“Gabriel,” she whispered, “I remember you saying something about people being predictable?”
“Well, I meant that—”
“How about this?” She yanked Gabriel’s beer bottle out of his hand, taking away the substance that he’d relied on all night, and dropped it on the sand. He stared down at the alcohol fizzling away into the ground.
Yvonne grabbed the sides of his head, forcing him to look into her eyes. She barely suppressed an excited giggle.
Gabriel stiffened. “How about… what?”
“This.” She kissed him.
She put everything into that kiss. Her lips. Her tongue. She ran her fingers through his red hair and pressed her hips against him. She felt his heartbeat, the muscles of his back, his breath.
Gabriel melted into her like butter. His strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her into the air. She coiled her legs around his waist and climbed him as if he were a tree. He held her steady. She felt the sky would have to fall around them before he’d ever let her drop.
“Predictable?” she whispered.
He laughed. “No.”
They fell to the ground, embracing each other. Gabriel laughed that hearty, full-of-life laugh that he didn’t do often enough.
“Those five girls were lucky.” She giggled. “Make it six!”
Gabriel rolled onto his side, perched on his elbow to hover over her. The waves lapped at their bodies, coating their skin with cool, damp sand. Yvonne smelled the burning sulfur in the air.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he said.
“Really?” She enthusiastically dove into him, kissing him again. Their hands explored each other’s bodies like pilgrims discovering a new world.
He rolled on top of her, gently pinning her to the ground. “Really. You’re like… a wise contradiction.”
Yvonne laughed, feeling oddly touched. She pecked him on the lips. “Thank you.” She beamed. “I think?”
“You’re welcome, I think.” Gabriel released her, rolling back onto his side.
“Now, Gabriel, tell me. What exactly is your driving passion in life? Be honest.”
Gabriel’s mouth tightened. “Nothing. I just want to enjoy life. Have some thrills. Be happy. That’s all.”
“Oh, pish posh. Who are you trying to fool?” She kissed him gently. “Tell me the truth.”
Gabriel tensed. He studied her face. “The immune system,” he replied, slowly mouthing each word as if he was being tested. “I want to fix it. I want to prevent a catastrophe from occurring before it starts. That’s my goal.”
“How?”
“By altering the immune system. Making it smarter. I want to apply the theory of autopoiesis—”
“Autopoiesis? You’re talking about self-creation, right?”
His eyes widened. “How did you…?”
“I did my homework since our last meeting.” She smiled. “But tell me more, Dr. Genius.”
“Well, then you must know that it’s a recent theory, formulated by Humberto Maturana and Francisco Varela, which posits…” He shook his head. “How do I explain this? It’ll bore you.”
“I’ll be the judge of what bores me.”
He shrugged. “Okay, so an autopoietic system is when you have… let’s say you have a system formed in such a way that the processes inside said system maintain and continually recreate its structure. Normally, we define an object’s identity by what stays the same. We define it by the constant, instead of by the changing. The constant shape of it.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Now, forget what we normally do. Instead, let’s say that identity is defined not by continuity of shape but by continuity of process. For example, picture a big corporation. The corporation begins with certain people, desks, and equipment, but these interior things are not permanent. The employees change, and the management changes, but because the processes within are still running, the company itself still exists. The corporation is an evolving entity. The corporation’s identity is defined by internal processes that allow it to thrive, to evolve, and continue living. The corporation is autopoietic.”
Somewhere in the distance, a fellow beachgoer was playing an acoustic guitar. Gabriel turned to listen to it, facing the island of lights that stretched out into the dark sky.
Yvonne touched his hand. “Go on.”
He looked back at her. “So let’s think about the immune system, antibodies, all that good clean fun. Let’s assume that the human body is autopoietic. It exists not by continuity of shape but by continuity of process. We have the brain, with all its neurons, synaptic connections, and so on. The lymphatic system. Digestive system. Endocrine system. The cardiovascular system, with a heart that continually pumps blood. All of these are separate pieces, separate forms of consciousness, so to speak. Each system of the body is a targeted subcommittee inside a bigger General Motors-esque corporation, composed of various employees, each one working a very specific job. Then, we have the immune system. When you think about it, the immune system functions just like a second brain. Like a brain, it responds to changes in the environment. The immune system recognizes pathogens, and it creates antibodies to deal with those pathogens.”
“Okay, I think I understand.” Her brain was certainly working in overdrive. The scene around them—the waves, the beach, the smell of sulfur, the fireworks—was so vivid, so dreamlike, so unlike her hometown. Who is this strange boy? Is he real?
“Good,” he said, grinning. “Have you ever stopped to consider how insanely intelligent the immune system is? It’s incredible. When it sees a threat, it spawns antibodies to terminate that threat. The immune system doesn’t just resemble the brain. It exists as its own cognitive system.”
“I never thought of it that way. Are you sure?”
“Well, it’s all theory at this point. And this is where my part comes in. My passion, as you put it. If the immune system is a cognitive system, what if we could make it smarter?”
Gabriel sat up, cutting a dark jagged shape against the golden lights of the landscape behind him. His expression was wild with joy. Yvonne could’ve made love to him right there. But she wanted to wait for a little while, at least a few more dates, just to make the moment, when it finally came, even more amazing.
