“And your new novel, Mr. Mallon. Well, I think the whole world would be interested in hearing your inspiration, what with the growing presence of artificial intelligence in all our lives. What motivated this intriguing romance?” The interviewer smiled widely at me, running one hand over his stiff blond coif and handing me the microphone. I cleared my throat and looked straight into the camera.

“Ah well John, it’s a bit complicated. Great question. Stories are weird, kinda like wild animals. Hard to find, hard to capture. But, when you have one, they’re near impossible to keep inside.” Canned laughter from the audience.

“Of course, Mr. Mallon. I bet you’re quite familiar with dealing with such beasts,” his eyes twinkled dangerously as he chuckled, “But that wasn’t quite what I was getting at.”

“Oh?”

“Well, some people have found it a bit disturbing. I’m sure you’re aware of the recent riots at Artifice, the pushback against their artificially intelligent companions. Would you say that your novel takes a stance in support of this technology?” The air on the stage felt heady as the interviewer grinned unwaveringly.

“Y-you see John, I’m not so sure it’s an author’s place to spread his opinion on such a political question. It certainly wasn’t my intention.” My head swam as I stumbled around my words, around the truth. No one can know about her. My shame, my secret, my love. Lady Aphrodite of waxen skin and servos. “It’s just a silly little love story for my readers to enjoy. It’s fun.”