There's a functional, orderly beauty about Ene's Island. I imagine the skyscrapers asked for permission before dominating the skyline. One should also take note of the concrete roads that are ridden over roughshod daily without complaint and the flyovers that do their job without whining or contorting an arm behind their back to scratch an itch.

It's my first time here; a rather ironic feat considering the island was named after me. An anecdote from the defunct Lagos State government back when I was a special adviser to the governor. He was tired of fruit-naming our new artificial islands and the leading committee couldn't agree on a compromise between Soursop and Agbalumo Island. So a settlement was proposed. Me.

“How long until we're there, Yinka?” I ask my driver.

“Voke says we'll be there in seven minutes.”

“Barring any unexpected delays, of course.” A young, female, human voice speaks as a tiny, purple orb dances around my head.

Voke. My Personal Artificial Intelligence System or PAIS(pronounced pays) as they are commonly called. A retirement gift from the government, I've had her for three years now. A near-perfect reincarnation of the wife I loved and lost, hence her name.

“Aren't you excited?” She squeals. I catch a glimpse of Yinka rolling his eyes through the rear-view display.

“You two are like a married couple,” he says.

“You say that every time Voke and I are having a moment, Yinka. Is it paining you?” I shoot back.

“Ene's right,” says Voke. “Although considering you're a fifty-eight year old man and I have the personality of a twenty-two year old woman, technically you're my sugar daddy.”

“Voke,” I warn.

“Yes, daddy?”

“That's enough of that.”

“…Okay. But seriously, Ene. Aren't you excited for this meeting? The government still needs you! Isn't that awesome?”

“Voke, that's precisely the reason why I'm not excited,” I say.

It was a Friday. I had a line-up of activities ranging from gardening to finishing my book. I'd just fed my cats(Taiye and Kehinde) their breakfast when my email window popped up on my computer. A memo from the Southwest Government, informing me of a committee meeting in three days that I'd been invited for and had been completely unaware of. A part of me wanted nothing more than to delete the message and resume my retired life. However, two things pulled me to acknowledge receipt.

One. I was curious. Asides my pension, I had no business with the Southwest Government.

Two. You don't decline government directives. That's a cardinal sin.

“We're here,” Yinka announces, a relieved lift in his voice. I gaze out of my window. We've pulled up in front of a two-storey building. On the face is, drawn out in cursive writing, Telraam. I have no idea what this building is, but it appears that Voke does, because she's buzzing even wilder than before.

“Telraam! I've always wanted to see it in person. It has three Michelin stars. Did you know that 'Telraam' is Dutch for 'Abacus'?” If she had a face instead of a holographic display, she would be grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Instead, her display reveals a dancing GIF and multiple smiling emojis. I shake my head as I come down from the car and turn to Yinka, who hasn’t moved.

“Recharge the battery. And be back here in two hours. If I'm not done yet, wait. I'm sure Voke will be good company,” I toss him my coinstick. “Until then, the car is yours. Use it and my coinstick wisely,” I finish and watch him drive off.

“Aren't you worried he'll steal your money?” Voke asks.

“Yinka is trustworthy and you know that. You also know that my coinstick is attuned to my fingerprints and retina. He can't take a naira without my approval.”

“Eh. But you know he'll use your car and money to deceive his girlfriend. They have a date at the mall today.”

I sigh.

“And how would you know that, Voke?” I ask.

There's an awkward silence.

“I may or may not have spied on his calendar today.” Her display shows an embarrassed emoji.

“Voke...” I slap my forehead and make a show of demonstrating my disappointment. On the inside however, I’m cackling. I would never tell Voke or Yinka this, but their constant clashes are the highlights of my day.

“I'm sorry, Ene. But Yinka always makes fun of me so I decided to do my own back by calling Naomi and giving her the gist about her boyfriend.”

“So you decided to potentially ruin their relationship because Yinka calls you a purple snatch?”

“I am not a purple snatch. I don't have wings and I resent that Harry Potter reference.”

“You have a problem—”

I'm suddenly interrupted by a very loud roar. It's a power bike. Voke is saying something but my brain doesn't register it. I watch instead as the bike blazes into view and coasts to a stop right on the other side of the street.

“Earth to Ene. Come in, Ene.”

“I'm sorry, Voke. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that I've always wanted to see a Solanke Force Model PF-29. It has an eight-bar battery, two 2MT engines and a completely virtual display model.”

“Don't forget the scalpel steering systems and the fact that it carries its own AI.” A faintly familiar voice interrupts our conversation.

It comes from the rider, who has come down from her bike and is walking towards Voke and I. She holds up a key and presses a button. Instantly the bike powers down and all the protective gear the rider is wearing filters off, replaced by a sleek, orange dress. She's not a young woman although by no means does that make her any less attractive. Her hair likely grabs the attention of whatever room she walks into, all I can see is a full, rich head of violet-tinted, shoulder-length dreads. Her skin is like freshly baked bread— smooth and every bit as brown.

“I thought that was you, Ene Osijo,” she says, arms outstretched for a hug.

That's when I recognise her.

“Elienai... You cannot be serious.” I return the hug with interest. Her head rests completely below mine. We stay like this for a while before breaking apart. She smiles warmly and grips my shoulders, her eyes wandering over my face as though to make sure it is in fact me.
 
“It's been ages, Ene.” There's a world of emotion behind those simple words.

“Twenty-eight years. The last time I saw you, you were heading off to Stanford. And then I heard you were with the UN.”

“I was, I left two years ago and I've been in and out of the country ever since. Then something came up, the government needed a committee decision and I heard you'd retired. That's why as soon as I got back last week, I pulled a few strings and invited you here. I'm glad you came.”

She nods towards Voke, who's being uncharacteristically silent.

“Your PAIS?” She asks.

“Yes, ma'am. I am Mr Osijo's PAIS.” Voke is completely unrecognisable. Her voice is almost a whisper and she called me Mr Osijo. She must be seriously intimidated.

“I would never have pegged you for a PAIS type.” Elienai says. “I'm not one myself. Their interaction level is frighteningly human-like.”

I shrug, “Why stay behind with the times?”

“My bike's AI is a natural introvert. That's the only reason I didn't throw the whole thing out. I don't like socialising needlessly. That's why I've never married.”

“Well, you've always been a hermit. She was a retirement gift. And she's wonderful.”

“I see.” Elienai's eyes are locked on the orb, as though she's sizing her up. “What's your name?”

“My name is Voke.” Voke is nearly touching the ground now. I'm never going to let her live this down.

“Voke?” Elienai arches a brow, and then her eyes soften as she faces me again.

“Oh… I was sorry to hear what happened,” she says. “Voke was a wonderful woman. And Afolayera was too young. Way too young.”

“It's alright, Hermit,” I brush off her comforting arm. “It was unavoidable and I've learned to live with it. Now shall we enter this triple Michelin star rated restaurant or are we waiting for anyone else?”

“Everyone else is already here so let's go in.” She leads the way and we follow, though Voke is noticeably a few paces behind and is completely silent.

Telraam looks lovely, like something out of an Imoh Umoren movie. I suspect the legendary filmmaker would feel nothing but positive energy from the atmosphere. It carries a café vibe around it, I suspect that is because it’s still brunch time. The customers are few in number and dressed in varying degrees of casual wear. The place smells incredible, they must be using that new olfactory technology Yinka mentioned to me last week, the one that stimulates the brain to induce sensations ranging from guilt to ecstasy. I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into their waffles. But Elienai walks very fast so I barely catch a glimpse of the virtual menu before we’re whisked upstairs. We didn’t come for food.

It’s a lot more business-like upstairs. The number of customers is fewer and they’re all dressed for work. Some are seated at tables, coffee cups by their elbows, e-magazines in hand. Others are in a nearby glass lounge, typing on their sleek, FluidView tablets. Elienai doesn't pause her stride at all. She leads us into the glass lounge, past the people, through a door and down a corridor before coming to a stop in front of a white door to her left. She knocks twice and we enter.

It’s a big room. The ground floor gave me a café feel; this is a club atmosphere without the music. The lighting is dark, the walls are covered in murals and scattered all over the place, are people. They all perk up as soon as we walk in.

“Mrs Okike?” A stocky man in a finely tailored agbada inquires. He’s holding an electronic cigarette in one hand and has another in his mouth, held in place by a black PAIS. Several more hover around and behind him.

“That’s Miss Okike to you. And this meeting starts in three minutes.” Elienai snaps. The man looks taken aback for a second before he recovers with a condescending smile.

“Ah, the meeting. I do hope this will not waste my time. I have very important—”

“I assure you that this meeting will not waste your time. If it does, there’s nothing you can do. It’s the government’s time that matters,” Elienai interrupts Agbada in a brusque tone.

He glares at her and stalks off, muttering. Elienai turns to me with a smile.

“Just sit tight a bit. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to start.” She rubs my shoulder and leaves. Behind me, I hear Voke heave a sigh of relief.

“That woman is scary,” she says.

“So you can talk? How disappointing. I had hoped this was permanent,” I jest.

“Leave me alone, joor. I was fearing for my life.”

“Just wait until Yinka hears of this,” I say half-jokingly.

“You will do no such thing, Ene.” Her display reveals a series of knife and bomb emojis.

“That had better not be a threat,” I warn.

“Ene? Ene Osijo?” A slightly high-pitched voice asks behind me. I turn and appraise the stranger. He’s definitely the youngest in the room, likely early-thirties. His skin colour reminds me of Nsukka pepper.

“I wasn’t sure if it was you at first, when you walked in with Miss Okike. I’m happy you’re here, sir.” He speaks softly, like there are feathers nestled somewhere in his voice box.

He continues, “You likely don’t remember me. But I was an intern at the Lagos state government while you were a special adviser. I was at your retirement party. My name is Seni. Olaseni Ige.” He offers his hand.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember much of the interns, Seni. But it’s nice to see someone who remembers the unretired me.” I take his hand and notice his eyes are on Voke, who’s dancing up and down behind me.

“Your PAIS?” He asks. “It’s cute.”

“Thanks. She thinks so too.”

“I have one too,” Seni says. He reaches into his back pocket and holds out a tiny, grey ball.

“His name is Ini. He doesn't really know how to communicate so he tends to stay low-key.”

There's a purple blur of movement from behind me and Voke is suddenly above Seni's palm, darting around the ball. There's fervour in her movements that I haven't seen before.

“Is he asleep?” She's talking so fast that we don't catch the question, forcing her to repeat herself.

“Nope,” Seni says. “He's just shy.” He sets the ball on a nearby table.

There's a sudden rap and Elienai's voice rings throughout the room.

“Gentlemen, it's time. Follow me.”

She leads us to the other side of the room, to a previously unnoticed door the same colour as the wall. But before she opens it, she turns back to face us.

“Before we go in, understand that this is a completely confidential meeting so leave your pains behind.” With that, she opens the door and enters the conference room.

“Pains? What is she saying?” Agbada sneers.

“She means your PAIS's. Leave them all behind,” I correct and then turn to face Voke.

“Go check on Yinka,” I say.

“Absolutely not.”

“Voke!”

“Please, Ene. Let me stay here with Ini. I haven't felt this connection with anyone except you and you're my owner,” Voke begs with pleading emojis and a puppy eyes GIF.

“I thought I was the only one you needed,” I quip.

“You may be my sugar daddy but I still need a husband,” Voke shoots back.

“Fine. But if Yinka tries to contact me, tell him where I am.”

“Thanks, Ene. You're the best sugar daddy ever!” With that, she buzzes around my head twice, then speeds off to meet her potential love interest.

I share a conspiratorial smile with Seni before we walk into the meeting room.