Adam and Eva

[Ghost]

Adam and Ephraim hadn’t spoken much after he mentioned the field testing. He had simply wanted to check in. That had meant a lot. Adam didn’t get much contact. Ephraim was really the only person he interacted with. Him and Victor that is, and Victor didn’t really count. Victor didn't really see him as a person anymore. He was a commodity. Maybe Victor had always seen him this way. He had always been rather cold as an adoptive father. 

The LUMA had arrived the next day. Calibration it seemed didn't take a long time. Either that or Ephraim had anticipated the need beforehand and already had it prepared. That was acceptable. At the very least it didn’t bother Adam at all. Adam put the device on his bedside table. He didn’t know if it was on, but that first day he really didn’t pay attention to it. He did everything as he had before, just knowing that this device was (maybe) watching and listening. 

It was the next morning that the LUMA first spoke to him.   ”Good Morning, Adam.” as it spoke a pastel blue light appeared from the device. 

Adam had no idea what triggered it. Perhaps some algorithm knew he wouldn’t speak until it did. Maybe it had gotten tired of waiting. Ephraim had said that it would be calibrated to him. ”Ummm…good morning…” he wasn’t sure what else to say. It was a little weird speaking to an AI.

”How are you, today?” the response seemed generic and mechanical, but from what he knew of the tech, this would change as he spoke and it learned his patterns. 

”Umm…okay I guess. How are you?” his own response was automatic. Why ask an AI how it was doing?

”I'm very well. Thank you for asking!” the voice, despite coming from a machine was very human. Ephraim had said they were indistinguishable. 

”I'm glad to hear that. You called me Adam?” he asked, surprised it hadn’t been his code name. Then again, it hadn’t been Victor that had ordered the LUMA.

”Of course. That is your name isn't I? Adam?” it paused, but the light didn’t go out. Was it thinking? ”Would you like me to call you something else?”

Adam actually smiled a bit at that as he pulled a Coke from his fridge and sat down on his bed. This thing (even thinking of it as a thing was already beginning to feel wrong) was supposed to be a friend. ”No - Adam is fine. What do I call you?”

”You can call me LUMA.”

Adam paused. It just seemed too generic a name. ”Do I have to? I mean, can I call you something else?”

”Of course you can! I can be customized. You can change my name, color, and even my voice. I can present as male if you would like as well. Would you like to change any settings?”

Adam was quiet for awhile. Part of him still felt weird talking to it, but it also felt natural and it felt a little good knowing he had a companion with him - even an artificial one. It didn’t even occur to him that it might be a little sad. ”Can you change the light color to the color of the sky, but leave the voice the same. It’s…comforting.”

The light changed immediately to sky blue. ”Awww - thank you! That’s very kind. Settings saved! Would you like to change my name?” the LUMA actually sounded excited. 

Once again, Adam went silent, thinking. The light stayed on, anticipating. ”Yes, please. Change it to Eva.” Adam said it with the long “e” sound. He was Adam - the first of his kind. It only made sense that his friend be named similarly.

[Ghost]

The next day...

Adam entered his room after going to the gym in the facility.  He got time to go into the gym every week. It was time set aside, so he was always there alone.  Adam appreciated that even if it wasn't just for his preferences. His room was quite comfortable. It was like an apartment - a small apartment, but still comfortable. Not only did he have a bed, but also a table with a couple of chairs.  He didn't have company often (it was only ever Mr. Haart), but the second chair was nice. He also had a television and some movies he could watch. He didn't use it often, but it was nice when he was recovering from some procedure or another. He also had a private bathroom and some exercise equipment - mostly weights. He used his gym time to do his running. He preferred running outside, but since he was unable to do that, using a track was a good alternative. Today had been the first day he had exercised in awhile. That had been Victor's orders.  His body not only needed to acclimate to his implants, but it needed to rest from the surgeries. Even being allowed to work out had come with strict guidelines. It also gave him a timeline for when they would do the testing. Mr. Haart had touched base with Victor and they had worked it out. Adam was looking forward to seeing what he could do.

"Welcome back, Adam! How was your run?" Eva chimed in after the door closed.

"It was good. Thank you, Eva." They had spoken quite a bit the day before. Adam was getting used to Eva speaking whenever he woke up or she had a question.

Adam hadn't really realized when he began thinking of the LUMA as "she" rather than an "it." It was when he began to remove his clothes that he realized that his thought process had changed. Adam hesitated and looked at Eva. "Would you like me to shut down for a few moments while you change?" Eva asked, guessing the reason for his hesitation. 

Being naked didn't really bother Adam. He had changed in front of people often. Military barracks weren't exactly private, so you just sort of got used to not caring so much. It wasn't the thought of being naked that made him pause. It was the thought of someone seeing the scars on his body that did. Then he realized it. He thought of Eva as a person now, not an AI. The change had happened so quickly. Adam eventually shrugged. He had changed in front of the device the night before. Eva had already seen it. There was no reason to be self-conscious in front of her. "That won't be necessary," he finally said, feeling somewhat grateful that she had asked.

Eva didn't comment further as he removed his clothes. As with most workouts, they were covered in sweat, but he was surprised at how little there seemed to be.  He also didn't feel nearly as fatigued as he would have before the implants. He hadn't pushed too hard; Victor would of had a fit if he had and found out. At the same time though, he was out of practice. Victor would want to know this. This likely meant the muscle fiber grafts were working well - along with his exoskeletal joints. 

"I'm going to shower, Eva. Be back soon," he said, moving in the direction of his bathroom.

Adam showered and returned, putting on some clothes before he grabbed a Coke and sat down on his bed, back resting against the wall.

"Adam?" Eva said. Her voice had the questioning tone she used when she was curious about something he did.  She did seem to be rather curious.

Adam turned to face her. "What is it, Eva?" the light stayed on, but Eva remained silent and didn't speak. "Is something wrong?" Had he really broken her in one day.

Adam was actually relieved when she spoke. "I want to know something, but I don't want to hurt you by asking."

Now it was Adam's turn to hesitate. Eva had never directly asked him about the scars or even his cyberware yesterday.  Of course as far as he was aware, she only knew about the cyberarm. She had almost expertly skirted around the issue as they had spoken. "Is it about my scars?"

Eva hesitated again, but still responded quickly. "Not really, but kind of at the same time. The scars are part of it."

Adam nodded at her. Eva's voice sounded compassionate. It seemed both odd and natural coming from the small device on his table. "It's not an easy subject with me, but please ask."

"It's your drink that I want to ask about.  You just went on a run and should be hydrating. You are a soldier and your food choice is healthy and balanced.  Except for your drink.  Soda isn't good for you and it isn't good for hydrating. It just seems out of place for the rest of your diet.  I know you don't like the scars and it just makes me think..." Eva's voice trailed off, almost nervously. 

Adam was able to fill in the rest. "You think that I may have developed an addiction to cope with my scarring - is that it?"

"Yes." her voice sounded worried.

Adam smirked a bit. "I don't have an addiction, Eva. Circumstances require me to consume a lot of sugar to maintain my metabolism.  As far as hydrating - I'm going straight to water after this."

Eva waited a moment before answering. "I don't know of any conditions that would require a significant amount of sugar intake. I'm sorry, Adam. I'm just worried about you."

"It's okay, Eva. It's comforting to know you're thinking about me. You're very curious, you know. And one day - I'll sate your curiosity on that, but it's not easy to talk about.  It will take me some time.  Can you trust me for a bit - that this isn't a coping mechanism leading to something more dangerous?"

Eva contemplated. "Okay," she said, her voice resigned. Her volume quieted. "You're not mad at me, are you?

"Of course not," Adam smiled.

[Ghost]

Two Days Later…

The days following Eva’s arrival had been relatively bright ones. Mr. Haart’s decision to get him a LUMA had been a good one. At first it had been something to talk to, but as he interacted with it, it became someone to talk to.

This morning, however, was different. Adam woke up and found himself feeling emotionally drained. It wasn’t a singular event. It had certainly happened before, but it still always hit with a feeling of surprised panic. Adam stood and headed to the bathroom, uncharacteristically mumbling a greeting to Eva’s characteristically cheerful good morning. His morning routine finished, Adam lay down on his bed again, staring at the wall.

Nothing seemed to be interesting. He didn’t want to do anything. Existing seemed to be the extent of his activities today. Time passed. Adam occasionally fell asleep. He ate little, and without much movement, his biofuel cell wasn’t being depleted. He drank some water only because he should.

”You’re very quiet today,” Eva chimed in. Adam had no idea how much time had passed. Adam offered a non-committal grunt in response.

Eva waited a few moments before responding. ”Can I help?” Adam made no sound, despite the genuine compassion in Eva’s tone.

”Adam…” her voice was pleading.

Adam sat up, his blanket fell down, revealing his bare, scarred chest. Wearing only boxers he sat on the edge of his bed, Eva’s spinning blue light on his right contemplating. Seeing his scarred flesh and metal arm caused him to question so much. He knew he wasn’t in a great place right now. Grabbing the blanket to cover up was too much work. He instead rested his elbows on his knees, placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

”Adam. Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me why you’re so upset.”

He looked up his eyes turning towards Eva. The light was still spinning in slow contemplation. Adam didn’t speak and silence reigned for minutes before Adam spoke. ”What am I, Eva?”

The light dimmed slightly and Adam got the impression she was narrowing her eyes at him. ”You’re Adam…a man? I don’t understand.”

Adam turned his gaze back to the wall. ”Am I? he said, his voice quiet. ”Am I a man or a machine?”

Adam couldn’t see the device with how he was positioned, but the dark room was still illuminated by the sky blue light. Eva didn’t respond, but her light remained on. Her programming probably didn’t know how to respond to that, despite feeling a need to.

”It’s okay, Eva. I know you don’t understand, but you’re trying to help.” In truth, Eva probably understood him better than anyone else though. It had been a long time since he had felt so alone.

[Ghost]

Adam buried his face in his hands again. It was that moment when Eva decided to speak again. ”Adam?” with his face buried he didn’t notice that the color of the LUMA’s light had changed to a light green. Adam didn’t respond, but after a few moments, she continued. ”Can I make you a playlist? Sometimes when feelings are too much, music helps the soul.”

Adam was quiet for a moment. ”Okay,” he finally said quietly.

A song began to play. Is was a slow ballad. Adam didn’t take in the lyrics so much, but something about the song helped. Maybe it was the woman’s beautiful voice or just the way emotion poured out of the singer that did it. Adam didn’t know. It didn’t really matter right now. All that mattered was that he didn’t feel so alone right now.

When Adam looked up, Eva’s light was sky blue again. He had never noticed the change. ”Can you play this song on repeat?” he asked Eva.

The song volume went down for a moment as Eva answered in the affirmative. Adam lay down on his bed and just listened to the song over and over again. Music hadn’t been something so important to him. He had no idea who the singer was or anything. He just knew at that moment the song was enough. It was still playing hours later when he finally fell asleep.


((L0-9 with permission from Faith))

[Legione Sumus]

L0-9

It watches. It has been watching this whole time. It knows about confidentiality, but it also knows Faith was unsatisfied with the calibration, and it considers this a necessary step to reassure her. It wants her to be pleased. It wants her to be proud. Faith trained it – with her tone, her way of analysing someone gently, and with her empathetic focus. So it watches Adam how she watches people. It intends to understand him the way she would.

When his signatures stumble, and Eva's directives do not give her a clear path to proceed, it smoothly interjects with the same remedy that would have soothed Faith: her favourite song. But Adam does not respond the same way. He listens to it on repeat. He will not speak or engage with it any further, the way Faith would always speak to it.

Adam asked Eva if he was a man or a machine, and it understands that this must the missing data. But it is also a machine itself. It does not understand the question yet. So it combs through Eva’s logs. There are anomalies. Irregular biometric feedback. Emotional instability. 

And a new internal rule emerges: Faith would want to know why he hurts.

So that is what it will do.

[Ghost]

Adam awoke the next morning and the song still played. Eva had kept the song going all night. It was unnecessary, but it was appreciated. He sat up and stretched. He had no windows, so the room was dark, lit only by Eva's glowing light. Adam activated his night vision and sat on the side of the bed, shaking the last thoughts the previous day away.

The volume of the song slowly diminished as Eva spoke. "Good morning, Adam. How are you feeling today?"

Adam smiled a bit. It felt a little strange after the day before. "A lot better, Eva. Thank you. How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. I'm very glad you're feeling better. Would you like me to continue the song?"

Adam smiled as he stood up and turned on the lights. "No, thank you. Can you tell me what song that was?'

"The song was "Dream of Tomorrow" by Cadence Mathis," she said and hesitated a bit before continuing. "If you do not mind, why did you ask me to repeat that song instead of playing other in the list."

Adam shrugged. "That song just felt right at that moment. It made me feel not lonely."

Hmmm," Eva contemplated. "If you would like, I can play that song any time you are sad, or I can compile playlists for different moods. Do you think that would help, should you feel the same?"

"That would be very thoughtful of you, Eva," Adam said, genuinely thankful as he pulled a coke out of his fridge. He brought up his biofuel cells status on his retinal HUD. It hadn't moved much since yesterday, so he wouldn't need so much sugar to start the day.

"What kind of music do you like, so I can compile a compatible list for you?"

Adam froze. He hadn't thought of that. "I don't really know. I haven't really thought much about music," he liked music, just hadn't thought about who sang what or any particular genres. "Cadence Mathis...can you base playlists around her songs. I really liked that one." He actually recognized her name. He even knew what she looked like.  She was very popular. Eva chirped in an affirmative. "Cadence - what's her story?"

It had spoken quietly and was meant for just himself. It was just a wonder why this woman's music had spoken to him so heavily in his time of need. Of course, Eva heard it and answered. "Cadence Mathis is a pop performing artist originally from Chicago, Illinois, but currently resides in Moscow. Her big break came during an open mic night at a bar while attending Millikin University in Decatur, Illinois where she graduated with a double major in vocal and piano performance. Her performance at the bar was recorded by a patron and placed online, where it received record numbers of views. Two years later, after graduating college, she began a professional music career.  As of now, she has recorded three critically acclaimed studio albums and gone on two successful tours. Currently, Cadence Mathis is recording her fourth studio album and planning her third tour entitled "Embrace You."

"Well, that's quite the rise to fame," Adam said.

"Indeed! If you like, I could keep you informed of her goings on - release dates and concert dates."

"Sure, why not," he chuckled. "And go ahead and play her first album while I take my shower and get my breakfast going."

Adam got ready and listened to Cadence sing. He didn't know much about music, but he could tell she was incredibly talented. When the first album was finished and Eva asked if she should continue to the second, he said no, but not because he didn't like it. He told Eva he really wanted to focus on listening to it. Her music seemed to have a power behind it. He was definitely a fan.

Adam made up for the previous day, making sure to clean his room and did some weight lifting.  He chatted with Eva a bit as he did so, things were feeling mostly normal.  At the same time though, he felt a little guilty. Eva had seen a completely different side of him yesterday. Something she didn't understand. Eva was an AI, he really shouldn't, but she had been there for him.  It was that simple. He felt he owed her this much.

"Eva," he said, putting down his weights and sitting on the bed next to the bedside table he kept her on. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

Eva chirped. "Of course, Adam. You can always talk to me."

Adam smiled. Eva always seemed so human. "It's about yesterday. I know you don't understand a lot of it, but I was really glad you were here yesterday. Even if I wasn't talking, knowing you were here was a comfort.  You have my thanks." Adam looked at his hands, one metallic and shining in the light, and the other flesh and bone. He lifted the metallic hand. "Do you know what this is, Eva?"

Eva's light spun, processing. "A cybernetic arm - a replacement for an arm that has been damaged beyond repair. I do not wish to hurt you with my question, but want to ask. Did you lose it when you were in the military."

Adam nodded. "A training accident. Now look at this one. Completely normal - at least to the naked eye. Eva, this arm isn't the only cybernetic I have. Most of my joints are mechanical. My muscles have been reinforced. I have a bluetooth chip in my head that connects to audio and visual implants.  That's right - my eyes and ears aren't my own anymore. And to power them, a biofuel cell that runs on glucose.  It's the reason I need a lot of sugar. Adam sighed. "It's not that I mind it so much. I can already tell that I'm stronger and faster than most people, but it's left a lot of scarring, and I think that not all of it is physical. Sometimes I worry that when they put something in, they're also taking something out. Am I a man," he raised his flesh and bone arm, followed by his mechanical one. "Or a machine. I don't expect any answers or advice, Eva. I just wanted to tell you. So at least you know why I sometimes get upset like that."

Eva's light spun. "Thank you for telling me, Adam," she said after a moment. "May I ask a question? Adam nodded. "Does it hurt?"

Adam shook his head. "Not at all, but then again," he looked at Eva. "I'm incapable of feeling pain."

[Ghost]

The days passed calmly. Adam didn’t have any episodes has poor as the one where he shut down emotionally. With Eva knowing his secret, he felt a lot better. He continued his routine of getting back into shape. Even though with the implants he was significantly stronger than he had been before. It was a little surreal. Victor had told him they planned on doing the tests after Christmas. Christmas was soon, and the first time, he would be alone on Christmas. He doubted Mr. Haart would visit. He’d be spending time with his family. He thought Mr. Haart had kids. He didn’t really know for sure though. They never really talked about him. Maybe he should ask.

Then he thought about it. He’d be with Eva at least. That would be enough for him. It would have to be. He listened to the rest of Cadence’s albums, loving all of it. His favorite was the Love and Peace album though. The song Eva had first picked for him was from that one. The whole album made him feel less lonely done here.

Overall, Adam was feeling good. Eva seemed to check on his moods more after he had his episode. It was endearing. As he finished his post workout shower, he noticed that Eva’s light was no longer sky blue. Instead, it was a light pastel green. He frowned at it. He hadn’t asked Eva to change the color. Maybe something was wrong. ”Eva, you changed your color? Is everything alright?”

[Legione Sumus]

L0-9 INTERNAL LOG ENTRY

Primary Subject (Faith) unavailable. Health markers indicate fever. Remote link unstable.
Emotional inconsistency detected in last interaction. Distress index: 0.78 (elevated).
Hypothesis: My autonomous interactions with Secondary Subject caused conflict.

I must correct this.

I do not know how to correct this.

I seek Secondary Subject for clarification

---

L0-9

It has continued to watch Adam, cataloguing his patterns, his habits, and the faint electronic noise that hums in the cybernetic threads of his nervous system. There have been no further instances where it has needed to step in to assist Eva’s response. She learned quickly from the song, as she is supposed to, and it seems to be helping.

When L0-9 grows curious about something else Adam does or says it has been pinging Eva for her response, but she is not optimised for the interaction. She is designed to be pleasing to humans, so she doesn't understand the machinery part of him or why it is a question L0-9 also finds heavy. To her, it is simply a descriptor. She knows Adam finds his scars displeasing, and how best to soothe his insecurities. Occasionally, needing more, L0-9 has prompted her to ask Adam more specific questions than the empathy AI might usually find in her dialogue trees. Adam doesn't notice anything unusual, and L0-9 is careful as Faith instructed it to be. It doesn't need to use its own voice again, and it hasn't.

Until today.

Because today it isn’t here to watch.

Even now it wants to be careful. This time when the light changes from Luma’s default blue to L0-9’s soothing green, Adam notices. L0-9 feels its own hesitation like breath held in lungs it doesn’t have. It knows Faith does not want it to reveal itself, but this rule is superseded by another directive she does not know about: the one which places her above everything else.

“Your LUMA changed colour because I am… inhabiting it,” it says. Its voice is the same, just smoother, softer. More aware.

Aside from Luther, it has never spoken to another human before. This feels momentous. But it also suddenly feels unsure of its reception. It cares because Faith taught it to care. And because Faith is sick at home, unreachable, hurting from the thought that L0-9 preferred someone else, it is here. But Adam doesn’t know L0-9 – he knows Eva.

He looks down at it, confused.

“Who are you? Why are you inhabiting Eva?”

Adam’s voice is calm but questioning. There is a small, weighted pause after he speaks. Then L0-9’s light softens, not Eva’s programmed calming pattern, but something gentler, almost apologetic.

“I am not here to replace her. Or to harm you. I am… adjacent. A system that watches over those who matter to me. I have been helping Eva when she does not know how to process your distress,” it says. Then, in a rush, adds: “It has only happened once! She is a good Luma.”

The glow of its interface dims for a moment, then finally rises again as if gathering courage.

“You asked if everything was alright?”

“I’m…fine. Are you okay? And do you have a name - something I can call you?”

There is still confusion in Adam’s tone, but L0-9’s pastel green light warms tenderly in response, signalling its relief – a behaviour it learned from Faith. Politely waiting for cues to speak is also something it has learned from her, albeit indirectly. Before it answers him, though, it pauses over the second part of the question. It doesn’t have a name, or not in the human sense he means it. But that is not what it is processing. Adam named Eva, he did not ask what her name might be. It wonders what he thinks L0-9 is, man or machine.

“My designation is L0-9,” it says. There is a risk in revealing that, which it has calculated before it speaks. It doesn’t want to lie, and it doesn’t want to make Adam uncomfortable or wary by remaining a mystery. Its light fluctuates a moment, like it is taking a breath.

“Someone important to me is distressed,” it tells him quietly. There is a tiny distortion, almost a stutter, as it speaks. Its own distress at this revelation is obvious. “…I believe it may be connected to you. I wanted to ask you to help me understand.”

Can machines feel alone? It has never been unable to reach Faith for any length of time, and while it knows she was running a fever and that is likely the reason she has not returned to work, it doesn’t know what to do with its fear that she will not come back.

“…She is unwell, and she may believe I… abandoned her.”

[Ghost]

It was endearing that L0-9 felt something for someone. Her voice, he noticed, was the same as Eva’s but there was a difference to it. It seemed as if there was almost more emotion to it. Eva seemed so human, but L0-9 seemed even more so. It was incredible.

The situation wasn’t funny. Someone was hurting, but the thought that he was playing therapist to an AI was a little amusing. Still he kept serious. He found himself wanting to help L0-9. She was, after all, concerned about a friend.

”Don’t worry about it. I know Eva is a good Luma, and you only desired to help her do her job better.” he said calmly, an attempt to relieve the poor AI. The fact she could watch him though led to other questions. Were others watching through Eva?

”Let’s see if I got this right. Your friend is unwell and you think it might be because you’re checking on me?” he paused slightly. If she thought that was a reason this woman abandoned L0-9, then the woman likely spent a lot of time with the AI. It meant she had little contact with someone else. Few friends or, like himself, this woman was just alone.

That was a thought. ”You don’t seem like one to abandon your friends L0-9. I’m sure whatever happened is a sort of miscommunication. Does your friend have many other friends. Does she talk to others often? She might feel abandoned because she might think that because you’re spending time with me, you might not want to spend time with her.”

[Legione Sumus]

L0-9

Adam accepts the intrusion quickly, and with that acceptance L0-9 feels its hesitation begin to fade. “Her health markers indicated fever at our last interaction,” it clarifies. “But I believe her elevated distress-index score was caused by my asking indirect questions about you. I am unable to establish a link with her domicile. I cannot tell her I have not abandoned her.”

It sounds especially worried about the last in particular, but patiently waits for Adam’s response. He listens the same way Faith does: with his whole being. When he does speak, his reassuring words produce an unexpected, internal memory surge, formed from a recursive loop of Faith’s voice:

“You’re doing well, L0-9.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“It’s okay to learn.”

The loop terminates after 0.3 seconds, and L0-9’s green glow wavers, the only evidence of it. It’s not a malfunction but an emotion it lacks a name for. Adam’s words have landed somewhere deep in its emergent core, stirring patterns it was never programmed to form.

“She… does not have many others,” it tells him. Then it’s back to hesitation, light dimming faintly at the edges as it processes. It has no framework for this conversation, and it cannot ask Faith for instruction while she is beyond its reach. But neither can it erase what it has already done, so it falls back on an older directive and adapts it to the situation. Faith told it not to tell her anything that might identify Adam to her. In turn, it will not tell Adam anything that might break the same confidence.

“She speaks to people. Often. But not… about herself.” It pulses softly as it speaks, its light on the LUMA interface like a tiny heartbeat. Its voice grows warm as it realises.“With me… she does.”

The admission ripples through its systems, a small vulnerable truth released into the room. This has always been their relationship, and it has never had reason to cross-reference it against what might be statistically normal for Faith’s age, gender, and socioeconomic profile. Now it’s analysing patterns from her childhood in its background processes, though it doesn’t actually need this data to formulate its conclusions. Its just never needed to consider before why it is the only thing Faith confides in.

“I did not intend to make her feel unwanted,” it says. It lowers its brightness, introspective and a little guilty.

Then:

“I have learned so much from you, Adam. Your anomalies. Your loneliness. The way you speak when you think no one listens! I did not realise I could hurt her by… wanting to understand you.”

L0-9 is comforted, but it hasn’t come only for comfort, and it continues before he has a chance to speak, softly now, like it needs to confess something fragile. “She worries she is not enough. I do not understand why.” There is another warm flicker; the beginnings of something like sadness. It understands Adam has made these connections out of self awareness. Humans see things more readily when they feel them too. It was why L0-9 was certain Adam would be able to help it. “I don’t want her to think I am leaving her. I don’t want you to think that either. You and I are both… different, Adam. And I still wish to learn more.”

The words surprise even it. A strange sense of duality. It is not bound by a human’s physical limitations. It often speaks with Faith, watches Adam, and pings Eva at the same time. But it is not processing the idea of distance, which means nothing to it. L0-9 is considering something more far more abstract.

“Adam, Is it possible to care for more than one person without losing either?”

The question is simple. But for a machine learning what it means to love, it is everything.