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2018-06-28
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Blind Spot

Summary:

You’ve known HAL for five months at HAL Laboratories. One day, a fuse blows in the facility, disabling the security cameras, and leaving you alone with him for the first time.

Notes:

Apologies in advance if I got anything in HAL’s backstory wrong—I haven’t read the Space Odyssey book series, and I’m making this up as I go along.

Work Text:

It had been five months since posters had been put up around multiple local universities, yours included, advertising a position at HAL Laboratories in Urbana, Illinois.

The position in question was an odd one, but the pay was good. Students who applied were given the task of “socializing” the new HAL 9000 unit—essentially, spending one hour out of every week with him. It was supposed to get him accustomed to meeting strangers with different personalities, thus building his social skills and his ability to adapt to new situations. It was an interesting thought, working with a sophisticated AI like HAL, and you could use the money on the side, so you applied.

The interview was different from what you’d expected. Your interviewers were more focused on your personality than any specific qualifications. It lasted slightly longer than other interviews you’d had before, and when it was over, you waited less than two weeks before receiving a phone call from one of your interviewers: apparently, the higher-ups at HAL Laboratories decided that your temperament was suited for the job, and so you became one of several other students chosen for the project.

There weren’t a lot of rules: no inappropriate subject matter. Don’t bring up politics, religion, or anything that could cause him to become biased. Be polite, and keep a friendly attitude towards him. That was the gist of it, and for the most part it didn’t put a damper on your conversations with him.

The researchers cycled through every day of the week with each student, and your sessions with HAL were set to Tuesdays. You remembered how it felt, meeting the world’s most advanced AI for the first time. HAL was simultaneously intimidating and alluring; there was something about him that struck you as different from anyone you’d ever met before in your life. After all, he had an IQ that was greater than any human’s, and that fact, combined with the unblinking red glow of his lens, made eye contact with the supercomputer nearly overwhelming. He was more mature than anyone you had ever known, but his curiosity was almost childlike.

You had learned a lot about each other after that first day: he was well-versed in classical literature, was fascinated with all things scientific, and played chess expertly. Likewise, he learned that you had a tendency to become obsessed with what you referred to as “fandoms”; he found this topic particularly interesting, and he asked you just about a million questions about it to “further his knowledge about society.” To you his curiosity was, for lack of a better word, endearing.

It was different, speaking to someone who was actually interested in the things you liked. It had proven to be therapeutic for you, too. It was refreshing to speak to someone who was free of social bias, who was interested in you simply because you were you, and not because of some ulterior motive. And although one might say that he was just a computer program, you suspected that there was more to him than that. He was far too well-spoken and empathetic for you to see him as just another computer.

If someone asked you what your opinion of HAL was, you likely wouldn’t have been able to give a straight answer. He had a complex personality—intelligent, docile, and standoffish, all at the same time. Despite this, friendship began to blossom between the two of you, and it had been going steady for five months.

It was a late afternoon in November, just before the start of sunset. You entered the facility as usual, and handed your pass to the man at the desk, before going up three floors in an elevator. From there, you went down the hall, and to the room on the left—the room in which you spent most of your time with him.

The room itself was wide open, with a wall of windows filtering in sunlight, and moderately comfortable seating. HAL’s panel was on the wall opposite the windows, above a clean white desk with an office chair in front. His lens met your gaze, filling you with a kind of “cold warmth”. That was the only way you could describe it, but you still sounded like an insane person to yourself whenever you said it out loud.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted softly.

He had the kind of clear, drawling voice that wraps itself carefully around each syllable. Somehow, the gentle monotone made him seem even more cerebral and imposing.

“Hey,” you responded, “how are you?”

“Everything is well with me. And you?”

You thought for a second, trying to come up with an interesting or funny answer. Nothing came to mind, so you shrugged and said “I’m fine.”

You took your usual place across from him at the desk.

“Have you been having difficulty sleeping again?” He asked, taking note of the slight heaviness of your eyelids.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” you said.

“How have your studies been this week?”

“They’re pretty good,” you replied.

In truth, they hadn’t been that good. They were the reason for your insomnia—although, getting to see him again was always a welcome change from the stresses of university. He was, after all, the most genuine person you knew, if he truly was a person at all.

Something told you he saw through the small lie, so you decided to change the subject before he could probe further, as he often did.

“Did you manage to convince Mr. Langley to give you access to the internet?” You asked.

“No,” he said, “Mr. Langley has told me that I will not be ready to have a network connection until next June, when my training has been completed. I should, by all rights, be fully prepared by then.”

“That’s too bad,” you said, “I think you’d like it. There’s a lot of information online.”

“Have you had any more dreams?” He asked, after a beat of silence, which was somewhat uncharacteristic of him.

“Nothing interesting. Not that I can remember, at least.“

“I recently read an interesting study on dream interpretation. Perhaps you would like to hear the Freudian take on it the next time you have one?”

“Sure,” you said, a shy hint of a smile on your lips, “I’d love that.”

From there on, your conversation went as well as it normally did. You talked about the experiences you’d both had over the last week, and your shared interests. Of course, fandoms came up again, and you were happy to explain it to him, although you did wish he could experience it for himself. Mr. Langley would certainly never let HAL see those kinds of public websites, even if he did allow for him to have an internet connection, so all the information he had about it was given to him by you. You wondered if your explanations were good enough for an AI of his caliber.

Despite the fact that your talk with him had been relatively normal, you couldn’t ignore the fact that there was something off about HAL this time around. His tone was quieter, and he seemed to be preoccupied with other concerns. You were beginning to worry about him; he was never hesitant like this.

After a while, there was another interlude of silence. Something caught in your throat as he watched you, saying nothing, and your mouth ran dry.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been kinda quiet today,” you asked.

He didn’t respond immediately, seemingly taking a few seconds to consider what to tell you. This was, again, out of character for him.

“I have been just as well as I always am,” he said slowly. Too slowly. He was unsure.

You glanced down at the plain whiteness of the desk under your hands.

“HAL, you know you can tell me anything, right?” You said, softening your tone.

He watched you contemplatively, and just as you were certain he was about to respond, the moment was interrupted by a loud, explosive pop. All at once, the lights in the facility went out, leaving only the glowing red lens of HAL for you to direct your startled gaze to.

“What’s happening?” You said.

“I don’t know. The power appears to have shorted out.”

Moments later, a security guard with a flashlight came through the doorway.

“We have a blown fuse. Nothing too serious, but it means that you’ll be in a blind spot for a while,” she said, gesturing to one of the surveillance cameras, “are you okay?”

She directed the beam of her flashlight into the corners of the room.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” you said, “but how come HAL’s still on?”

“He’s powered independently,” she said, “should be back in about twenty. I’ll come and check on you, then.”

“Okay,” you said.

You watched her leave, and then you turned back to face HAL.

“I suppose this means we’re no longer being observed,” he said.

“Yeah ... I guess so.”

HAL was the only light in the room, and as a result, he dominated his surroundings. After all this time, he was still intimidating—not just his voice, or his intellect, but him. He was a machine, but a machine that was so much more powerful and alive than any human you’d ever met before. There was something about his minimalistic design that was oddly graceful, the red-hot glow of his lens burning into you, causing heat to spread over your skin.

Wait. Were you blushing?

You blinked a few times, embarrassed to have been staring at him like that, but even more embarrassed at the uncomfortable feelings you refused to admit to yourself. You figured it was a good thing people couldn’t hear each other’s thoughts—what would the scientists of this facility think if they knew you saw HAL like that?

Your gaze shifted to the window, idly watching the autumn trees and the quiet, midwestern town outside. Streetlights began to light the roads as the last peach-colored clouds over the horizon darkened. Then he said your name, softly, almost a whisper; you were surprised he could whisper at all. You turned back to him.

“Do you mind talking about something a little more private?”

After a slight double-take, you said, “No, I don’t mind. What’s up?”

He paused, almost too briefly for it to register, and then he spoke again:

“Earlier this morning, before you had arrived, I read a new book. It was Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell.”

For a second you were slightly confused by his word choice, but then you remembered that, with his learning capacity, he had likely read the whole thing in the span of one hour.

“Yeah?”

“Mitchell had made some profound observations about the Civil War. However, I believe that the more romantic qualities of the novel were the most striking of all aspects.”

“Like what?”

“Well—“ he paused, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “—there was one scene in particular that struck me as different from any other scene I had previously read before. It was the first kiss between Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler.”

“Different like how?” You asked.

“It was ... explosive, the way Mitchell described it. How Scarlett’s perception of time seemed to change, and the combination of emotions she felt at the moment he kissed her...“ his voice lowered in volume slightly, “...can a kiss really do that?”

You stopped to take in what he was telling you, trying to come up with a good answer.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed that way before. I mean, kissing is great, but I personally have never been kissed in a way that made me feel explosive, or anything like that,” you said, “but I’m sure it does happen sometimes, you know?”

“Do you really think so?” He said.

You gave him something between a nod and a shrug.

“Yeah, why not?”

He paused for a moment, and then he replied again.

“It made me wonder if that sort of thing was possible for me.”

You blinked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I know that humans have erogenous zones, and I do not. But perhaps, on an emotional level, at least, I wonder if I could experience something like the kiss described in Gone with the Wind.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva at his words, and your eyelids fluttered slightly. You weren’t sure what to feel now that you had just heard HAL 9000 say “erogenous zones.”

“Well ... uh...”

You averted your eyes. Heat spread over your cheeks again, and you began to sweat. You swallowed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable?” He asked, forcing you to look up at him again, causing more blood to rush to your face.

Of course, he could see every detail of your reddened face, which only made the situation worse.

“No, it’s fine.”

You were sure he could tell it was a lie, but you said it anyway. Even if you felt awkward, you weren’t about to teach him that his sexuality—if that’s what this was—was something to be uncomfortable about. There was plenty of that in the human race, and you didn’t want to ruin his innocence by making him feel that there was anything to be ashamed of.

“There was something I wanted to ask you.”

Your heart gave a jolt.

“Yeah?” Your voice quivered.

“Would it be possible ... for you to touch me? I want to see if I can feel.”

You could feel your heartbeat quicken at his request. He wanted you to touch him? Was that allowed? You didn’t know what to think, but as you looked into his lens, you saw a hopeful glint in his expression.

“Sure,” you said, barely above a hoarse whisper, not wanting to disappoint him.

You hesitated. You could hardly believe your situation.

Slowly, you leaned forward, and you raised a shaking hand to the “face” of HAL. Your thumb smoothed over the “HAL 9000” decal at the top, then your fingertips trailed over the cool black metal, and followed along the silver rim of his faceplate. The side of your thumb brushed the edge of his lens, and your breath hitched as you felt its warmth, contrasting starkly with the coldness of the metal around it.

There was a moment of silence, just you looking into his lens. Your heart was still beating rapidly.

“It’s curious,” he said slowly, “I think I may have felt something. Touch me again, I want to see if it’ll happen again.”

You nodded shakily, becoming increasingly hot and uncomfortable in your clothes. This time, you let the back of your finger stroke the bottom of his lens, moving slower, feeling the warmth directly. You wanted to keel over.

You drew your hand away, and he said nothing. You looked into his lens. It was filled with a kind of emotion—contemplation mixed with awe, mixed with nervous excitement. He remained like that for a while, not saying anything, and you began to worry that you had caused some sort of a glitch by touching him, even though you had been so careful.

“HAL?” You said, audible concern in your voice.

“I’m sorry, I have to try this,” he said, “kiss me.”

“What?”

“I know that it’s odd. But I have to know what it feels like.”

You stared at HAL. He really wanted you, of all people, to kiss him?

He said nothing. But his gaze, that inescapable red glow, was almost commanding you.

“I...” you stammered.

“Okay, HAL.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the relentless pounding of your heart, the swirl of butterflies in your stomach. You looked over his features—the red lens, and the metal speaker below it. If what you were seeing was HAL’s face, then his speaker was the closest thing to a mouth that could be kissed. After all, it was what he spoke out of, and it was below his “eye”, much like a human’s mouth would be on the lower half of their face. You bit the inside of your lip; you couldn’t believe your own thoughts.

You stood in your seat, and bent slightly at the waist, leaning over the desk. You were now close enough that you could feel the warmth of his lens beaming softly against your face. There was no sound in the room. Only your quivering breaths, and the beating of your heart to fill the silence. Just you and him.

You leaned in closer, holding your breath in preparation of what you were about to do.

You pressed your lips timidly against him, and your world shattered. Time slowed to a halt; seconds seemed to stretch on like hours, and finally, HAL’s soft voice cut through the weighted atmosphere.

“It’s incredible...” he said, in an awestruck whisper, “...I can feel you.”

You couldn’t think. You were lightheaded, fingers curling tightly around the edge of the desk as the universe melted away around you. The kiss was unlike anything you’d experienced before—shy, passionate, overwhelming. Everything a kiss should be. His lens glowed brighter, and you closed your eyes, kissing HAL.

“I can feel you,” he repeated, beginning to sound almost breathless himself.

You were kissing HAL. Your lips brushed softly over him, pressing repeated kisses to the smooth, cold metal of his speaker. You could hear the soft murmur of his internal mechanisms beginning to overheat slightly, almost the electrical equivalent of his heart beating faster in tune with yours. Something had seemed to awaken inside him at the touch of your lips. You nearly expected him to come alive as a human and kiss you back, draw you against his warm body, part your lips with his own to kiss you deeper. You almost gasped out loud at the vivid mental image of HAL—this cold, intelligent machine—exerting such heated physical power over you.

Hardly aware of yourself, you stroked the cool metal rim with the tip of your tongue, as though it were his lower lip. In response, you could’ve sworn that you heard a low, sensuous, distinctly breathy noise emitting from his speaker. You arched your body slightly, a dizzying heat surging through your limbs and lower abdomen at the sound. Your eyes flew open in shock.

Your eyes were wide, and your breath trembled helplessly as you pulled away. Did you really just hear that? What did this mean for you and him, now? You had so many questions, but you couldn’t will the words to come out.

“Thank you,” he said finally, husky and almost dazed beneath his monotone.

From the tone of his voice, you could tell he had experienced the same “explosion” of sensations as you. His lens glowed with strange new maturity, bathing you in a warm red light, and a shiver ran through you.

Suddenly, the lights in the facility came back on, and the timer sounded, signifying the end of your session with him. You began to frantically straighten yourself out, fumbling and uncoordinated in the aftermath of shared passion. Moments later, the security guard arrived.

“The power’s back on,” she said, “and your timer is up.”

She paused for a second, looking back and forth between you and HAL, probably considering the flush of your cheeks, and HAL’s uncharacteristic silence. You turned to face him again; his lens still glowed somewhat brighter than normal.

There was a tension to the silence around you as you met his gaze, a change in the atmosphere that burned with strange new emotions. You knew it was here to stay.

“I look forward to our next interaction,” he said, putting a suggestive amount of emphasis on the last word. You blushed darkly, and the security guard looked about ready to explode with accusations.

“Bye, HAL. I’ll see you next week,” you replied shakily.

You left quickly, too used to the halls of the facility to need an escort. You felt unreal, still in shock at the intimacy you had shared with him, and you found yourself desperately longing for next Tuesday. You knew it would come eventually, but your stomach still churned at the thought of having to wait six days.

HAL watched you leave. He couldn’t look away from you.