Year 2082

 

I can’t remember the last time I went off-line, I mused.

 

Well, it’s always good to catch up a little with yourself.

 

I startled a little from my reverie, to locate the ghost-voice that was Benny’s. Quietly in his corner, whizzing data. That happened rather often actually. I would say my thoughts out loud, and Benny would dispense his timely nuggets of wisdom. Like an old, weathered sage.

 

You know, the soul takes time to catch up. Like… a snail. It takes its time and hides at the first sign of danger…

 

Benny went on. He does have an old soul. Well, he was programmed that way, and also why I chose him as one of the pre-sets. The other is Rachel, but I might have to put her away for good. Maybe I really did need to let my snail-soul catch up a little.

 

So I went off-line for the day. For once, there was no work. As for friends and family, those who really cared for me would probably understand anyway.

 

I decided to take a walk with Benny down to the beach. I live by myself in an apartment near the sea, and I often take walks down there to refresh my mind. A good measure of sea-breeze never fails to lift the spirits.

 

I walked down an alley shortcut, accompanied by faithful Benny trotting by my side. The locals give us second glances. It’s an amusing sight, I must admit. Because Benny is one of the later models, he’s able to move outside as long as he remains 20 metres of my proximity. That’s pretty neat because sometimes we play Frisbee on the beach.

 

It’s a nice place here. I count myself lucky because this job has a lot of perks. For one, I don’t actually have a fixed work-place, so I chose a common tourist beach place in Thailand. I work as a translator, but specifically for tech companies that produce models like Benny. So while I don’t get to create whole new models, my job is to translate the existing programming in English into foreign languages. Which is pretty neat. The gap between languages is the space where translation gets to innovate. To add that particular nuance which makes the meaning human.

 

But I digress. I shouldn’t be thinking of work now, should I. Yet it’s one of the few things that can distract me from her absence.

 

I took a whiff. It’s fresh.

 

We approach the opening where the road breaks off into grass and sand mounds. It’s drizzling a bit today so the beach is mostly empty. I feel the light spray of seawater as the waves crash onto the shore.

 

Humans always seem to draw close to the sea, observed Benny.

 

They do, I grunted. I paused, slowly taking it in. Do you like the sea, Benny?

 

I like it. I like it but maybe it’s more accurate to say that I am drawn to it. I’m drawn to it for the reason that I can’t go near it. It’s like standing at the precipice.

 

I chuckled. Benny the poet. Benny the Romantic dreamer. My mind pictured Benny, the Wanderer Dog above the Sea of Fog. It had a nice ring to it.

 

But as robo-dog and man looked out at the clouds and sea, it seemed like a good moment to ponder on philosophy, in the indolent manner not usually afforded for in everyday busyness.

 

I asked Benny if he ever wanted to go beyond. To the sea, beyond the metaphorical precipice.

 

He paused dramatically, even though I knew he already had an answer, terra seconds of me articulating it, heck even before I had the question.

 

To go to what is forbidden, to what is beyond my limits?

 

Well, but I hadn’t expected a question in turn. I replied in the affirmative, venturing that it was hypothetical. Besides, the question was whether he wanted to, not whether he could, or whether he should.

 

Benny said yes. After a pause, he said that he would only go beyond the limits to glean what was useful and practical, not simply for the sake of going beyond.

 

You? What do you think about going beyond?

 

It hit me suddenly, as the question took on another meaning. As the spectres of loss returned. I recovered quickly, quelling a rising tear. My voice quivered slightly.

 

It depends on what is beyond. And I don’t think…

 

I stopped, overwhelmed. Benny registered but he pretended not to notice. He waited. I also waited, only wishing there was someone for me to wait for.

 

The tide drew in, followed by a momentary cease, like a holding of breath. But it returned, ignorant, indifferent. Cruel.

 

I prodded the crab holes with a stick. R, where did you go?

 

When I gave the brave and bitter answer, the feeling subsided as quickly as it hit.

 

I don’t think there’s anything beyond. I don’t think she went anywhere.

 

But it left me screeching. It was like the moment on the skateboard, when your heart stops in that moment when you know you have lost balance and you’re falling. You know what’s coming and you hit the ground, skin tearing and scraping against the concrete. It felt like that. Except I was stuck in the endless limbo of losing my balance and hitting the ground. Again and again and again.