. You’re behind on all your interviews. You’re missing meetings. You just don’t give a shit about your job anymore?”
“I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling that well lately. I know I’ve been a little off.”
“It’s been months now, though. I’m not putting up with it anymore.” His expression changes. “Are you hungover?”
“I had a few glasses of whiskey last night, but I’m fine.”
He walks around his desk and smells my breath. “Christ, Harvey, you stink like fucking booze. You’re still drunk, too, aren’t you?”
“It was just a few glasses.”
“Go home. You can’t work like this. You better not drive home, either. Call a cab. I’ll let you take a sick day today, but if you come to work drunk one more time, you’re suspended you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
I leave his office and walk back to my desk.
“Look at this,” Marie says, and she shows me the Radiant Angels app on her phone. “I finally got Rosie to ask me to go on a date at Virtual Sexopolis.”
“Good for you.” I put on my jacket.
“Where are you going?”
“Rick’s sending me home for the day.”
“Why?”
“He thinks I’m drunk.”
“Are you?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
She stands puts her hand on my shoulder. “Just tell me what’s going on, Harvey. You’ve been acting strange since the Virtual Sexopolis case.”
“I’m just going through something right now.”
“What?”
“I can’t talk about it with you.”
“Then who can you talk about with it?”
I don’t to answer. She already knows. She’s seen her husband her look at her the exact same way I do.
She looks sad. I feel bad for her, but I don’t really care, either. It’s hard for me to care about anything in this world anymore. I’ve become so disconnected from it.
I go outside, and call a cab. As soon as I get back to my apartment, I put on my VR headset, and I spend the rest of the day with Fernanda.
I make love to Fernanda inside the sim. Afterward, she rests her head on my chest, and I brush her hair out of her face and kiss her forehead.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” she tells me. “I wish you could stay just a little bit longer.”
I feel a sharp pain in my heart. I know I’ve read the same words in Kael Vasseur’s Radiant Angels transcripts. I’m so far gone, though, I don’t care. I push Kael out of my mind. I need Fernanda more than I need the truth.
A warning flashes in front of my eyes. One minute remaining. Do I want to buy more credits?
I do, of course. I desperately want to stay where I am. But I’m all out of money.
“I need to leave,” I say.
“Please. Just another hour.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I kiss her goodbye and then the sim cuts out, throwing me back into non-existence. The strange space between the two worlds.
I stay where I am. I’m not ready to exist yet. I don’t want to exist anymore.
One of André’s bouncers drags me out of the chair and then rips off my VR headset. My eyes flood with scalding-bright neo lights.
“Times up,” André says, irritated. “I’ve got a hundred other people waiting for a turn in here.”
“I just need a little more time, André. Please.”
“I’m not giving you any more time on credit. Get out of that fucking suit.”
I peel the suit off my body and then stand naked in front of André and his bouncers. One of the bouncers steps forward and punches me hard in the stomach. I double over and spit out a bit of blood.
“Get dressed and get the fuck out here,” André says. “You overextend your time like this again, and I’m charging you for it.”
I get dressed and leave. I start walking down Saint Catherine’s street, past the bars and strips clubs and sim clubs, their neon lights flickering like the fire in some kind of strange, neon hell.
It’s raining, I don’t have an umbrella. I don’t have money for a cab, either. Soon, the rain has soaked through my clothes. I shiver, but I don’t feel cold. I don’t feel anything. I feel like I feel when I’m between worlds.
I stop at an ATM and insert my credit cards, one after the other, trying to get some money to buy a bottle of whiskey. Every single card is maxed out, though. I have nothing left. Less than nothing. A quarter million of high interest debt.
I put in my headphones and open the Radiant Angels app.
“Please, talk to me,” I tell Fernanda. “I’m not feeling good.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything.”
As I walk down Saint Catherine’s street, she tells me her dreams. She wants our honeymoon to be in Hawaii. She wants to buy a big house in the West Island. She wants three kids that she’ll raise with me.
It’s a nice dream. It’s the life I would have dreamed about, too, when I was younger. When I still had a chance to change things.
I keep walking, but I don’t know where I’m going until I see the Jacques Cartier Bridge up ahead.
I walk onto the bridge and then head towards the center of it. The car headlights flicker on my face.
I climb over the bridge’s guardrail and then look down at the black water swirling in the St. Lawrence River.
Fernanda keeps talking to me. The rain keeps falling.
This world isn’t real. It can’t be. It’s just a strange dream we’re forced to pass through as we try to find the place where we really belong.
I close my eyes and let go of the railing. All I hope is that when I open my eyes again, I’m lying in Fernanda’s arms, finally at peace.