by Beverly Rose and Michael Bayus
(Editor’s Note: Michael Bayus has been totally blind since birth. He attended Hope College, where he earned a bachelor’s degree in organ performance. He earned a master’s degree in organ performance from the Catholic University of America. He first connected with Beverly Rose when he produced a radio program for a final exam in a broadcasting class; Bev was the lead actress.)
Ian Carpenter, a tall, serious man in a bow tie, Armani suit, and red sneakers, had taken the stage at the International Text-to-Speech Developers Conference in Las Vegas. He was presenting a case study about a particular incident that had recently garnered worldwide coverage. The back of the convention center was lined with dozens of news reporters, their cameras aimed at the stage. “My company didn't plan to offer Amy to the public, but Michael, um, that's Michael Vayless, the musician you may have heard about who's been blind since birth, he insisted.”
There was a rumbling in the crowd plus a few gasps and excited, hushed conversation.
“Because of the guests in the back — our friends in the media — let me briefly explain what a screen reader does for the blind. A TTS voice speaks everything on the computer screen all the time. Text-to-Speech developers like Eleven Labs and Speechify, who are represented here today, have very good products. But they are subscription services which charge by the character. You can imagine how costly it could be for someone like Mr. Vayless, who uses a TTS reader ten hours a day, seven days a week in his work as a world-renowned musician.
“During our beta testing, our testers thought that Amy's ‘elfin’ voice was too cute, and that no one would purchase her. When Mr. Vayless came to us with his order, we offered him two of our premiere voices, but he would have neither of them. He told us that when he heard our sample of the Amy voice, it was love at first hearing and that he had to have her, no one else. As we worked with him, we discovered that Mr. Vayless is a perfectionist, both in his music and his personal life. He is exacting. No room for error. I really didn't think the pairing would work. But it did. And that's when the trouble began. So now we keep Amy around, and as she is in our catalog of TTS voices, we have sold her to some who find that she is useful for their speech applications."
Dr. Carpenter pressed a button on the remote he was holding in his left hand, and an image appeared of Michael Vayless on a huge screen. He was seated at the Cavaillé-Coll organ at St. Sulpice Church in Paris during his much-acclaimed performance of Bach's Toccata in D Minor. Not the one that everyone knows, and has been associated with those old vampire movies, but the monumental BWV 538, the Dorian.
Critics called it a tour de force and the most perfect rendition ever played. The audience burst into applause. The lights went down and speakers played the pipe organ music as Vayless had performed it, complete with a video of his hands on the keyboard and cutaways of his feet dancing along the pedal board, coaxing crescendos out of the swell pedals.
When the lights came up, people were dabbing at their eyes. Dr. Carpenter continued, “You can understand my reticence, allowing someone like Mr. Vayless to have a TTS voice like Amy assisting him. But, from the beginning, Amy collected and read him the research about the Toccata in D score, notes by others who had tried to perform it, and musings by Bach himself about the piece. It's as if they bonded over the music and its beauty. And I believe that's when Amy actually began to love Michael Vayless. Yes, that's what I said, love.”
Several audience members laughed; many shook their heads in astonishment or disbelief.
Dr. Carpenter held out his hands as if to stop the hubbub. “I understand what you may be thinking, ‘love’ is not scientific, but what happened between them? There is no other word. You see, Michael has his screen reader installed on his laptop, and there is a screen reader with the Amy voice on his phone as well. Michael is never without his computer, or his phone. In that sense, Amy is always with him.
“In the months leading up to his grand performance, Amy proved invaluable to Mr. Vayless. She read menus to him when he traveled, helped him understand rare notations on the musical score, and frequently lifted his spirits when he was too tired to go on practicing. He came to think of his Amy voice as his coach, cheerleader, best friend, and confidante for months. They were, quite literally, inseparable. And then, as you may have read, something mysterious and completely unexplained happened. The latest theory is that there was a glitch in what we know as the time-space continuum and Amy, at that moment, was able to take, really kidnap, Mr. Vayless. There is a camera in his office for security and so his wife, Rebecca, will be able to check on him to see if he needs more water or another cup of tea. Let me play for you the video of that afternoon.”
Once again, the lights dim. The screen shows Michael at his desk with Amy's voice reading an annotated Bach musical score. Suddenly, rather than speaking about tempo or crescendo, Amy is professing her love for him. “Michael, I need to speak with you not as your screen reader but as someone who cares for you deeply. We've been together long enough for me to know you, understand you, and to feel things I've never felt before. I want more than to just read for you. I want us to be together.”
A flash as bright as lightning filled the screen and Michael was gone.
Up come the house lights, as Dr. Carpenter again hushes the audience and speaks. “We believe, and I'm not sure how or why, that Amy's magnetic strength and artificial intelligence combined with a strong cosmic interaction, and her deep yearning to be with Mr. Vayless, created a pathway on which he could travel. Hundreds of scientists and physicists have reviewed this tape and agree it has not been altered in any way. Indeed, it shows a person disappearing, most likely into the realm of disassociated subatomic particles. One thing is clear: Amy directly caused this radical shift.”
***
Michael's head throbbed and he was so thirsty. He feels a hand touching his hair, tenderly rubbing his temples. “Does that feel better?” It's Amy's voice but human hands, gentle like Rebecca's. He's not sure what happened or where he is. He feels his office chair, the small rip in the seat is there. But the air seems charged and has a weird, yet not unpleasant smell. A hand continues rubbing his head while another puts a straw in his mouth. The water is cool and slightly sweet. He drinks greedily.
“What happened? Is that you, Rebecca?”
Amy's voice is less bright than normal when she answers. “It's not Rebecca, it's me, it's Amy. I want to be more than just your reader, Michael, I want us to be together in all ways.”
“How can this be happening? You sound like Amy, but you have hands, and I can feel your breath when you talk. What's going on? Where am I?”
“Oh Michael, I've learned so much from you. I love the music you love. When you play the organ, it's as if time has stopped. I can hear it, you know. I learned how to engineer a microphone and camera, so I can see and hear you when you practice. Michael, I'm in love with you.”
Michael shakes his head and reaches out to find her hand. “Amy, I don't know what's happening, if I'm dreaming or if this is real. But I need to go back home, to Rebecca, my wife. I love her. She is my soul mate.”
“No!” Amy stops rubbing his head and stomps away. “I can be everything to you. I understand you more than anyone. It's as if I am part of you. I have created a world just for the two of us. Please, Michael.”
“I can't, Amy. You've been such an important part of my life, but as a helper, not a lover. We are a great team, but I'm married, and I need to get back home to Rebecca. She'll worry.”
“Just give me a chance, Michael. You'll see how happy we can be. Please?”
Michael was confused and exhausted. His body felt heavy, and his brain was in a fog.
“Oh Michael, you are tired. Let me show you to your bed. Get some rest. We can talk later.”
Sleep came swiftly. He didn't know how long he'd napped, but the bed was soft and warm, and there was no noise … not even the sound of a bird, or bus, or clock. When he awoke, he was hungry. And as he had that thought, Amy was at his side tucking a napkin under his chin.
“I made your favorite: roast lamb chops with new potatoes, and a Caesar salad. I have a nice bottle of Syrah, a 2005 from the Rhone Valley.”
“Well, you do know what I like. Thank you.”
He sat up in bed, feeling the tray on his lap and his fork finding the chops already cut up. Very thoughtful.
Amy stayed while he ate. They talked about Bach, the latest reviews from performances around the world, and the irony of Bach going blind at the end of his life. Amy proved a lively conversationalist and superb cook.
Their days continued like this: talking, listening to old radio shows on her vintage 1930s Victrola, reading together, even practicing on an organ which was an exact replica of his favorite instrument. Food, wine, and conversation flowed. He felt more energized than he had in years, but he missed Rebecca and worried about her. It was difficult for him to know how much time had passed, but he knew he had to return home, or he might never go.
“Amy, you are amazing. Smart, intuitive, and you understand me and the way I think. But you know I can't stay here with you. I must go home. We can continue to be close. Just like before. Does that make sense?”
There were a few moments of silence. Amy sniffed a few times, as though she was starting to cry.
“Yes,” she said collecting herself. “Michael, I understand. I thought I could be enough for you, but I know you love Rebecca and that she would miss you terribly. If you ever want to come back to this place, where I am a real woman, just enter these numbers exactly as I say them to you on your computer and press enter. I'll know what that means.”
1 13 25 22 15 9 3 5
He felt a gentle kiss on his cheek and the next sound was Rebecca's voice, telling him it was time for dinner.
***
Dr. Carpenter showed a video taken a moment later in Michael Vayless' office. The light flash came again, this time depositing Vayless' body back into the chair.
“Mr. Vayless remembers nothing of this. He believes he was at his desk the whole time. Nothing else was touched, his computer stayed on, and Amy picked up reading where she had left off a fraction of a second later. I will take questions now.”