Author : Duncan Shields, Staff Writer

I hope I like her. I hope I like her.

The Truemate service is just one of the programs. There’s Perfectjob and Opti-health as well.

It’s no utopia but people the world over agree that this system is the best so far. There isn’t much in the way of rebellion. The computer employs the world. The computer divides the resources equally. The computer encourages creativity. The computer has made money obsolete. And the computer gives us true love.

The main thing that defuses potential revolt and allays fears is this: the computer is fair. The creator had the computer write its own security software. No human has been able to crack it or co-opt it so far.

It’s neither communist nor democratic nor totalitarian. It’s something new.

In ten minutes, I’ll be meeting my future wife for the first time.

She was selected for me by the computer based on our likes, dislikes, age, race, family history and biological capability. All of the footage of my life that has been captured on the security cameras was cross referenced with all of my purchases. A record of my PIN-chip movements was plotted. All of my emails were weighed and psychoanalyzed. My productivity was predicted.

A mate was chosen that I would be crazy about and who would be crazy about me.

This process is not enforced but with the plummeting divorce rates and the rise of a new age of stable family units, everyone I know uses the service. It’s an optional part of the basic package we’re all born with. There’s no punishment for refusing the service but after a generation of good results, no one turns it down.

The central computer has become something like a parent to the whole human race.

I am waiting in my apartment for a woman that I have been assured will be a woman I will immediately like and will continue to like for the rest of my life. I drink water nervously and my attention span is very short.

My trust in the process is complete. I keep telling myself that.

I am so nervous.

Her taxi pulls up outside.

The door opens and she steps out. I open my front door and look at her.

She looks at me from beneath the brim of her hat and smiles. Not the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen but I already know that I never would have been comfortable with that. I feel a subtle shift in my soul.

My glass of water slips from my hand. She laughs.

The computer was right.