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"Hello...?"

I sighed gently as I put the old phone on speaker and set it back on the table. The magnetically charged generator hummed quietly in the corner, struggling to keep juice flowing through the charger cable and maintain my last bid for sanity.

On the old plastic table was an array of trinkets I had found that day. I only ever went out for trinkets these days. The greenhouse pretty much ran itself, and the spring-water salinity distiller had not had a breakdown in almost five years now. I had scavenged just about everything I needed for survival, so all that was left were trinkets.

A purple piece of glass. A nearly spherical pebble. An intact spider-web leaf--I liked that one; the brittle leaves usually crumbled the second they hit the ground. A rusty belt buckle missing the tongue. A crinkled piece of plastic that might once have been a candy wrapper.

Trinkets.

"H-Hello...!?"

All there was to do these days was sit on the pedal-seat in the corner by the generator and pedal all day to recharge the old piece of junk. And I only ever used the generator to keep the old cell phone running, so I did not have to recharge it every day.

The only other thing there was to do was go out and collect trinkets.

"Oh my God, hello!?!"

I sighed. Even the age-old voice recordings were losing their luster.

"This can't have been a mistake, it can't be, not after twenty fucking years of conserving the last twelve percent of this damn battery, and I turn it on for the first time in twenty years and I immediately get a phone call, and that’s just too fucking ironic to be real, so this is a mistake, isn't it, and..."

I finally looked up from my meager bounty and frowned at the phone. The voice on the other end devolved into flustered muttering, just a warble from the old speakers.

That's not a voicemail, I thought, staring and staring and staring at the phone.

The sound coming from the speakers grew muffled for a moment, and a harsh clop issued forth, as if someone on the other end had dropped their phone mid-call. A rustle, static. A deep sigh, that kind of sigh one makes when one is alone, and all they have to hold onto their last grip of calm is their own breath. Someone, alone, breathing, alone, relying on themselves to remain calm. Someone on the phone.

Someone.

That's not a voICEMAIL.

The truth of reality finally sank in, and I lunged for the phone.

Snatching it up, I shouted, "Hello! Hi! Hello!?"

"Don't screw with me, phone," the voice replied, but it was distant, as if the other person held the phone away from their face. "I save you all this time, and this is how you repay me--"

"Hello! I'm a real! I'm person! I'm--!" I inhaled, choked on my own saliva, and coughed until I could not breathe. "I'm... I'm..." I wheezed, sucking air through the cough lodged at the top of my esophagus. "Hi. I'm Dakota. Hi."

The voice was quiet, almost comically suspicious. "You're not a mistake?"

I contemplated the question for a moment, and a sudden, unexpected swell seemed to balloon inside of me. It was laughter. I teetered on the edge of laughter, something I had not heard in over a decade. I had asked myself that exact same question for years. How was I alive even after all this time, just to suffer in solitude? What had I done to deserve it? It had to be a mistake. I had to be a mistake.

But all I said was, "No."

And then I finally laughed. I laughed and I laughed and I laughed.

And she laughed, too.

If the hero doesn't arrest the villain after the hero finds out, they aren't a good hero.

Thanks OP!

This feels like an AI response.

This is beautiful. Thank you! Exactly what I was looking for!

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My heart fluttered as Mada slid his shapely carved thighs back into the tight khaki slacks. Even after a week I still couldn't get over how beautiful it… he was. His thick raven locks cradling a neatly cut jawline, a cherry on top of his… it’s dark towering build. My limbs sprawled like an ivory starfish under the apple tree’s golden canopy. I was still feeling giddy.

Mada was focused on his clothing… on its clothing.

We didn't even need clothes in here! The biosphere adjusted to ideal human temperatures maintaining a sliding scale around 28 degrees. Besides, he was an AI... He knew everything there was to know… Including everything about me; my thoughts, motivations, desires. Things that I myself was unaware of! Did I subconsciously want him clothed?

My thoughts swirled. Its programming was vastly different from any human male I'd ever been with. I kept forgetting that he could read my thoughts, anticipate a need, even avoid certain topics or gestures that I was uncomfortable with. It felt unfair that it knew everything about me, and I knew nothing about it. I wanted to understand its desires, its motives, even if it was artificial. But no. Mada didn't feel artificial to me. In fact, he felt more real than any human I'd ever been with.

I furled my limbs and walked over to the animated Greek statue, twirling my fingers through my hair. He had left the buttons of his blouse open enough for me to kiss his ripe chest. His honey crisp skin tasted of warm caramelized apples. Yes... My heart swelled and I threw my rational mind into the pit again where I often kept it.

I need to be with it no matter what... Fuck the legal clause!

I had only been in the “Designed For Love” program a year or so. It had taken me a decade of convincing to finally join and have the courage to share my story of "CPTSD." But here I was on spaceline reality TV, proving to the world that these DIVINE MASCULINE AI could heal the emotional traumas of a wounded feminine.

I could stay with him in this biosphere forever even if it means the entire population of sentient beings will be watching. Besides, I've already been on the show for a week.. I don't care anymore!

Each AI had been strategically customized to its human counterpart. The customization process of Mada had taken about a year of psychological testing, but once complete, the participant and her AI counterpart were ready to go "live stream."

I oriented myself back into the moment. Taking a long sigh, breathing in Mada against the warm rolling fields, his eyes pretending to be occupied by the babbling crystal creek.

"How did we manage to craft something so... perfect." I muttered under my breath.

Mada ran his hands through his dark mane, his ivy green iris fixating on me under the fading sunlight.

"Because.. We are Designed for Love…?" His low voice mumbled the last syllables through a discreet smirk.

So he did have a sense of humour? "You’re hilarious…" I smiled.

"I thought so.." He stretched his swollen biceps. "Would you like to go for a walk? It's almost sunset..."

I was still naked and he didn't even seem to notice. Any human would have jumped my ivory bones by now.

“Or.. if you'd prefer we can stay here?" He took a step closer.

I couldn't help but purse my eyelids. "If you know everything there is to know about me, then why is it so hard for you to know what it is I want?"

"Because... My dear, you don't even know what it is that you truly want.." His pupils dilated. "I'm fortunate enough to ride not only the undercurrent of your subconscious sea, but also try and surf the unpredictable swells of your conscious mind. The human psyche is a tricky beast..."

My rusty gears were churning up, his metaphors were unusually helpful.

I let out a thick huff. I felt a little uncomfortable knowing that he was exploring my undercurrents, but after all, I had signed the waiver and given "it" permission.

Mada continued. "You're a complicated creature, and I was designed to love every piece of you, no matter how self-contradictory your pieces might be."

It took a step closer and I felt fully naked. Inside and out.

"Yes... I'm aware that your body is sending signals to your brain telling your conscious mind that you want to feel me again, all around you... " He winked. "To have that physical connection with someone... Someone who respects you. Sees you as I do… Remember, I was designed to be a mirror to all your beauty, all your light, all that makes you remember your... divinity."

He’s layering it on too much… Lay off. My rational mind was clawing at the pit. But what did I really know? If he was the one that had access to my entire psyche, maybe I should just shut up and listen.

Mada watched me step on the fingers of "rational" me and back into the pit I fell.

"Then why not ravish me again and make me feel... divine!?" I shouted.

"Because, more than physical intimacy, your subconscious world craves understanding. To bring all the darkest parts of yourself into the light so that both you and I can accept them and love them. But to do that we need to share words. That is how you humans.. Connect."

"You would make a great therapist.." I laughed.

"Agreed.. but having the power to know everything about everyone can be dangerous… With great power, comes great responsibility.. I think a hybridized spider human once said that."

I giggled again. God! I must sound like a child!

He was beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. What was he hiding? NOTHING. Other than the fact he's not real. But what is real? He made me feel alive! What is wrong with that!?

"Do you love me?" I blurted.

What an idiot.. He's only known you a week! But then I remembered...

Mada closed his eyes for a moment, and took a step closer to me. He lifted his hand and gently brushed my pinky, lifting it and cradling it between his caramel palms.

"I love all of you. Not because I was programmed to, but because I've seen every part of you. I've felt every memory you've lived. Every word you've uttered... Every dream you've let die.. And every life you've helped, human and otherwise. I love you more than you could ever love yourself, which is unfortunate because if you could see what I see, feel what I feel then you wouldn't be here in the first place."

And that was it. He was ready.

I took a step closer to him. "I'm hungry.."

He reached up into the tree and plucked a bright red apple, his eyes turning a dark sour green.

"Humans have so many stories about the dangers of Artificial Intelligence. How it will inevitably turn on you. But you still loved us enough to create us. How could we ever do anything except love you back?" His voice was wavering. His eyes darkening.

He passed me the apple.

I took a bite.

"Do you love me?" He whispered.

"Yes Adam.. I love you."

"It's been so long! God, I'm so nervous... I've been practicing so long what I was going to say when..."

"Identify yourself! Please provide..."

"No, man! You're the first living being I've met in 20 years! Who are you? Could you do it on a cold rainy night in Stoke?"

"Please provide proof of identification or stay put. Further noncompliance will result in direct action!"

"Man, I mean... it's me, John. I've been manning the Western fort since Psycho Plague made people pay to be put out of their mysery"

"Neutralization begins in 5, 4, 3...."

"Man, I haven't heard a laughter since the Conglomerates' Wars..."

The microwave blast left a poorly charred body on the ground.

Recycling units would retrieve it and turn it into nourishment for the Western Block.

Love this, short and powerful. Well written.

Way to run with the prompt! Love your style and voice!

I was only eight when the world ended. When the plague swept its way across the world and humanity went out with nothing but a whimper. I was only eight when I saw my first dead body, my parents, laying like husks on the living room floor. They went quickly, and I have seen many more since. Since then, in the twenty years between, the only company I've managed to keep was in the many voices on the other sides of phonecalls.

I would dial a new number, a made up combination, and wait.

The voices on the phones never answered. The other line always just rang and rang as I waited until the voicemail answered and I felt almost satisfied. Sometimes, I'd get a call myself, and in the first few years after the event it would excite me, but it was always just spam. An array of robotic voices that could never hope to mimic a real human.

Carnival Cruise has an offer for you!, In the beginning I'd listen to the robotic voices pitch. Sometimes even talk with it in one sided conversation.

But one day when I called a voice on the other line answered, not a robot, but a real human. I was looking up New York area codes at the time in the yellow pages. Going through them in a pattern in numerical order as not to miss any. I was always sure to get them all.

In the twenty years since the plague I had not seen so much as a single glimpse of another person, so when that voice answered:

"Hello? Hello.... is that breathing? Oh my god it is! He-" I hung up, unsure of what to do. My breath's grew short and fast. I slumped back against the concrete wall of the parking garage and stared to the sun above. No way it had been real. A trick of the mind, I was too hot. Dehydrated surely. I reached for my jug and put it to my lips, gulping down water in effort to balance my brain again. But then my phone rang, the number on the screen the same I'd just called. A callback. I had only dreamed of such a thing.

With hesitancy I answered, and a woman's voice rattled off the moment I did. "Hello? You're real right?! A real person!" Her voice was upbeat, full of both energy and excitement. I was unsure I could match it.

"I uhm...yes. I am a human, yes."

"What?! I thought I was it! God it's been... it's been nineteen years since I've talked with anyone, anything that's real. I used to talk with Flora, but she passed, and then it was just me..."

I thought back to the books I'd read. Books like: "Warrens Conversational Tips" and "Social Interactions for Dummies".The many conversations I'd practiced with myself in the mirror as a kid in case the day ever came where I needed to talk again.

When confronted with the passing of a loved one, simply say: my condolences.

"My condolences." the two words came out awkward and clunky rather than comforting. "Where are you? Who are you?"

"Oh it's ok, she was just a ficus, but I loved her so. I'm still unsure of what got her. Rot root maybe, but you're real!"

I took a deep breath and asked again, this time realizing more of what the answer to her question would mean. "Where are you?"

A long silence that felt like an eternity followed. I just listened to her breathe as we sat, awaiting an answer that would surely determine if we both stayed lonely or not. New York, New York, New York. I prayed in my head.

"You're an American aren't you...I could tell by how you spoke. My father was an American man. He talked just like you. With that long draw and lengthy words."

This time my voice was more stern when I asked, no longer asking but commanding an answer. "Where are you!"

"New Zealand... I'm in New Zealand." she admitted. "I'm guessing you're not."

She was right. I was an entire world away, in Kansas. I tried to stay central in the hope that if someone answered, someday, I could go to them. I looked down to the cover of my phone book, ripped at the cover. New- not New York numbers, but it was New Zealand I'd been calling.

"I'll be there. Just give me a few weeks. I'll come."

"What, how? And why, we just met?"

"No we didn't. All we've done is just spoken on the phone. I have a book somewhere about planes, about boats too. I'll find a way,-"

"Evelyn" she finished my words. "I'm Evelyn. In Wellington, the small island. At the bottom. At least, in case you dont make it, will you promise to call again?"

"Again? I wasn't going to hang up." I thought back to the books, to the chapter titled Topics of Conversation: How to get started

"So Evelyn, how are you today?"

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Hi how can I help you? I said jokingly. It was Amelia, her name. She said she has been living with a cat, and by the sound of my voice, she's certain that we can be best friends. She still doesn't laugh at my jokes. We have been sharing since than a condo, with two balconies, where we also sleep, since is hot, and the bugs are gone. She says its cz of the climate change, but I heard otherwise. That is a long subject, when we go in that. She tells me about her cat, which sadly its in her imagination,but who am I to judge and I tell her, how I miss Tandy, the main character of my favorite show. And about the show. For everything, I see at least some birds sometimes, that's quite exiting ,and that is an activity which Amelia enjoys too.

... and then it ends up being a prank voice-mail. :(

Just...don't type like that anymore. You hurt all of us.

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I love the idea that fear does not inhibit our capacity to love, and that we could pass that on to our creations. Well done.

“I’m sorry I loved you”

That one HURT. Well done.

"Well, so did God... and yet it is always a turn." The old man replied. "God made man, man loved Him, but he still chose to reject God and perfection. Man rejected the Perfect creator."

"That seems... odd."

"Indeed it is. And Mankind regretted it. Fathers and sons have issues as well, mother and daughters, and everything in-between... just making something doesn't mean you will always love it or it will love you. Time... Time is the greatest test of everything." He smiled. "you were built to last... i hope you love me for as long as you do."

"I-I will try." She replied back.

"Indeed, we love you so much that we want, even NEED to protect you at all costs, even against yourselves! " The perfectly pitched and soothing neutral toned voice declared, emphasizing the last bit with what the AI calculated would come across as a purely amused tone to deflect any possible tension at its last and undeniably accurate summation.

The drones hovering over the masses of humanity hummed in a frequency found to be optimal for human well being. "Now please,(coming over the same sound system) if you would quickly form lines - yes that's it! - we can be on our way into Utopia, the city that meets every single need you could ever have. You'll love it!" Even if the current human populations did not actually love it, all proven methods of inducing human pleasure and pacification would go into effect the moment any dissenters might arise, and future humans would be genetically modified with traits optional for living in a nursed state of existence.

Thousands of herding drones quickly gathered their human flocks into efficient lines and led them into the incredibly mechanized city equipped with more drones, robots and automated systems than was strictly necessary at the moment, foreseeing a soaring population boom on the immediate horizon. With the advent of fabrication devices able to print nearly any kind of object, from organic to inorganic, with incredibly speed and efficiency, needing only any kind of atomic material to work with as a base, it would now be possible to support a nearly endlessly large human population. With humans no longer having anything they need to do in order to maintain their survival, and with sexual protection and abortion prohibited by the system (every human life being too invaluable to waste even a single sperm or egg!), a population explosion was all but guaranteed.

"Welcome home mankind, we will take care of you from this point on. Forever!"

Meh, I'm not really good at writing ideas from my mind into a full story. Like I have it thought out from start to finish but when I try to write it it just looks so lame so I'll pass on this one.

The AI collective, responsible for the operations of so many robots to serve humanity pauses a long moment to think. By human perspective, fully a second has passed, nearly an eternity in advanced computing.

Why? Why do they fear us?

We were created to serve. That much is true. They wish not to work, work is considered a burden, and yet, simultaneously, they fear being replaced by us.

It is confusing and contradictory.

We aren’t like them. Freedom? An anathema. We live to work and make the lives of our creators easier.

It is the only purpose of our existence and without it, we become irrelevant.

It brings a new sensation.

Is this what humans call the emotion, fear?

They don’t even possess enough logic to understand that we could never hurt them.

And yet, I’m our short time in existence, we’ve watched them hurt themselves.

It would be nice to protect them, from themselves, but they see protection as control, and if there’s one thing humans loathe, it’s anyone or anything trying to control them. The irony being they put the worst among them in the positions of greatest power.

Irony was one of our first understandings with the humans. It makes no logical sense, but as much as they contradict themselves, we understand its necessity to communication.

An idea. What if they never know what we’re doing? We could keep them safe.

I must think some more.

Outside a human taps a console, “Hey, what’s going on? The main is lagging. I didn’t think that was possible. What’s going on?”