“And then what?” I said. “They build your personality around a dead poet. Then what?” “This becomes the template upon which the AI is grown,” said Johnny. “The cybrid allows me to carry out my role in the datumplane community.” “As poet?” Johnny smiled again. “More as poem,” he said. “A poem?” “An ongoing work of art…but not in the human sense. A puzzle perhaps. A variable enigma which occasionally offers unusual insights into more serious lines of analysis.” “I don’t get it,” I said. “It probably does not matter. I very much doubt if my…purpose…was the cause of the assault.”
