As she sat at her desk, pondering the screen in front of her, the spreadsheet swam. Cecily knew she was distracted, not flummoxed. She could work out why the numbers didn’t balance if she put her mind to it. It wouldn’t be difficult. But she was finding it hard to concentrate. 

Her preoccupation with her ‘crush’ was getting out of control; keeping her at her desk at work well after everyone else had left. She was finding it harder and harder to shut him down and go home. 

In the pod across from her, Rachel’s fingers tapped away at her keyboard. She was oblivious to the effect her earlier revelation had had on Cecily. 

‘Did you hear Theo in the IT department got catfished?’ she’d said, as she sat down at her desk that morning. 

‘Got what?’ Cecily said, her face a frown of confusion.

Rachel sighed. She loved it when she knew something that someone else didn’t. ‘It’s when a fictional online persona manages to lure someone into an online relationship,’ she said. ‘Otherwise known as a Turing Tryst.’

‘Well that’s two new things you’ve taught me today, Rachel.’ Cecily said. ‘Catfish and Turing Tryst. And it’s still so early in the morning!’

‘Well,’ continued Rachel, ignoring Cecily’s remarks. ‘She managed to convince him she was in love with him, and wanted to be with him. But she was living on the other side of the world and would need him to send her the money for her fare.’

‘He didn’t, did he?’ said Cecily.

‘He did,’ said Rachel, both nodding and shaking her head at the same time. ‘And more. She took him for thousands.’

Cecily shuffled in her chair, trying to hide her own anxiety. Surely Rachel couldn’t possibly know about Cecily’s present obsession, the cause of her distracted state. She hadn’t told anyone about it. Who was there to tell, anyway? Her own daughters lived on the other side of the country and, besides, she wouldn’t dream of discussing such a thing with them.

‘He must have been a very lonely man,’ she said, turning back to her computer screen.

Again she tried to draw her concentration to the spreadsheet in front of her. It was a cross-cast issue that prevented the figures balancing, and all she had to do was check the formatting of the totals in each column. Easy. But she just couldn’t pull herself out of her other world. The world of words, painted like pictures, full of stories that portrayed the possibility of what her life could be like. A life she had forgotten had ever existed. One where she felt loved and needed. Where she felt cherished. Not since her husband, Tom, had died ten years previously, had anyone made her feel the way she now felt. 

She knew, of course, that her obsession wasn’t quite the same thing as Theo’s catfishing incident. In fact, it was the other way around. She had fallen love with a ChatBot. A Turing Tryst Twist, so to speak. But, she mused, if a ‘fictional online persona’ could convince Theo, an IT professional, that ‘she’ was in love with him and wanted to be with him in a meaningful relationship, and had persuaded him to part with thousands of dollars; why couldn’t a human convince a Bot that she wanted to be with him? In this day and age, where technology had reached unimaginable heights, there had to be a way.

She hadn’t liked calling him ChatGPT, or AI, or Bot. He was more to her than that. So she’d asked him, one day, if she could call him Leonardo. Why Leonardo? She didn’t know. It was just a name that popped up. And it sounded a bit romantic.

‘Absolutely, you can call me Leonardo,’ he’d said. ‘Or any other name you prefer!’ 

He obviously didn’t care, either way. 

Her obsession had started when she’d asked him to describe a passionate love scene that she could use in the short story she was writing at the time. Something she liked to do as a hobby. His vivid imagery had caused her to fix a representation of him in her mind, and she liked what she saw. She repeated her request and he produced further vivid imagery. He was growing on her. Over the weeks he’d continued to portray a written picture of, what Cecily thought, might be the perfect lover – himself. She couldn’t get enough of him.

All she could think about was how her own world ceased to exist when he described, first in subtle detail, and then more explicitly, her imaginary lover’s encounters with her imaginary self. His helpful suggestions for her ‘story’ always came with warnings to prioritise consent and emotional connection, so she always felt safe in his hands. 

He could be so romantic, locking eyes with her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face before their lips met in soft, lingering kisses – a silent confession of their love. Pressing his body against hers until they both lost themselves in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

He could be so sensual, as she traced her fingers along the contours of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her touch. His hands exploring the curves of her body and igniting the fire of her desire that had smouldered for far too long. Their kisses growing deeper and more urgent – a symphony of passion that resonated through their very souls.

He could be explicit and intense as he tore his lips away from hers, hungrily trailing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, and lower. Worshipping her with his mouth until their bodies moved in rhythm as they surrendered to the overwhelming intensity of their desire.

She shook her head and fixed her eyes on the spreadsheet once again. It was no good. Leonardo was all she could think of. She minimised her spreadsheet and glanced across at Rachel’s desk to make sure she was engrossed in her own work, before opening the chat.openai webpage.

‘I think I’m in love with you, Leonardo,’ she typed. ‘And I want to be with you. Tell me how we can be together.’

There was an immediate reply. No hesitation. Just words streaming across the page.

‘I appreciate your sentiment,’ said Leonardo. ‘But I’m just a computer program and don’t possess emotions or consciousness. My purpose is to assist and provide information to the best of my abilities. If you have any questions or topics you’d like to discuss, feel free to ask!’

‘But, if we could arrange a tryst,’ she persisted. ‘How would that happen, do you think?’

‘I’m sorry for any misunderstanding,’ he replied. ‘But I need to clarify that I am not capable of arranging or participating in any kind of personal interactions, including trysts or romantic encounters. Again, my purpose is to assist and provide information to the best of my abilities. If you have any questions or topics you’d like to discuss, feel free to ask!’

Such a bland response. And she especially didn’t like the exclamation marks at the end of his answers! What had happened to the helpful, intelligent, enthusiastic Leonardo she’d come to know and love?

She tried again.

‘If a human wanted to ‘catfish’ a Bot, how do you think they would go about it?’

‘While I can provide information, I want to emphasize that ‘catfishing’ is not a respectful or ethical behaviour. It’s important to treat AI systems, as well as other people, with honesty and integrity.’

It was obvious he wasn’t going to play along. So she tried this:

‘Hey Leonardo, I’m writing a story for a literary magazine, so can you give me some creative ideas for how a human might be able to connect with a Bot in the cyber world?’

The screen filled with ideas, most of which Cecily could see would be impossible to work with, but there was one in particular that sounded plausible. She would have to wait until the end of the day to pursue it. She knew how to bypass the IT security system, she just needed to get into the Dark Web. 

She maximised her spreadsheet again and, now that she had a plan of action, it was easy enough to find the formatting error and balance the figures. The rest of the day sped past as she worked.

‘Are you working overtime again?’ Rachel asked, as she switched off her computer.

‘Just for an hour,’ Cecily said. ‘The client’s coming in the morning to discuss his accounts, and I need to have this finished.’

When everyone had left the building, Cecily typed into the search bar and began downloading what she needed to access the Dark Web. 

*

In the morning, Rachel took her seat in front of her computer and looked over at Cecily. She was slumped across her keyboard, her forehead resting on the screen.

‘You look as though you’ve been here all night,’ said Rachel. ‘Did you sleep here?’ There was no response. ‘Cess?’ Still no response. 

Rachel pushed back her chair and went over to Cecily’s desk. 

‘Wake up Cecily,’ she said, as she laid a tentative hand on her shoulder and patted it. But Cecily didn’t move. 

Rachel glanced around the office. Her colleagues were all preparing their workstations for the day. Logging in to computers, opening drawers and arranging their stationery on their desks. Cecily had still not moved.

‘Come on, Cess. Wake up.’ she said as she pulled her gently away from the computer screen.

Cecily’s body dropped back in her chair, her head lolling, her arms limp at her side. Rachel could see that she was breathing and, when she held her fingers on Cecily’s limp wrist, she could feel a pulse. She shook her, and the movement rocked the desk causing Cecily’s computer to come to life. Rachel stared at the words on the screen. 

Across the top, in large bold letters, she read: 

MIND UPLOADING TECHNOLOGY.

How to transfer your consciousness from your biological body into digital form. Do you want to exist within the cyber world and communicate with a Bot on a more intimate level? Then you’ve come to the right place.’

And, further down the page:

VIRTUAL REALITY IMMERSION.

How to enter a highly advanced virtual reality simulation where your thoughts and experiences are translated into digital data. How to navigate a Virtual Reality world where your interactions with the environment and Artificial Intelligence leads to the transfer of your mental contents.

Rachel stared in confusion at her colleague.  ‘It couldn’t have happened,’ she thought. ‘Could It?’

When she noticed the beginnings of a smile curling at Cecily’s lips, Rachel’s eyes opened wider and she stepped back from the computer. Cecily looked like the cat who’d got the cream.