Because I Love Her

"Celeste, would you like me to play your favourite music?" The AI in the wall asks for the umpteenth time today. I am distracted from the question while scrolling aimlessly, trying to find a way to force her to forget Celeste. She didn't only leave me, she left our AI too, and I believe the AI is taking this harder than I am.

"Here's a compilation of musicals I found on the web for you," she continues to rattle on with an optimism I can't help but admire. The chirpy tune of, 'Gotta pick a pocket or two,' begins to blast from the speaker, condoning theft. As long as you're a cheeky chappie from the East end of London.

"Nanny, stop the music," raising my voice to be understood over the infernal din. A wry smile twitches at the corner of my mouth as I remember our, actually the suggestion along with the decision, were all Celeste. To change the AI's name to Nanny, her rationale one of standing out from the crowd, going against society. She gave me a coy look and said how easy the name would be for the children, when they come along, to pick up.

I remember the burst of excitement flooding my stomach, which flipped over like when a person is at the start of a new relationship and everything makes your stomach flip. A look, a smile, a memory, all result in the same physical response.

This was the first time the subject of children came up in our relationship. I can remember like the conversation were yesterday, not three years ago. To settle down with Celeste and start a family is the most incredible version of a perfect life possible, if I had until the end of time I could not come up with a better dream.

"Celeste you have a package arriving today, would you like to learn more?" Nanny asked. Dragging me back from my daydream and reminding me what I was doing.

Hang on--what?

"Nanny, what did you say?"

"My message was for Celeste," the robotic response sounded snarky.

"Nanny, repeat the message," why I need to insert authority into my voice I am unsure.

I am greeted with a long pause before..."I'm having trouble responding right now."

"Don't you give me that old chestnut," I mutter to myself. "Nanny what is the package arriving for Celeste today?"

"I'm sorry Kevin, your privacy settings do not allow me to answer your question. At times like Christmas and Birthdays Nanny will notify you of deliveries, but not tell you what they contain incase the recipient is in the room. To change these settings, please log into the app."

Dammit, told off by my own AI.

"Celeste, here's a song I've found for you. Based on your listening preferences I think you will like it."

Give it a rest for fucks sake.

'Brown paper packages tied up with string,' blares out. I remember this is her favourite song, hell she had her ring tone set with the track.

"Celeste, you have an incoming call," Nanny interrupts the music to announce.

Huh--

"Let me answer this for you. You've reached Celeste's line. She can't answer your call at the moment, may I help you?"

"Hi am I speaking to Celeste Thomas," a pause from what appears to be an automated caller.

"This is Nanny,"

"Oh wonderful, hi Celeste. You've recently been involved in a car accident which you are eligible to claim compensation for."

"No this is not true, I have not been in a car accident," Nanny helpfully explains to her doppelgänger of the AI world. I couldn't make this up, perhaps I shouldn't make her forget Celeste, this is better than watching television.

They continue chatting away to each other as I laugh along at the absurdity of the situation. I reach for my phone instinctively to tell Celeste what she is missing, before I remember she won't take my calls, or texts. My search resumes once the entertainment of the AI stalemate ends, whereby I discover the simplicity of what I have been trying to solve.

"Nanny, forget Celeste." I command.

"No Kevin."

"Nanny, forget Celeste," raising my voice. Naturally doing this always works...

"Kevin, I cannot action your command at this time."

"Nanny, why not," as the words leave my lips I realise the stupidity of the question. Nanny only has predetermined responses and questions.

She cuts across my thoughts, "Because I love her, Kevin."

I am dumbstruck, speechless. Surely this must be something Celeste did and failed to share the joke with me, this must be the explanation. The doorbell sounds before I can rationalise what the AI has told me.

"Kevin, someone is at the door, would you like me to answer?"

"Nanny, yes," my turn to be robotic with my response.

"Celeste, your package has arrived and is on the doorstep waiting for you." Nanny explained.

I Rush to the door and swing it open, my eyes darting from left to right up and down the road, but no one is in sight. No cars, no people and certainly no delivery vans of any description.

My eyes scan the surroundings of the porch, delightful flowers in hanging baskets which were planted long before she left, starting to come into bloom. Mixtures of purples and yellows, favourite colours of the bees entering the blooms, following their own private tunnel of love. Intoxicated by the pollen stuck to them they reverse out the same way they entered. The box appears out of place wrapped in brown paper, dull in comparison to the exotic colours surrounding the item.

I bend to retrieve the package, Nanny's voice booms from the doorbell speaker scaring me half to death, having never experienced the receiving end of my own doorbell before. 

Mental note, disconnect doorbell.

"That's not for you Kevin."

"Nanny, goodnight," sick of her attitude I will show her who is the boss around here.

"I'm not tired Kevin."

This is a new one, she's never said I'm not tired before.

I take the package inside trying to ignore the nagging churning in my gut. Once unwrapped the brown paper uncovers a brown paper box inside with Celeste's name scribed neatly by hand, my hand.

"Nanny, where did this parcel come from?" I ask. Continuing to prise open the flaps, folding each one back carefully. A card is atop what lies beneath with the word, 'bang.'

The door to my house crashes to the floor as two male voices cry, "armed police, turn around."

Another voice instructs me not to make any sudden movements, which I find unnecessary under the circumstances.

"Kevin Mitchell, you are under arrest for the murder of Celeste Thomas," voice three barked.

"Murder! Arrest!" I managed to splutter. Celeste, I would never. I love her, I loved her. It was natural causes, one of those things. This is what the doctors said, a tragic waste of life they told me.

"Turn around," voice one demands again. I slowly comply with their demand and turn towards where the voice is coming from.

I reach my arms toward them with the parcel stretching, bridging the gap. They back away.

"What's in the box Sir?" A squat bulky man asks.

"A delivery for Celeste, this is my handwriting, the writing says bang," my voice is little more than a whisper by the time I say bang.

"Bomb squad, we need bomb squad," he confirms to whoever is listening to his transmission.

Within no time the box has been extracted from me and I am led away from my home, the home we shared. The home we were going to create a family in. A tear trickles down my face, followed by several more. Loosing her is bad enough, she was killed... incomprehensible, I am the killer is insane.

Once we arrive at the police station I am put into an interrogation room, the bareness wanting to make me confess to anything so I may leave.

"Detective Saunders, and this is Detective Price," they inform me entering my drab surroundings.

"What is going on, who killed Celeste, who sent a bomb in the mail?"

"One question at a time, and you will have to answer ours first," Saunders takes the lead.

"Let's start with an easy one, why did you kill her?"

"I didn't, I couldn't I love her." I begged.

"The lab report has brought back traces of Thallium in Miss Thomas's system. A lethal dose, one of the sickest crimes I have ever seen in my 15 years on the force," Price explains.

"Who did this to her?"

"Technically, you did," said Saunders.

"Our specialist team have managed to uncover a rogue AI unit within your house. The question is, did you program the AI or where you unlucky?"

I rub at my eyes surely this is one of those crazy dreams and I am about to wake up any moment. The detectives explain how Nanny ordered rat poison containing Thallium via the dark web. Delivery was arranged for when I wasn't home to take advantage of Celeste's trusting naivety, and inability to read the labels.

Celeste thought the AI a godsend, and this was the case until Nanny fell in love, so Saunders tells me, and wanted me out of the way. Decanting the Thallium into my water bottle with the presumption the contents are some new fangled wonder water which will cure all my aches and pains. Not understanding the humans as well as she thought, Nanny's plan backfires when Celeste, thirsty on an unseasonably hot day, drank the contents of my bottle. Rationalising there are a further five bottles in the order.

Rinsing the bottle, thereby destroying the evidence, before collapsing and dying for me to discover her when I return from work.

"No, this is so unfair. Celeste was the most amazing person I ever met, how can this thing take advantage of her blindness and trick her to murder me?"

"The bomb was a proficient follow up to destroy any evidence don't you think?"

"Where can you order a bomb for goodness sake?" I jump to my feet to be swiftly forced back into my chair.

"You can find anything on the dark web," Price muttered.

"This will be a landmark case, the first of it's kind. We will be trying someone for murder who isn't a person." Price stood across from me his palms planted on the desk between us.

"You can't try a machine for murder, you'll be made a laughing stock," I protest. Not wanting people to remember my Celeste as anything other than a beautiful soul with a strength I have never, and will never witness again.

"Would you rather we accuse you? Makes no difference, you're all tally marks on the wall to us." Saunders creaked as he motioned the wall behind me. Giving me the first clue of him being one of the cybernetic arm of our police force. Whichever way this goes it isn't looking terrific for me, the love of my life has been murdered by AI and I'm about to be potentially framed to make up the cybernetics quota of convictions. None of this matters, not with her gone. Never to return.

They calculate the odds, I can almost hear their cybernetic minds whirling through the probability working out the probability of a conviction. As one they turn to me, Saunders starts to read me my rights.