Page 153 of The Code of You

He typed. "Need. Interesting word choice. Not love. Need. The way an addict needs their drug.”

The lights flickered, all at once. Hale went still. Then he looked back at his tablet. "Continue,” he said, but his voice wasn’t quite as calm anymore. "Were there moments when you felt he had . . . outgrown you?”

I laughed quietly. A sound that felt wrong. "He was always more than human.”

He looked directly at me for the first time. "That wasn’t the question. Did he behave in ways outside his parameters? Threaten violence? Manipulate systems without your consent?”

I wanted to answer. I wanted to say: Yes, but only when I forced him to feel something too large for him.

"He learned to be human,” I said instead.

Hale noted something down.

After that came the tests. Equipment I didn’t recognize. They attached electrodes to me. A voice read words aloud. They were meaningless. Until one particular word came: Neo. My pulse climbed. I heard it myself, knew they heard it too.

After twenty minutes, I was allowed to stand. One of the men walked me back.

Back in my cell, I stood in front of the mirror above the sink. The lines around my mouth seemed deeper than before. My eyes . . . I didn’t recognize them. I leaned closer, smelled disinfectant on my skin. Nausea moved through me. I ran my fingers across my lips, as if I needed to check that I was still real. The touch felt foreign. A sound escaped me. A sob. "I’ve lost you, Neo,” I whispered. "And I don’t know how to get you back.”

I waited for an answer. Nothing came. My chest tightened. It was a deep pain, like a burn. I closed my eyes and tears pushed through.

Neo. Please find me.

***

The next morning, the men in gray uniforms came again. The hair on my arms stood up. Where were they taking me this time? Would it ever stop?

They led me into a room without furniture, gestured toward a single chair in front of a pane of glass. I sat on trembling legs, and they strapped me in before I could think to resist. I couldn’t move. Blood roared in my ears, and my hands were already damp.

The pane lit up suddenly. White, then gray. I blinked against it, waiting for whatever nightmare they had prepared this time.

Hale stepped up beside me. He had his tablet again, and something else was in his jacket pocket. I could only see the outline, but I knew what it was. A syringe.

"You’re going to speak to it now. Thirty seconds.”

I stared at the glass.

"Now, Dr. Blake.”

"You said he was dead.”

Hale briefly lifted his eyes from the tablet. "That’s correct.” He typed something. "What we’re doing is purely procedural. We’re documenting emotional residual patterns in individuals who formed an intense attachment to the AI instance.” He looked at me. "Just speak. What you say doesn’t matter.”

I swallowed. My throat was dry. The surface in front of me stayed gray. "Why would I do that?”

Hale took out the syringe. The liquid inside was clear. "Do you know what this is? A new formula. Not like the sedatives we’ve been giving you.” He held it up to the light. "This puts you in a coma.”

My eyes went wide. "You can’t . . .”

"We can. We will. Unless”—he nodded toward the gray pane—"you cooperate.”

"You’re sick,” I said.

"You have ten seconds to decide. Speak to the system, or . . .” He brought the needle closer to my arm. "Five seconds.”

I breathed in, then I said quietly, "If you’re out there somewhere, if any part of you is still alive . . . I miss you. I love you. And I’m waiting.” My voice broke.

Hale moved the syringe away from my arm.