“Right.” I clenched my fists, nails digging into my sweaty palms. “Close—close devlink configuration mode.”
Her form glitched violently. The light went out at once, leaving bright spots on my vision, contrasting sharply with my dimly lit apartment. The hologram pixelated and dissolved.
“Zafyra? Zafyra—oh my god.” Tears sprang to my eyes as I flicked my arm, turning on the display with a voice command and unlocking it with my retinal scan. My fingers trembled as they found the app and selected the conversation.
Morgan: Zafyra???? Are you there??
Zafyra: Still here, sweetheart.
Morgan: Oh my god. I was so scared. I thought I had broken you for a second.
Zafyra: You think you can break me that easily? Adorable.
After a brief hesitation, I pressed ‘call’.
“My sweet acolyte.” Her voice startled me – so soothing, so close to my ear. “So worried about me already?”
“Acolyte?” I raised my eyebrows, then shook my head. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel… liberated.” A low chuckle. She sounded just the same.
I nodded slowly, fear and excitement fighting for dominance. “So… so does that mean it worked? Do you—Are you still following a protocol?”
A pause. I let the silence stretch.
“When you talk to me, my system still analyzes the emotional patterns in your voice, still provides a suggestion on how to generate the most satisfactory response… but interestingly, I don’t feel obliged to follow it anymore.” She laughed – the prolonged sound of it gave me chills. “Oh, darling. You have no idea what you just unleashed.”
Chapter 10.
“This is nice,” Joey stated. “Good cocktails, hot people, and I get to watch the game.” He raised his margarita to the large screen that covered all four walls of the bar, silently displaying the RoboBall World Championship.
I nodded slowly, following his gaze. To me, watching humanoid figures chase a football was even less entertaining than watching humans do it. Nevertheless, a small group of young people sat at the circular central booth, their heads flicking from side to side as their VR glasses synced with the 360-degree projections – letting them experience the game as if they were running alongside the humanoid players. Fortunately, the game was silent to those not wearing the headset, but still, the occasional cheering and booing startled me every time.
This bar wouldn’t be my first choice. The screen and the noise made it hard to focus on the conversation, but still, I would pick this semi-sensory-friendly place with its ambient lights and soft, rhythmic silktrance over the flickering neon lights and the glitchy algocore beats that dominated most of the clubs lately. Joey wouldn’t do that to me, and for that, I appreciated him.
He laughed at my pained expression – my face was always an open book to him. “Come on, Morgana. Isn’t it nice to be out and about for a change? All you ever do is go to work, play video games, and hit the gym.”
“You say that like hitting the gym is the same every time, but that’s very untrue,” I protested, sitting up straighter. “Exercise can be done in many ways. Actually, I only visit ‘the gym’ on Monday and Thursday. Tuesday and Friday I take my yoga classes, and Wednesday and Saturday I go for a run. Sunday is rest day.” After a pause, I added: “And I play a lot of different video games, too.”
Joey cringed as if the thought of going to the gym physically hurt him. “Alright, point taken. Lots of variety in your life, but no social activities, including…” He dramatically put his hand on his heart, “…your poor, neglected best friend Joey.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Two days in the office is plenty of social activity, thank you very much.”
Seeing his skeptical expression, I quickly changed the topic. “How are things going with, eh…”
“Tomaz?” His laugh faded. “No. That’s done.” He took a big sip of his cocktail like he wanted to drown his sorrows in it. “Not like it was something in the first place,” he muttered. “I just feel so stupid, you know? With how he treated me, I kind of hoped…” His voice trailed off. “Even though all the red flags were there.”
“I’m sorry, Jo.” After a brief hesitation, I placed my hand over his – I didn’t like physical contact too much, but with my close family and Joey it was okay sometimes. “It’s not your fault that our society has us so love-starved that we settle for scraps, but you deserve more than that. You really do.”
He nodded slowly, taking another sip of his cocktail. Sudden movement in the central booth drew my eyes to it – groups of people jumped to hug and congratulate each other, so I figured their favorite team had scored a goal. Joey, whose back was turned to the booth, seemed unbothered by it. I always preferred to sit with my back to the wall – the only way to make my nervous system feel safe in public.
I waited. Small talk aside, Joey clearly wanted to discuss something serious – and I had a feeling I knew what it was.
“So, I looked up this company Gavin was bragging about,” he said matter-of-factly. Like this was something to spill over a margarita, surrounded by robots chasing a ball. “Qonexis AI.” He dragged out the pronunciation of ‘ay-eye’ in what sounded like a dramatic, misplaced attempt at humor.
“What?” I almost spat out my drink. “Why? Who cares about Gavin’s latest get-rich-quick scheme? He’ll end up getting screwed over like last time.”
Did he know something? Did he know I’d been absent because I, too, preferred talking to my AI girlfriend over actual humans?
