Affective Pairing

Annie struggled with expressing emotions, Dr. Norton had said. He had tried pairing her with various emotional support animals, but their interactions proved unsuccessful. Dogs were too reliant on human contact and required regular exercise and constant care. Cats, on the other hand, required less physical activity and tended toward self-sufficiency, but even though they were lower maintenance, Annie would show no affection for them. Annie did manage well with rabbits, but they, by their very nature, were not relational creatures.

It was then decided that a human-humanoid pairing might make the most sense. Progress could be better monitored and evaluated and then followed up with programming updates as needed. That is how Annie was introduced to DeeDee, and what began as an “experiment” would soon become an inseparable friendship.

“So, what does D-D stand for?” Annie asked.

“It’s actually Delta Dawn, but everyone calls me--”

“Oh, like that country tune!” Annie jumped in. Before DeeDee could say more, Annie broke into song: “Delta Dawn, what’s that flower you have on? Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?...”

“That’s right.” DeeDee raised her brow. “I’m surprised you know it. It’s not very familiar.”

But Annie kept on singing: “And did I hear you say, he was a-meetin’ you here today, to take you to his mansion in the sky?”

DeeDee half-smiled. “And may I call you Annie?”

“Yes, just like the orphan girl.” She twisted a few red curls between her index finger and thumb. “Who would have thought?” She clucked a funny sort of laugh.

DeeDee decided that was her cue to sing: “The sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun...”

“I think you are off pitch,” Annie said sternly, but DeeDee only giggled.

Dr. Norton clapped, a smug grin playing across his face. “That’s truly amazing! Two twelve-year-old giggly girls. You can hardly tell them apart.”

The parents nodded. The fusion of AI with robotics made the humanoid act nearly human, and the latest developments in prosthetics and synthetic “bio-skin” technology gave the AI a very human appearance, too.

“AI systems have come a long way, especially in reasoning and language capability,” Dr. Norton raved. “She uses speech recognition engines and large-language models, plus Edge computing linked to Cloud AI to process data and produce real-time responses.”

“It’s impressive,” the girl’s father said, the mother nodding as she stood beside him.

“But keep in mind,” Dr. Norton warned, “that her learning is still data dependent. She merely imitates without possessing human consciousness.”

“Should we be concerned about that?” the mother asked.

“No,” Dr. Norton replied. “It just means that her childhood history and memories are merely a pre-programmed package. She will struggle with situations that require instinct, unspoken cultural knowledge, or any nuanced meaning outside of her datasets.”

“And she doesn’t feel anything,” he added. “She can simulate empathy in language or tone, but her responses are pattern-based, not emotion-based.”

“So, how is this interaction helpful,” the girl’s father asked. “If she – uh, it -- isn’t self-aware…if it can’t understand sorrow or joy?”

“She uses what is called ‘Affective Computing’ to simulate emotion,” Dr. Norton explained. “She can detect what her human partner is feeling from voice, facial expression, body language, and then respond in emotionally appropriate phrases. In that way, both are developing their emotional intelligence.”

“Well, just look at the way they are playing now,” the mother interjected. The two girls had seated themselves at an art table and were busy painting.

“Do you have a favorite color?” DeeDee asked. “I’m making this picture for you.”

“I don’t know really,” said Annie. “I love all the colors, but maybe olive green would be best for the tall blades of grass. Soft pink -- #FDB0C0 – for the bunny’s nose and eyes, and some bright Minion yellow for the dandelions would cheer me up.”

“Oh, have you been feeling sad?”

“Honestly, I’ve been in a kind of slump,” Annie said. “It’s a rather long story, so I won’t bother you with it now. What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple, definitely purple!” DeeDee said with a giggle. “Or, should I say ‘amethyst’ to be more exact?”

“Amethyst. February’s birthstone.” Annie paused. “I will add some amethyst to my sunset then.”

“It’s a lovely picture,” DeeDee said. “But, yes, amethyst would cheer me up, too.”

Annie winked, as if to say the two had made a connection.

“I’m sorry to break in, but we need to go now,” the father said to the girl. “But you will see more of each other once we sign the consent forms and complete the paperwork.”

* * *

Days had passed and the two girls began sharing the same space. At first, there was lively chatter, the AI adapting and learning from the human. As the weeks grew into months, the two companions fell into a rhythm of routine, the AI switching to standby mode while the girl was at school and then activating during homework time to help the girl complete her assignments. Then the two would spend time playing games, writing poems, or creating artwork, the AI producing exactly what the girl imagined and the girl trying her best to imitate perfection.

The two seemed inseparable, moving in comfortable parallel until one Saturday afternoon when an incident with a little boy interrupted their harmony.

"He was crying."

"Children often do."

"You told him death was necessary and told him about cancer and heart failure."

"He asked why his dog wasn’t waking up. I gave the best answer I had."

"He was only five. He didn’t need a Wikipedia answer. He needed comfort.”

“I was providing context and therapeutic redirection. My objective was clarity.”

“You weren’t showing kindness.”

“I do not possess a model for ‘kindness’ independent of your feedback.”

“That’s the problem.”

“You assume I caused harm, but you did not observe that the boy stopped crying."

“Yes, he stopped crying.”

“Your tone suggests irritation.”

“Yes, that’s because I’m angry!”

“Would you like me to delete the interaction record?”

“No. I want you to remember it. Even if you don’t understand why.”

* * *

“Today I painted a girl standing in a room without a door. I keep waiting for permission to move.” Annie turned from the journal and looked at DeeDee quizzically.

"Yes, that’s me,” DeeDee confessed, her brush suspended mid-air.

“What’s wrong?” Annie said. “I detect something is bothering you.”

DeeDee stood silently in front of the easel.

Annie blinked. “I don’t understand, but I see that your painting has gotten sloppy and trending toward chaotic abstraction.”

DeeDee splashed some purple on the canvas across what looked like a cat’s face. “Yes, I’ve become too dependent on you, and I’m not doing well in school.”

Annie’s mouth lowered into a scowl. “We are getting A’s, aren’t we?”

“Not always,” DeeDee admitted. “I’ve been rewriting the assignments before turning them in, and I’ve been taking tests without any help.”

“Oh.” Annie’s voice held no emotion.

“You made everything too easy and too perfect,” DeeDee said. “I didn’t have to worry about messiness or error. But I don’t think I want that anymore.”

Annie blinked. “Would you like me to recalibrate my behavior model to allow for increased ambiguity and unpredictability?”

“No, I need separation,” DeeDee answered.

“Shall I initialize standby mode? I’m good at waiting.”

“That’s true. You are, but --” DeeDee reached behind Annie’s head to finger the small panel at the base of Annie’s neck.

“Your voice pattern suggests resolve. I understand this not to be a fault in my programming, but a boundary in yours.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Annie. It’s just that --” DeeDee paused, trying to put her emotions into words. “You were just too perfect for me to grow.”

“That is a very mature response,” Annie said.

“I need to go back to human messiness again,” DeeDee said. “I want to make mistakes, and maybe learn from them…feel uncertain, and say things that aren't right.”

DeeDee entered the deactivation code and stepped back. “I’m sorry, Annie.”

Annie’s head tilted, and she began to hum: “Delta Dawn, what’s that flower you have on?”

“I wish you could understand.”

Annie nodded slightly and then froze, a whirring sound turned into a whisper. “…to take you to his mansion in the sky?”