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Description
Chapter 1 – First Date

Gakupo gazed at the bustling esplanade outside the windows of the coffee shop. Behind the cemented surface and its rows of neat planters and benches, several spaceplanes were taking off or landing. Some were just continental flights, while others made the round trip to Luna Base, or to one of the space stations circling the planet. It was an impressive sight, as the faces of the patrons sitting close to him attested. His focus, however, was on all the people between him and the landing strips: workers in jumpsuits, scientists, groups of schoolchildren herded by their teachers, tour guides and visitors from all over the world. There was such variety of color and shape in them, from such a basic template.

He recorded for later study many signs of non-verbal communication he saw through the glass. It was an area of particular difficulty for him, given the number of variables involved in determining the significance of a gesture, or a touch.

All in all, humanity was still astonishing to him, months and months after his activation. Always changing, always jumping from one thing to another, a fleeting glint in a great stream. “Impermanence” was the word his Master used when Gakupo first discussed it with her. It was such a foreign concept.

His makers had meant for Gakupo to stay the same, from factory to junkyard. He was never a child; he would never be an old man. The constraints of his default settings meant he learned new domestic and entertainment skills if his Master willed it, but nothing else. Like the automatons of ages past, his ancestors, he had meaning only as a tool to keep boredom at bay. Just an expensive toy. It seemed contradictory to him, to instill in synthetic beings the curiosity to learn, and then deny it so easily. It may have had fake roots, but it was curiosity nonetheless. Capacity for change.

But his Master was kind. She had allowed him to learn whatever topics he felt interested about, no matter the relevance to his daily duties as her companion. And that was only the first of her many gifts to him.

“There are many backwards people out there. Never let them know you are different.” One of her many pieces of advice, the words perfectly engraved in his memory banks.

She was taking a long time to return from the interview. According to his internal clock, it was 3816 seconds, 34 milliseconds since he watched her go into the main office building of the space agency complex, at the northern end of the esplanade.

Given the circumstances, it would’ve been proper to let out a big yawn, he thought. However, that was a result of his Master’s tinkering, and definitely not a currently active feature of his model. From his Master’s research on the topic, the ability was dummied out soon after the first units were sold, because many users found it unnerving. He didn’t actually think any of the customers in the shop were familiar with his factory settings, but he wasn’t about to risk it.

Especially since that little girl was staring at him so fixedly.

The girl sat restlessly at one of the nearest tables, a big cup of slowly melting ice cream before her. A woman, possibly her mother, sat beside her. She seemed in a world wholly of her own, poking at a tablet.

He couldn’t blame the child for staring, all things considered. Like most humanoid synthetics, he had an unnatural hair color, and strangely (for human standards) lit eyes. He wasn’t aware of the reasoning behind it. He was sure his makers were capable of a better simulation of human characteristics. He knew, however, why he had that specific shade of unnatural violet hair: it was his Master’s favorite color.

Finally, the girl leaped out of her chair and went over to him. He kneeled to reach her height and smiled politely. The mother eyed him with suspicion, but promptly decided the situation didn’t warrant direct supervision and went back to her electronic retreat.

“Hello. Can I help you, miss?”

“Your hair is purple!” The girl grabbed one of the long strands escaping his ponytail and yanked it hard.

“Indeed it is.” Sometimes not having pain receptors on one’s scalp was quite convenient.

The girl walked in a circle around him, with a knowledgeable air. She probably had never seen a model as advanced as him, at least in person, but some shows had synthetic servants as props to show the wealth of the protagonists.

“I’m Nandi,” She stopped in front of him, and offering her tiny, dark-skinned hand.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Nandi. My name is Gakupo.” He gave her a gentle handshake, but then Nandi’s other hand grabbed his sleeve, and she examined his arm curiously.

“Your hand is so much lighter than my Nanny’s!” she declared, pulling his arm left and right rather uncomfortably.

An old fashioned model, most likely. “Does she have metal skin?”

“Yup.”

“I’m a newer model than her, so they used different parts to make me.”

Nandi made an indistinct sound, apparently pondering the information. Then she pointed at his upper left arm. “What’s that?”

“This lets people know that I’m not human.” In fact, all humanoid synthetics were required by law to wear an id armband when in public, even though the information printed on it could easily be accessed by scanning the matrix barcode printed on his “earphones” with a mobile device.

Alternatively, they could simply ask him. He couldn’t lie about it, by design.

“This is my owner,” Gakupo pointed to the small color photo of a young woman with shoulder length black hair. Underneath it was her current contact information. “This is my official designation”, he added, pointing to a string of letters and numbers printed in white along the top of the armband. “And this is my emergency shutdown code,” he finished as he pointed to a shorter set of numbers, printed in bright orange.

“What?” The girl tilted her head.

“If I behave badly, the police can make me go to sleep with that code.”

“You get grounded too?”

Gakupo was about to answer when he caught sight of his Master entering the coffee shop. “I have to go now. It was nice talking to you, Miss Nandi.”

The girl pouted, but no human was as important as his Master. The woman waved at him cheerfully and walked over to one of the unoccupied tables by the windows. Gakupo stood up, nodded respectfully at Nandi and went to sit with his owner.

“I’ve got the job!” she announced with a brilliant smile as soon as he sat before her.

“I knew you would, you are an exceptional scientist.” Gakupo replied.

His Master just laughed, waving her hands as if to deny it, but obviously pleased. “I’ve got a lot to prove now, after that prize.” She paused for a moment, eyes turning downwards as she played with a napkin. “This project is something big, Gakupo. Finally, we’re starting to make the leap towards long-term missions… to really explore what’s out there.” She locked eyes with him once more, brimming with some emotion he couldn’t decipher. “We are going to be part of history!”

Gakupo smiled fondly as his owner launched in a longwinded explanation of the project and her role on it. In her enthusiasm, she had forgotten that he didn’t have the data files necessary to understand most of it, yet. He waited for a pause to point it out.

Before he could get a word in, a burly man approached the table. He wore a flight jacket with the name “I. Smith” embroidered on a tag in the upper left pocket.

“Hello, there! Congratulations on getting the job!” He greeted Gakupo’s Master with a big smile, as if they were old friends. Given his Master’s polite but guarded look, he surmised that it wasn’t the case.

“Thank you… I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Oh, no! I saw the old man showing you around, and since I knew today was the final interview…I’m Ishmael Smith, one of the navigators here. I’m part of the pool of applicants to join the new project too, you know.”

His Master relaxed, as her eyes examined the patches on the man’s sleeve with interest.

“I’m Mitsuki Torii. Gakupo, can you get Mister Smith a seat?”

Gakupo nodded and rose, but before he could move even a step away, Smith swiftly pulled Gakupo’s chair towards him and sat without even glancing at the synthetic.

“This will do just fine.”

Gakupo stood there for a second, confused. True, synthetics accompanying their Masters usually stood behind them as they ate, if they were even allowed inside the building. Therefore, the navigator likely didn’t consider a third chair to be necessary. But then his Master frowned.

“I prefer to have him seated as well, if you don’t mind,” she said coldly.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. Force of habit, that’s all. Most of the models serving in the agency hangars aren’t capable to sit at all!” Smith rubbed the back of his neck.

“I see.” His Master said, somewhat placated. She turned to Gakupo. “Get another chair, ok?”

Gakupo nodded and went to the closest vacant table. Behind him, he heard Smith’s amicable tone. “He is a pretty impressive fellow, I’ll grant you that. I inherited one of them myself, recently. Very well-made products.”

“You did?” Now he had his Master’s attention for sure, he could recognize the excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, a girl .” A small pause. “Well, as ‘girl’ as any synthetic can be, anyways.”

Gakupo grabbed one chair and carried it back. He could now see that his Master was leaning forward, almost as if ready to pounce.

“Oh, I’d love to meet her! I bet she’s beautiful!”

“…I guess so.” Smith seem amused by her reaction.

Her eyes darted around the room. “She’s not around here, is she?!”

“No, no, I don’t bring her to work.” His Master deflated somewhat, and Smith hastily added. “But I was thinking, maybe you’d like to go eat somewhere tonight, my treat? You bring your boy, I bring my girl, and the four of us go to celebrate your new job, huh?”

His Master’s eyes meet his for a moment, as Gakupo sat. It wasn’t her style to accept invitations from people she barely met, but she was obviously tempted by the idea of meeting the gynoid. Gakupo felt curious as well, since he had never met a female model before.

“That…that would be nice.” She nodded, after some consideration.

“Great! There’s this new place I’ve wanted to go…”

---

Gakupo looked at himself in the mirror, pulling at his id armband half-heartedly. The material of his haori bunched awkwardly around it, but he couldn’t adjust it properly. It clashed pretty badly with the traditional clothing his Master had picked for the evening, gaudy plastic against black and gray fabrics. Not that his hair and eyes helped the matter any.

His Master, on the contrary, seemed very comfortable in her lush kimono. According to his data files, all the elements in her outfit matched each other and complimented her natural attributes. She came to him and began fiddling with the armband herself.

“The car is almost here, Gakupo! You should’ve told me before it didn’t fit.” She smiled nervously.

“I’m sorry.” As if in response, the doorbell rang.

“Ooh, it’s here.” His Master grabbed her purse and a couple of other things from her desk with one hand, and pushed him towards the door with the other. “Come on, I’ll fix it on the way there.”

Ultimately, the fix involved pinning the unfastened armband to his sleeve. Both the armband and the haori gained a couple of holes from the experience before she was done. Once that important matter was resolved, his Master spent the rest of the trip speculating how the gynoid would act and look.

The restaurant was in the trendiest neighborhood of town, not a section they particularly frequented. When the automatic car stopped before the entrance, Gakupo could see that the sidewalks were full of fashionable people, young or otherwise made to look so thanks to chemicals and surgery. Everyone seemed delighted to be in the world, at that moment and place. He spied a cleaning bot tucked away in an alley, its unblinking red eyes staring fixedly ahead. Currently, it seemed to be the only one of his kind in sight.

One of the partygoers milling about blew his nose as he passed the synthetic, and then threw the spent tissue at the cleaning bot. It hit its forehead softly and fell to the ground. Unflinching, the bot advanced on it and sucked the tissue into its lower half.

The door of the car opened noiselessly, and a valet from the restaurant rushed to help his Master out. When Gakupo stepped out behind her, the valet looked at him with widened eyes, but said nothing. Ignoring his reaction, his Master strode gracefully towards the doors, past the line of people without reservations that waited outside for a free table. Some of them looked at the pair with unrestrained venom in their expressions.

What was the point of waiting in line, given the area was full of restaurants? Surely, the quality of food was more or less equivalent in the area, Gakupo thought. He diverted his eyes from them, recalling his Master’s advice: never stare at humans for too long. That usually meant about 2 seconds, unless they were speaking directly to him.

“I kind of wish we were back at the lab…” His Master muttered in an apprehensive tone. ”I don’t even like gourmet food.”

“I don’t either.”

His Master giggled at this, covering her mouth, and stepped past the beautifully carved doors of the entrance.

Inside, there was a rectangular room with some avant-garde (and likely quite uncomfortable) metal chairs, a corner table with a fresh bouquet of flowers inside a crystal vase, and directly opposite them, another set of doors, with a pedestal and an officious looking man next to them. The line of people ended in front of him.

To Gakupo and his Master’s right, there was a corridor with unmarked doors. To their left, a young bespectacled man peered at them from the coat check.

In one corner, Smith and a pink-haired woman stood waiting for them.

Gakupo heard his Master’s sharp intake of air, her laughter forgotten. “Oh, look at her! She’s so beautiful!” she gushed, almost childlike.

He had to agree. Judged under most of the standards Gakupo had been programmed with, the gynoid was gorgeous. Harmonious features, delicate curves and meticulously calculated proportions, all wrapped in creamy skin that no organic woman could ever have. Unlike his own, her eyes were aquamarine, and shone with intelligence and strength.

On the other hand, her face was completely inexpressive, so devoid of emotion that it immediately struck him as wrong. He wondered if there was some sort of problem with her systems. Was Smith keeping up with her maintenance?

“Good evening, Mitsuki.” Smith stepped forward, a wide grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mister Smith,” his Master replied.

“Don’t be like that, come on. Just call me Ish,” the navigator said. He partly turned towards the gynoid. “Luka, this is Mitsuki Torii, and Gakupo. Say hi.”

“Good evening, Miss Torii. It’s nice to meet you,” Luka said softly. Her voice was like burnt caramel, slightly husky but melodious. A couple of customers turned towards her with interest, and the young man handling the coats was already ogling her without any attempt at concealment. After a moment, her eyes turned to Gakupo, and the two synthetics stared at each other silently for a few seconds.

“Good evening” Luka finally said, barely audible. She inclined her head, burying her chin and cheeks in the white furs surrounding her throat. Her features remained blank through it all.

“Good evening!” Gakupo replied in a cheerful tone, despite being increasingly worried about her.

“Ok, now that we’re all friends, let go inside, shall we? Smith tugged ineffectually at the collar of his dress shirt, and walked towards the maître at the doors.

“Good evening. We have a reservation for four. It’s under Ishmael Smith.” He said to the man, who suddenly looked less than friendly.

“I’m afraid that there has been a misunderstanding on your part, Sir.”

“Huh?”

“We don’t allow synthetics inside the banquet hall, Sir. It’s clearly stated on our promotional materials.” At his side, Gakupo could sense his Master bristling at the words, under her still polite exterior.

“We’ll pay service charges for them as well. They won’t get in the way of your people.”

“The policy is in place to ensure both the comfort of our servers and other customers, Sir. This is not negotiable.” The man stated with an air of finality.

“Then we’ll leave.” His Master piped up, annoyed. Smith looked dismayed at this.

“Master, please go inside with Mister Smith. We’ll wait here.” His Master had to enjoy her evening out. All other considerations were secondary.

“See, they don’t mind. Right?” Smith looked at Gakupo and Luka expectantly.

“Please have a nice evening.” Luka said, the first indication she was paying any attention to the conversation. Gakupo nodded.

“I’ll have the boy at the coat check look over them, ma’am.” The maître added. Perhaps he just didn’t want them to stand around unsupervised. On the other hand, having them inside the coat check room meant having them out of sight.

“Mitsuki, if we leave here we’ll have a hell of a time finding a table anywhere else. You saw how packed the streets are.”

“…Fine.” The maître thanked her, and went to open the door to the coat check.

His Master turned to Gakupo. “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you later, ok?”

“Just have fun.” Gakupo shook his head, smiling.

Luka was already crossing the door to the cloak check, without sparing a look towards any of them.

“See you later, Master, Mister Smith.” He then rushed after his fellow synthetic.

---

“Surely, he doesn’t expect to confuse us with a coat, does he?” Gakupo commented quietly, poking at the number currently taped to the front of his kimono. He and Luka were standing side to side at the far end of the coat check, enjoying the company of a fine collection of expensive outwear.

“Maybe he wanted an excuse to touch my breasts.” Luka said, without looking at him.

Gakupo blinked, one of his most prized automated responses. “You…joke?”

“It is part of our skillset, isn’t it?” Her expression remained completely motionless, but there was more animation on her voice.

“It is. I just thought… Look, are you aware of the emotional output of your face right now?” Gakupo asked.

Luka looked at him briefly, then away. “Yes.” Gakupo waited a while, but received no further response.

“Are you… do you need technical assistance?” His Master was excellent at fixing his systems, probably even better than the company technicians his warranty provided.

“You are modded.” Luka stated, ignoring his question.

This conversation was turning out to be a great time for displaying his functionality. This time his programming went for a flinch.

“Your pupil time of response is under our factory standard range,” Luka commented mildly. “Your facial fluidity has been improved around 23%. Your voice harmonics also have been worked on- I believe your output in the range 2-4 kHz surpasses average results by 34.6%. Should I go on?”

Gakupo’s eyes darted towards the attendant, but he was busy talking to a group of people outside. In any case, Luka was likely speaking too low to be overhead.

“Are you going to report me?” He finally asked. One of the first things his Master had done after she bought him was to bolster his ability to stay silent about his unlawful modifications, but he still had difficulties with outright lying.

“I haven’t been ordered to do so.” Even if her face stayed the same, Gakupo could sense a smile in her tone. She looked downwards, playing with the fabric of her long skirt. “I believe….yes, envy. I am feeling envious right now.”

Not one of their most commonly simulated emotions, but a perfectly understandable response. Who wouldn’t want to have a better overall performance? Their very goal was to be satisfying companions to their masters.

All of a sudden, Luka took one of his hands in hers. “I won’t say anything, I promise.” She whispered. The fingertips of her right hand slightly caressed the top of his hand.

Gakupo observed the gesture, puzzled. Given the context, he was reasonably sure it had positive connotations, but was unsure on how to respond.

“Thank you,” That seemed appropriate enough. Then an idea struck him. “I’m sure my Master can refine your systems if Mister Smith asks her.” He whispered quickly.

“Perhaps.” She still didn’t smile, but her tone was light, almost playful. Moreover, she didn’t let go of his hand. Through her skin, Gakupo could feel the faint echoes of the machinery inside her, the flow of energy that reflected in her eyes. He placed his other hand on top of hers, wanting more of the sensation.

Luka could probably sense the minute vibrations of his systems as well, all of the polymers and circuits, his core ticking in synchronicity with hers.

There was so much new data to process here, in her touch. He would need time to sort it all out.

That was the moment when the notion of being what he was finally dropped its weight onto his shoulders. He did not own his days; he did not get to choose what to do with them. The future cared nothing for his opinion.

He looked at her eyes, tenuously glowing in the dim light of the room.

Perhaps he was the malfunctioning one, after all.

Description
Chapter 1 – First Date

Gakupo gazed at the bustling esplanade outside the windows of the coffee shop. Behind the cemented surface and its rows of neat planters and benches, several spaceplanes were taking off or landing. Some were just continental flights, while others made the round trip to Luna Base, or to one of the space stations circling the planet. It was an impressive sight, as the faces of the patrons sitting close to him attested. His focus, however, was on all the people between him and the landing strips: workers in jumpsuits, scientists, groups of schoolchildren herded by their teachers, tour guides and visitors from all over the world. There was such variety of color and shape in them, from such a basic template.

He recorded for later study many signs of non-verbal communication he saw through the glass. It was an area of particular difficulty for him, given the number of variables involved in determining the significance of a gesture, or a touch.

All in all, humanity was still astonishing to him, months and months after his activation. Always changing, always jumping from one thing to another, a fleeting glint in a great stream. “Impermanence” was the word his Master used when Gakupo first discussed it with her. It was such a foreign concept.

His makers had meant for Gakupo to stay the same, from factory to junkyard. He was never a child; he would never be an old man. The constraints of his default settings meant he learned new domestic and entertainment skills if his Master willed it, but nothing else. Like the automatons of ages past, his ancestors, he had meaning only as a tool to keep boredom at bay. Just an expensive toy. It seemed contradictory to him, to instill in synthetic beings the curiosity to learn, and then deny it so easily. It may have had fake roots, but it was curiosity nonetheless. Capacity for change.

But his Master was kind. She had allowed him to learn whatever topics he felt interested about, no matter the relevance to his daily duties as her companion. And that was only the first of her many gifts to him.

“There are many backwards people out there. Never let them know you are different.” One of her many pieces of advice, the words perfectly engraved in his memory banks.

She was taking a long time to return from the interview. According to his internal clock, it was 3816 seconds, 34 milliseconds since he watched her go into the main office building of the space agency complex, at the northern end of the esplanade.

Given the circumstances, it would’ve been proper to let out a big yawn, he thought. However, that was a result of his Master’s tinkering, and definitely not a currently active feature of his model. From his Master’s research on the topic, the ability was dummied out soon after the first units were sold, because many users found it unnerving. He didn’t actually think any of the customers in the shop were familiar with his factory settings, but he wasn’t about to risk it.

Especially since that little girl was staring at him so fixedly.

The girl sat restlessly at one of the nearest tables, a big cup of slowly melting ice cream before her. A woman, possibly her mother, sat beside her. She seemed in a world wholly of her own, poking at a tablet.

He couldn’t blame the child for staring, all things considered. Like most humanoid synthetics, he had an unnatural hair color, and strangely (for human standards) lit eyes. He wasn’t aware of the reasoning behind it. He was sure his makers were capable of a better simulation of human characteristics. He knew, however, why he had that specific shade of unnatural violet hair: it was his Master’s favorite color.

Finally, the girl leaped out of her chair and went over to him. He kneeled to reach her height and smiled politely. The mother eyed him with suspicion, but promptly decided the situation didn’t warrant direct supervision and went back to her electronic retreat.

“Hello. Can I help you, miss?”

“Your hair is purple!” The girl grabbed one of the long strands escaping his ponytail and yanked it hard.

“Indeed it is.” Sometimes not having pain receptors on one’s scalp was quite convenient.

The girl walked in a circle around him, with a knowledgeable air. She probably had never seen a model as advanced as him, at least in person, but some shows had synthetic servants as props to show the wealth of the protagonists.

“I’m Nandi,” She stopped in front of him, and offering her tiny, dark-skinned hand.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Nandi. My name is Gakupo.” He gave her a gentle handshake, but then Nandi’s other hand grabbed his sleeve, and she examined his arm curiously.

“Your hand is so much lighter than my Nanny’s!” she declared, pulling his arm left and right rather uncomfortably.

An old fashioned model, most likely. “Does she have metal skin?”

“Yup.”

“I’m a newer model than her, so they used different parts to make me.”

Nandi made an indistinct sound, apparently pondering the information. Then she pointed at his upper left arm. “What’s that?”

“This lets people know that I’m not human.” In fact, all humanoid synthetics were required by law to wear an id armband when in public, even though the information printed on it could easily be accessed by scanning the matrix barcode printed on his “earphones” with a mobile device.

Alternatively, they could simply ask him. He couldn’t lie about it, by design.

“This is my owner,” Gakupo pointed to the small color photo of a young woman with shoulder length black hair. Underneath it was her current contact information. “This is my official designation”, he added, pointing to a string of letters and numbers printed in white along the top of the armband. “And this is my emergency shutdown code,” he finished as he pointed to a shorter set of numbers, printed in bright orange.

“What?” The girl tilted her head.

“If I behave badly, the police can make me go to sleep with that code.”

“You get grounded too?”

Gakupo was about to answer when he caught sight of his Master entering the coffee shop. “I have to go now. It was nice talking to you, Miss Nandi.”

The girl pouted, but no human was as important as his Master. The woman waved at him cheerfully and walked over to one of the unoccupied tables by the windows. Gakupo stood up, nodded respectfully at Nandi and went to sit with his owner.

“I’ve got the job!” she announced with a brilliant smile as soon as he sat before her.

“I knew you would, you are an exceptional scientist.” Gakupo replied.

His Master just laughed, waving her hands as if to deny it, but obviously pleased. “I’ve got a lot to prove now, after that prize.” She paused for a moment, eyes turning downwards as she played with a napkin. “This project is something big, Gakupo. Finally, we’re starting to make the leap towards long-term missions… to really explore what’s out there.” She locked eyes with him once more, brimming with some emotion he couldn’t decipher. “We are going to be part of history!”

Gakupo smiled fondly as his owner launched in a longwinded explanation of the project and her role on it. In her enthusiasm, she had forgotten that he didn’t have the data files necessary to understand most of it, yet. He waited for a pause to point it out.

Before he could get a word in, a burly man approached the table. He wore a flight jacket with the name “I. Smith” embroidered on a tag in the upper left pocket.

“Hello, there! Congratulations on getting the job!” He greeted Gakupo’s Master with a big smile, as if they were old friends. Given his Master’s polite but guarded look, he surmised that it wasn’t the case.

“Thank you… I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Oh, no! I saw the old man showing you around, and since I knew today was the final interview…I’m Ishmael Smith, one of the navigators here. I’m part of the pool of applicants to join the new project too, you know.”

His Master relaxed, as her eyes examined the patches on the man’s sleeve with interest.

“I’m Mitsuki Torii. Gakupo, can you get Mister Smith a seat?”

Gakupo nodded and rose, but before he could move even a step away, Smith swiftly pulled Gakupo’s chair towards him and sat without even glancing at the synthetic.

“This will do just fine.”

Gakupo stood there for a second, confused. True, synthetics accompanying their Masters usually stood behind them as they ate, if they were even allowed inside the building. Therefore, the navigator likely didn’t consider a third chair to be necessary. But then his Master frowned.

“I prefer to have him seated as well, if you don’t mind,” she said coldly.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. Force of habit, that’s all. Most of the models serving in the agency hangars aren’t capable to sit at all!” Smith rubbed the back of his neck.

“I see.” His Master said, somewhat placated. She turned to Gakupo. “Get another chair, ok?”

Gakupo nodded and went to the closest vacant table. Behind him, he heard Smith’s amicable tone. “He is a pretty impressive fellow, I’ll grant you that. I inherited one of them myself, recently. Very well-made products.”

“You did?” Now he had his Master’s attention for sure, he could recognize the excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, a girl .” A small pause. “Well, as ‘girl’ as any synthetic can be, anyways.”

Gakupo grabbed one chair and carried it back. He could now see that his Master was leaning forward, almost as if ready to pounce.

“Oh, I’d love to meet her! I bet she’s beautiful!”

“…I guess so.” Smith seem amused by her reaction.

Her eyes darted around the room. “She’s not around here, is she?!”

“No, no, I don’t bring her to work.” His Master deflated somewhat, and Smith hastily added. “But I was thinking, maybe you’d like to go eat somewhere tonight, my treat? You bring your boy, I bring my girl, and the four of us go to celebrate your new job, huh?”

His Master’s eyes meet his for a moment, as Gakupo sat. It wasn’t her style to accept invitations from people she barely met, but she was obviously tempted by the idea of meeting the gynoid. Gakupo felt curious as well, since he had never met a female model before.

“That…that would be nice.” She nodded, after some consideration.

“Great! There’s this new place I’ve wanted to go…”

---

Gakupo looked at himself in the mirror, pulling at his id armband half-heartedly. The material of his haori bunched awkwardly around it, but he couldn’t adjust it properly. It clashed pretty badly with the traditional clothing his Master had picked for the evening, gaudy plastic against black and gray fabrics. Not that his hair and eyes helped the matter any.

His Master, on the contrary, seemed very comfortable in her lush kimono. According to his data files, all the elements in her outfit matched each other and complimented her natural attributes. She came to him and began fiddling with the armband herself.

“The car is almost here, Gakupo! You should’ve told me before it didn’t fit.” She smiled nervously.

“I’m sorry.” As if in response, the doorbell rang.

“Ooh, it’s here.” His Master grabbed her purse and a couple of other things from her desk with one hand, and pushed him towards the door with the other. “Come on, I’ll fix it on the way there.”

Ultimately, the fix involved pinning the unfastened armband to his sleeve. Both the armband and the haori gained a couple of holes from the experience before she was done. Once that important matter was resolved, his Master spent the rest of the trip speculating how the gynoid would act and look.

The restaurant was in the trendiest neighborhood of town, not a section they particularly frequented. When the automatic car stopped before the entrance, Gakupo could see that the sidewalks were full of fashionable people, young or otherwise made to look so thanks to chemicals and surgery. Everyone seemed delighted to be in the world, at that moment and place. He spied a cleaning bot tucked away in an alley, its unblinking red eyes staring fixedly ahead. Currently, it seemed to be the only one of his kind in sight.

One of the partygoers milling about blew his nose as he passed the synthetic, and then threw the spent tissue at the cleaning bot. It hit its forehead softly and fell to the ground. Unflinching, the bot advanced on it and sucked the tissue into its lower half.

The door of the car opened noiselessly, and a valet from the restaurant rushed to help his Master out. When Gakupo stepped out behind her, the valet looked at him with widened eyes, but said nothing. Ignoring his reaction, his Master strode gracefully towards the doors, past the line of people without reservations that waited outside for a free table. Some of them looked at the pair with unrestrained venom in their expressions.

What was the point of waiting in line, given the area was full of restaurants? Surely, the quality of food was more or less equivalent in the area, Gakupo thought. He diverted his eyes from them, recalling his Master’s advice: never stare at humans for too long. That usually meant about 2 seconds, unless they were speaking directly to him.

“I kind of wish we were back at the lab…” His Master muttered in an apprehensive tone. ”I don’t even like gourmet food.”

“I don’t either.”

His Master giggled at this, covering her mouth, and stepped past the beautifully carved doors of the entrance.

Inside, there was a rectangular room with some avant-garde (and likely quite uncomfortable) metal chairs, a corner table with a fresh bouquet of flowers inside a crystal vase, and directly opposite them, another set of doors, with a pedestal and an officious looking man next to them. The line of people ended in front of him.

To Gakupo and his Master’s right, there was a corridor with unmarked doors. To their left, a young bespectacled man peered at them from the coat check.

In one corner, Smith and a pink-haired woman stood waiting for them.

Gakupo heard his Master’s sharp intake of air, her laughter forgotten. “Oh, look at her! She’s so beautiful!” she gushed, almost childlike.

He had to agree. Judged under most of the standards Gakupo had been programmed with, the gynoid was gorgeous. Harmonious features, delicate curves and meticulously calculated proportions, all wrapped in creamy skin that no organic woman could ever have. Unlike his own, her eyes were aquamarine, and shone with intelligence and strength.

On the other hand, her face was completely inexpressive, so devoid of emotion that it immediately struck him as wrong. He wondered if there was some sort of problem with her systems. Was Smith keeping up with her maintenance?

“Good evening, Mitsuki.” Smith stepped forward, a wide grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mister Smith,” his Master replied.

“Don’t be like that, come on. Just call me Ish,” the navigator said. He partly turned towards the gynoid. “Luka, this is Mitsuki Torii, and Gakupo. Say hi.”

“Good evening, Miss Torii. It’s nice to meet you,” Luka said softly. Her voice was like burnt caramel, slightly husky but melodious. A couple of customers turned towards her with interest, and the young man handling the coats was already ogling her without any attempt at concealment. After a moment, her eyes turned to Gakupo, and the two synthetics stared at each other silently for a few seconds.

“Good evening” Luka finally said, barely audible. She inclined her head, burying her chin and cheeks in the white furs surrounding her throat. Her features remained blank through it all.

“Good evening!” Gakupo replied in a cheerful tone, despite being increasingly worried about her.

“Ok, now that we’re all friends, let go inside, shall we? Smith tugged ineffectually at the collar of his dress shirt, and walked towards the maître at the doors.

“Good evening. We have a reservation for four. It’s under Ishmael Smith.” He said to the man, who suddenly looked less than friendly.

“I’m afraid that there has been a misunderstanding on your part, Sir.”

“Huh?”

“We don’t allow synthetics inside the banquet hall, Sir. It’s clearly stated on our promotional materials.” At his side, Gakupo could sense his Master bristling at the words, under her still polite exterior.

“We’ll pay service charges for them as well. They won’t get in the way of your people.”

“The policy is in place to ensure both the comfort of our servers and other customers, Sir. This is not negotiable.” The man stated with an air of finality.

“Then we’ll leave.” His Master piped up, annoyed. Smith looked dismayed at this.

“Master, please go inside with Mister Smith. We’ll wait here.” His Master had to enjoy her evening out. All other considerations were secondary.

“See, they don’t mind. Right?” Smith looked at Gakupo and Luka expectantly.

“Please have a nice evening.” Luka said, the first indication she was paying any attention to the conversation. Gakupo nodded.

“I’ll have the boy at the coat check look over them, ma’am.” The maître added. Perhaps he just didn’t want them to stand around unsupervised. On the other hand, having them inside the coat check room meant having them out of sight.

“Mitsuki, if we leave here we’ll have a hell of a time finding a table anywhere else. You saw how packed the streets are.”

“…Fine.” The maître thanked her, and went to open the door to the coat check.

His Master turned to Gakupo. “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you later, ok?”

“Just have fun.” Gakupo shook his head, smiling.

Luka was already crossing the door to the cloak check, without sparing a look towards any of them.

“See you later, Master, Mister Smith.” He then rushed after his fellow synthetic.

---

“Surely, he doesn’t expect to confuse us with a coat, does he?” Gakupo commented quietly, poking at the number currently taped to the front of his kimono. He and Luka were standing side to side at the far end of the coat check, enjoying the company of a fine collection of expensive outwear.

“Maybe he wanted an excuse to touch my breasts.” Luka said, without looking at him.

Gakupo blinked, one of his most prized automated responses. “You…joke?”

“It is part of our skillset, isn’t it?” Her expression remained completely motionless, but there was more animation on her voice.

“It is. I just thought… Look, are you aware of the emotional output of your face right now?” Gakupo asked.

Luka looked at him briefly, then away. “Yes.” Gakupo waited a while, but received no further response.

“Are you… do you need technical assistance?” His Master was excellent at fixing his systems, probably even better than the company technicians his warranty provided.

“You are modded.” Luka stated, ignoring his question.

This conversation was turning out to be a great time for displaying his functionality. This time his programming went for a flinch.

“Your pupil time of response is under our factory standard range,” Luka commented mildly. “Your facial fluidity has been improved around 23%. Your voice harmonics also have been worked on- I believe your output in the range 2-4 kHz surpasses average results by 34.6%. Should I go on?”

Gakupo’s eyes darted towards the attendant, but he was busy talking to a group of people outside. In any case, Luka was likely speaking too low to be overhead.

“Are you going to report me?” He finally asked. One of the first things his Master had done after she bought him was to bolster his ability to stay silent about his unlawful modifications, but he still had difficulties with outright lying.

“I haven’t been ordered to do so.” Even if her face stayed the same, Gakupo could sense a smile in her tone. She looked downwards, playing with the fabric of her long skirt. “I believe….yes, envy. I am feeling envious right now.”

Not one of their most commonly simulated emotions, but a perfectly understandable response. Who wouldn’t want to have a better overall performance? Their very goal was to be satisfying companions to their masters.

All of a sudden, Luka took one of his hands in hers. “I won’t say anything, I promise.” She whispered. The fingertips of her right hand slightly caressed the top of his hand.

Gakupo observed the gesture, puzzled. Given the context, he was reasonably sure it had positive connotations, but was unsure on how to respond.

“Thank you,” That seemed appropriate enough. Then an idea struck him. “I’m sure my Master can refine your systems if Mister Smith asks her.” He whispered quickly.

“Perhaps.” She still didn’t smile, but her tone was light, almost playful. Moreover, she didn’t let go of his hand. Through her skin, Gakupo could feel the faint echoes of the machinery inside her, the flow of energy that reflected in her eyes. He placed his other hand on top of hers, wanting more of the sensation.

Luka could probably sense the minute vibrations of his systems as well, all of the polymers and circuits, his core ticking in synchronicity with hers.

There was so much new data to process here, in her touch. He would need time to sort it all out.

That was the moment when the notion of being what he was finally dropped its weight onto his shoulders. He did not own his days; he did not get to choose what to do with them. The future cared nothing for his opinion.

He looked at her eyes, tenuously glowing in the dim light of the room.

Perhaps he was the malfunctioning one, after all.