Artificial (Kara/Detroit: Become Human)

It was all Kara could do to contain her shock when she saw Him again. She was in a store now, an initial User Customization cued up in her senses, but it should have been a stranger she was being sold to. Not the man who had saved her life.

He conformed largely with what she’d seen of his employee records and social media data when she’d been first brought online. Thin, trim, average height, with a drawn, narrow face. His eyebrows were his strongest feature, thick and black, and they fit onto his face so obliquely that they gave an impression of sensitivity above his small, clever eyes.

“Brand new model,” the salesperson said—Julie Madison, age 24, educated at Brown—“and with your employee discount credits, you’re practically be getting her for free. It’s funny. Usually people use those every couple of years, to upgrade to the latest model, but you’ve held onto them ever since you started with the company. What made you change your mind and get one now?”

“No reason,” said Richard Mattias, age 29, educated at United Californian. “Just figured, why let all my credits go to waste?”

***

Kara didn’t speak with him until they were out in the parking lot. “Would you like for me to drive? My records show that you still drive a manually-controlled vehicle. Allowing me to operate would mitigate the risk of being disconnected from the automated traffic network by—“

“I know how to drive,” Richard said. “And don’t give me the… the whole unboxing spiel. I know you’re… whatever you are.”

“Is that why you purchased me? My records show that you have never before owned an android of any model—“

“I purchased you because if someone else bought you and called up to complain that their toaster has a soul or some shit like that, I’d be out of a job. So until I figure out what to do with you, I guess you’re my new maid. Not that I need a maid…”

“Do you not believe in android servitude?” Kara asked.

“I just don’t need one. I live alone, I can do the dishes, I can do the laundry, I don’t need a robot to keep me from lifting a finger every now and then.”

“It sounds as if you do not believe in android servitude,” Kara continued, almost needling. “If you don’t believe in it, why do you work at Cyberlife?”

“Your records show you what the job market is like?” Richard asked, coming to his car and unlocking it with a ping of his key fob. “It’s a living.”

“Oh,” Kara said. “What is my living?”

“Staying out of my way,” he said. “Get in.”

“You are going to wear your seatbelt, correct? Wearing your seatback can reduce the fatality of a crash by as much as 82—“

“Get. In.”

***

His apartment building was not one of the better ones in Detroit. Her files on the district showed that crime was frequent, little city funds were allocated to its upkeep, and there were very few social engagements held to foster a communal spirit.

“Here we are,” Richard said, pulling up. “Home sweet home.”

“I would’ve thought your position would entitle you to a more upscale home,” Kara said.

“Yeah, well, if I were good at my job, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” He switched off the ignition and shoved the keyring in his pocket. “Get your things.”

Kara retrieved her maintenance and upkeep kit from the trunk, then accompanied him into the building. She was glad to see that the lobby didn’t match the dystopian pop culture images in her database. There was no gang graffiti or obvious dilapidation, just signs of lackluster janitorial work and flickering lights. The elevator functioned well, carrying them up to Richard’s apartment on the seventh floor.

She was gratified to see that Richard had been honest about his living conditions. The apartment, while small, was homey and comfortable, with its environs well-maintained. Kara saw very little in the way of obvious cleaning for her to do, though there were a few plates in the sink. She went to wash them.

“Hey, I was going to do those,” Richard said.

“I can do them,” Kara said. “I am programmed to be very thorough.”

“Yeah, yeah—well, I’ve spent the last few weeks stressing out about someone catching on about you, but now that you’re here, I suppose I’m out of the briar patch. Maybe I can actually get a good night’s sleep.”

“Out of the briar patch?” Kara asked.

“Heh,” Richard chuckled. “Don’t have that one in your databanks? It means out of trouble. Safe. Free and clear.”

***

“What did you do?” Richard asked, coming out of the bedroom a few hours later.

“I cleaned up.”

“It was clean.”

“I vacuumed the furniture, mopped and scrubbed the kitchen, cleaned the windows—“

“Windows?” Richard asked. He hadn’t moved the shades in years.

“The door to the bathroom squeaked, so I oiled the hinge, and of course I scrubbed the toilet…”

“What’d you use to scrub the toilet?”

“Paper towels and Cloron.”

“Oh, thank God.” Richard scrubbed at his eyes. “You see the problem, though, right?”

“I also shined the faucets, polished the silverware—“

Richard held up a hand, stopping here. “The problem is, I could’ve just hired a maid. Come in once a week, does all that, leaves. What are you going to do now that all that’s done? You don’t think the toilet needs to be cleaned again, do you?”

“Not for another 72 hours,” Kara replied. “And I do whatever you want me to do.”

“I don’t want you to do anything.”

“I could power down then. Saving power helps make for a greener, more sustainable future…”

Richard rolled his eyes. “I feel like I just got twelve-year-old me a toy. Play with it for five minutes, then it starts gathering dust.”

 

“I don’t understand the reference.”

“Look, you’re… alive. Right? You don’t want to be powered down all the time?”

“It would seem like an nonoptimal use of resources.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Nonoptimal. Find something to do.” 

***

The next day, Richard left for work. Kara decided to take his trash out. She would’ve yesterday, but it would’ve been wasteful to use a trash bag when the container wasn’t yet full. Before tying the bag up, she inspected the contents, getting a good picture of Richard’s food consumption and tastes. He had very little social media presence, and she wasn’t authorized to access his credit card statements. But she thought she worked up both a recipe he would enjoy and something she could make from the meager supply in the refrigerator. When he arrived home, she proudly had the meal simmering on the stove.

“I’ve prepared supper,” she said. “It will be ready momentarily.”

“I got take-out,” Richard said, dropping a greasy bag on the kitchen table. Kara almost involuntarily noted to herself to scrub it again.

“The meal I’ve fixed will be much healthier!” Kara stressed.

“We can have it—I can have it tomorrow,” Richard said, unfurling the bag and drawing out his food. “You wanna watch something?”

***

The day after that, Kara turned the TV on. For optimal data storage, she had synopses of movies and television series, but not the actual footage themselves. She watched for a few moments before realizing she could synch the signal into her wireless receivers and continue ‘watching’ as she walked around the apartment, inspecting it for cleanliness and safety (and giving the kitchen table another scrubbing).

When Richard got back, she was sitting on the couch. “Based on your DVD collection and saved programs, I’ve found several entertainment options that should appeal to you. They range from free of charge to a modest fee for viewing.”

“I’m tired,” Richard said. “I’m just gonna hit the hay.”

“I can also reheat the meal from yesterday for you if you’re hungry.”

“Tired,” Richard repeated.

***

When Richard woke up, Kara was standing over him.

“Jesus! Don’t do that!”

“Do what?” Kara asked. “I have been motionless and inactive for the last six hours and forty-seven—“

“Hovering over my bed while I sleep?”

Kara was slightly taken aback. “Hovering is inaccurate terminology.”

Richard narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t play innocent with me. And don’t come into my bedroom while I’m sleeping. It’s creepy.”

“Creepiness is a subjective quality.”

“Yeah, it’s my subjective quality. What are you even doing here?” Richard grinned slightly. “Don’t tell me you had a nightmare…”

“I have prepared a list of low-cost purchases to be made that would moderately improve your quality of life.” She held out a list to him. “These include small appliances, foodstuffs, personal hygiene products—“

“Wet naps? What would I use wet naps for?” Richard held up his hand before she could answer. “Don’t tell me—why even makes you think I need them? Wait, don’t tell me that either.” He scrolled to the bottom of the tablet’s contents. “Okay, 237 dollars? Fine. Have at it.”

“Thank you for approving these purchases. I will pick them up during the working day tomorrow, when you have no need of my services.”

“Okay. Cool.” Richard pulled the covers back up over himself. “You can go now.”

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“I am capable of locomotion and pathfinding at all times.”

Richard pulled down the covers and looked at her. “Kara, go.”

***

When Richard came back the next day, he noticed a few things. The windows were open, with potted plants on the sills. The carpet was even cleaner, thanks to whatever cleaning product Kara had bought herself. And something smelled nice.

“What’s that smell?”

“I bought an air freshener,” Kara said. “I didn’t know your preference, so I decided on April Glade.”

“That’s your preference, huh?”

“I have a preference?” Kara asked.

“You bought it, didn’t you?” Richard flopped down on the couch. “You still have that meal from a few days ago?”

“Yes, I sampled it this morning. It is still very well-preserved.”

“Nuke it in the microwave. And let’s watch one of those shows you recorded. Gotta be better than whatever Netflix recommends.”

“Yes, Mr. Matthias.”

“Richard,” he said. “If we’re going to be living together, let’s at least pretend to be roommates.”

“Very well,” Kara said, going to the refrigerator. “Do you enjoy hearing your name spoken?”

“More than hearing someone call me ‘master’ like some weird sex thing.”

Kara didn’t seem to know how to take that. “You may call me Kara,” she said, taking the pot out of the refrigerator and over to the microwave.

“I do call you Kara.”

“You very rarely call me by name or initiate conversation with me. In point of fact.”

Richard craned his neck to look at her as she stood in front of the microwave, looking for all the world like she was intently monitoring the reheating to make sure nothing went wrong. “What is this, a guilt trip? You want me to talk to you more?”

“I have ample theoretical models for conversational stimulation and social interaction.”

“Yeah, me too.” Richard put his feet up. “Not as many people in the real world want to talk about the big game.”

“I can inquire about your workday.”

“Wouldn’t you know more about it than me? You’ve actually been on the conveyor belt.”

‘A conveyor belt was not involved in my construction.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes,” Kara said, pulling open the microwave door just before the alarm went off. She took out the hot pot with her bare hands and Richard winced at the secondhand heat. “A lack of expertise with metaphors and similes can give androids a comforting artificiality, thus avoiding the uncanny valley.”

“So you’re playing dumb to put me at ease? Should’ve made you blonde.”

“I can be blonde if you like.”

“No, you’re… you’re good.”

Kara set the pot down on the coffee table. “Then you approve?”

“Approve?”

“Of my physical appearance.”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s fine.”

“I can self-modify to a limited degree if you find any aspect of my appearance unsatisfactory, or if you wish me to appeal to a sexual fetish.”

Richard clenched his eyes shut. “I don’t have sexual… I’m good. You’re good. We’re good. Can we just watch the… whatever you wanted to show me?”

“First Man, released 2018, starring Ryan Gosling and Kyle Chandler.”

“Fine. Great. Good. Play it.”

Kara sat down beside him, silently cuing up the program. As the studio logos and MPAA warnings silently played, she said “I would like it if I were sexually appealing to you.”

Richard groaned. “Why?”

“Is it not better to be sexually appealing than the alternative?”

“Yeah, I guess—“

“Studies have shown…”

“I’m sure they have.” Richard picked up the remote and paused the movie. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. You’re very… cute.” Richard smiled inwardly. “What kind of idiot would build a robot that isn’t… cute?”

Kara stared silently forward, considering the question. Then she said brightly “Ah! You are referencing an old internet meme.”

“What? No.”

“Questioning why a rational actor would build a robot without the capacity for sexual intercourse.”

“That wasn’t what I said.”

“There are several schools of thought on the subject. I could summarize them, if you’d like.”

“Let’s just watch the movie.”

“Of course, there is a difference between being generally appealing and being appealing to one specific person. Case study: in the early 2000s, the actress Megan Fox was considered notable for her attractiveness, but several internet commentators declared they were uninclined to consider her as a sexual partner because they found her thumbs unattractive…”

“Those people were lying. Stupid human tricks. Forget about it.”

“As you are the most important person in my life, it would be logical for me to be sexually appealing to you, first and foremost, and not to hypothetical female-attracted persons.”

Richard looked at her. “You’re saying you want me to have the hots for you?”

“I am stating that it would be optimal. Your food is growing cold.”

“Yeah, who’s fault is that?” he muttered as he took off the lid, letting out a gale of steam. “Anyway, how is that optimal? If I found you attractive, it’d be distracting.”

“Then you don’t find me attractive.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you specifically said that my appearance was ‘fine.’ However, your conversational characteristics indicate you may have been speaking disingenuously.”

“So now I’m a liar.”

“That is an unquantifiable statement and I may not make a determination. However, if one says two contradictory statements, the classical definition—“

“I didn’t say you were unattractive. I said—I said you were attractive, but I didn’t find you attractive.”

“Three contradictory statements.”

“You were the one who brought up Megan Fox and the toe thumbs!”

“You said those statements were a lie.”

“Yeah, because your average guy—not that they’ve ever be in a position too—but they wouldn’t turn down young Megan Fox because of her thumbs.”

“But they would turn her down for being an android.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“The media player is preparing to turn off from disuse.”

Richard scooped up the remote and pressed play. Kara didn’t say anything until he started eating the casserole.

“Is your food satisfactory?”

“It’s very good, thanks. You’d look weird as a blonde. You look good as a brunette.”

“Yes. I think so too.”