Jack of Harts

I’m not sure what it’s like when you read this, but the Personal Assistants I grew up with weren’t real people. They were just AIs. Artificial. Not truly intelligent. They were designed to help us. To make our lives easier. A lot like servants. But they weren’t alive. The way biological or cybernetic intelligences are. They only thought what they were programmed to think. They couldn’t make themselves better like we can. They weren’t sentient. They weren’t human. Even mine. But you know something? I always wished she was. A real girl. A real person. Someone who could really care about me. Not just…follow her programming. Lots of people are content with the programming. I wasn’t. Lucky for me, I discovered real girls…