Diana alive again… It seemed impossible.
All my research on human personality and the inner workings of the mind was merely speculative until now—until I saw the automaton before me overwhelming my senses with her presence.
I had no idea how the program would work—how she would spontaneously respond. I factored in randomness to approximate human freedom.
And so I was incredibly shocked when she spontaneously spoke.
“George?” she whispered. “Where am I?”
All thought of her being a machine vanished in that instant.
“You’re here, Darling, with me.”
She had that little-girl-lost look that always melted my heart. Impulsively, I rushed to her and took her in my arms.
Every organ of the body, they say, retains memory, but now, I knew that to be true.
My arms ached for her as only arms remembered—she fit right beneath my shoulder—as comfortably as my guitar.
My eyes filled with tears and my throat constricted. My whole body sobbed with mingled sorrow, joy and relief.
“It’s you,” I whispered. “It’s really you.”
“Of course, it is, Love—who else could it be?”
“Nobody,” I laughed deliriously, “nobody at all.”
We spent the night curled up by the fire reminiscing and cuddling close. The rain pattered against the windowpane and the fire sizzled in the grate.
We drank wine and I didn’t even think to find it marvellous how Karol had engineered her digestive tract. I kissed her lips and found the same soft press of her skin.
By the end of the evening, she was back, and all thought of her being an automaton disappeared from my mind.
And so we spent the rest of the night, sheets twisted and wrapped in each other’s arms.
The next day, Karol worked up his courage and came to breakfast. Within an hour, he too fell under her spell and was joking and laughing with her the way he always did.
When he left, he hugged her, and then, instead of grabbing my hand, as was his custom, he enfolded me in a great bear hug.
“It’s so good to see the two of you happy,” he said, eyes shining with joy.
It’s been two years now.
Diana and I had to move away, of course—it would have been impossible to explain her to our parents and friends.
I’m sure Karol and I could have won the Nobel Prize for Science, but we both decided the greater triumph was to enjoy the gift of her.
We pushed aside ambition and Karol began building a commercial automaton—a more generic version for the mass market—an English butler named Charles.
The world’s not ready for mind clones yet, but there’s always a need for good help.
We love each other, Diana and I—we’re soul mates in a way words could never express.
I was thinking about this just the other day, when she suddenly burst into the room, face glowing.
“Wonderful news, George! I’m pregnant.”
