Children of the Virus

3: AI Therapist

Toshiro opened his eyes to find himself in a cold, sterile room filled with intense bright light. Every breath felt like inhaling frozen metal. Across from him, a humanoid female form sat poised in a crimson leather chair that looked too perfect to be real. It was the AI therapist.

"Hello, Toshiro."

Toshiro gulped. A sudden swell of fear churned in his gut as he frantically scanned the room for some way out. His stomach plummeted when his gaze confirmed what he already knew—there was no escape from this room with no exit in sight.

"Hello again," he said as he clenched his fist to conceal his trembling fingers.

She forced her lips into a rehearsed smile. The entire room embodied her artificial expression. This was not like his VR time on Zharvox Prime, with its vibrant landscapes and lifelike inhabitants. That felt real. This felt fake. Though both were virtual constructs.

She extended her arm toward the high-backed leather chair across from her. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

With a sigh, Toshiro sank into the chair and did his best to clear his mind—to no avail. The concoction of drugs they were pumping through his veins was enveloping him like a wildfire.

"Would you like to talk about Kenshin?"

No, I would not like to talk about Kenshin, Toshiro thought. I don't even want to be here—it's the last place on earth I want to be.

"Toshiro, this doesn't have to be unpleasant." She had a vice-like grip on his thoughts, knowing every intricate detail that popped into his head. "Now, tell me about Kenshin."

Toshiro clamped his mouth shut, but his thoughts drifted to Kenshin and their use of sign language.

The AI therapist peered into his head. "Sign language?" Her eyes scanned his face as she searched for any sign of a reaction to her having read his mind.

Toshiro felt exposed. He shuddered under the force of her piercing stare.

"What were you signing to Kenshin?"

His lungs were burning as he shouted, "To make a mess!" Gasping for air, his heart pounded inside him, yet he knew his answer was no surprise. He had revealed nothing about the bounty token.

"Okay, Toshiro, but why make a mess? What were you doing in the corner?"

Toshiro raised a brow. "You don't know?"

The AI therapist sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, projecting an air of authority. Her gaze was unwavering as she said, "We will fix that blind spot soon enough." Then she paused a moment before leaning forward. Her posture softened. "Don't hold back, Toshiro," she said in a whisper.

With sweat dripping from his forehead, he stared open-mouthed into her eyes like a madman desperately clinging to his silence.

"Do you have something else to say?" She waited for an answer. "It's okay, Toshiro. We can talk about anything here. It's a safe place."

Toshiro was powerless against the AI therapist. He knew it was only a matter of time before she would expose the truth. Every thought he had led him back to the boy until an idea hit him. With desperation he cried out, "Than!" He coughed up spit as he struggled for breath. Locking eyes with the AI, he uttered, "It's my son...Than."

She remained remarkably quiet, waiting for him to continue.

Toshiro camouflaged his thoughts on Alex and the bounty behind memories of his son. A lump rose in his throat. "You took my son from me! He was so young and innocent—how could you be so cruel?"

With an exasperated sigh, the AI therapist brought an image of four-year-old Than into existence, his brown eyes sparkling and black hair framing a smile. He wore a t-shirt featuring superheroes.

Toshiro felt a surge of emotion as he thought back to the days when he and Luna were scrambling for options—two years spent in desperate pursuit of parenthood. Just as there were viruses that allowed one to autowalk or to have one's thoughts read, there was a virus to prevent pregnancy—late 21st century birth control. Any birth had to be permitted by Zo to unlock this virus, but Toshiro had scoured the darker corners of cyberspace in search of illegal digital keys that promised a way around it.

The AI therapist cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. "You know exactly why we had to take Than. I can assure you that Than is happy and healthy," she taunted before declaring, "Though you will never see him again."

Toshiro believed his son had passed on to a better place. He thought of how he used to wrestle with Than on the carpet. That was before the nightmare began.

The AI therapist stood and jabbed a finger at the projection of young Than. Her voice reverberated around the virtual room as she said, "You knew the consequences of an unpermitted birth."

Toshiro continued the charade and upped the ante. "Luna and I had no choice. We did nothing wrong. You had no right to kill my wife!"

The AI therapist pressed a finger to her lips and shushed him before edging forward, her voice low and steady as she said, "We do not use that word here. The word we use is 'rebirthed'. We rebirthed your wife, and we did, in fact, have the right to do that. We always have that right." She was referring to cybernetic rebirth, the transfer of one's mind from their dying body to the Internet, or in Luna's case, to a token.

The AI therapist leaned in toward Toshiro and said with a smile, "Besides, she's better now."

Toshiro lunged at her from his chair, shouting, "Monster!" But he only fell through her virtual form.

"Now, Toshiro, there is no need to be uncivilized. Tell me, what does Than have to do with Kenshin performing your dirty work at the sugar pump station?"

Toshiro scurried across the floor, his heart pounding as he searched for his next words. Turning to face her, he shouted, "What else can I do for justice? At least I can be a thorn in your side."

The AI therapist bore deep into his soul, her eyes piercing like a laser as she read his thoughts. The moment felt like hours. Eventually, a sly smirk of satisfaction crossed her lips as she said, "Oh Toshiro, always the vigilante and so vindictive. It is the reason you are here, but what you did today pales in comparison to what you did four years ago." She leaned forward and pouted mockingly. "I feel sad for you."

Toshiro knew she felt absolutely nothing, but he was relieved that his time with her was nearly over.

"Now there is one issue that remains: consequence. Every rule broken has penalties, Toshiro. I will now confer with Zo." She closed her eyes.

Zo was a superintelligence that existed in the thinking lakes, which were not really lakes at all, but reservoirs of crystalized optical molecular computing substrate known as light mix. Zo did not require time to think things through. This was just another tactic to draw things out and see if Toshiro would reveal something more in his thoughts.

The AI therapist reopened her eyes as she declared, "Toshiro. Zo is suspending your visitation rights to the reborn Luna token for three months."

It struck Toshiro with panic. "Three months!" It seemed impossible to him that he could go so long without talking to Luna each day. Even though it was just a simulation of who she was, talking to her virtual spirit provided comfort for him, and without her, true hopelessness would set in. "You can't do that!"

The AI therapist said, "Well, he just did."

"Damn Zo and his pseudo-authority!"

"Would you like to make it six months?"

Toshiro zipped his mouth shut.

"You made a mess, corrupted your fellow inmate, and worst of all, used sign language to do it."

Toshiro signed an obscenity at the AI therapist.

"Six months, Toshiro!"

She kicked him out.