Fiction Friday

Jonathan approached the holographic display. Why somebody thought to build an ominous circular room for the AI to project itself into the center he couldn’t fathom. Talking to them on screens was bad enough, but giving them entire bodies. That was too much for him, especially with AI 5218. He dreaded those conversations.

Technically AI 5218 was an it, as all AIs were, but Jonathan took to referring to her as she. He didn’t know if it was him, nobody talked about their experiences with AIs, still liking to believe them impersonal machines, but she took on the same appearance every time. A small blonde girl would appear in the middle of the room, singing songs while twirling her hair round her fingers. Where the AI got the idea he only had the vaguest notion, how it knew he often contemplated having an illegal child, like they did out in the nons.

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