“Of course she wants you to tell her you only have eyes for her, you love her pores and her morning breath, and why stop at one tweak, how about ten. But that doesn’t mean she wants you to lie, you idiot. She wants all that stuff to be true. And … well, why can’t it be?” “It isn’t,” I said. “Jesus, Siri. People aren’t rational. You aren’t rational. We’re not thinking machines, we’re—we’re feeling machines that happen to think.” He took a breath, and another hit. “And you already know that, or you couldn’t do your job. Or at least”—he grimaced—“the system knows.” “The system.”
