CHAPTER 18

“I believe you are incorrectin your interpretation of the data.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to recall them.

He knew he had an argument on his hands when her chin lifted, and her lips compressed in that obstinate manner she had. Why he found her small irrationalities charming instead of irritating was something he’d need to analyze later.

“Oh? How so?” She played with the little cake on her plate. She had been quiet and reserved since their quarrel yesterday about the whereabouts of their case studies.

Damn it. He didn’t want to argue. Not now. They were having a picnic in Richmond Park. The place was quiet and, this early in the morning, not too crowded. Only a few governesses with their charges. He had even splurged on one of the expensive Fortnum amp; Mason hampers, which, he had to admit, was some of the best food he had tasted since the start of this trip.

They’d set up their blanket in a quiet spot far from everyone and were having a pleasant breakfast, enjoying the sunshine, the excellent food, and each other’s company. Until they had once again got into the prickly subject of their research.

He was loath to spoil the peace and serenity of this outing with an argument. He had planned the picnic as a way of mending fences with Kalli. Alas, he had already started it. And he knew she would not shy away from it.

“The brain scans you are interpreting as love could be nothing more than attraction and lust.” He darted a quick glance at her, unsure how she would receive this statement.

A brief frown appeared between her eyebrows. “I don’t discount that there is that. But the presence of oxytocin is proof that there are feelings of closeness, a deeper attachment. In other words, love.”

“And that’s the thing. There’s a big leap from deeper attachment to this feeling of deep, abiding, all-encompassing love you are describing. I feel attachment towards my parbot.” He shrugged.

“And yet, your scans showed no signs of oxytocin. I wonder if they are the same now,” she mused, eyeing him speculatively.

Icy dread shot through him, and he stiffened, bolting up straight. “Don’t even think about scanning me and subjecting me to your analysis.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Dariux,” she replied calmly, looking him straight in the eyes. “That was our agreement, and I wouldn’t violate its terms or invade your privacy without permission.”

He relaxed fractionally. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It is just...”

“You don’t need to explain. You have a right to your privacy. But I wonder. What do you have against love, anyway?”

“I already told you. It is an unstable emotion. If it even exists.” How could he get her off the damned subject?

“Of course it exists! There are thousands of years of literature, and at least three centuries of video footage expounding on it.”

He snorted. “Like that is proof of anything. Most of that literature and footage are fiction. You realize that, don’t you? People were making it up.”

“Even if the stories were fictional, they were based on reality. The emotions would not have been fabricated.”

“Be that as it may, a lot of atrocities have been committed in the name of love. And your own reading shows how unstable it is. Take, for example, Mrs. Johnson. In the first reading we got from her, she had no trace of oxytocin in her system. And she seemed perfectly normal. Later, we got a second reading on her, and her levels of oxytocin and all the other hormones were through the roof. Yet she didn’t seem the happier for it. If anything, she looked downright miserable.”

“Yes, I wonder what happened to her...maybe, she encountered someone at the ball.” Kalli’s eyes lit with enthusiasm, as she was prone to do when discussing love stuff. “Maybe she met an old lover.”

He groaned. “Do you want to write a fictional story, or adhere to the data and the scientific method?”

“The scientific method involves making conjectures. Anyway, we have gone off on a tangent. You haven’t told me why you think love is dangerous and are so against it.”

Here we go again.

“Maybe the better question is, why are you so pro love? Aren’t you happy with parbots? With your life? Look at all you have accomplished. I doubt you would have been as successful in your career if you had invested your time in relationships and marriage. What is this obsession with love?”

She looked down. Her slim fingers played with a perfect strawberry. It looked like a tiny heart. In the end, she cradled it in her palm and looked at him.

“My parents had a love match.” She said it almost defiantly, as if she expected him to mock them.

“And?” he prompted. He sensed there was more to the story.

“Nothing. That’s it. All my life, my childhood memories are of their love. How devoted they were to each other. They loved me too, of course. But there was almost a visible connection between them. It was incredible. They knew what the other was feeling, thinking. When my father got sick...” She stopped, and he saw her delicate neck ripple as she swallowed.

“When he got sick, my mother nursed him day and night. She was tireless, selfless. She wouldn’t let anybody else relieve her burden. She would just smile and say she was happiest when she was doing something for him. And there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him. She researched his disease, tried to find a cure. She barely slept. Sometimes I feared she wouldn’t survive his death.”

“I’m sorry, Kalli. It must have been tough for you and your mother to lose him.”

Tears rolled down her face, but a little wishful smile played about her lips. “It was. She was never the same again. It was as if her light had dimmed to half the intensity. But she overcame her grief a lot better than I thought she would.”

“And you?”

She shrugged. “I still miss him, of course.”

“How long ago did your father pass?”

“Fifteen years. I was finishing my second year of college but dropped out to be with my parents.”

“And your mother didn’t want a replacement parbot? They existed back then. In fact, one of the first uses of the technology was to help people deal with the loss of a loved one.”

“Never. She wouldn’t hear of it. She said a robot could never take the place of my father. That to even try was a travesty and an insult to his memory.”

“And that is why you oppose parbots.” It made sense. Even if he didn’t agree with her. His experience was different, but he could see how, from her perspective, parbots would never measure up.

“Not really. In fact, at first, I even suggested it to my mom. Tried to convince her to get a replacement parbot. Heck, I needed one too! Someone who looked, talked, and felt like my dad. I missed him so much that I would have embraced it.”

“Then why didn’t you get one? I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“My mother convinced me. You see, Dariux, what they had was so special. It was more than physical, more than what can be measured. It was a soul-deep connection. A bond so strong that not even death could undo it. And I realized I wanted that. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to find it.”

She looked down and tucked a stray strand of her fiery hair behind her ear.

“And yet, this love, this connection, it seems painful.” He said it gently, trying not to imbue any judgment into his tone.

“It can be. But when things go well... it is magical. Transcendent. It lights people up with an inner joy that is difficult to describe. I feel as if I’ll only be half living until I find it.”

He was at a loss for words. She had a way of making the most dangerous, potentially ugly emotion feel desirable.

And what about you? I already told you my reasons for being pro-love, as you call it. You keep evading the question. I’m not going to rest until I find out why you are so anti-love.

Her determined gaze told him she meant it. Damn!