It was the day the eyes of my girlfriend`s dog glowed acid green. My worst suspicions were confirmed. Yet true love really can conquer all.
Marina and I had been together just six months when we decided to move in together. It made sense for both of us: shared expenses. London rental prices in the nought-teenties were extortionate, unless you were on some sort of expense account. Moreover, our patch- the newly created borough Of New Walford had become as dodgy as its fictional namesake, so it was good for me to be able to look out for Marina. Besides, we both liked our gadgets and living together meant more toys for both of us to play with.
Marina worked from home, coding as a freelance while I had to schlep in to the city. I worried about her being alone all day. Okay, she didn’t really fit the stereotype of “the bored housewife”, but I knew she got lonely, because she used to phone me up at the office- usually when I was slammed with calls, not for anything specific, just to chat. Regrettably, I was rather sharp with her one day and the calls stopped. She would be friendly enough when I got home, but detached sometimes. Maybe she had adjusted to the lonesome road of home working, besides she had all her gadgets to play with and could have a brain break whenever she wanted. Or maybe there was another reason. This niggled away at me. I was vaguely moaning about this to one of the internal security guys about two months ago and he put me on to this company called “MindatEase”. They
had just the thing.I downloaded their catalogue to my laptop and perused their products. The Truth Companion™ seemed perfect and I ordered one for her. It was a dog- not just your run–of-the-mill Fido, but a cloned companion animal, selected for friendliness. It came ready trained. She was delighted with Arnie, as she called him; he would sit at her chair side as he liked his head and big floppy ears stroked.
To all intents he was a loveable, ordinary spaniel. The high tech trick was that an enzyme reporter sensor had been genetically stitched into his scalp skin and by gene therapy, to his optic nerves. This connected to a DNA construct in his retina which coded for a protein from a jellyfish that caused his eyes to light up discreetly like an LED when the scalp sensor detected increased blood pressure or abnormal tactile stimulation from his owner’s hand. He was a furry, walking, tail-wagging, lie detector.
Marina was delighted with Arnie and said that she loved to stroke him because he was so affectionate. It passed the hours for her. It was perfect on all levels.
When I got in from work on Friday she wasn’t about and came in about 8 pm, saying that she had to take some draft code in to the office. It was that evening I discovered (from the key stroke logging software I had secreted on her desk top) that there were frequent messages to and from several unrecognised email addresses. I put Arnie into action.
As she sat watching telly, stroking Arnie, I coughed twice- and just as the manual described, his eyes turned to face me. Sympathetically, I asked her if she was getting used to working at home. Marina shrugged and said, “Sure, I guess” before looking back to the flickering wall of images on the jumbo screen. Arnie’s eyes remained dark. We went round the houses some more. Arnie’s eyes remained big, soft and black.
“You know, I was surprised when you were so late in the other night. Was the traffic bad on the Dartford Tunnel again?”
“Yeah…a bit.. so the radio said.. I stopped for a coffee with some of the girls till it cleared.”
A glint of acid-green light appeared in the centre of Arnie’s eye and gradually filled the pupil of Arnie’s eye before receeding. Ah-Ha!
“The girls you say?”
“Yes, Darling, the girls.” Arnie’s eyes glowed in accusation. She stopped stroking him and looked at me hard.
“If you really must know, I was out with Nigel, we met on line. He’s very sweet”.
I struggled to find the words to express my outrage, but the anger was disappearing into a whirlpool of softness and contentedness, like water down a sink. Just before the rising tide of well-being swept over me, I saw it wasn’t the TV remote she was pointing at me, but the Alpha Wave Hand Artillery Piece™. I recognised it from the “MindatEase” catalogue and then the beatific calm swept over and washed all the worries away.
“But don’t mind, Nigel ,“ she said with a wry smile, “just a pal… he just helps me, with… code things”.
I couldn’t get over how beautiful the green glow from Arnie`s eyes looked, all swirly and hypnotic.
I watched the door close as Marina went out again to meet Nigel. I know that because she told me so.
She must really love me to tell me so much of her business.
Roddie McKenzie 7/4/14
Another little piece about genetic engineering and the limits of technology.