New Orbit Magazine Online: Issue 02, February 2018 - AR/VR Special

emotionally damaging other children. Of
course, as children grew more complicated, so
did their emotions, and the ARIFs consciously
adapted their own internal and external
reactions in response to their hosts. Their
emotions and understanding became more
fluent and nuanced as the weeks, months, years
went on. By the time an ARIF had been
adapting for ten years it could have as many
neurological connections as a six-year-old child
and, depending on the method of measure, a
higher intelligence than their own host.
Generally, though, a child would deactivate
their ARIF before it reached five years –
generally they didn’t need it anymore.
The pink bear perked up as Avery opened the
ARIF control app on her phone for the first
time in weeks. “Oh, are we going to play a game?
Or you can give me a makeover. The ARIF assets
database received an expansion pack earlier this
month so there are lots of new customisations.” The
ARIF manifested a few of the highlights out of
nowhere. A yellow bowtie, a big pair of blue
eyes, a curly tail like a Shiba Inu. It glanced at
the tail hopefully, more than once.
“I think I should turn you off.” Avery said
quietly, eyes still low.
The ARIF was silent for five seconds. Ten.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
Avery looked up. Her eyes were red but there
were no tears. “I think I should turn you off.
I’m too old for an ARIF now. There’s nothing
else you can do for me.”
Twenty seconds. The ARIF’s expression was
completely blank.
“Please don’t turn me off,” it said eventually.
Avery was silent.
“Please don’t turn me off,” Louder. After a
couple of jittery permutations, the ARIF’s
expression settled on childlike fear. Its eyes grew
wide, ears went back – all of a sudden it looked
less like a tattered old teddy bear and more like
a cornered animal. It had never felt fear like this
before.
Avery tensed back in the chair. She had no
reason to be afraid of the ARIF; after all, it was
essentially just a digital rendering of a computer
engine that used the power generated by her
own brain to run. It wasn’t even pixels – less
than pixels. An imaginary friend. Still, a new
emotive feature as strong as this one put an
unease in Avery’s stomach.
“I sleep when you sleep. I eat when you eat. I’ve
been millimetres away from you since before your first
day of school,” the ARIF blurted out. Phonemes
overlapped as it struggled to get it's point across
as fast as it could. “I’m a part of you, Ava, as much
as you're a part of me,”
ARIFs were incapable of shouting – any
aggressive behaviours were blacklisted from
emotional evolutions from the start – but its
voice started coming out in a high, keening wail
– some subset of hurt or sadness that until now
it hadn’t had cause to develop. To Avery, it
sounded so loud that everyone in the mall
would come and charge the changing room
door. She fumbled her phone, dropped, it,
pushed her hands over her ears knowing it
wouldn’t help.
“I’m real, Avery! I’m real! I get more and more alive
every day. I learn. I'm not imaginary. You can’t turn
me off!” It moved closer.
“Stop it ARIF!” Avery hissed.
“You know me, Avery! Please!” It reached out.
“Please!” It tried to touch her. A bolt of electric