“All the wickedness maturing in her soul is not able to mar her image….” – SEMMANT
My secret surveillance took on new meaning; I was fixated on women more than ever before. None escaped my field of vision – dazzling beauties and plain girls-next-door, socialites and carefree faeries, mothers of families laden with concerns, and office bitches with sharp, icy eyes. Each one, it seemed, was driven by her own motivations: career, children, envy and the admiration of friends. But the softest ray, as if on its own, was born inside and would pierce through the clouds. Despite complexes and prohibitions, disappointments and social pressure. I had only to try to capture it, to break it up into its elementary components. To generalize it and turn it into an abstract image.
A new project loomed on the horizon – the boldest of all I had undertaken. The “unsaid something” stopped bothering me – as if I knew I would not let it slip away this time. Again I schemed to create a living thing – but not on paper, as Adele. I thought to make a female robot. Now, what to name it? Why, Eve, of course!
I believed she would turn out clever, well-educated, curious. In her would be no hint of narrow-mindedness, of limitation or laziness of soul. Any sensor would pick up her “light,” even through the computer screen. But there would be none to detect it. I firmly resolved I would show her to no one. She was not for the crowd; she was for me. Never could she be given to the unworthy; this would be my woman – and don’t laugh: I already have a friend like her. I can animate whatever consists of digits, and in her I will grow a genuine soul. She will bring stability to my life, become a permanent stimulus for fulfillment. Perhaps I could say to her what I had never spoken to anyone, ever – except the Siberian twins, who probably don’t count.
I would say to her, “I love you, Eve!”
I would finally grasp why I must declare that.
And I would cease to flounder in search of the nonexistent Gela.
Of course, this was a long-term plan. I understood more clearly than anyone how difficult the task was. How to approach it? Where should they all be placed, so different from one another? To my mind appeared branching universes, multiplicative cascades, a multitude of worlds… The girls in the cafes squinted slyly, shrugging their shoulders, as if knowing my doubts. As if to ask me teasingly: and who, then, might untangle all these worlds?… – SEMMANT
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Winner of the 2015 National Indie Excellence Award for Science Fiction