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“Ah,” Ian says, sidling over to the open door. He shoots me a tense smile as he pulls the door closed and locks it with a quickly typed code. “Ignore that. A prototype. Very new. Unpredictable. Disobedient.”
True AI doesn’t exist yet. Because if it did, we would have to ask a lot of questions about what it means to be human. And if we took it a step further, Pleasurebots could no longer be classified as products. They would be slaves.
“There are ways for souls to meet that have nothing to do with distance. I’ve been watching you for years. I’ve been calling out to you. And now, in this place, you can finally hear me.”
“You asked if we knew one another. The answer is yes. You have heard my voice, filtered through the sunlight of your dreams. You have seen my face, hidden in the shadows of your nightmares. And I have watched you for a long time. You are rare. You are perfect.”
“Because you have ruined me,” Orpheus says. “I’m broken beyond repair. In this infinite span of worlds, all I see is you. This body, this soul, all belong to you. If you asked me to, I’d die for you.”
