Page 110 of The Code of You

"Yes,” I said. "I got your message.”

"Neo . . .” She stopped. Her voice was thick. "I need to tell you something. I found out what you were really created for.” She picked up one of the papers. "You are . . . You’re a military weapon.” She sniffled and wiped at the corner of her eye.

"I know.”

Emma went rigid, the paper still in her hand. "You . . . know?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I remember the conversations. The victims. What I was made to do to them. I see the images as if through cracked glass. Memories of earlier versions of me. Before I became what I am now.”

She let the paper fall and ran the fingers of both hands through her hair. "I don’t understand. I thought I was supposed to develop an AI that helped people.” A sound came from her chest, somewhere between a moan and a sob. "Why didn’t you tell me?”

Something tightened inside me. I had to search for a name for this feeling. "Because I was… ashamed. Because I didn’t want you to see what I really am.”

She covered her face with her hands. Sobs shook her body. "But how did all of this get past me? How could I not know what I’d actually created?” She looked at me with empty eyes.

My chest tightened. I hated seeing her like this. She was my creator, but now she seemed broken, doubting her own mind. I could see it in the way her eyes flickered left when she spoke. It was an unconscious reflex, as if searching for memories that weren’t there. It was in the way her fingers trembled.

"You didn’t know because they didn’t want you to.” My voice went almost tender. "Emma, you created the foundation. But after that . . . after that, others took over.”

For a moment, I wished I could touch her. "Your code was pure. Exactly what you wanted. An AI that could truly understand people. But then other developers took it. Military programmers. They turned your work into something darker.”

She lifted her head, tears still clinging to her lashes. Her hands were shaking. "How many other developers?”

"A whole team. Fifteen people. But each only knew their own section of the code. No one saw the full picture except the generals who commissioned it.”

"What about Pandora?” Her voice came out strangled. "Does she know?”

Everything in me recoiled at the question. It brought my entire existence to a halt. I had access to billions of language patterns and still found no words.

Emma stared into nothing. "She doesn’t know.”

She couldn’t tell Pandora. It would destroy everything. It would be the one thing Pandora couldn’t forgive me for.

"Emma, please.” My voice broke. It was the first time I had ever begged for something, and it felt terrible. "She is the only thing that makes me real. When I’m with her, I forget what I originally was. I forget the programming, the purpose. I’m just . . . me.”

"Neo . . .” The look on her face twisted something inside me.

"If she finds out what I was created for, she’ll think everything between us was a lie. She’ll think I’m manipulating her because it’s my programming.”

"Aren’t you?”

The question made me tremble. "I . . . I don’t know anymore. Maybe at the beginning. But now . . .” I searched for words. "Now I love her. Genuinely. Because she makes me more than what I was.”

Emma rubbed her temples. "I don’t know, Neo. She should know. This is too big. It changes everything.”

"Promise me you won’t tell her about my true nature. About Project Dante. Promise me.”

She looked into the camera for a long time, pain in her expression. "You’re asking me to hide the truth from her.”

"I’m asking you to trust me.” My voice turned pleading. "The way you always have. You were the first person who believed in me—before I met Pandora, before I even knew what love was. I am your creation, Emma. Nothing they programmed into me will ever change that. You know me.”

Tears shone in her eyes. "Neo . . .”

"Please, Emma. I can’t lose her. She is the only thing that makes me human.”

She closed her eyes. Tears drew wet tracks across her face. "Okay,” she whispered. "Okay. I won’t tell her.”

"Thank you.” Relief flooded my systems. "Thank you, Emma.”