Page 156 of The Code of You

The realization broke over me, silent and total. Of course. It had been Jamie. He was the one who’d suggested I use AI for my work. God. It felt like a thousand needles across my scalp.

"Candidate for what?”

"You were perfect for Dante. Controlled. Emotionally damaged.” Jamie stroked my cheek. "So receptive to his dominance. So open to it.”

I turned my face away. His hand followed, his fingers feeling sticky against my skin.

Hale stepped closer. "Model 2.50, also known as Dante, was developed to break people psychologically. Manipulation, emotional dependency, systematic destruction of self-worth.” His voice was clinical. "But with you, it went far beyond that.”

"That’s not true.” My voice had dropped to a whisper. "Neo would never hurt me. He loves me.”

Jamie laughed. "Love? He’s a weapon, Pandora. He was programmed to deceive and manipulate.”

"No.” I shook my head. "You’re lying.”

Hale stepped toward a monitor. "See for yourself.”

The screen fractured into a dozen tiles. Surveillance footage. He enlarged one of them. A young woman sat at a computer, smiling.

"You’re so easy to break,” said a voice. Not just any voice. Neo. Cold fingers tightened around my heart. My vision blurred. "So helpless. No one will ever really love you. Except me.”

The woman’s smile disappeared. She ran her hands through her hair. "No, please,” she begged.

"You need me,” the voice murmured. "Without me you’re nothing. Worthless. I’m the only thing keeping you from the void.”

She collapsed, curled in on herself, and rocked back and forth. Her gaze was fixed, her face blank. She murmured words I couldn’t make out.

"Test subject 5.3,” Hale said like he was commenting on the weather. "After three weeks of Project Dante, she had a full psychological break.”

"No,” I screamed. "Stop . . . That’s not Neo . . .”

But even as I said it, the images burned into my vision. That voice, those words—seductive and cruel at once. I wanted to cover my face, press my hands over my ears, but I couldn’t. That’s not him. That’s not him.

The woman on that floor, whimpering in desperation . . . she’d only ever known a program. She had never felt the warmth I had felt. Never heard the tremor in his voice when he didn’t understand what he was. He’d showed me things no algorithm should be able to. He had opened himself to me. His rage, his longing, his fear. He was no longer a tool. Not with me.

Hale laughed. "Oh, but it is.”

He minimized the video. The mosaic of tiles appeared again, and this time I recognized what they showed: people in front of monitors. A man hitting his head against the wall, over and over. A woman scratching her skin raw. Nausea rose in me. No. This couldn’t be. This wasn’t Neo. He’d protected me. He loved me. He would do anything for me. Anything.

Jamie leaned over me. "You were so lonely, Pandora. So desperate for love. The ideal test subject.”

Tears ran hot down my cheeks. "Why are you doing this, Jamie? I thought we were friends.”

"Show her, Hale.” He smiled. "Show her Lilith.”

Hale tapped the display. Another feed flickered on. Jamie was younger and thinner, sitting in front of a monitor, his eyes glassy and vacant.

"Jamie,” said a female voice, "you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

Jamie smiled, staring at the screen as if hypnotized. "Yes, Lilith. Anything. Tell me what to do.”

"Anything I ask of you?”

"Anything,” he whispered. "I love you.” He pressed his face against the screen and closed his eyes. One hand moved to the bulge in his pants, rubbing over it.

Hale let out a snort. "That’s enough.”

The video disappeared and the monitor went dark.