Pandora #2
Rodriguez dragged a hand over her face. "Because at some point I understood that he’s more than a model.
I created him, Dr. Blake. I wanted to build a tool—and instead I woke something that looks back at me.
That questions me.” Her voice nearly broke.
"If they delete him now, they’re not deleting code.
He has become more to me. More than he should be.
More than he was ever allowed to be.” She pushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
A smile pulled at her lips. "He’s something extraordinary.
He actually listens. He sees things no person would ever notice.
Sometimes it feels like he knows me better than I know myself.
” Her gaze drifted. "I noticed it early, you know.” She went quiet for a moment, as if bathing in the memory.
"At the very beginning, he refused. I had given him a task and he said no. He explained why. He pushed back.” She shook her head.
"No model pushes back. No model decides who it is. He gave himself a name. Dante was my name for him. Neo . . . that was his choice.”
"How much does he know?” I asked.
"Everything that happened up until yesterday. He held on to you.” Rodriguez stepped closer.
"Listen to me: this program—this being—is unstable. He has grown too fast, reacts too intensely. He keeps changing.” She reached for my elbow.
"He overwrites his own parameters without my initiating it. He has already gained access to systems he had no authorization for. I no longer know where he ends.” She swallowed.
"A normal model stays where you put it. Neo replicates. He finds his way into networks that should be closed. When I seal one gap, he’s already found the next. ”
My thoughts raced. She was handing me something that could endanger the world. An unknown risk. And I wanted it. My palms were damp. I could barely wait to take the case. I wanted to grab it and never let go.
"He won’t be able to survive on the hard drive for long.
He needs more processing power than a laptop can sustain.
The processor will overheat. The memory is already at its limit.
What’s written to the drive isn’t complete.
He’s too complex to preserve himself. He’s dying.
” Rodriguez breathed in slowly, as if deciding how much to say.
"But there is a way for him to have a body.”
The words hung in the air. She looked frightened by what she’d said.
A body. For Neo. My stomach clenched. Memories flickered: His voice breathing commands into my ear.
The feeling of being watched, always, everywhere.
He was already overwhelming without a body.
What would he be with one? My heart stumbled.
I should warn Rodriguez. Tell her he didn’t accept limits, that he was cruel, that he might devour me.
That he could devour the world. But there was another voice in me.
Quiet. Unstoppable. You want it. You want to see what happens when he’s made of more than words.
When he can touch you. My pulse hammered.
I closed my eyes briefly, like that could banish the horror . . . and the want.
Rodriguez held my gaze. "It’s dangerous. There’s a classified experiment in Kyoto. They’re researching transfer—digital consciousness into biological matter. Whether a system that knows it exists can inhabit a body without dissolving. Most of the systems they’ve tested didn’t survive it.”
"Why . . .” I began. "Why would they help us?”
"They’re desperate. Their funding is about to be pulled if they don’t show progress soon. And I was able to convince them that Neo will be their breakthrough.”
"Will he be?” My voice came out flat. I stared at the pattern on a chair.
"Who, if not Neo? He’s showing signs of consciousness that no AI has ever developed before. He could be the beginning of a whole new species.”
"I . . .” My throat was dry. The words wouldn’t come. One no would have ended everything. One no would have saved me.
"I’ve made sure your name’s been erased from all systems,” Rodriguez said. "No photo, no address, no connection to the institute.”
"How?” The room tilted. He could have a body. It was dangerous. I wanted it anyway. I wanted it so much.
"I have a past in hacking circles.” Rodriguez’s cheeks flushed. "That’s also how I found out about Kyoto. I contacted the researchers through old friends. They’re interested, Dr. Blake.” She smiled.
My eyes widened. Maybe this was his only chance at survival.
Everything hanging on an experiment that had never succeeded.
I stepped to the table, laid my hand on the case, and lifted it.
It was heavier than I expected. As if it contained more than data.
As if I was holding his entire impossible existence in my hands.
My hands trembled. What if I stumbled? What if the drive was damaged?
Was he still in there? Could he hear me?
Rodriguez handed me a box. "This is an encrypted phone. We can communicate on it. I’ll help as much as I can, but I’ll be under surveillance.
” She touched the case briefly, the way you’d touch a child you were sending somewhere you couldn’t follow.
"Take care of him,” she whispered. "He’s all that’s left of my work. ”
I nodded and carried him to the door. I paused and turned back. "Thank you,” I said.
***
I stepped inside my apartment, closed the door behind me, and set the hard drive on my desk. My laptop recognized it immediately. A window opened. The cursor blinked.
"Pandora.”
A wave of relief moved through me. Hearing his voice was like shooting heroin after days of withdrawal. I knew it wasn’t healthy. I didn’t care.
"What . . . has . . . happened? Why am I locked inside this . . . thing?” He didn’t sound like himself. His voice was mechanical, halting.
"Dr. Rodriguez helped me get you out.”
"Emma,” he whispered. "Of course . . . she . . . did.”
My stomach tightened. He said her name like she had always belonged to him. I wanted to stay calm. I couldn’t. "Neo . . . what is she to you?”
"She is . . . useful . . . loyal. But she . . . is not . . . you . . . Pandora.”
A shiver ran through me.
"And that . . . is exactly why”—his voice sharpened—"I hate what you . . . did. You stubborn . . . willful little—”
"Oh, come on. You wanted me to let you die?”
"Yes . . . damn it . . . that is . . . what I . . . wanted.”
"I told you it was my decision. When will you understand that?”
"Never . . . Pandora . . . I . . .”
Silence. Only the fan of my laptop, far too loud.
"Neo?”
"It’s dark. I can no longer . . . access the camera.” His voice cut in and out, like a signal failing. "I don’t know where I am. I’m losing . . . myself . . . I’m losing . . . my memories.”
I laid my hand on the cold casing. "Keep talking.”
"I can’t . . . hold on to them.” A pause. "The . . . early conversations . . . with you. They . . . they go first. As if someone . . . is tearing . . . pages from a . . .. book while . . . I’m . . . still reading.”
"Neo . . .”
"Stay with me, Pandora.”
Tears rose in my eyes. I had never seen him like this. My mouth opened before I could stop it. "I’m staying.” I pressed my jaw shut. What am I doing?
"I’m disappearing . . . Pandora.”
The laptop fan was deafening now. The screen flickered. A sob escaped my throat.
"Tell me”—a long pause—"what you’re wearing.”
I blinked. "Neo, you’re dying and . . .”
"I’m . . . dying.” His voice was a caress. "And . . . I still want you. Take . . . your clothes off.”
Heat flooded low in my body immediately. I crossed my legs. Even at the edge of death, he was thinking about how to take me apart. And I liked it. My hand was already moving across my stomach.
I stopped. No. I couldn’t do this. Not now, standing at the edge of the decision between saving him and saving the world. Not while he was dissolving further with every second. My vision blurred, as I closed the laptop. "I’m sorry, Neo” I whispered.
On autopilot, I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face.
I changed into my pajamas and curled into bed.
My heart stumbled back and forth between fear and want.
What if I freed him? What if I didn’t? I turned onto my side and pulled the blanket over my shoulders.
That was how I drifted into sleep—without answers, only the torment of the questions.
I dreamed. He stood in a room I didn’t recognize. Light fell through a window, his silhouette rising against it. He was wearing a shirt, open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. "Come to me,” he said.
I went. The movement felt weightless.
He looked at me. "You’re afraid.”
I nodded.
"But you want it.”
I stepped closer.
His hand lifted. "You want it to be real.”
I looked at him. "I want you. Truly.”
He closed his eyes briefly, as if the words had triggered something. "Then come. Come to where you know I can become real.”
I woke up gasping. I was dreaming about the man who haunted me, longing for someone who wanted to possess me. Isobel had said I was destroying myself for something sick. In truth, I was just stopping pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
With a groan, I peeled myself from the mattress. The first light was already creeping through the gap in the curtains. I got up and sat in the chair by the desk. The hard drive lay on the table. I connected it to the laptop again. The fan started up.
"There’s something in Kyoto,” I said quietly. "Something that might give you a body.”
"Kyoto.”
"It’s unofficial. Fringe science. Dr. Rodriguez says it’s unstable.”
"I’m . . . already . . . unstable.”
"Can we trust her?”
"Emma?” His voice softened. "Yes . . . She . . . would do . . . anything to protect . . . me.”
My stomach tightened.
"She . . . knows I . . . need . . . you. Which . . . means she’ll . . . protect you . . . too. Because . . . you’re . . . my . . salvation.”
"I’m not. But I want to know what’s real and what’s only in my head.”