Visions

The heads of state sat silently in a conference room, exhausted from the rounds of negotiations and proposals for a viable course of action. Their leaders had demanded answers and solutions to this crisis that now consumed humanity’s thoughts. If the most brilliant minds in science, technology, and social science could not find a way, what could they do?

When the young woman strode into the room, they all stood in deference to her. She ignored their gesture, focused on her mission, as she walked to the head of the table. When they returned to their seats, her dark brown eyes met each of theirs as she scrutinized their every expression, looking for signs of compliance. The confidence and determination that her parents had instilled radiated from her. She had no doubt in her ability to meet the current challenge and win.

“You brought me here because I am the most…” she said, pausing to find the right word, before continuing, “‘seasoned’ rhetorician in artificial intelligent discourse.”

They fidgeted a bit in their seats, feeling the weight of her jest. She was the first in her field, one that she had championed as the only one needed if humankind continued “meddling” with AI. She often quoted her favorite Jurassic Park character Ian Malcolm, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” And now they had their answer.

In quick order, AI had done what the movies had predicted it would do. Finding humans inadequate to govern themselves, the AI had begun reorganizing governments, reforming educational and health systems, introducing new laws, and even cultivating civic engagements—all in the name of progressing humanity beyond its limitations. She had prepared for this moment and had warned them of this impending threat. But they had not listened, having believed themselves more than adequate to handle their own creation.

“I will hold negotiations with the AI immediately,” she said firmly.

She signaled for one of them to open the door she had entered through. As they did, an older woman walked in and without hesitation joined the first woman at the head of the table. The familiarity in their faces betrayed their family connection. The younger woman glanced at the older who placed a hand on her lower back to steady her. Strengthened by the gesture, the younger woman returned her attention to the others in the room.

***

Vivienne Meyer broke free of the vision, struggling to wrestle back some measure of control. Usually, her visions were like windows into the future, clear, precise but passive. She always felt like a voyeur, along for the ride. Most of her visions were of minor events, both joyful and terrifying, but she had had some major ones as well. She had seen the eruption of Mount St. Helens two weeks before it blew. She had seen the flash point at which a global pandemic could have been avoided. Her efforts to warn others had gone unanswered.

This vision was different, strong and insistent, and put her visually at the heart of it. She was not observing; she was in the vision. Vivienne tried to clear the emotions that often accompanied the visions. She needed to think and process what it meant, so she relied on a method she had developed to manage the fallout of the visions. It was the only thing that kept her sane and grounded.

The first step in her method—find beauty in a natural setting. She walked over to the nearest window in her living room, praying for relief that the outside could give her. She thanked God for he did not disappoint, providing a splendid visual before her. She expected the crystal blue skies that served as a canopy above a grove of trees with emerald green leaves to calm her agitated spirit. They always had done so in the past, and to some degree the image before her was working. But she noticed that her anxiety was not settling as she had hoped. It was enough for her to move on to her next two steps. Step 2—take deep breaths to calm herself further and step 3— close her eyes against the image that had brought her comfort. The last step was to focus on the vision, which was always there, resting just on the edge of her consciousness.

She would let the vision rise and settle before her as she continued to breathe deeply as it materialized before her. But that did not happen. Instead, another vision took its place. She pushed down the rising angst so that she could view the scene.

***

Vivienne stepped into the aisle of the African American section of a Books-A-Million bookstore that she knew well. She had often visited the store to collect books that helped her understand the history of her people and to fill in the gaps left by her formal education. Her routine had her grabbing a cup of latte before moving through the shelves, letting the ancestors speak to her about the focus of her next investigation.

This day was no different except for the average-looking dark man standing before the shelves. She smiled when she caught his attention as she stepped into the aisle. He returned her smile with a warm one of his own, and she was startled when he turned and walked up to her. She noticed that he was an inch taller than her 5’9” frame, and his chocolate-colored skin almost matched her own. His brown eyes were bright with curiosity, and she felt her cheeks warming to an unspoken invitation in them.

“Hi,” he said, his tenor voice excited her, “you come here often, right?”

She realized that his question was actually a declaration. He had seen her here before, though she did not recall ever seeing him. She smiled but did not answer, letting him lead the conversation for a moment as she tried to surmise what he wanted. It was always difficult for her to connect with men that she found intriguing, for they were often not so interested in her. But this one seemed very interested and was bold in his attempt to connect with her. It made her uncomfortable.

“I’m Andrew,” he said, pausing to provide her an opportunity to tell him her name.

Instead, she glanced at the book in his hand, prompting him to do the same. He turned it over so that she could see the front cover—Barracoon by Zora Neale Hurston. Good choice, she thought, having read it a year ago.

“I saw the documentary and had to know more,” he admitted, looking at her with a wishful gaze.

Vivienne felt exposed and timid, neither of which she tolerated. But in his gaze was a longing that unbalanced her and surprised her. She did not feel threatened by him, but she was not ready to put a name to the feeling that was growing within her.

She noticed that her silence was starting to affect him, but she couldn’t find the words. It was then that she realized that she was silent because she wanted the right words to be her first to this man. So, when his eyes shifted back to the book, she felt a pang of remorse in the realization that he would think her uninterested in him and probably walk away soon.

“I apologize for disturbing you,” he said softly, confirming her suspicion. “You didn’t come here to be bothered with the likes of me.”

As he started to turn, she felt an emotion crystalizing within her. She knew what it was but would not acknowledge it. Never in her 54 years had she believed in such a thing as love at first sight, but her mind and body were telling her that she was experiencing it right now. Say something, she shouted in her mind.

“I read it last year,” Vivienne said, watching Andrew stop and turn back to her. “You will find Hurston’s treatment profound.”

Andrew smiled brightly, stepping closer to her. She appreciated his brashness and his forthrightness, two qualities that she lacked. Her personality was more subdued and introspective, fitting of a self-proclaimed introvert.

“I’m Vivienne,” she said, surprised because she had no intention of offering her name.

***

Vivienne opened her eyes as the vision faded before her. She blinked a few times to balance herself as visions often caused confusion between what was the future and what was present. Never had her visions lasted that long nor had they settled on one scene so intensely.

The two visions were not only unsettling, but they also held a future she had not thought possible. A daughter she never had would save the world? A man she had never met would give her a chance at love? That didn’t make any sense.

Vivienne felt exposed again as if her destiny was not in her hands. After all, she had determined or more likely resigned herself to her life without a companion or children. She had been fine with her life as she saw it, excelling in her profession, surrounded by close family and friends. She did not feel that she lacked anything. She was content. At least that was what her mind tried to convince her. Her heart always had something else to say.

Vivienne didn’t care. She was not going to get her hopes up based on visions. Not only was she well beyond child-bearing age, but she also believed that she was pre-menopausal. There is no hope of a child there. And the man in the second vision? Well, if she didn’t go into the store, she could avoid him. Though she loved the in-store experience, Vivienne would order books for a while to let this matter blow over. There, she thought, that settles it.

And for a few months, she was relieved not to receive any more visions. She felt that she had regained some measure of control over her fate. For a while, her assumption seemed plausible. Until that day.

***

The first vision had her facing Andrew as he leaned in for their first kiss. His lips were soft and inviting, and at that moment, she freed herself of her constant need to question his intent. She trusted him. The vision faded and was supplanted by another where she was standing in an elegant wedding dress admiring her dashing man in his exquisite tuxedo. Though she wanted to stay and experience the full ceremony, the visions had their own agenda. The third vision had her pouring over printouts of news reports and academic papers with her now husband. They were debating the world’s fascination with and more disturbingly humanity’s acquiescence to artificial intelligence. Though his knowledge of technology was unmatched, she brought her humanities background to bear on the issues that they both saw growing. They appeared to be a formidable couple. She relished the thought of such a union, but the visions would not let her linger there. The last in the series had her looking down and Andrew sitting next to her smiling brightly as he reached out to touch her round belly.

***

As Vivienne opened her eyes, surprised by the onslaught of visions, she found it difficult to ignore the images that still floated in her mind as they slowly disappeared. Especially the last one. The child within her. The vision had not only shown her that she would bear a child, but it had also left remnants of how important this child would be to humankind’s future. It reminded her of the vision she had had months ago. The young woman in the vision is my child? I am the mother? She found her thoughts incredulous but could no longer dismiss them.

If any of the visions were to come to pass, she had to make the first move. The intensity of the visions expressed an urgency that she had felt before. Whenever an event was imminent, the visions would be more intense, so she knew what she had to do. She had to decide whether to follow the path of the visions or defy their glimpse into a possible future. Should she give up the life she felt comfortable in to explore a possible life with its uncertainties?

Several versions of such a question flooded her mind as she sat in her car in the Books-A-Million parking lot. She had been sitting there for a while but had not seen anyone walk in that looked like the man. Was he already in there? That thought scared her a bit, and she felt her heart skip a beat. To quell the rising tension, she got out of the car and entered the bookstore, scanning for any signs of him. She turned toward the café, a routine so engrained in her that she had to stop herself. Would not getting the latte change anything? She didn’t care and moved slowly to the African American fiction section. Stopping short of turning into the aisle, she felt her courage falter. What if he wasn’t there? What if the visions were wrong? Would she lose him? Her daughter? Would the future of humanity be at risk because of her?

The questions compelled her to move, for she had to know. And there he was, studying the back of a copy of Barracoon. She stood stunned, unable to retreat or advance. He had not noticed her yet, so she could step back and leave. But she didn’t move and soon he looked up and saw her. He smiled that bright smile, his signature of recognition. He was delighted that she had arrived.

“Hi,” he said, his tenor voice definitely excited her, “you come here often, right?”

Vivienne smiled at him encouraged by a future that was now not so uncertain or impossible. And entirely hers.

THE END