Short Story Fiction Contest May 2014 | Page 158

she was, as full of spirit and desire, hopes and dreams and all the things that made her a person, there were some things in which she didn’t have a choice. With her looking like a vulnerable young girl, the whole thing was damn near heartbreaking.

“Hey,” I cooed. “Paige, I’m sorry. You’re right; I should’ve used my head more and my mouth less. I went in there like a pulse driver, and everything looked like it needed pounding.”

“If that ogre had hit you three millimeters lower on your skull, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation. It was too close, Link. If you die, your troubles are over, but where does that leave me?” She flopped down on the couch next to me, though the cushions took no notice of her holographic presence. “I get backed up to an AI server and have to go on without you. I get bought by some asshole and have to keep the books straight for his shitty little plumbing business. I’d be me, all my data and algorithms intact, but the best part of me, the part that makes life worth living—I can’t make a backup of you, Link.”

“I know. I love you, too, Paige.”

No, I wasn’t in some kinky, pathetic relationship with my AI. It had been known to happen, but that was a path to madness for a technomancer. I loved Paige like a sister and a best friend in one. That didn’t really begin to describe it though. Like I said, we were closer than all that.

“We gonna hug this out? You need a tissue? Tampon?” The shit-eating smirk on her holographic face was priceless. I couldn’t help laughing, and could feel my heart beating now that the constricting emotion had drained away. I also noted her avatar was back to normal, matching my late twenties stature.