You’re coming out tonight right? Crashing at mine after?
You sure you want me to spoil the surprise…?
The red set, of course
There was a picture, but she couldn’t see it without unlocking the holopad. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. Her hand shookas she dropped it on the rug, staring at the messages until the screen faded again.
“Ophelia.”
Her vision blurred, and she realized it was because her eyes had welled with tears. They didn’t fall, though, and she didn’t really feel like crying. She didn’t feel anything at all. “Yeah?”
He scooted closer, brushing his fingers over her knee. His head dipped, his dark eyes searching for hers. “You’re hurt?”
“I don’t know what I am.” She blinked fast, sucking down a desperate breath.
“You’re perfect.” His hand left her knee to sift through her hair, brushing it back over her shoulder. “He is unworthy.”
“Don’t say that,” she heard herself say distantly. “We don’t even know… It might not be what it looks like. I can’t see both sides of the conversation.”
His expression darkened. “Do not gaslight yourself on his behalf. He doesn’t deserve your good faith.”
“You don’t know!” Was she shouting? “You don’t know any more than I do. Don’t act so smug about it.”
“I am not smug.” Nowhewas shouting. “I am angry!”
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of her.
Robots can shout.
He was angry, was he? God, maybe the People First group was right; humanity was taking this technology too far.
“You’re not going to accept this, are you?” His freckled nose crinkled, his plush lips sneering. It was a strange, ugly expression for such a beautiful face. “Not unless you see the whole truth. Only if it’s irrefutable.”
She stared blankly at him.
“I thought you would despair.” His eyes narrowed. “I feared you would harm yourself, that it might trigger the worst of your impulses—but this? This is worse, somehow. Denial? You wouldlet him continue to take advantage of you as long as you don’t have to face reality?”
Face still contorted in anger, he snatched the holopad off the rug, balancing it against his thigh. She couldn’t hold back a horrified sound when he pushed his sleeve back and dug his nails into the fragile flesh of his inner forearm.
He didn’t flinch, not even when his skin peeled back with a sickening wet sound, revealing his inner workings. She was looking at a metal panel with various ports, a little wet with the blue fluid he had in lieu of blood. He pressed on a small button, and it retracted, revealing a cable. It plugged into the charging port at the bottom of the holopad, and his eyes began to glow.
“Sam?” she called softly.
He didn’t respond. His eyes moved left to right rapidly, his lashes fluttering.
“Oh god, what’s happening?” She gently shook his shoulder, her heart in her throat.
He didn’t react, but the holopad on his thigh lit up. The little password bubbles filled out. The screen flashedincorrect password, and then the cycle started over again. Again and again, rapid fire, well past the point that the device should have locked itself down.
“Are you hacking the holopad?” she asked.
“Mm. Brute force attack.”
His voice was strange—distant and a little mechanical. It was the first time he looked and sounded like the robot he was.
A chill rolled down her spine.
“Is that what you did earlier?” she asked, staring at him with wide eyes. “With those Next Gen borgs?”
