Status Update Pending

“Good morning Katherine,” said PAN the moment before her eyelids fluttered open. Its voice, gentle and genderless, issued from the walls. Music followed the greeting, this time a vibrant concerto.

               “Thanks, PAN. Perfect song, as always,” she said and threw back the covers to begin her day.

               She was grateful her parents could afford her PAN-integrated dorm. The Predictive Algorithm Network, PAN for short, was available to everyone, accessible via any network-connected device including the smart watches distributed to each citizen. However the automation in this building was prohibitively expensive for most. Integration allowed PAN to set the lighting to the perfect brightness based on her mood. It ran the shower at the perfect temperature based on her heart rate. It started her breakfast smoothie in the kitchenette. She didn’t even know what she wanted this morning, but she knew whatever it was PAN would already have it ready and waiting.

               At her closet a rack extended displaying the perfect outfit.  

***

“Hey girl!” said her friend Eve, waiting on the landing to join her on the way downstairs. She and Kate’s schedules mostly overlapped and they usually walked together. “You look fantastic. PAN, when are you going to pick me out clothes like that?” Eve directed the last bit to her smart watch.

               Kate grabbed Eve’s wrist and brought her face close to yell, “Don’t listen PAN! You and I both know Eve looks amazing. Just perfect.”

               “Okay, I look fantastic too,” Eve agreed pulling her hand back. “I’d better, because guess what PAN brought me last night.” She tapped her watch face and showed Kate. “My match.”

               “No!” Kate shrieked as a professor passed by and gave her a bemused look. Kate lowered her voice to a whisper, but repeated, “No! Give it here.” She grabbed Eve’s wrist again to see a gorgeous woman flash up on the screen. She was dark-skinned with a shaved head, big brown eyes and a warm smile. “Eve! Could she be more your type? How excited are you?”

               Eve beamed. She scrolled through the predictive profile and reported, “Her name is Eleanor. She’s going to be a chemist! Specifically pharmaceuticals. Did you hear that? PAN says my new girlfriend is curing cancer.”

***

Kate lay in her room that evening intending to finish an assignment, but her thoughts kept returning to Eve.

               She had waved Eve off only an hour earlier to her new match-made bliss. When Eve had said ‘wish me luck’, Kate had only laughed. PAN was better than luck. Eleanor was obviously Eve’s destiny. Then Eve had suggested Kate request a match too. She was single, successful, and predicted to be nothing less than a Supreme Court justice. It would only be a distraction, Kate insisted, but the excuse was flimsy. Alone now, the silence was more convincing than Eve had been. With her best friend about to embark on a committed relationship, Kate suddenly realized how free her time might become.

               She found herself scrolling through PAN recommendations: clothes to buy, books to read, places to visit, each recommendation perfectly tailored to Kate. At the bottom in bold letters lay the only recommendation she had never clicked: LIFE PARTNER. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had boyfriends before. Her parents had begrudgingly turned on PAN’s romance recommendations at the age of fourteen after a year of their daughter begging, but that was only an added feature under the friendship section.  The resulting romances had been a few years of off and on dating with a handful of boys and included one unfounded and ultimately inaccurate declaration of love.

LIFE PARTNER was an entirely different level and hadn’t become available until the age of twenty. This time she didn’t need her parent’s consent, but then she hadn’t really wanted anything more than friendship, romantic or not, until now.

               She stared at the screen until the letters blurred. Before her brain could catch up her fingers were clicking blindly through the consent form.

               Suddenly a vaguely familiar face stared back at her. Nathan was not what she had expected. He was her age, pale and thin with mussed brown hair and some seriously stern eyebrows. How had Eve felt? She had seemed excited, sure, but now Kate wondered how Eve felt in the moment she first saw her match because Kate felt a curious absence of identifiable feelings. Wasn’t there supposed to be thunder and butterflies? The most she felt was a little indigestion.

               “Please take one,” PAN said, opening her desk drawer to reveal an antacid bottle. She chewed a tablet while scrolling through his predictive profile. Well, the proximity was perfect. He was on campus and attended her political science class. That explained the familiarity.

               Then she scrolled down to the career section: President. Oh. Wow. Okay. His profile took on a new sheen. How shallow of her to have judged him based on appearance. What had she been expecting anyway, a Ken doll?  

               “You would like a meeting to be arranged?” PAN confirmed.

               “Yes. Maybe. Just do it,” Kate stammered and shut off the screen before she could obsess any more over his profile.

***

 At noon the next day, Kate sat in a diner booth drumming her fingers on the table. Her watch counted down Nathan’s arrival. 

               “You’d like the tuna salad sandwich with sweet potato fries?” A waitress confirmed reading off her PAN screen. Kate nodded offhand, it sounded perfect.

               One minute remained. Kate looked out the window, craning her neck both directions. Shouldn’t she see him approaching?

               She practiced a smile but felt stupid and stopped. She stilled her hands.

               Ten seconds. She looked at the door again. She should definitely see him now, but no Nathan.

Just before the time could elapse, fifteen minutes reappeared on her watch and began counting down again. She tapped the display with her finger. That had never happened before. Was it someone’s fault? Whose? Nathan’s? Her own somehow?

               Kate vacillated between planning her gracious response when he apologized for being late and visualizing his surprise if she left before he arrived. But then who would eat her sandwich?

This time the bells over the door chimed as Nathan entered the moment when the countdown finished.

“Hey Kate. I’ve been waiting for this,” he said smoothly sliding in across from her.

“Oh, it’s no problem, -” she stopped. He hadn’t apologized. “Wait, what have you been waiting for? Was your timer off too?”

“What? No. For this meeting. I’ve been noticing you in class for weeks.”

               “Really?” She was surprised more than flattered. She hadn’t noticed him at all. She grasped for topics. What does one say to one’s soulmate upon their first meeting? “I can’t believe you’re going to be president.”

               “Yeah. Whatever,” he said with a shrug. “And you’ll be on the Supreme Court, right? So what does that mean? Do I nominate you?”

               “Wait, what does that mean? Does it matter which one of us goes first? Could that be considered corruption?”

               “Well PAN said it, so it must be true. What’s the point of being branded elite unless you get some advantages?”

               Kate stared at him blankly.

               “You don’t believe that, right?” she said. “Elite - are you joking? The network is science, just mathematics and code based on data. It’s not a contest to measure who’s better. It’s not a blank check to do what you want.”

               “I mean - sure, Your Honor,” he said, holding up one hand with sarcastic solemnness. Then he leaned in with one of his dark brows raised conspiratorially and added, “But you know - president? Supreme Court? Don’t you think that means we deserve a little leeway compared to someone predicted to be a waitress?” He leaned back and stretched his arms out casually across the booth top. “We can be honest with each other, Soulmate Kate. I mean would you have been as excited for your match if it said garbage man?”

               “So, what? You think less of blue collar workers when you’re supposed to be a public servant to them? I don’t know how I would have felt, I guess.” Kate hesitated. She thought back to how she felt reading the word president in his profile and the resulting shame only ignited her smoldering moral indignation. “I’m not PAN and I don’t know why the network matched me with you instead of a garbage man. But maybe it would have been better.”

               His brows lifted as he regarded her with an amusement she found repellent.

               “Yes. Better,” she repeated. “I found you a little underwhelming, honestly.” She sucked her breath in after the words came out. That might have been too far. That was definitely too far. She should apologize.

Her thoughts must have been laid bare on her face because Nathan barked a laugh.

“Oh look, Sweetie,” he said with mock sentimentality. “Our first argument. Let’s take a picture for the scrapbook.” He held up his wrist to snap a picture of her bewildered face. “What should I caption it? The time Kate told me she would rather marry a garbage man than me?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said.

The waitress dropped off their food: tuna for Kate and a bacon cheeseburger for Nathan.

“Apology accepted,” he said once she left and took a big bite out of his burger. Still chewing, he said, “Maybe we’ll understand this pairing better once we test our chemistry physically.”

“Nope. Sorry. I’m not feeling well,” Kate said, talking fast and gathering her things. She stopped and looked him right in the eyes. “Okay, that’s not true. I’m not feeling this, whatever this is.” She walked out thrilled at the shock on his face.

***

“Whoa,” said Eve in her room the next morning before class. She had been out late with Eleanor and this was the first chance for Kate to tell her everything. “You know, my mom loved really old movies like this. Pre-PAN. In all of them the couple hates each other before they fall in love. Maybe this is like that?” Eve suggested.

               “Well this is post-PAN and I don’t want that. I want a meeting of like minds. I want deep, true connection. I checked PAN again and it still says he’s my match. No error message or anything, if that’s even possible. What was it like when you met Eleanor?”

               “Yeah, well, you know pretty much the same except she didn’t tell me she believed in a predictive caste system and I didn’t storm out at the end. Plus we’re both vegan, so you know, we ordered different food.”

               Kate laughed for the first time since yesterday’s lunch. She playfully shoved Eve out the door to leave for class.

               “Seriously, Kate - this will turn around. Give it a chance. You know you can be … argumentative sometimes.”

               “We’re going into law. We’re both argumentative,” said Kate.

               “Yeah, well, you’re literally on a whole other level.”

               At the stairs they stopped. Each cement step had been marked in chalk with a letter and a fresh cut daisy lay on top. They went down slowly at first, then faster, Kate collecting each flower while they read the letters.

               The message read: Sorry Kate. Can we please start over? By the bottom she was holding a bouquet, and Nathan stood outside looking sheepish.

               “Yeah,” said Eve. “I’m gonna let you two talk.” She exited, patting Nathan’s shoulder on the way out and said, “Just like the movies!”

               Kate reluctantly walked out to meet Nathan.

               “I think I really messed up yesterday. I apologize,” he said immediately.

               “Thanks. For that.” She motioned back to the stairway. “And these.” She held up the flowers.

               They walked to class together and the conversation was pleasant, fun even. Nathan had a wicked sense of humor which Kate appreciated when his target was shifted off her.

               When they entered the lecture hall Eve, already seated, gave Kate a questioning look. Kate responded with a noncommittal shrug. A nice morning stroll wasn’t going to tip the scales, but she agreed to sit next to him at least.

               “Quizzes everyone!” The professor greeted them to a chorus of groans. “Pencils out and bags away.” Papers were passed quickly down aisles and Kate began scribbling in essay answers. She studied hard, knowing she would need it in her career, and the quiz wasn’t too difficult. 

It wasn’t until halfway through her second page she noticed Nathan. He was on the last page not because he wrote faster, no one wrote faster than Kate, but because he was only writing a sentence or two for each question.

Kate reread the instructions. They clearly demanded detailed explanations supported with examples. He was going to fail, which was a surprise but not a shock she supposed. He was going to be president and he definitely needed to know this material, but it didn’t mean he had to pass this particular quiz. PAN must know he would ultimately buckle down.

She returned to her paper while Nathan walked up to hand his in. Nearly half an hour later, she fed her own in to the PAN-integrated scoring machine and left. Her result had popped up on her watch by the time she walked out the door and found Nathan waiting for her.

               “I lost a point on the one about the United Nations. You?” she asked.

               “Perfect score,” he answered with a grin.

               “No, really,” Kate said pointing to his watch. “How bad was it? You barely strung together two sentences. I saw your paper.”

               He held his display out for her to check. It showed a perfect score.

               “How?” she asked.

People were streaming from the lecture hall now, jostling them in their wake.

               “There must be brilliance in my brevity,” he shrugged. “Let’s try a different place for lunch today.”

               “No. There were instructions you didn’t follow. How does that deserve a perfect score?”

               “Kate, I’m hungry. I’ll tell you my answers at lunch.”

               She spun around, marched back into the empty classroom and interrupted the teacher from packing his bag.

               “How was the quiz scored?” Kate asked.

               The professor looked annoyed but patted the machine on the table and answered, “PAN-integrated scoring. Fairly obvious, I would think.”

               “But what are the points based on? Who writes the questions? Who checks the answers?”

               “Kate, isn’t it? Future – let me see if I remember – lawyer?”

               “Close enough,” she said, too annoyed for details.

               “Of course. I use PAN recommended questions and PAN scores the answers. Kate, you’re doing well. Obviously PAN has predicted you’ll keep doing well. Let’s call it a day on this, shall we?”

               “Not me. Him,” she said motioning to Nathan, whose expression made clear he regretted reentering. “He didn’t answer the questions.”

               “I did,” Nathan objected.

               “Fine. How did you answer the United Nations question,” she demanded.

               “I said the United Nations is a joke. They should just replace their sessions with the algorithm,” he said with a sneer.

               “That wasn’t remotely the point of that question. You know, I barely recognized you when I saw your face the first time. How often do you even come to class? What is your grade?”

               The professor sighed. “He doesn’t have to share that with you.” However he did scroll on his device and his face lit up. “A future world leader here, I see. Congratulations.” The professor shook Nathan’s hand.

               Kate let out a strangled yell and walked out. When Nathan tried to grab her arm to haul her back she jerked away and ran out of the building back to her dorm. He yelled for her, but she didn’t look back.

               Doubts raced through her mind. She had been firm in her faith the algorithm determinations came from ability and dedication. PAN was never wrong barring acts of God maiming or killing a subject. It literally took something on the level of plagues, earthquakes, and flash floods to shake the algorithm. That had been the basis of her life so far and now she had been totally unmoored.

What did it really mean for the algorithm to always be right? Would PAN predict and account for someone working against it or not working at all? She couldn’t imagine Nathan being a dedicated public servant, but was that just her own lack of imagination? Surely PAN knew better than she did, but what didn’t it know exactly?

               Would the network intervene to make a failed prediction true? Was it a loophole Nathan was exploiting? How could PAN ever have matched her with him? Didn’t their mismatch alone prove it was capable of mistakes or were her future feelings for him inevitable?

               She ran into her building and realized he was behind her and gaining. She dashed up the stairs with him closing in, and in a panic at the top she threw back an elbow that caught him firmly in the ribs. He let out a startled shout, and then the only sound behind her was the thump, thump of him down the stairs.

Then silence.

She checked her watch. An emergency alert warned her she was currently in a crime scene. Do NOT touch the victim under any circumstances, it read. This alert was replaced by a new one, something she had never seen before, reporting updates to her predictive profile. Under status it read: RECALCULATING.