The Marriage Act(13)
‘I assumed we’d be okay after we repeated some of the Level One Push notifications back into the Audite,’ added Noah.
‘For some couples, notifications are gentle nudges to make them aware of how they might be communicating or if they’re bickering too often. And, once red flags are raised, the system has learnt to also sift through your online blogs, sites you visit, text and voice messages, online and real-world purchases and social media accounts. It’ll see what you’ve posted, how often you mention or are pictured with each other, if you’re spending a lot of time talking to friends who are single along with many other factors to decide whether you need the likes of me. But I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Perhaps Audite’s AI has labelled you incorrectly and needs a little retraining.’
‘Does that happen often?’ asked Luca.
‘You’d be surprised,’ Jeffrey replied. ‘Like us, it isn’t perfect, no matter what they’d have you believe.’
Jeffrey had prepared for their meeting by staying awake all night and swallowing legalized stimulants to keep his concentration focused. He remained inside his car or in 24-hour coffee houses, trawling through the couple’s social media accounts. He had also listened to hour after hour of Audite-recorded conversations and concluded that much of Noah and Luca’s dialogue was based on good-natured humour. They were a couple who enjoyed making each other laugh with amusing put-downs.
However, while Audite’s AI was supposed to be competent at interpreting relationship cues and recognizing the difference between sarcasm and scorn, its predictions threw up false positives from time to time. Noah and Luca were casualties of an imperfect concept.
‘Do you mind if I take a few moments to look around your home?’ Jeffrey asked.
‘Of course,’ said Luca. ‘Follow me . . .’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to go by myself.’ He raised his palms vertically to his chest. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be intrusive.’
He left his uneasy clients behind as he made his way into the kitchen-diner, noting how everything from the cutlery drawer to pots and pans and tea towels were well stacked or folded and neatly laid out. Even the tumble dryer was lint-free. It was already a house after his own heart and a far cry from his own flat, of which he had not so much as set foot in for almost three years.
Upstairs, the master bedroom’s en suite contained two sinks and two cabinets, neither stocked with anything of note, with the exception of antidepressant patches, prescribed in Luca’s name. The underwear drawer in their bedroom contained only labelled clothing, aussieBum or Calvin Klein, and Jeffrey couldn’t decide who favoured jock straps and briefs and who wore fitted trunks. He slipped one of the jockstraps into his pocket. In another drawer, he found a handful of sex toys and lubricants. He sniffed the fruity flavours and dabbed them on his lips. He snickered when one of the vibrating toys tickled his cheek as he ran it across his face. He also wondered why a married couple needed a box of condoms. Finally, he lifted their pillows and inhaled them deeply, identifying who slept on which side by the scent of their skin.
Amongst a stack of plastic trays in their home office, he noted a photograph of two toddlers, a boy and a girl. A folder accompanying it revealed Noah and Luca had been matched with a surrogate and the photograph was a computer illustration of what their children might look like. A knot appeared in Jeffrey’s stomach, a reminder that life was passing him by.
He glanced out of the window and, in the distance, caught sight of the former National Lift Tower, a 120-metre concrete cylindrical building close to the centre of town. As a boy, he had seen it from his own bedroom window. Perhaps while he was back here, it was time he made peace with his past.
‘Which of the spare rooms would you like me to take?’ he began as he returned to his clients.
Noah and Luca looked blankly at Jeffrey, then to one another.
‘Under the terms of your Smart Marriage contract, a Relationship Responder can move in with a couple if they decide they can do their job more effectively in a closer proximity.’
‘Is that really necessary?’ asked Noah. ‘You said yourself the system probably needs a reset.’
‘I said perhaps Audite’s AI might need a little retraining. Having only just met you, at this point it’s impossible for me to know one way or the other. Of course, if you prefer, I don’t have to stay here; I can always just add to my report that it wasn’t something you were comfortable doing . . .’
‘It really isn’t conve—’ started Noah.
‘Jeffrey,’ Luca interrupted, ‘would you being here speed this Level Two process up?’
Jeffrey nodded. ‘The average time a Relationship Responder spends with his clients is seven to eight weeks. But that could be reduced by a third if given complete access.’
‘Could we have a moment to talk about this privately?’ Noah asked.
Jeffrey had witnessed a similar reluctance in others he’d worked with. But in the end, the answer was always the same.
‘I don’t think we need to discuss it,’ said Luca. ‘You can take the room that overlooks the back garden if you like, Jeffrey?’
‘Excellent. I’m house-trained so you won’t even know I’m here most of the time. I’ll get my suitcase from the car.’
Luca offered a smile that made the hairs on Jeffrey’s arms rise.