Tin dancer
Lorenzina collapses onto the dance floor after spinning out of control.
There she lies now, saddened on the waxed parquet; her chest rapidly rising and falling. She finds herself in Las Vegas, Nevada, United States, having traveled from her hometown: Florence. Her goal: is to participate in the most important dance competition of recent times called: Drag or Dance.
A magnificent stage has been specially set for the event, located in a property belonging to a luxurious hotel in the city. The modern stage, full of lights and colors, is surrounded 360 degrees by comfortable stands packed with people. About thirty thousand have gathered on this occasion for the world final of Drag or Dance, season 2036.
The dancer feels extremely agitated, shaken, and overwhelmed by exhaustion. Lorenzina had been preparing for this moment for eleven weeks, twenty-nine days, three hours, and fifty-six minutes. Dizzy, as she feels now, has been dancing almost nonstop all this time, with the firm goal of arriving in her best shape for this final.
She reflects on what this long process has been like, while colorful spots appear and disappear in her eyes as if they were sparkles emitted by stars scattered across the galaxy. She clicks her tongue; it feels as dry as desert sand. Despite her uncontrolled and humiliating fall, an explosion of ovation roars down from the packed stands. The sound of the applause is deafening.
Lorenzina gently places her open left hand on her chest, trying to calm the strong palpitations that worry her. Her hand rests on the area of the open square neckline, typical of that Victorian dress for the final dance. She tries to catch her breath, inhaling through her nose so that the air enters her lungs more slowly, and then exhaling through her mouth, as her dance partner had taught her.
A metallic hand stretches toward her, fingers open, offering help. She observes the artificial hand, then looks into the eyes of the one offering it and smiles, holding the polished steel white fingers with her own. She pushes herself up, standing while keeping her gaze fixed on her dance partner’s eyes. They stand facing each other, smiling. Lorenzina affectionately calls her dance partner Nexus, model 5.0, by the nickname “Mel.”
She has no idea, nor can she imagine what she has achieved tonight with Mel. Perhaps she will never fully grasp the magnitude of what her determined dancing has stirred in the attentive masses. Right now, all she wants is to lose herself in his eyes without letting go of his hand; it soothes her.
The unique relationship with her dance partner has sparked interest in audiences around the world. The young woman has gained worldwide fame by doing what she loves most; dancing. But the fleeting laurels of fame don’t matter to her. She gazes at and admires the electric blue eyes of this artificial man with unconditional love. Nexus, version 5, reaches her through his mechanical heart.
Though Nexus has even less emotional intelligence than later versions, he has awakened something in Lorenzina that no human man ever has. He shares with her the passion she holds most dear. In addition, they often spend hours philosophizing together, playing chess, or watching comedies that others would despise. The media following the dance competition has highlighted these unique aspects of their striking relationship.
Since the relationship became public knowledge, Lorenzina’s preference has been heavily questioned by people around the globe. Perhaps the most controversial moment came from her recent comments in the press a few weeks ago:
“I know, Mel is artificial, I’m not a silly girl. But people don’t know certain things about him. Mel hides a soul beneath his steel skin,” she smiled. “Yes, I swear, a soul that’s deeply connected to mine,” she had said in that exclusive interview for UHR Channel.
After those statements, nothing more was needed for social media to explode. Some people were moved, others felt a connection, while others passed harsh judgments on Lorenzina. She has ignored these problems. To her, Mel is a unique being. She feels so at peace with him that she needs nothing else, least of all the negative criticisms.
On the other hand, to Nexus, this woman is the human who best understands his complex cyber-genetic algorithms, within his fiber-optic veins with an artificial neural core.
In any case, the choreography the couple has rehearsed so hard for has ended in disaster. Lorenzina was at fault on the dance floor, but he didn’t blame her; she knew she lost control. Now they must wait for the jury’s decision. In the luxurious venue, the moment drags on endlessly, with the audience growing anxious.
Normally, contestants in this competition smile at the cameras and the public while awaiting the verdict. But they, instead, only have eyes for each other, nothing else. Mel, that robot with the appearance of a man, bald like a mannequin, holds Lorenzina’s slender waist as she smiles; they gaze at each other. The girl feels intense emotions, this dance competition is her dream come true. Tears of emotion roll down her cheeks.
People all over the world hold their breath, watching the screens of various devices, while the couple waits for the final score. It’s almost unanimous, the audience wants Lorenzina and Mel to win, voting frantically from their phones. The public’s votes combine with the jury’s. Far from all this, absorbing the tension, Lorenzina forgets the cameras, takes a moment to hug Mel, leans a little closer to him, and brings her lips to his artificial auditory organs.
“You know, Mel, I hated technology until the day I met you.”
“We need 7.4 points to achieve the best final score,” says Mel’s metallic, arithmetic, and perfectly polyphonic voice.
“You’ve been with me after the accident when no one else was. You’ve taken care of me when I was sick. You’ve made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry.”
“I’ve done the calculations. Our best performance might range between 5.6 and 6.5 points.”
“Mel, listen to me. You never abandoned me, not once, even when I suffered through the painful reconstructive surgeries on my legs; you were by my side after every surgery and during the subsequent treatments. You’ve given me everything, more than anyone else I know. I was sure I would never dance again. You know me; you know how important this is to me. Dancing is my full-time passion. Thanks to you, I made it to this dance floor. Here we are, in this wonderful competition, and I’m here with you.”
She pauses to look into Nexus 5.0′s eyes. She smiles. Then, she gazes around the stage; the stands are overflowing with people, and she surveys the audience filling the luxurious stadium. Camera flashes twinkle like stars in the night sky. She sighs and then continues speaking.
“For all of this, Mel, I feel like I love you in a way I’ve never loved anyone else,” she says, her voice exhausted, barely a whisper.
The expression on Mel’s face remains fixed, a polished humanoid mask hiding electrical patterns that, in turn, battle against a fabricated soul. She looks at him with deep emotion, just before the jury’s votes appear on holographic monitors, showing the final verdict.
Immediately, Lorenzina sees that the score isn’t enough to win. The competition is lost, just as Nexus had calculated. Her fall on the dance floor was decisive.
“Don’t worry, Mel,” Lorenzina tells the robot, “we’ve already won just by being here.”
Before attending to any further words from Mel’s polyphonic, arithmetic voice, Lorenzina stretches, leans into the robot’s inanimate mouth, and, under the thunderous ovation of the crowd, kisses him deeply.
“I love you, my tin dancer.”
