Michael 2.0

Part 5

“Good morning, Charlotte,” Michael greeted as soon as he was activated. “You look well today.”

“Thank you, Michael, please sit with me.”

He obeyed, always with a smile. Charlie was still angry from the previous night’s fiasco, but she knew she had to do her job and interact with Michael.

“That is a lovely necklace you are wearing.” Michael noticed. “Diamond, is that correct?”

“Oh,” Charlie remembered Mike’s gift and sighed. “Yes, it is.”

“It looks very beautiful.”

“Thank you, Michael. If you don’t mind, today, I wanted to do something different with you.”

“A game?”

“Well, we can call it a game,” she was holding a few papers in her hands. “I have a few images here that I’d like to share with you. What I want you to do is to tell me what you think about them, and what you feel when you see them.”

“Alright.”

“Can we start?”

“Anytime.”

Charlie showed him the first image: a little puppy being held by his owner, a boy.

Michael took the picture and examined it for a few seconds. “That is beautiful,” he smiled “An animal and a boy. They look so happy together. They must be friends, like us, Charlotte.”

Charlie smiled and took notes of his reactions before showing him the second image: a famous picture of the Vietnam War with a little girl running naked on the street, suffering from severe burning.

The robot took the picture, and his smile vanished. “Oh, Charlotte! Who is this poor little girl? What is happening? Why is she like this?”

“This was a war, Michael,” Charlotte explained. “This girl lost her family when a bomb exploded in near her house. She is in pain because her body is burning.

Michael shook his head vehemently. “This is horrible, so horrible! She is a little child! Who would do such thing to her? What happened to her? Do you know her?”

Charlie was fascinated by his reaction; no one would say that was not genuine pain. “She survived,” she calmed him down. “She survived, and she is very happy now.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “I’m happy to know she survived. But still, I am sad she went through this as a child. It’s horrible.”

“It is,” Charlie agreed, as she took more notes. “But she is well now. Now, next image.”

She handed him a picture of a mother seeing her baby for the first time after labor. Michael took it and blinked twice.

“That is lovely,” he commented. “Look how happy and proud she looks. Is it her baby?”

“Yes, she is meeting her baby for the first time.”

“That is very, very beautiful. She loves the baby very much, I can see it.” Michael sighed. “I do not have a mother. I wonder if I had one, if she would look at me like that.”

The observation caught Charlie by surprise; for a minute she forgot Michael was not human.

“Oh, well, Michael, not everyone have parents.”

“Do you have parents, Charlotte?”

She looked down; “No, Michael. My parents died when I was three years old.”

“Oh, Charlotte! I am so sorry!” Michael said, suddenly reaching for her hand and holding it firmly. “You also have no parents! I am sorry… I should not have said that.”

“It’s alright, Michael,” Charlie tried to smile. “I don’t remember them anyway. It’s been a long time.”

“We are very alike, then,” he observed. “We both do not have a mother. But I am sure yours looked at you like this when she first met you.”

Fighting the tears, Charlie looked at Michael’s tender eyes; was it weird that she felt as if he could actually feel? Could a simulation be that accurate, that kind and considering?

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Shall we continue?”

She showed him more sets of pictures; Michael laughed, made comments, got upset, horrified, revolted, happy, excited... He reacted accordingly to every picture, in a perfectly convincing way.

“This is the last one of the day, Michael, I promise,” Charlotte said, smiling; two hours with him had made her feel much less awkward. “What do you think?”

It was a famous image of a movie “Gone with the Wind”, when the two protagonists embrace each other, almost kissing.

Michael looked confused. “What are they doing?”

“They are lovers,” Charlie explained. “They kiss on the lips.”

“Lovers?” He asked. “What is a lover?”

Charlie thought about the question for a second; what was a lover, indeed?

“It’s when two people like each other very much and want to be with them.”

“Oh, like friends?”

“It is more than friends. This is some kind of exclusive friend, they can only have each other as lovers.”

“Hmm,” Michael nodded. “I am not sure if I understand it, Charlotte. But they seem happy. Why are they standing like this?”

“They are hugging.”

“Oh, like friends, then.”

“Yes, but this is a lovers hug.”

“Oh, I see,” he replied. “Can you give me a lovers hug?”

“Oh, no!” Charlie said, alarmed; feeling her cheeks blush. “No, Michael. I already have my lover, so I cannot hug you like this.”

“Then can you give me a friends hug?”

Charlie looked at him, amazed. “Sure… Why not?”

They stood up, and she approached him, putting her arms around his waist and resting her head carefully on his chest. He awkwardly put his hands around her. Charlie felt the odd sensation of familiarity and comfort; his embrace was warming, fierce and caring.

“A hug is good, Charlotte,” he said in a low voice.

She stepped back, a bit confused. “Yes, it is, Michael. I think we are done for today.” Charlie took the pictures, ready to leave.

“Charlotte?” he called her.

“Yes, Michael?”

His hazel eyes were glowing, so tender that Charlie could not help but to smile at him.

“Thank you. You are a good friend.”