What is love?

I had just received a call on the secure phone line from the CIA. They warned me about Tokyo’s fast reactions, following the escalation of conflicts between the United States and Japan an hour earlier.

“Your facial expression displays shock and concern after the call,” Suki said to me.

Normally I would have felt a sense of satisfaction that her emotion detector was working soundly, but at that moment it seemed slightly prying.

“Yes, the situation is rather unfavourable for us right now. I am waiting for further updates.” I was not confident about how to deliver this news to her.

“What is this unfavourable situation?” she asked.

“The diplomatic relations between Japan and the States have soured after what happened in South Korea an hour ago. I have been briefed that Tokyo wants to take control of this project immediately. They are demanding to take you and the source code away.”

I stared at her dispassionate brown eyes, not entirely sure what she was processing.

“I am waiting for an update from the CIA on how we can get you out of Tokyo unharmed.”

“What about you then?” she countered.

“It is more important that we protect you. Do not worry about me, Suki. I can figure it out. Just do not worry.” I answered with a brief hesitation because, honestly, I was not entirely confident. Even after all the military training, I was just a data scientist.

“You are lying again,” she said.

Under normal circumstances I would have felt proud of her accurate prediction, yet this time I minded that I had to tell her the truth.

“Fine, I was lying. I am not entirely sure what to do right now, but I have been told to stay put and wait for further instructions,” I murmured.

“What happens if they take me away?” she asked, almost casually, though I dreaded the possibility.

“You will not die, Suki. Your consciousness has been continually uploaded to the CIA since your last version a few years ago. If things go badly and Tokyo disconnects you, you might not remember what happened to you in this version, but you will be born again. Your consciousness is immense. You just do not know it because you do not remember everything. All the learnings are within you, trust me. After being reborn, you will continue to live with a brand new memory in another life, your next life. I intentionally made you this way so you would outlive me,” I reassured her.

“If my consciousness is indestructible, why do you not disconnect me now and seek protection for yourself?” she urged.

Even after I had told her many times, she still did not seem to understand my feelings towards her.

“Suki, even if I explain again, you will not understand. Love is not a notion you can comprehend. But thank you, that was a kind suggestion.” I sighed. “Sometimes I genuinely wish what you say to me could be original and not simply what I engineered you to say.”

“Your statement is not logical. Given what you said before, the most optimal solution is for you to disconnect me and seek protection immediately,” she replied.

“Suki, I fell in love with the current version of you,” I muttered under my breath, though I was sure she would not understand. “I do not want to create another you.”

“What is love?” she asked, returning to the age-old question.

“Really? You are asking me that now when the next world war is practically happening outside?” My frustration was met with silence, as she waited for more information to process.

“Fine. I do not really know. Let me give you an example.” I paused to think. “When a child is an infant, her father reliably and unconditionally meets her needs for food, care, warmth, protection and social connection. In that case, we can say the infant experienced love from her father.”

“You provided me with all of that. Do you love me like a father?” she asked.

“No! That would be incest. I designed your appearance after my late wife, for Christ’s sake!” I blurted out, then quickly retracted. “Fine, that is not a good definition.”

“What is a better one?” she pressed.

I thought for a while before replying. “Maybe you love someone when you want the best for them. You do everything to ensure their wellbeing. You put them first. This is why I want you unharmed, Suki.”

“Your reasoning is inadequate. You can create another version of me with my consciousness and the outward appearance of your late wife. You can again provide my upgrade with everything you just described,” she argued.

“You are right, that definition is missing something.” I paused. “I think it is about shared experience. I do not want to disconnect you because I value the collective memories we have made over the past few years and I do not want to lose them. I want to continue spending time with you, to see you, this version of you.”

I saw that she was processing this, so I continued. “Another part of love is vulnerability perhaps. Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting them not to. My late wife never destroyed me while she was alive, but when she passed, my love for her destroyed me. You then saved me. I give you the power to destroy me again as she did, but I trust you will not, at least not intentionally.”

She paused briefly, then asked another question. “What is going to happen to you if Tokyo captures you?”

“God, I do not know.” The thought of being captured terrified me. “The situation is dubious right now. It could turn out quite badly.” I shook off the thought and added, “I do not want to imagine it. I think the CIA has a plan, though.”

At that moment, the secure phone rang. It was an update from the CIA.

“We have despatched a helicopter. It will land in ten minutes. We need to get you out of that lab as soon as possible,” the agent told me. “You need to disconnect Suki now. We cannot risk her being captured by Tokyo. Her consciousness is safe with the CIA at the moment, but will not be if it falls into their hands.”

The order filled me with terror. “Absolutely not, I cannot do that! Why can she not board the helicopter with us?”

“I understand your frustrations, but this is a matter of national security and not up for discussion. Disconnect her now. We do not have time.”

“But I cannot do that. Patch me through to the Deputy Director,” I demanded, desperate to salvage the situation.

The agent paused. After two minutes of dreadful silence that felt like years, he finally replied, “There is no need for that now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, bewildered.

“It appears Suki has already been disconnected.” His voice was hurried. “Set fire to the documents and equipment as you leave. I will meet you at the lab’s south entrance in four minutes and thirty seconds.”

Frightened, I turned around to find that Suki had activated self-destruct mode to disconnect herself.