conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for a book with the title 'This Alien Shore'
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: This Alien Shore
  Thanks also to Cordwainer Smith for a few precious sparks of inspiration which fans will no doubt recognize. He is one of the most remarkable writers of the 20th century, and one of its most bizarre imaginative artists. Yes, there is science fiction stranger than mine. Go read it. And to Oliver Sachs and Temple Grandin and all those other writers who struggle to reveal the alien landscapes inside the human brain. If my fiction is ever half so gripping as their daily truths, I will have accomplished something great.
  Sometimes the most impressive acts of courage are not dramatic ones, such as we like to read about, but quieter, almost imperceptible ones. Sometimes they are not even recognized as such until their time has passed. My mother was a woman of such courage, and her spirit affected all who knew her.
  At age 20 her heart was damaged by disease, and she was told she would not live past 30. She could have given up then and refused to live, as many do, but instead she chose to go on as though she had no deadline, as though Death did not dog her every step. Most of those who knew her never knew that anything was wrong. She would have considered it weakness to tell them.
  She was told that if she tried to have a child it would kill her. She wanted a child, and so took the chance and had me. She lived. Later she risked it again, and had my brother.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs. End with the sentence ' He leaned closer to the screen.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Numbers appeared in the center of the screen. 10 first, then 9, then 8... the pattern was clear. He watched the countdown with a mixture of annoyance and real frustration. Goddam whoever was pulling this shit, if he actually screwed up any of Phoenix's work. The only thing worse than a war between hackers and the government was a sniping vendetta between hackers themselves.
  Then: 0. The dot exploded into a circle of black smoke, which in turn became a rising column, which in turn became capped with a thick mushroom head that spread across his screen—
  The mushroom cloud faded from his screen and block letters appeared instead. IS THIS A MONITOR I SEE? WHATCHA, PROGRAMMING FOR DINOSAURS NEXT?
  Despite himself, he smiled. It was hard, really hard to hate Nuke. The guy was an irritant extraordinaire, but so was half of Phoenix's crowd. It came with the territory. Still, he really did want to get back to that virus, and he wasn't all that comfortable with having someone else access his system while it was in there.
  There was a long pause. He knew Nuke well enough to know what that signified, that the subject being discussed might really be serious. He leaned closer to the screen.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She chuckled softly. "My dear boy, there's no condition of the human soul that Guera hasn't dealt with. There are kaja even for the changing ones. Special customs, even for them."
  He turned to look at her. Guidelights from the main docking ring reflected highlights across his face. "Why did you spare her life? It would have been so much easier to kill her. I m sure the others would rather have had it that way."
  Sonondra Ra smiled. "You do understand so little of us, don't you?" She gazed out at the starscape with rapt attention. "There were other Guildmasters who wanted her dead. Therefore I saved her life." She chuckled softly. "It will all make perfect sense to you once you understand our ways. As you will someday." She paused, and for a moment merely observed it all: the stars, the station, him. Then she asked, "Have you thought about my offer?"
  He drew in a deep breath, and felt like a swimmer about to immerse himself in measureless depths. "You sure you want to do this?"