As it turned out, anyone who stuck it out until the very end was entitled to a bus ride to a sponsor-hosted afterparty. It was pitched as an "informal setting to network with other couples and build business connections." After all, when else would you get the chance to cross paths with such a random mix of people, given how trapped most adults are in their own industry bubbles?
Christina and I mutually decided that going was a terrible idea. For starters, we were impostors. And secondly, the couple we'd lied to about being observers was heading straight for it. But just as we reached the hallway near the exit, a guy wearing a blazer and an administrator's badge cut us off.
It felt like we were about to get chewed out and handed a massive scandal. Which, ironically, was exactly the meltdown Christina had been aiming for. I even secretly hit record on my phone.
Instead, we were led into a remarkably cozy room lined with bookshelves and plush armchairs, looking less like a security office and more like a therapist's den.
"A rare antique," I joked as the administrator stepped out to fetch the person in charge.
Christina let out a low whistle, clearly impressed by the decor.
Five minutes later, a middle-aged man with a round bald spot walked in, greeted us warmly, introduced himself, and shook our hands. He sank into an empty armchair and explained that the "Observers," which turned out to be an AI network linked to the auditorium's cameras, had detected a behavioral anomaly in our case.
"No, no, not at all!" The correction specialist rushed to reassure us the moment Christina opened her mouth to lay her cards on the table. According to him, there was nothing wrong with us, and we weren't in any trouble. He said it was obvious we were drawn to each other, but we were "flying past one another at high velocity, like two electrons in a miscalibrated collider, generating a localized magnetic storm." He added that our participation had been the most vibrant in the whole hall, inspiring other couples to be bolder with their own exercises. In short, we were stellar candidates. So how would we feel about participating in an official research study for UKARI?
While we sat there processing the shock of this bizarre offer, the specialist laid out the perks for participating couples. The level of involvement varied, ranging from full observation to simple survey tests. The rewards scaled accordingly, from one-off payouts to permanent benefits that outperformed even those given to large families. And yes, complete data privacy was guaranteed. Only the core UKARI algorithm would know our actual identities, and even the system engineers had zero access, since the encryption key was stored entirely inside the neural network itself. The only thing that ever leaked out was raw statistics. Meaning the pushy recruiters outside actually knew more about us than the staff at UKARI did.
"And what would we actually have to do?" Christina asked, holding her cards close for now.
I played along, putting on an interested face.
Nothing extra, he assured us. Just allow UKARI to observe us and gather direct human feedback instead of relying on raw big data. Nobody wanted a repeat of the overfitting crisis, but everyone wanted the system to work faster and smarter.
The "faster" part was clearly an argument he'd saved for last. He'd obviously glanced at our psychological profiles and realized neither of us had any patience. So much for that guaranteed privacy.
"This is data you published about yourselves publicly," he clarified smoothly. "However, if you agree to participate, UKARI might approve your personalized wedding timeline in three months instead of six."
"Why not tomorrow?" Christina snapped back. Her combat mode was officially online, and I could feel her tension radiating as if it were my own.
"That is strictly up to UKARI. We can't mandate its decisions," the specialist shrugged. "It determines the optimal route on its own. All I know is that it processes couples much faster when they grant greater system transparency. If you're open to it, we can place you in one of our observation suites right now and measure how quickly UKARI adjusts your family plan."
"What if we aren't a family?" Christina launched her attack.
"Doesn't matter. UKARI doesn't care about your sex life. It plays the long game. Observing you live for twenty-four hours will yield more real data than your entire prior history, helping it identify what's holding you back."
"What's holding us back is a systemic error," Christina fired back.
"A bug in UKARI," I clarified.
"Even better!" The specialist surprisingly beamed, practically rubbing his hands together. "Errors are how the system learns."
"You don't understand," Christina countered. "We were never supposed to be paired up in the first place."
She launched into a full complaint about how the support staff had ignored her tickets and basically treated her like an idiot.
"This is an absolute goldmine!" The specialist's face lit up even more. "The Observers double as an early-warning and prevention network. Now it makes total sense why it flagged you two so intensely. You see, statistically, UKARI errs very rarely, but that small percentage still represents a lot of people whose personal lives get derailed. Most couples filing for divorce won't even sit on the same couch together like you two are doing right now, let alone attend a refresher marriage seminar..."
"This is our first time," I interjected, remembering that Christina No. 1 was precisely one of those people whose life had been thrown off track. Sure, thanks to UKARI's glitch, I was currently dating No. 1, but that didn't erase the actual damage done. And thanks to my laziness with No. 2, we didn't get ourselves into the same kind of mess. We just ended up sitting together.
"They can't stand the sight of each other," the specialist continued, analyzing failed marriages. "They just want to erase the other person and forget it like a bad dream. If you lock them in a room, they don't even interact. But UKARI only understands connections."
"Wait, you just said we wouldn't have to do anything," Christina caught the inconsistency immediately.
"That's different. As you saw in the first half of the lecture, sometimes you don't need to say a word. You two don't treat each other like ghost space, and that's the main thing. You could just sit silently in opposite corners of the room..."
Yeah, right, I thought, exchanging a quick glance with Christina. She definitely knew as well as I did that staying silent together for more than five seconds was physically impossible.
"...and your nonverbals would tell the neural network more than a hundred-page questionnaire," the specialist concluded.
"I don't know, sounds kind of creepy," Christina hesitated. "Could we do this during the day instead?"
"Of course, absolutely," the specialist offered tactfully. He could tell she'd misinterpreted something. Nobody was forcing her to stay overnight, especially right after a lecture on a topic as sensitive as intimacy. "Though, on the other hand, UKARI would make a decision much faster while the iron is hot. While your impressions are still fresh, UKARI's neurons are firing at full capacity. Don't you want to get your issue resolved as quickly as possible? But again, I'm just proposing, not pushing."
"Just like a pushy pop-up ad," I chimed in, stepping in to shield Christina from the sales pitch and draw his focus onto me. "I need to talk this over with Christina first."
"Of course, of course," the specialist agreed smoothly, sliding two business cards across the table. "Whenever you decide, just let me know. I'd be glad to help anytime. We operate twenty-four seven."
Once we got outside, I dialed Christina No. 1 and switched on the video call.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey!" Christina No. 2 barged into the frame. "Move over."
"Hey, guys," Christina No. 1 joined the call.
"Look at how fat your face has gotten," Christina No. 2 pressed her cheek against mine. "Pretty soon you won't even fit on the screen..."
I rotated the phone horizontally, and Christina No. 2 leaned back.
"We're all done. Survived the ordeal," she reported to No. 1.
"You guys took forever," No. 1 grumbled, sounding a bit annoyed.
"We even passed on the afterparty," I added. "They had all these promoters pushing luxury hotels on us."
"Ours had promoters too, but we wrapped up by nine-thirty," No. 1 said, a flicker of jealousy creeping into her voice.
"Well, they dragged us into overtime," No. 2 cut in before I could answer. "They wanted to lock me in a room with him and host a little Hunger Games setup for UKARI."
"That's terrifying," No. 1 said, her brow furrowing.
"She's exaggerating," I chimed in to de-escalate. "They acknowledged the glitch, but they want UKARI to figure out where it went wrong so they can lower divorce rates. They just need to observe us for a bit."
"Honestly, I'm not thrilled about it either," Christina No. 2 continued, needlessly fanning the flames. "They'll cut off all our contact with the outside world. I'll lose my mind from pure boredom in a single day."
Actually, she had a point. It definitely wasn't a spa resort, and they'd almost certainly confiscate our phones. Still, maybe they'd at least have a TV in there.
"Anyway," I jumped back in, "if we agree to this, our issue gets fixed way faster. We'd be dealing directly with..." I pulled out the business card. "...a Senior Research Fellow in the Department of Cognitive and Behavioral... whatever. Point is, he's higher up than the regular case managers. He can probably resolve the whole glitch with a single click."
"Plus, the perks," Christina No. 2 chipped in. "You'll be marrying a guy with elite multi-child status right out of the gate. But listen, I want a bonus out of you for this. He's your husband, after all."
"Well, I guess I could..." No. 1 started.
"A kiss," Christina No. 2 interrupted.
I could see Christina No. 1 starting to panic on screen.
"I want to see him put today's lecture materials into practice on you," Christina No. 2 finished her thought. "Even if it's just over video. You guys showed me that one demo and then completely forgot about me."
Christina No. 1 turned beet red.
"I mean, how are you two planning to kiss at the wedding?" Christina No. 2 delivered the knockout punch. "Consider it a dress rehearsal."
"It wasn't like that," Christina No. 1 tried to justify herself.
"Let's just record a video for her," I suggested. "We'll send one that isn't completely embarrassing."
"I don't want to be recorded," No. 1 explained. "I'd have to do my makeup just to look halfway decent on camera."
"Ah, never mind. Forget it," Christina No. 2 gave up. "I was just teasing anyway. Just send me some photos later from your trip."
I turned and stared at Christina No. 2.
"What?" she asked, taking a second to catch on. "I assumed you realised the moment we booked the couple's ticket. For the cruise voucher, they only needed our first names, Alex and Christina. And she's a Christina too."
"What about the last name?"
"They put your last name down for both of us. They assume we're getting married and keeping the voucher as a keepsake. It's supposed to be romantic, being 'husband and wife' before the actual marriage certificate is issued. Like they're the first ones to officially recognize us. Well, recognize you two."
"I thought you just did that as a cover," I admitted, realizing how blind I'd been, before shifting my focus back to Christina No. 1.
"First they make a system error," Christina No. 1 began to complain, "and now they're planning to run experiments on my future husband. I really don't like this."
"Well, then we just won't go," No. 2 beat me to the punch again.
"And then our problem never gets fixed at all," No. 1 grumbled. "I just hate it because I had a bad experience before... with my ex," No. 1 clarified carefully, walking on eggshells so as not to hurt my feelings. "The therapists only made things worse. So, Christina, honestly? Go with him instead. I'll actually feel better knowing they won't brainwash him without me there."
"I'll return him in one piece," Christina No. 2 smiled.
"Oh, right. The scientist also mentioned we could get married sooner if UKARI gets a proper scan of me," I added, tossing in one last incentive.
Christina smiled back at me through the screen. Two minutes later, we finished our call.
"All right, let's go," Christina No. 2 pulled on my arm, heading back toward the building.
"Where? Right now? At night?" I checked the time on my phone.
"The sooner we get locked up, the sooner we get bailed out." Christina No. 2 stopped to let me process it. "Unless you feel like going home, packing, and dragging yourself all the way back here tomorrow?"
"I have to let my parents know."
"Let what's-his-name, the senior scientist, deal with that," Christina No. 2 smirked. "Besides, he said himself we're entitled to full perks."
"You've actually got a point," I agreed, but then another problem hit me. "Wait... we didn't tell Christina we were doing the overnight option."
"Ignorance is bliss. You don't want her stressing out, do you?" She paused, looking at me. "Look, I get it. You love her and you want to be completely open with her, but do the thinking for her this once. They're locking us in a room for twenty-four hours. We're spending a night together no matter what. If we start with the night, she's going to spend the whole time working herself up into a jealous frenzy. But if she thinks we're only checking in tomorrow morning, she won't start worrying until tomorrow night, by which time we'll already be free. You can just call her before she even gets a chance to start spiraling. Profit?"
"I guess you're right," I admitted. It actually sounded like a solid plan. Christina No. 1 had a world-class talent for making a mountain out of a molehill.
"Besides," she added, turning on her heel, "if the whole thing falls through anyway, the least they can do is pay for a taxi to drop us off at home."