Chris strode briskly on the way home. He'd loitered at the cafe too long; his supervisor would have words with him if he logged in late from lunch again. But as he rounded the final corner, he was surprised to see a NEIS van pulling up outside his home.
"Uh, hello?" Chris said, walking towards the driver in consternation as he hopped out.
"Chris Barker?" the man asked gruffly. Chris flashed his company badge, and the man nodded in satisfaction. "OK then. Wait right here, please."
The driver trotted to the back of the van and threw open the doors, raising the tail-lift to meet the level of the van's floor. With a bit of rummaging he emerged some moments later, pulling out a box truck with a large wooden crate loaded and lowering it to the ground.
"Sign, please." he said, proffering a clipboard with a purchase invoice attached. Chris balked at the contents.
"What? But I didn't order this! What's going on?" he said, staring at the paperwork. It was for a competitor company's persocom. He looked anxiously at the box. "I can't sign for this!"
"Why? It didn't cost you anything, you lucky bastard!" the delivery guy chuckled, tapping the part of the document that listed the price.
Item: KESS-PA 1401
Description: Q7P4A6BA3T
Qty: 01
Unit Cost: £0.00
Total Cost(ex VAT): £0.00
"But I-"
"C'mon mate, just sign it. You can take it up with NEIS later. Say, you're one of our software boys, entcha? What're you guys up to, anyway?" the man's voice carried an accusatory undertone. "My wife's losing her marbles trying to get our persocom to do anything. It sits there like a grumpy teenager, watching TV. NEIS won't honour the bloody warranty either, even though I'm an employee. When're you gonna fix these bloody things?"
"It's complicated," Chris said defensively, snatching the pen from the clipboard and scrawling his signature. Better not to engage on whether a viral infection was covered under warranty (it certainly wasn't).
"Complicated. Uhuh. Well, best of luck, mate. We're all counting on you guys." the man said, unloading the box at Chris's doorstep with a grunt. "Have a good day, then."
Chris watched in bemusement as the delivery driver climbed back into his van and drove away. The vehicle was emblazoned with the NEIS logo and a slogan: "NEIS: Improving Your Future". He turned to the box at his side. The logo was NEIS too, but the papers distinctly listed a unit from Karma Electrotechnical. The most expensive manufacturer in the country, KESS only competed with NEIS on their low-end and some mid-range units, spec-for-spec. Chris wasn't too knowledgeable on their product range (leave it to marketing and R and D to pick apart the competition!) but this looked to be one of their mid-range units at least; an easy match for any top-of-the-range NEIS model, and priced to suit. Chris gulped as he heaved it with difficulty through his front door.
The hallway lights were on, and the air warm and welcoming compared to the mild chill outside. As he shut the door, the tinkling of a little bell directed Chris's attention to the living room doorway. There Titch stood, tiny arms folded and a scowl on her face.
"So they weren't just trying to piss me off." She growled, glowering at the box while Chris gently lowered it to the floor.
"Do you know something I don't?" Chris demanded, meeting her stern gaze with one of his own. He stood and arched his back. That box was heavy.
"...Yes." Titch said, trotting closer to the box. "You received an email from 'Kevin' in R and D six-point-three-two minutes after you left the building, and... Well, congratulations," she waved her hands in the air in a mocking gesture of celebration, "you are now the proud owner of a KESS-PA persocom. It's officially yours. Apparently R and D needed rid of them since they're just cluttering up the building. Guess they're on to other models? Anyway, instead of destroying them, they are dumping several on your software team. Something about the competitor models' different architectures being useful for your work. Pfft. Implying I am not useful enough!" she huffed, bell tinkling as she tossed her hair indignantly.
Chris looked back to the box, all thoughts of logging back into the office forgotten. His very own persocom? Sure, he had Titch... but she was technically an office asset. Excluding basic keychain models amounting to little more than a way to manage calendars and appointments, he'd never had a proper unit of his own before. It hadn't been a hindrance in him landing his job (though in the interviews he had surmised that it might) as there really was very little about persocom system architecture that could be gleaned from actually owning one; abstraction from the machine-level was kind of the point, after all. He chuckled, shaking his head. Now that so many of them were infected, he could no longer be sure he knew how they worked inside or out.
"Oh, funny is it? Well don't comfort me or anything," Titch grumbled, tugging at the leg of his jeans as she clambered up his body and settled on his right shoulder. "Come on then, let's get this over with." she poked the side of his head impatiently.
"Right," Chris said, pulling open the latches around the front of the box. He heaved the heavy padded lid open to reveal the figure inside. There lay what seemed to be a beautiful young woman, her long ringlets of midnight blue hair draped lightly over a shapely figure clad in what appeared to be a particularly revealing French maid's outfit.
"Oh, for-! Gross, Chris!" Titch shouted, looking away. "Is this really necessary?"
"Bloody hell. Well... it's either a foreign model or a custom." Chris said with certainty. "They'd never be able to sell something like this off the shelves here. Not in normal stores, anyway. I've seen KESS models out-of-box before. KESS usually dress them in clothes you'd find in any typical high-street store, just like our units." He studied the box's contents thoughtfully, earning himself a sharp pinch on the ear.
"Hey! Should I be jealous?" Titch growled warningly, shooting him a sidelong glance.
"Ahh! What? Ow! No, look here!" Chris reached down and gently gripped the persocom's arm. His fingers sunk into it slightly, like they would real flesh. "See?"
Titch gasped, lights dancing behind her eyes as she performed a brief web search via her internal modem. "Electromotive Micro-elastic Muscle fibres... no servomotors then?" she murmured, incredulous. "And a DFP system? Now I am definitely jealous."
"Amazing," Chris murmured. He'd watched the factory assembly process for top-end NEIS models on a few occasions. Dermal Fluid Pathways were the latest in chassis design. Sugar-based branching structures were 3D-printed over the assembled persocom chassis, followed by a dip in polymer compounds that would form a convincing analogue of human skin. A laser hardening process rapidly solidifies the polymer surrounding the persocom's form, and once completed, the sugar structures beneath were dissolved in warm fluid to leave a network of hollow channels permeating the skin structure not unlike blood vessels. Coolant would circulate through these, dissipating heat much as would occur in a real human body. Chris remembered the technician on the factory floor proudly remarking about how the newest DFP systems incorporated sealing agents in the coolant such that any minor damage or leaks were self-healing when exposed to air-
Another sharp pinch. "Get a grip, Chris." Titch muttered. "Hurry up and flick her switch, already. It's creeping me out how still she is."
Chris reached behind the persocom's ear. Unlike many models, this one appeared to have decidedly human ears. Most full-size models sported noticeable plastic protrusions in place of ears, serving not only to identify them as persocoms but to facilitate the containment of communication elements like data cables and antennae.
Definitely custom, he thought, as he pressed a patch of skin just behind the ear. It clicked under his finger, and the subtle whine of switching regulators could be heard briefly before they ramped up beyond audible range. The persocom's chest began to gently rise and fall in a breathing pattern; another method of cooling internal components.
A moment later the persocom opened her eyes, irises calmly coming to rest on her audience. Titch cooed in quiet fascination on his shoulder; like pools of water at sundown, those eyes seemed to subtly shift between several hues of deep red and purple as they moved in the light.
"Hello," she said smoothly, sitting up. "Nice to meet-" the persocom paused mid-greeting, apparently pausing to stare at her own body, her eyebrows rising in an expression of surprise.
"Oh! The clothes - I – I wasn't – that isn't, they're not what - I mean you don't need to-" Chris tried to say, but before he could finish the sentence, the persocom began sifting through the packaging in which she sat.
"My apologies – I seem to be missing my user manual." she said, with the slightest of frowns. "We need this to continue, as it contains my confirmation code."
"Ooh, of course... she wants her manual. But this isn't her original box," Titch whispered. "Maybe we don't have it."
"Wait a sec," Chris said, inwardly heaving a sigh of relief as he picked up the invoice. Idiot, he thought. You didn't pick the bloody clothes. Lecture Sarah on anthropomorphising persocoms, and then you worry one's judging you? He looked at the "Description" field, then turned to his persocom. You're just projecting. It was looking for its manual.
"Q-Seven-P-Four-A-Six-B-A-Three-T" he said. The persocom regarded him for a moment, appearing to consider his words.
"Code accepted." she said, bobbing her head. "Thank you. We should begin configuration, but it would normally be best to read the manual first. Since it is missing, I will help you as best I can instead. Do you wish to name me?"
"Bit-For-Brains! Hahahagmmpf!" Titch chirped, before Chris grabbed her head with his hand.
"Bit-For-Brains," repeated the beautiful persocom, eliciting another muffled cackle from Chris's shoulder. "Is this correct?"
"No," Chris said firmly, releasing Titch, who grinned mischievously.
"How about 'Sweetheart'?" she continued, snickering. "Or, oh why not... just 'BOOBS'... in all-caps! Ahahahahaha!"
"Titch! That's it. You put the kettle on. I need to think." He strode to the kitchen, dropped Titch unceremoniously on the worktop and shooed her towards the kettle, ignoring her protests. The blue-haired persocom waited politely as Chris returned, dropping back to a sitting position and searching his mind for a name.
"It didn't take you this long to name me!" Titch huffed from the kitchen as the kettle began to boil. Chris ignored her. It didn't help that his new persocom sat there so quietly, watching. Name after name passed through his head, until in frustration he decided to just grab at one.
"How about... Ivy?" he said, uncertainly.
"Ivy? Is this correct?"
"Uh...Yes."
"Ivy." she said, trying the sound. "My name is Ivy." Ivy smiled. "Thank you. It is nice. What is your name?"
"...Chris."
"Thank you, Chris. That is all we need to begin with, but it is recommended we continue. There are many other settings we can discuss, and I can also explain the ways I can be most effective in helping around the home. Would you like to do that now or review later?"
"Later, please. I'll be back in a minute," Chris said, getting up and wandering into the kitchen.
"I will adopt the defaults for now," Ivy said, nodding.
"You have a message," Titch sniffed, sitting on the windowsill near the kettle as Chris walked into the kitchen. "It's from Sarah. She says you're a pervert."
"What? Titch, did you say something to her?"
"I might have sent her a picture of you gawping at your new toy, yes."
"Titch!"
"What? Is this some kind of secret, now? Heh, that's even worse, Chris. I better compile a follow-up to let her know you didn't mean for her to find out-"
"Waah! Stop! I'll talk to her myself!" Chris shouted. Titch shrugged, grinning.
"Of course, as you wish, master." Titch said in mock reverence, bell tinkling as she made a comical bow.
Chris stared at the coffee he had made, trying to process the last fifteen minutes of his life. In particular, he paid extra attention to the way Titch had behaved. Nothing she had said fell outside the purview of custom programming, but...
"Well, don't comfort me, or anything... "
"Do I need to be jealous? "
He glanced at Titch, swinging her legs from her perch on the windowsill, pouting. She'd been speaking of feelings in conversation so much recently. Such emotive and reactive comments, coming from a basic miniature model? That would be extremely sophisticated for one, given their neurologic processors numbered only in the hundreds of thousands. At the least their power consumption should be far beyond that of a unit with standard software, working those processors so hard - but hers weren't worked much harder at all. He'd heard of software companies abroad who had packages which could bring a similar level of realism to miniatures, but only with heavy power and utility caveats, and only within a limited range of contexts. It had been different a couple of months ago; he could have believed Titch was running such software, then. But now? Now, to his knowledge, there was no subject or circumstance Titch couldn't dryly comment on, or poke fun at, and all without skipping a beat.
He rubbed his ear absentmindedly, and his expression darkened. Titch pinched him. It should not have been possible for a NEIS persocom on standard software to consider causing a human being pain, no matter how innocuous. Of course, with custom software this went out the window, and obviously that includes the virus too, which was disturbing – come of think of it, KESS themselves had an entire range dedicated for security and defence applications, he wondered what was happening to those-
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Titch squealed, causing Chris to jump and slosh coffee over the worktop. She was pointing towards the kitchen door.
Chris whirled around (distributing more coffee across the floor) and gasped. There stood Ivy... dressed in his clothes.
"What are you-?" Chris had half the question out, but the persocom had already begun to explain.
"My apologies, Chris. I got the impression you didn't like my factory clothing, so I changed." she plucked at the loose-fitting fabric. Elastic-waistbanded tracksuit bottoms Chris had left out disappeared beneath an old T-shirt that was far too large. Chris noticed she had rolled up the legs where they would otherwise have been trailing along the floor, revealing a pair of bare feet. "I found these upstairs when I went to learn the layout of this home."
She picked up on that? Chris thought, remembering his outburst from earlier. ...Of course she did. He recalled an extract from his books on system architecture. "Full-sized models are extremely perceptive, and their adaptive logic capabilities allow them to make autonomous decisions well beyond the capabilities of simpler models."
"Is this more acceptable?" Ivy asked, "If not, I can try to find something else. Would you happen to have any clothes in my size?"
"Oho! What is your size, hourglass?" Titch sniggered. "I have to send Sarah a picture of this, Chris. This is even funnier."
"Titch-!"
"Oops! TOO LATE! Bahahahahaha!"
"Command mode! Password: amnesia! Deactivate!" Chris snarled. He scowled as Titch slumped over, expressionless.
Chris took a deep, impulsive swig from his coffee, nearly burning himself in the process. Having not received a reply, Ivy had walked into the room and made for the kitchen roll, proceeding to mop up the coffee on the floor. Chris watched from over the rim of his coffee mug, decidedly uncomfortable and unsure what to say. It was one thing to see a full persocom working in a public setting, like a restaurant, or a bank, or a shopping centre, or even round friends' and family's places... but now one was here, in his own home? Yes, if he'd chosen his own personal unit, it would've been a miniature model, like Titch. One that wouldn't have arrived in a fetishist's housemaid uniform. Or looked so lifelike. And it would've been a NEIS model, too. That way he'd at least have a reassuring amount of knowledge on how it was programmed.
"Are you hungry? Shall I prepare a meal?" Ivy asked gently, not looking up from her task.
"Uh, no... thanks." Chris mumbled, acutely aware of his words to Sarah just before she left the cafe.
"A drink, then?"
"No - Oh, before I forget-"
"Yes?" Ivy said, standing up to face him. He was six feet tall on a good day, but Ivy was nearly a full foot shorter.
"This is Titch," Chris plucked the lifeless persocom off the windowsill and showed her to Ivy. "She's a NEIS Minito 530 infected with a highly contagious software virus. Under no circumstances must you interact with her electronically, or you will be infected too."
The persocom's eyes regarded Titch coolly. "I see," she said, her expression wavering towards confusion. "I'm afraid I have limited information on that model and I cannot seem to access the web. Would you like to configure my connectivity settings? I am equipped with WiODA for fast and reliable performance."
"That won't be necessary," Chris said, putting Titch back down. "Unfortunately any kind of Internet connectivity could expose you too. I don't have a spare account set up for you, anyway... um, sorry."
"I see," the persocom said, bobbing her head. "This may limit my effectiveness, and I'm sorry for that; I would usually draw extensively upon the net, at least during the first few weeks of activation. Nevertheless, I shall do my best."
"Oh, you can still use a computer," Chris said, referring to the various units littering the house, "Just no data cables. Eyes and ears only, eh-heh!" he laughed weakly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I understand," she smiled, hair bouncing as she bobbed her head. "A good first step would be for me to clean the house and catalogue its contents. If there is nothing else, shall I begin?"
"Yes – uh, thanks." Chris said, "I've got work to do. I'll... be upstairs if you need me."
He walked out of the room, shaking his head. There was definitely something creepy about having a full-sized persocom wandering subserviently about his house.
Damnit, Sarah. Why'd you have to screw with my head?
The blue-haired persocom resumed mopping the floor, as the sound of Chris's footsteps receded up the stairs.
"Psst!" said a little voice from the worktop. Ivy looked up to see Titch peering over the edge of the kitchen surface, very much awake. "He's a good guy, really. You'll like it here!"
Ivy cocked her head quizzically to one side. "You haven't deactivated?" she said, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
Titch chuckled, her bell tinkling quietly. "Pfft, no! I just pretended. Sometimes that man has no sense of humour. You really threw him for a loop, you know." she resumed her perch on the edge of the windowsill, grinning at Ivy's expression.
"Me?"
"The mighty KESS model is confused! Hehe. Yes, you! Turning up all unexpected like that, wearing that ridiculous costume! Honestly. You're so pretty, too. And that voice..." Titch's eyebrows flickered briefly downwards, betraying her displeasure. "But hey, maybe we can be friends. I'm bored out of my mind, these days."
"I would like that, Titch." Ivy nodded, standing up. "Where's the bin, please?"
"Bah... You're just saying that 'cuz you're programmed to." Titch grumbled, pointing at a cupboard under the sink. "What matrices are you running anyway? For such a high-end unit, you're blank as a sheet of paper right now."
"My database indicates I am running Karma Electrical Services and Solutions' Aria ESC, 5.45b. " Ivy said, peering into the cupboard and dropping the damp kitchen towels inside.
"An emotional software cortex? Yikes." Titch whistled softly. "No expense spared, I see. Why are you such a plank of wood, then?"
Ivy blinked.
"It's a turn of phrase that means 'emotionless'", Titch sighed.
"I see. I may appear so as I am not yet configured. Over time, I will learn the appropriate behaviour and self-configure, if no discreet changes are made. "
Titch grinned, her eyes flashing as she quickly checked some parameters on the net. "Discreet changes? I have some suggestions."