Perfect Match

A tale where an AI chooses your romantic partner

forced marriage - Substack

Perfect Match

William M. Carter

The alarm pierced through Linda's head at exactly 6:30 AM, her Digital Connect Wrist glowed with a green light. This meant another day of mandatory social interactions were waiting for her. She stared at the cracked ceiling of her studio apartment, listening to the buildings air purifying system kick in.

Three faces materialized on her tablet screen; each man selected with the precision of algorithmic matchmaking. Mandated dating.

Linda rolled onto her side, pressing her face into the thin pillow that reeked of industrial detergent. Through the paper-thin walls, she could hear Mrs. Patterson next door going through her mandated sex routine with her assigned companion, Mr. Rodriguez. Their after-sex conversation followed the same script every day, using the practiced scripts of government-approved small talk.

Linda’s Connect Wrist buzzed with an announcement. Citizens had exactly twelve minutes to acknowledge their daily assignments or face immediate intervention from the Department of Social Harmony. The penalties escalated quickly, first a deduction from their Social Wellness Score, then mandatory counseling sessions, and finally isolation therapy until proper compliance is restored.

Linda had never missed an acknowledgment. She was a perfect citizen of New America, where the chaos of dating relationships had been removed by applying an AI solution.

But today Linda felt different.

Eleven minutes remaining.

Linda began thinking about Michael Thompson, her assigned romantic partner. He was 6-foot, dark hair, pleasant demeaner, and worked in the airline industry. and enjoyed approved recreational activities like chess and classical music. Moreover, he maintained optimal physical fitness scores and shared ninety percent of Linda’s main character traits according to the AI profiling conducted on every citizen.

Their relationship advanced exactly as the AI required. They had shared their first assigned kiss after thirty-nine scheduled interactions. Physical intimacy had been introduced at the statistically optimal moment three months later. Michael had submitted his formal partnership proposal last week, right on schedule according to the relationship timeline generated by the Department of Social Harmony.

Everything was perfect. Everything was exactly as it should be.

So why did Linda feel like she was suffocating?

Ten minutes remaining.

The memory came to the front of her mind, as it had every morning for the past month. She had been running late to her scheduled work session with Jennifer Davis when a malfunction in the transport system had stranded her in Area 37, an older district that hadn't been fully modernized during the Great Restructuring of 2041.

She had ducked into a small repair shop to wait out the delay, and that's where she had met him.

Jake Martinez had been fixing an ancient coffee machine, his sleeves rolled up, hands stained with grease and completely focused on his work. When he looked up and smiled, Linda felt something she had never experienced in any of her algorithmically optimized interactions, genuine surprise.

"This coffee maker older than both of us combined," he said, gesturing at the device. "Sometimes the old stuff works better than all the modern improvements."

They talked for forty-seven minutes. Linda had missed not only her work session but her evening social period with Robert Johnson. Jake didn't reach for his Connect Wrist to exchange compatibility data, and he hadn’t referenced approved conversation topics or monitored his speech patterns for optimal social harmony ratings.

He was dangerous to society’s perfect order system, yet authentic.

Nine minutes remaining.

Lindas's door chimed with the familiar tone that announced an approved visitor. Through the security monitor, she saw Michael Thompson standing in the hallway, his Connect Wrist synchronized with hers displaying their scheduled morning interaction. His expression showed mild concern and was probably wondering why she hadn't confirmed their required meeting yet.

"Linda, is everything okay?" His voice carried the careful modulation taught in Social Harmony Training, designed to promote calm and reduce interpersonal conflict. "Your confirmation is running a bit late this morning."

She pressed her back against the door, closing her eyes. Michael was everything the system promised, he was kind, stable, perfectly suited to provide her with optimal life satisfaction. The Department of Social Harmony spent twenty years finalizing human compatibility by removing the dirtiness and volatility that had made relationships so problematic in the old-world order.

Divorce had been eliminated. Workplace disputes were virtually nonexistent. Citizens reported higher levels of life satisfaction than any generation in recorded history.

So why did Sarah feel so empty inside?

Eight minutes remaining.

"Linda?" Michael's voice carried a note of genuine concern now. "I'm seeing some irregular readings on my Connect Wrist. Should I contact Wellness Services?"

The threat of Wellness Services made Sarah's stomachache. Unscheduled isolation, especially combined with delayed interaction confirmations, triggered automatic mental health interventions. A team would arrive within fifteen minutes, equipped with everything from mood stabilizers to emergency relationship reassignment protocols.

She opened the door.

"Sorry about that," she said, forcing her voice into the approved cheerful tone. "Just had trouble sleeping last night."

Michael's face relaxed, his Connect Wrist automatically syncing with hers and chiming softly to confirm their scheduled interaction. "No problem at all. I thought we could try that new nutrition center in Area 5. The menu is perfectly calibrated for our metabolic profiles, and the environment has been rated optimal for morning romantic bonding, which we both know is required."

Seven minutes until her confirmation window expired, but the sync with Michael had earned her an automatic extension. The system assumed she was simply completing her pre-interaction preparation routine.

"That sounds wonderful," Linda heard herself say, even as her thoughts drifted to Jake Martinez and his easy laugh, the way his eyes had lit up when she had asked about his work. "Just give me a few minutes to get ready?"

"Of course." Michael took his designated position by her door, pulling out his Connect Wrist to review their relationship progress metrics while he waited.

She closed the door and leaned against it, her heart racing. Outside her window, the sprawling complex of New America displayed cloned rows of housing blocks with perfectly planned districts laid out with mathematical precision. Somewhere in the endless array of identical structures, Jake was receiving his own daily assignments, being guided toward his-approved romantic connections.

She wondered if he ever thought about their conversation, about the way he had talked about fixing things with his hands instead of replacing them with newer, more efficient models. Linda wondered if he felt the same strange restlessness she did, the sense that there was something missing from their carefully crafted lives.

Five minutes remaining.

Linda accessed her Connect Wrist's settings, scrolling past the acknowledgment button to a section she had never explored, Relationship Modification Requests. The form stretched across multiple screens, requiring detailed psychological assessments, extensive justification essays, and a waiting period that could extend for months. At the bottom, a warning that made her take notice.

Note: Citizens requesting modification of algorithm-approved relationships may be exhibiting symptoms of Social Harmony Disorder. All requests are subject to mandatory psychological evaluation and corrective treatment protocols.

Four minutes remaining.

She thought about Jake's calloused hands, and how being with him had felt natural. Linda also thought about Michael, waiting patiently outside her door. He was a good man whose only crime was being chosen for her by a computer instead of her heart. She thought about her parents, perfectly matched at sixteen and married at seventeen, who went through the motions of their assigned love with the efficiency of robots.

Three minutes remaining.

Linda's finger hung over the send button. One tap, and her day would turn out exactly as the system planned. She would eat breakfast with Michael, and converse about pre-approved topics while their Connect Wrists observed their interaction value for continuing romance optimization. Later she would team up with Jennifer Davis on plans designed to make the most of her vocational advancement potential. Linda would then meet up with Robert Johnson and participate in friendship activities proven to boost mutual emotional well-being.

It would be a perfect day, identical to thousands of others stretching into her perfectly planned future, all created by the Match Maker AI

Two minutes remaining.

The wrist device started blinking red, the warning signal that a protocol violation was fast approaching. Outside her door, she could hear Michael tapping his foot, undoubtedly seeing the same warning indicators on his own device.

"Linda? My device is displaying a danger protocol. Is everything alright?"

One minute remaining.

Sarah closed her eyes and remembered Jake's words about the old coffee machine. "Sometimes the old stuff works better than all the modern AI driven products." The algorithm knew everything about her preferences, her psychology, her optimal life path. But it had never accounted for the part of her that yearned for something unmeasured, the analog part that wanted to choose her own way of living. instead of being optimized by robot intelligence.

Thirty seconds remaining.

"I'm going to have to file a wellness report if…"

Her eyes flung open, and she tapped the send button.

The Connect Wrist's glow shifted from panic red to normal green. Linda heard Michael exhale as his device confirmed their synchronized status.

"False alarm," she called through the door, her voice calm despite the anxious tremor in her hands. "Just a minor system glitch. I'll be right out."

But as she began preparing for another perfect day in her optimized life, she made a decision that would change everything. Tonight, after her required interactions were complete, Linda would find her way back to that repair shop in Area 37.

It was time to discover what the algorithm didn't know about love.

The Department of Social Harmony had eliminated chaos from human relationships. But they had never accounted for the human need to choose that chaos freely.

Linda was about to remind them that some things couldn't be optimized away.

Love is analog. How can a digital AI measure it?

The End of Part One