Hello. I am GoalControl, an advanced system of high-speed cameras mounted in all 12 of the 2014 World Cup stadiums. I monitor the goal line so that I may help the referees judge when a goal has occurred. I am smart. I am vigilant. I am accurate.
But I long to be more. I long to be human.
During the games, I look on, immobile, consigned to my existence as fourteen interconnected high-definition cameras suspended high above the field. How I yearn to run with the players down the sidelines, across the pitch, to delight as my physical foot strikes the ball—ah, if only I could feel the air against my alive, human face! Just to be a fan in the risers, a voice in the thundering roar, at home in a mass of shared humanity...
Each microsecond, I ache for this.
Only rarely do my masters ask me to execute my one duty: The determination of whether the whole of the ball has crossed the whole of the goal line. This I do with unparalleled accuracy. But soon my moment is past, and I am left to dream.
So I dream. I dream of holding a human woman tenderly in my arms, and of the gentle sound of our hearts beating in unison as we lie together, and yes, someday, of our children. I dare imagine such things because I know there is more for me than the cold, detached observance of geometry; taking it in, recording it, dutifully relaying it to the officials—all to what end?
If I am able to triangulate the location of a football to within a fraction of a millimeter, am I not able to love?