by Diana Jean
Or she would, after she checked her emails.
Curling under her duvet, she tapped on her wrist. A reminder that she wasn’t required to come into the office for the rest of the week was already displayed. She had half-hoped that Tamura would insist. But no, she was expected to stay home and thoroughly test her new PLC. Then probably go out in public. Goddammit, it was going to be a very long week.
Then again, the only people in the company that knew she was undertaking this were her direct subordinates and Tamura. She was sure that whenever she next went into the office they would be judging her. Even though they would be polite enough not to ask any inappropriate questions, she wondered if Fukusawa or the others would lose just a little respect for her.
Kathleen eventually had to leave the confines of her bed. She was hungry and her sleep cycle had gotten too used to waking up early. She stepped to her door, peering through into her brightly lit living room.
Ai was seated at her table, flipping through channels on the TV by waving her hand in front of her. She was still wearing the same cheap shirt and shorts she came in. In the morning light it was even more apparent that the fabric was lacking. Kathleen went to her closet, grabbing an old bra and panties, along with a worn shirt she had brought from America and a skirt that she had outgrown. It would all probably look hideous on Ai.
She stepped from her room. Ai didn’t even look up. She just continued waving her hand to browse through the channels. “Done hiding?”
Kathleen threw the clothes at her. “I was sleeping. And here are some new clothes. Please put them on.”
Ai looked down at the garments. “New?” She sounded doubtful.
Kathleen stalked over to the kitchen, ready to shovel something into her mouth just so she wouldn’t have to talk to Ai. “Well, they are better than what you are wearing.”
Maybe she could convince Mashida to form a contract with some department store, get them to contribute real clothes in different styles. It would look a lot nicer, to open up the PLC and find them dressed in your preferred style. Maybe if they made something like a deluxe package with brand clothes and accessories.
Kathleen selected a tub of yogurt and turned around to find Ai shedding her top. “H-hey!” She jabbed the yogurt in her direction. “Have some decency!”
Ai didn’t even cover up. She just smirked at Kathleen, dropping her default shirt. Then she slowly picked up the ratty bra. “You said you weren’t attracted to women. What could bother you?”
Kathleen knew she was blushing, so she scowled. “That doesn’t matter. You are a stranger!”
She snorted, easily hooking the bra behind her back. “I was programmed from your cortex scan. I’m probably more familiar to you than your family.” She threw on the shirt, tugging on it. “Rutabaga Jazz Festival?” she read. She looked up. “Please tell me there were actual rutabagas there.”
Kathleen put a spoon in her yogurt, just eating out of the container. “College jazz concert. No vegetables. Plenty of weed, though.”
Ai quirked her lips. Then she slipped off her shorts and Kathleen had to turn around. She might have plenty of experience with locker rooms, but that definitely didn’t mean she just gawked at random girls. She poked at her yogurt. What if Ai was a guy? It would probably be a little more disturbing, she guessed.
Her wrist beeped and she looked down to see that Fukusawa had given her the notes from the morning meeting that she missed. Nothing too big, which she expected, given that until she turned in her reports on her PLC, very little could be done.
She put the yogurt away, deciding that she might as well get started. She sat uncomfortably at her table, tapping the surface to bring up her computer. She hunched her shoulders as Ai sat beside her. The clothes were very ill fitting and didn’t match at all. Kathleen ignored her curious expression and opened up her document, typing furiously. She had to acknowledge the gender mix-up, but she also didn’t want it to sound like a complete malfunction. Perhaps there were other parts to Ai’s appearance that were to her taste. Then at least it was only one major flaw, instead of a total breakdown.
Kathleen looked over to Ai, who had gone back to watching TV. With the beer clear of her system, she was able to remove her emotions a little better. Ai was a very pretty woman. She had some of the round features of Japanese descent, but her eyes were very wide and the color unusual. She had long limbs and was taller than Kathleen, but she did not look awkward, folded up next to the low table. Even with a terrible choice in clothing, she wore it comfortably and somehow made it all look less grungy than it should have. Kathleen might have even said she was beautiful, if she was given the chance to dress up.
Kathleen had never thought of herself being especially attracted to the Japanese aesthetic. But she could admit that she was somewhat jealous of Ai’s long, sleek hair. She wondered if she were to thoroughly run her hands through it, could it even be tangled? Brandon had never been able to run his hands through Kathleen’s hair. He would just jam them up there until they were trapped while they made out. Then they would have to work together to free him. Oddly enough, her hair never looked messier than usual afterward.
Ai still looked like Yuriko. And Kathleen closed her eyes, forcing the thought away. They were similar, that was all. There was no way they could look the same. Just a coincidence. An astronomically rare coincidence.
Kathleen decided that her thoughts were turning stupid and turned back to her report. All of Ai’s other functions seemed pretty normal. There were no issues with coordination or simple problem solving. She had already showed that she was exceptional at reading Kathleen’s moods. And, if Kathleen was being completely honest, her personality was refreshing. She was snarky without being cruel, honest if a little blunt, confident, and able to know when to talk to Kathleen or leave her alone, like now. Kathleen supposed that in an ideal partner, she would want someone with a little more warmth, perhaps more tactile. But she was also sure that if Ai were to embrace her, it would be totally uncomfortable.
She was getting sidetracked again. She had to come up with a more efficient plan to test Ai’s abilities. All she had done so far could be tested in the lab, and probably had been by Engineering. She had to see what Ai would do, given an entire day alone. Could she been given an errand and complete it without Kathleen? How would she interact with new people, whose personalities weren’t programmed into her code?
And, perhaps Kathleen’s biggest regret, she would have to constantly observe Ai for an extended period of time. Test to see if her dialogue became repetitive, her actions too easy to predict, over a few weeks. Kathleen had no chance of completing this project early if she wanted it done right.
Then there were other basic functions to consider. Ai had the ability to eat, but then had to extract it when appropriate. She was also entirely functional for sexual acts. Kathleen had no intention of testing that out, whether Ai was a woman or a man or a dog. If Tamura asked her, Kathleen would throw a chair at her.
“What’s that face for?”
Kathleen turned to find Ai staring at her, her chin in one hand again. “What face?”
Ai waved her free hand. “The ‘I’m slightly pissed off but I’m not sure at what’ face.”
“You think I am unsure of the reason why I’m angry?”
Ai raised a single eyebrow.
Kathleen frowned. Was Ai actually reading into Kathleen’s expressions? Or was it some subroutine in her program to try to draw answers out of Kathleen when she couldn’t decode it? Kathleen made another note on her report. She would have to ask Fukusawa about it.
“I am not angry. I am just very stressed.”
“Anything I could do?”
Kathleen narrowed her eyes. But there was nothing inappropriate in her tone. “Um, clean the dishes?”
Ai gave her a funny look, but stood and stepped into the kitchen. Kathleen didn’t have much in the way of dishes. It wasn’t like she had to feed more than one person. Hearing Ai running the water, Kathleen
turned back to her emails, which had been piling up since yesterday.
“Anything else, goshujin-sama?”
She looked over her shoulder to find Ai already done with the dishes, smirking at her. Kathleen actually didn’t know what that meant. “What does gokshujen mean?”
“That is not a word.”
“You know what I meant!”
Ai took a rag and started wiping down Kathleen’s stove. “You have such faith in my programming that I can read your mind?”
“You are supposed to understand implications.”
Ai ignored her “How about I teach you some Japanese?”
“Why should I learn Japanese?”
Ai turned and raised an eyebrow.
Kathleen waved a hand. “I mean, I know I should learn Japanese. But why do you want to teach me?”
Ai turned to the rest of the counters, casually cleaning Kathleen’s entire kitchenette. “I’ve been programmed to be Japanese; obviously it is supposed to be some use to you.” She grinned. “And I don’t think you are the type to just have a serious case of ‘yellow-fever.’” She paused. “Well, not entirely, anyway.”
“If you are suggesting that I have a weird Asian fetish, you are mistaken.” But Ai’s other words intrigued her. Could the cortex scan somehow read Kathleen’s anxiety that she lived in Tokyo, but didn’t know any Japanese? If a customer wished to learn a musical instrument, would their PLC be programmed to be a professional musician? Was Ai only Japanese just so she could be capable of teaching Kathleen Japanese?
It was something Kathleen had not anticipated, but potentially beneficial. But was this the only reason Ai looked Japanese? Had Kathleen’s need to learn Japanese outweigh her physical preferences, at least according to the cortex scan? Perhaps some faulty preferences were why Kathleen received a female instead of male. She made some more notes to discuss with Fukusawa and her team.
“So?”
Kathleen looked up to find Ai leaning over her counter, looking down at her. “What?”
“Do you want me to teach you Japanese?”
Kathleen sighed. “Okay, just for today.”
Ai snorted. “You are not going to learn an entire language in one day.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Kathleen quickly learned that having a computer that can learn and adapt teach her a foreign language was absolutely fascinating. Ai, after logging into Kathleen’s computer, was quickly able to write her own language program so that Kathleen’s system was suddenly flooded with vocabulary lessons, grammar games, practice sessions, and much more. Then, as Kathleen struggled to absorb the basics while taking notes for work, Ai would change the program.
It was interesting—so much so that Kathleen found herself practicing Japanese long into the afternoon with Ai. They only stopped for a quick lunch, Kathleen was so engrossed. She learned a little kana and a few simple phrases. She also learned, after much insistence, that she did not appreciate being called goshujin-sama by Ai.
“What's wrong with it?”
Kathleen frowned. “I am not your master and you are not a slave of mine.”
Ai grinned. “It doesn't have to be a slave.” She leaned forward, legs folded neatly below her and hands delicately pressed on the floor between them. “I could just be a maid in your service.”
“Now you are just sounding perverted.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“Not relevant to our situation. Stop looking at me like that, it’s making me uncomfortable.”
Ai leaned back. “How about koibito?”
“What? Lover? What did I just say about our situation? No. You may only refer to me as Kathleen.”
Ai pouted. “How about Ka-chan?”
“No.”
“You are no fun.”
“Does your programming insist that you call me by some nickname?”
Ai was back to lounging against Kathleen’s table. She seemed to be in a perpetually relaxed state. “Maybe it means that you secretly like pet names.”
“Well, I like my name just fine.”
Kathleen turned back to her report. She was just finishing it up for the day, getting ready for it to be sent out to Tamura and the rest of Kathleen’s team.
“Don’t be like that.”
Kathleen stopped, looking to Ai. “Like what?”
“I managed to get you relaxed for several hours and now you are all stiff again.”
“I am not stiff. I have to finish this report.”
Ai sighed. “Fine. Did you want to go out for dinner?”
Now that made Kathleen stiffen. “No, absolutely not.”
“If you are afraid of ordering then I can—”
Kathleen shut down her computer. “No, you are not allowed to leave this apartment. Ever.”
Ai frowned. “But what about—?”
“No. This is a direct order. You are not to leave my apartment or answer the door without my express permission.” Kathleen had written into the code the ability for a vocal direct order. It was to be used as a safeguard if there was ever a problem with a PLC. No PLC could deny a direct order, no matter what it was. If a customer directly ordered their PLC to never speak, the PLC would not speak, even if their programming gave them a chatty personality. It could be reversed, but Kathleen definitely didn’t want Ai to go out in public. Kathleen could take enough data from the privacy of her apartment.
Ai was silent for a moment and her eyes went slightly vacant. But it was only a second. Then she blinked, looking to Kathleen. “Affirmative.” She smiled. “Okay, do you want me to make you something to eat for dinner?”
Kathleen breathed a sigh of relief, glad she’d written the code herself. “I need to go out to get some groceries. Then you can make me something.” Perhaps she would find something really strange and see if Ai could make something that Kathleen would enjoy.
Ai nodded then turned back to the TV. She did not make a comment or ask to go along. Kathleen smiled, feeling a little better.
Kathleen didn’t like grocery shopping in a country where she couldn’t speak the language. Granted, the Japanese did have an affinity for putting pictures on their food, making it easy to guess. But having to guess half your grocery basket is stressful. Especially if you’re trying to find something specific.
Even when Kathleen lived in America she never was that creative with cooking. She could cook chicken and beef pretty well. Just about every meal included pasta. She didn’t mind eating the same thing day after day. But when she came to Japan, she found her usual vegetables to be interspersed with ones she didn’t recognize. She never knew which Japanese dressing or sauces were good. And meat in Tokyo was very expensive. Kathleen knew she should learn to cook fish one day.
So Kathleen often took the easy route and went to the convenience store. She could easily pick up something prepackaged and heat it up if needed. Half the time she didn’t know what she was eating, but she wasn’t that picky with flavors.
But if she wanted Ai to cook something, Kathleen should probably buy raw ingredients.
She stared at the fish in the supermarket, wondering if the flashy price tag meant it was a special deal or a discount from being a day old. Perhaps Ai would know how to cook it? But that required Kathleen to buy one and pick out other ingredients that would go well with it. Should she also buy rice? She had never made rice before. Did she need a rice cooker? She had seen the rice aisle, filled with many different bags, all sizes and colors. She hadn’t known that there could be so many varieties of rice.
Kathleen clutched her shopping basket. Would it have been worth it to bring Ai along, if only to read her the Japanese? No one would recognize her as a robot, right? Kathleen was almost ready to run away, go to the convenience store, and just buy some instant ramen.
“Kathleen?”
Kathleen turned around to find Yuriko standing there. She was in her business suit, holding a laden shopping basket. She was looking at Kathleen as if shocked to see her there.
Kathleen felt her stomach plummet somewhere around her ankles. It wasn’t just the hair or the eyes. She and Ai were honestly twins. They had the same pointed nose, the same height and build. Even Yuriko’s concerned look was replicated in Ai.
Kathleen couldn't feel anything below her chin and she wondered how she was still standing. Why did Ai look like Yuriko? How could this happen? What did it mean that Kathleen’s cortex scan had managed to spit out a perfect replica of Yuriko?
A mistake. Like the gender, like everything that had gone wrong since Tamura had given Kathleen this assignment. It all was just some big mistake.
“Y-Yuriko!” Kathleen spluttered, trying to sound friendly and normal and not like she was having a minor crisis. “Tell me what fish is good!”
Yuriko stared at her and Kathleen realized she probably shouldn’t have shouted that. “Fish?”
Kathleen tried to calm herself down. “Y-yeah, I’ve never cooked fish before.”
Yuriko still looked at her like she was a little crazy, but she seemed to brush it off and turned toward the display of fish. “The karei is good. It’s pretty simple.”
“Which one in the karei?”
Yuriko pointed to a flat, alarming looking fish. But before Kathleen could panic about having to buy an entire fish, scales and bones, Yuriko picked up some fish fillets. “Here, so you don’t have to clean it.” She dropped it into Kathleen’s basket.
Kathleen sighed. This normal conversation was helping her nerves. “Thank you. Do you know what goes well with it?”
“Umm, just simmer it in some soy sauce, mirin, and some ginger. You could probably just add any vegetables you like. Just serve it over rice.”
Kathleen toyed with the fish in her basket. “Can you show me what mirin is?”
Yuriko looked a little annoyed for a second, then her expression changed. “Your pronunciation has gotten better.”
“My what?”
Yuriko motioned for Kathleen to follow her. “Your Japanese. Have you finally started taking lessons?”
“I— uh, yeah. Just a computer course.” Was it really so noticeable? Kathleen had only parroted a few of Yuriko’s words, after all. “I just started today.”