A woman talks to an operator in charge of running simulations. The woman asks if she can have a simulation in a botanical garden with her deceased mother. However, the operator says that such a request is prohibited, as it’s too addictive for people to run simulations with dead people. They then get into the technicalities of how some dead celebrities are allowed but only if they don’t exclude simulations in their will. However, the operator says that the privacy of simulations means that they can never be sued—their rules are mere courtesy.

The woman asks if she can circumvent the rule by requesting a person who is similar to her mother, but the operator says that it wouldn’t actually be her mother. The operator then says that honesty is required in order to prevent glitches, because confusing the difference between reality and fantasy could lead to disastrous psychological consequences given that simulations are derived from the user’s brain. According to the operator, if the woman lies about her mother’s death in order to get a simulation with her, she may leave the simulation thinking her mother is still alive in the real world given how convincing a simulation can be. In another case, the operator says, the mother may appear both dead and alive, which has historically led to gruesome simulations.

The operator asks the woman if she prefers a different simulation. The operator says that she can do whatever she wishes within reason, like visiting another country or having a sexual fantasy. The woman questions why sexual fantasies are not seen as too addictive, but the operator explains that simulations are assessed on a case-by-case basis anyway, thus prohibiting deeply problematic sexual fantasies or simulations involving problematic representations of certain demographics.

The woman asks the operator what the best simulation they’ve ever run was. The operator then talks about a playwright who wanted to simulate an original show—ultimately, the original show would become a more realized version of the play he was writing in real life. The operator thinks back to both how horrible it was but how wonderful it was to help realize someone’s dream.

The operator then goes on to explain that all simulations are addictive but that some addictions are not as bad as others. Many simulation users are rich and spend lots of their money on sexual fantasies or other vices, which no one pities. However, simulations having to do with grief—seeing loved ones and so on—only end up exploiting vulnerable people. The operator says no one would want to run simulations if they knew they were making a killing off of grief.

The woman, desperate now, asks for the simulation with her mother on the condition that she never comes back. However, the operator refuses. The woman then goes on about how she wants her simulation, with the botanical garden, its glass roof, its tropical rainforest, how her mother is holding her arm and telling her about plants. The operator still refuses her request, given that transcripts are recorded and processed by artificial intelligence, meaning that the operator could be fired.

The operator asks the woman what else she wants. The woman wants to ride a unicorn.