'A Toaster to you is a small kitchen appliance that makes toast.
'A Toaster to me is an insult. I have a fucking good reason for it too.
'I've told you about the institute. The only way to differentiate genuine humans from their artificial copies is to watch and see if they blink. There's an android for every use, and nearly every person.
'When one of my missions was not particularly essential, or I was tracking a refugee, I used to report to a man whom I could only call Master. That, actually, was all I could ever call anyone. He was a short man. And a body like a barrel. As I recall, he was very unpleasant. Treated those he deemed 'Below' him like dirt, and flattered his superiors in the slimiest ways. He treated androids as if they were nothing but destructible playthings. Maintenance droids were given lots more work because of him, and others of his mindset.
'No one would talk to him on their own freewill. He resorted to talking to me. Sure. I could have killed him without a second thought. This was why he never so much as touched me. But I couldn't walk out without him first dismissing me.
'He pretty much just spun on his chair, talking into the air, turning to me with his eyebrow raised whenever he asked a question, and then laughing. Taunting the fact that I couldn't answer. Not that I wanted to ever socialise with a man like him.
'This routine went on for six missions. "Status? Right. You know what…" And off he would go.
'The next time I reported to him, he started talking about how painful my new wound would have been if I were human… I really don't know what lead to him saying "I've commissioned my own pretty little 'droid. You may meet her next time…"
'I can't say that I was aware of what his attentions were. Really, I was only there to hand the status in, not think about this barrel of a man.
'Lo and behold. The next time I march into that office, he was 'Playing with his little 'droid'. While I wasn't very aware, I did turn around. Thank god. In that one second I saw everything. She was fucking cut. Bleeding gashes raced from the hollow of her neck to her navel. She was purple from her bruising. . Bites everywhere. He was on top of her.
'Shit, man. I saw everything.
'He finished. Her moaning stopped. He ordered me to turn around. Bastard didn't even bother dressing. I barked my status report and waited for dismissal.
'But, no. He had to tell me how much fun his little droid was.
'And, guess what? He fucking called her Toaster.
'He dismissed me. I walked away. Fuckin' image has stayed with me. I could have killed him. Should have. She wasn't aware of what the hell was happening. Do that to a person and he would have been shot and left for the dogs. I mean, fuck. Androids are mechanical. Doesn't mean we aren't human too.
'But it was hidden. I was just Harkness, the security chief of a rusting boat. I was… Content, happy even. Wasn't haunted by things like that.
'Until you made me remember!'
A3-21 stared at the kid in front of him. The Messiah, the Last, Best hope of Humanity, his 'Saviour'.
The kid took his rifle and killed Artimage and Zimmer. Only to discover that they were decoys.
Zimmer was still out there.
He supposed he should have seen it coming. But he didn't. He placed what little hope he had with Zimmer's death. He didn't take the news of the decoys well. He thanked the kid. And asked him to leave him alone.
The kid visited him afterwards. Whenever he stopped at Rivet City, he sought for the Security Chief. Asked if he had a good day. Asked if there was anything he could do.
He replied in the form of a shrug, and went back to patrolling.
And then the kid came up to him. Trying to make conversation. But his attempts could have been likened to the Master's. One sided.
The kid mockingly said 'C'mon, Toaster, Please. Talk to me.'
The kid's eyes were wide. His knuckles on the hand gripping the rail were white. He looked scared.
A3-21 took a step back from him. And another. He turned to face the open sea, his hand clenched tight against his forehead.
'Don't call me Toaster.'