Chapter 2
On the TV, on the news, they’re running a segment on the environmental impacts of AI. Danny knows what it is within a few seconds; the reporter is walking through a dystopian data center talking about carbon emissions.
To this point, it has been a good morning.
Danny woke up; answered a few emails; grabbed coffees on the way in.
Mornings are better for Cal. He gets tired around three, but at nine, when visiting hours start, he’s been awake, alert.
There are moments when Danny even convinces himself Cal is getting better.
Now, Cal is watching the TV with a furrow between his brows. When he spots Danny, there’s a moment—just a flash—of betrayal.
“Hey,” Danny says, setting down the coffees. “How are you doing today?”
“You seen this?” Cal asks. “Pretty crazy stuff.”
“Yeah. It’s not great.”
“Ah,” Cal says. “So, your team knows all this?”
Danny lowers himself into the seat by Cal’s bed.
“Yeah. I mean, AI is energy intensive. Energy-intensive systems tend to emit carbon. But it’s not all bad.
A lot of people out there are using AI to solve climate problems, too.
Figuring out ways to make these systems more efficient.
Less carbon-dependent. So there’s some hope there. ”
“Okay, sure.” Cal pauses. “I guess I’m just a little surprised, is all.”
“About what?”
“Oh, you know. As a kid. You just couldn’t get enough of trees.”
Danny rests his elbows on his knees. “I don’t think it’s a binary choice.”
“No, no,” Cal says. “Of course not. Hey, mind turning that off? I might take a nap. They were in here every hour last night. Couldn’t get a wink.”
Danny turns off the TV and gets his laptop from his bag.
He tries to work, but he does nothing of use.
He keeps thinking about that sentence: You just couldn’t get enough of trees.
Danny doesn’t remember being the kind of kid who couldn’t get enough of trees, but, then again, he did spend his entire childhood among them.
He realizes that it was a gift Cal gave silently: to make nature such a fundamental part of Danny’s life he never imagined growing up without it.
“Hey, Dad?” he says quietly. He wants to thank him for this. Apologize for the news story. Cal doesn’t turn.
His phone dings with a notification from Pattern. It’s a generic push telling him to start a check-in, and he finds it physically impossible not to open it, not to engage. He has nothing to say! He has nothing to ask. He lifts his phone and taps the notification.
Bug: Hi hi! It looks like you haven’t texted or called Eve as much as usual lately. This may indicate a fear response—you’re worried about being alone, so you’re pushing her away prematurely. Want to talk about this?
Danny does not want to talk about this.
Danny: I am not sure that would be productive at this juncture, actually
Bug: What an interesting point! Tell me—what would you consider “productive”?
Danny: Being kind to my relationship. Being happy. Being not alone. I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to know?
Bug: I’ll strive to do better! Sorry to let you down. Would you like to spend more time unpacking what it means to you to be “not alone”?
Danny locks his phone and sets it on the fiberboard side table. Cal is looking at him again—not saying anything, just watching—and when he sees Danny notice, he presses his lips into something nearly the shape of a smile.