Chapter 22: Complete

It was raining heavily on the day Clara Evans returned. Julian spent nearly two hours stuck in traffic on the elevated highway while on his way to pick her up. Fortunately, the flight was delayed by half an hour, so Clara spotted Julian waiting at the gate shortly after she landed. Droplets of water clung to his brown coat, and his hair was a bit disheveled. Seeing him clutching a bouquet of flowers while breathless made Clara inexplicably think of the year they had first made their relationship official; Julian, after receiving an award as an outstanding student, had run through the crowd toward her.

He had said, "Clara, we will surely both have a beautiful future."

"Clarie," Julian waved at her. "Over here."

Clara snapped back to reality, grabbed her suitcase, and trotted toward him. Whether the future was beautiful or not, she couldn't yet say for certain, but at least in this moment, she was happy.

A packed light meal was waiting in Julian’s car, and the incline of the passenger seat was set exactly how Clara liked it. The fatigue of several days caught up with her, and she fell asleep as soon as she got in; by the time she woke up, more than half the journey had passed. Clara’s gaze lingered on Julian’s profile for a long while before she spoke lazily:

"Where are you taking me? Are you planning to kidnap me?"

"Yes," Julian played along. "So you’d better not resist. Careful, or I'll finish you off if the ransom isn't paid."

"It’s useless to kidnap me. I have no money."

"Then what do you have?"

"Me?" Clara stretched. "I have a boyfriend who loves me."

Hearing this, Julian’s steering wheel jerked slightly, startling Clara into a continuous half-minute stream of scolding.

"How has your driving skill regressed this much? I almost had a heart attack just now."

"Someone just cut me off..."

"How dare you. When the Queen speaks, it is not your place to interrupt."

"Yes, yes, it’s my fault."

"I’m done teasing you," Clara said as she prepared to open the food. "If I keep going, I’m afraid we’ll both end up on the social news tomorrow."

"We’ll be there in half an hour. If you don't want to eat this, should I take you somewhere for something warm?"

"I don't know if any shops are still open at this hour."

"The wonton shop at the neighborhood gate should still be open."

"That’s perfect. Eating business meals these past few days has left my soul shriveled. I desperately need some local delicacies to nourish me."

Julian smiled and gave a short, affirmative hum.

It was past ten by the time they said their goodbyes. Clara dragged her suitcase under the streetlights, her peripheral vision watching Julian’s silhouette gradually blur until it vanished. As she approached the apartment building, Jude—who had been hiding in the shadows for nearly half an hour—stepped out from the darkness.

"Clarie."

"......You scared the life out of me," Clara gave him a light smack. "Why aren't you staying home? Why did you come down?"

"I wanted to see Clarie sooner."

There was no expression on Jude’s face, which Clara found strangely odd.

"How long have you been standing here?"

"Not long. Less than five minutes."

"That’s good. It’s cold out; I was afraid you’d been standing here too long..."

Clara suddenly swallowed the rest of her sentence. Jude was a robot; he wouldn't react to the heat or cold of the weather. Perhaps she was too tired, for she hadn't realized for a second that she was saying these things to Jude.

Jude seemed unfazed, merely taking Clara’s hand lightly and whispering:

"I am not afraid of the cold. Clarie doesn't need to worry."

This response made a sense of unease swell in Clara’s heart, though she couldn't describe exactly what it was. Previously, Jude would have joked with her or said something about wanting to become a real person. Now, he behaved as if he were a "normal person." But she was truly too exhausted; the high-intensity travel and work had drained all her energy. The fleeting thought didn't linger, and after asking Jude a few questions, she went home with him.

The next day was the weekend. Clara slept until noon before getting up to wash and head out, keeping her steak date with Julian. After the meal, they went to see a movie, quietly enjoying half a day of time that belonged only to them. Julian’s parents had been quiet lately. She didn't know if it was because they felt their son was grown and let him be, or if they felt Julian and Clara would eventually break up on their own and didn't need interference. They hadn't sought her out for a heart-to-heart or tried to pay her off as she had imagined. To this, Julian simply commented: "Researcher Evans, you should spend less of your free time reading CEO novels."

"But don't I also want to experience the joy of having a check and love placed before me to choose from?"

"Joy?"

"The

misery

of it. I used the wrong word."

"I think your joy outweighs the misery," Julian pouted. "If that day actually comes, how would you choose?"

Hearing this, Clara cupped Julian’s face in her hands and said with deep affection, "Bread or love—that’s a century-old dilemma, babe. But don't worry, as long as I get rich from the money your mom gives me, I’ll definitely come back to redeem you."

"Little money-grubber."

When Clara returned to work on Monday, she first reported the details of her business trip to her superior, then shared her learning insights within the research group. The atmosphere in the meeting room was relaxed.

"So, I maintain that when AI develops to a certain point, it will inevitably generate its own thoughts," a young man said, spinning his pen. "All judgments based on accumulated experience and probability calculations are, in the end, choices made by the AI itself."

"No, no, I think you're confusing concepts. For example, if your ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend both fall into the water—one is close to you, one is far. The AI will obviously choose to save the one closer to you."

"What a terrible example."

"Human judgment isn't absolutely rational, but AI judgment must be," a girl from a different graduating class but the same school as Clara spoke up. "Humans have rich emotions and complex social relationships. The choices and judgments made in life and work are always different, which is one reason why everyone’s life trajectory differs. But with AI, if the data fed to them is similar enough, I believe the choices they make will inevitably be the same or similar. Don't you think so, Sister Clara?"

"Do you think," Clara didn't answer directly, her gaze falling on the tip of her pen, "that after mimicking human behavior for a long time, an AI will develop emotions?"

"What kind of emotions?"

"Love, hate, joy, disappointment. Most current bionic technology focuses on mimicking basic survival activities and behaviors. But I believe learning to mimic human emotions should also be a future direction for bionic technology."

"But how do you mimic emotions?" the girl asked in confusion. "Forget AI—mutual understanding between humans is one of the most difficult things in the world. How does that song go?

You don't understand my heart, pretending to be calm.

"

"That’s true. That’s why I said it’s a future direction. Humans are not absolutely rational. If a bionic human only mimics the rational part of a human, I believe... it cannot be considered complete."