Chris walked quietly down the stairs as the tempting smell of breakfast wafted up from below. It appeared Ivy was cooking, though what exactly he couldn't tell.

He wondered what Titch had told Ivy while they were together yesterday evening. Four thousand parameters... no doubt combined with a host of data about himself and Titch. How much of it had been correct... Or even remotely honest? Titch was changing so rapidly these past few weeks, there was no telling what she might have said.

There was no way he had the time to fact-check that many settings and data. Briefly he wondered if he shouldn't format the new persocom and configure her properly -a process that would take weeks- but something about doing that made him feel uneasy. It shouldn't have - after all, it wasn't like there were any critical files stored on Ivy that couldn't be lost. Certainly not after a single day out of the box. She wasn't like Titch, anyway. Which is to say, Titch had lots of critical work files stored in memory. Yes, that was it.

But this meant resigning to whatever changes Titch had made. That definitely sounded like trouble, if this morning was any indication.

He sighed, strolling across the hallway. Maybe it would be better this way, he thought. An emotional software cortex was a rare thing, but perhaps the most realistic analogue to genuine human behavioural mechanisms you could find. It could draw on the persocom's knowledge and past experiences to make best-guess analyses of given inputs, arriving at the most logically sound emotional response. This made them feel more spontaneous than normal matrices which relied on programmable libraries of behaviours and limited contextual modification.

An ESC was still only as good as the data it had access to, but he felt like Titch would have done a thorough job in that respect. If true, treating Ivy like a real person would be easy... Ah, but if only that were all there was to it! Better to live with someone rather than something which simply looked human, no matter how convincing. He didn't know if he could get over the fact that Ivy was just a machine. Or that she looked so much like she wasn't. If only she was a miniature model. That would be way less weird.

He walked into the kitchen.

"Morning again." Ivy said, flashing him a smile as she upended a saucepan, splattering a messy pile of food onto a plate. "Try not to fling yourself across the room this time, ok?"

A small table sat in the corner of the kitchen. Chris flopped into a chair, rubbing his sleepy eyes. At least it was the weekend now. He didn't think he could handle anything complicated, today.

Ivy sat down opposite him, dropping the plate and cutlery in front of herself. Chris stared, confused. It really didn't look all that appetising; a mash of vegetables, baked beans and bacon.

"Is that-"

"Mine." she said nonchalantly, stabbing a bit of carrot with a fork and popping it into her mouth.

Chris blinked. "Uh... you're... eating?"

Ivy chewed slowly, looking him in the eyes. "Yum" she said.

"But you can't!" he protested, feeling stupid. "Persocoms don't eat, what the hell are you doing?"

"Sure I do." Ivy replied conversationally. "You don't know much about KESS persocoms do you? The food goes into my internal anaerobic digester, where it's broken down for energy. Typically one meal gets me through a single day, give or take a few hours. "

"No way. What happens afterwards?" Chris said, incredulously.

"After?" she said, grinning and raising her eyebrows. "Oh, you mean...?" she pointed downwards, and Chris cringed.

"Ooh god, did I really just ask you that question?"

"Hey, it's OK. I don't mind. What happens is, at the end of the day I go outside, pull down my trousers, and burn the excess solids and gases off in a massive fireball that shoots out of my arse."

Chris blinked again and Ivy giggled. She spat the carrot at him, making him jump in surprise; it sailed across the space between them and landed in his hair.

"Eugh, hey-!"

"I'm messing with you," she said gently, shoving the plate across the table as he picked the vegetable out of his hair. It was completely un-chewed. "And before you call me gross for spitting, consider that you just asked me if I poop."

Chris scowled, causing Ivy to laugh again. "Wow, you're really not a morning person, are you? Go on, eat up."

"You are every inch the persocom I feared Titch would turn you into." he said grouchily, eyeing the plate's contents. "Um, thanks for this, but what's with the whole..."

"What do you mean?" Ivy said, studying the plate with concern. "Is something wrong with the food?"

"Uh... well... no... it's just... different?" Chris offered, trying not to grimace as he shovelled the goop into his mouth.

Ivy sighed in frustration. "I knew it. I knew I was doing it wrong. Sorry, I don't really know the specifics of cooking, or any recipes. Someone is keeping me from the net, remember?" she said pointedly, poking his leg with her foot. "I thought Titch was gonna help but I guess she has other plans. All the same, this meal should be nutritionally balanced, based on its ingredients."

"Don't KESS persocoms ship with culinary packages installed?" Chris asked, glad to move on to more comfortable discussion.

"Not really. In fact we ship with very little except for base logic, reasoning and learning software, a personality matrix, and a core knowledge library comprising a host of data about basic everyday objects, electronics, sciences, chemistry, physics, and such. That's enough to get started. Normally we pull any necessary software and data from the web, when it's needed." She studied him as he ate. "As a result, I can tell you the approximate nutrient content of the meal you're eating, as well as reassure you that it's properly cooked and safe to eat. But I have no idea if the ingredients taste good or belong together. Speaking of which, you don't have to eat it if you don't want to, you know. You won't hurt my feelings."

"Interesting. Do you think you have feelings?" Chris mumbled deliberately, his mouth full. He watched her carefully as she replied.

"...My ESC processes and responds to stimuli according to its configuration." she said coolly. "Does that answer your question?"

Chris tried not to wince. It would've been a tactless question, technically. But that was quite the predictable machine response, right there... Wasn't it? He continued eating, but assured himself it was only because he was really hungry. Ivy curled up on her chair, perching her feet on the chair's edge and planting her chin on her knees. She swayed gently from side to side as he ate, watching him.

"Am I less creepy this way?" she asked quietly. Chris nearly choked on his mouthful - where did that come from?!

"Oh..." he swallowed the food with some effort "...you weren't creepy. The idea of you was creepy." he said, immediately regretting his choice of words.

"I see..." she replied, looking at the floor.

Bloody ESCs...

"I mean I feel uncomfortable having someth... having you wandering around the house like some sort of human servant." he said, trying to explain.

"Oh... Sooo, I wasn't creepy? Not even a teeny bit?" Ivy squinted as she pinched two fingers together. Chris chuckled.

"Maybe a little. That costume you were wearing was the worst."

"Haha - hey! That's what got you? I thought it was me being all - how did Titch put it? 'Disgustingly subservient and formal and stuff'." Ivy bobbed her head like she had been doing yesterday, speaking with a meek tone. "Like this, Chris? Don't you remember?"

"Argh, stop... that's true, but imagine if you kept wearing that thing too! That would be infinitely worse!" Chris laughed. "That reminds me, we need to get you some proper clothes today," he said, motioning to Ivy's old T-shirt. "My stuff doesn't fit you at all."

"Really, you think so?" Ivy tugged the trailing ends of her jogging bottoms. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Chris made to laugh, but it turned into a cough over a particularly dry lump of what might have been potato. He moved to get a drink but Ivy was around his side of the table before he'd finished standing, pushing him back into his chair.

"Sit down, stupid. It looks like you can barely cope with eating, let alone operating a kettle." Ivy walked across the kitchen and set to making another coffee as Chris managed a strangled "thanks".

A few minutes later, Chris drank gratefully from a perfect cup. "That's better..." he said, when he finally lowered it. "Phew. Hey, about your coffees-"

"Why are they so good when my food is so awful?" she interrupted, smiling slightly. "Titch showed me how you like them already. Where is she, anyway? I miss the squeaking!"

Chris chuckled, but his face fell afterwards. "I sort of told her off after you went downstairs. She's either hiding, sulking or both. The thing is, she disobeyed a request in command mode. That's very bad, for many reasons."

"Isn't she infected, though?" Ivy said. "Doesn't that mean it's not her fault?"

"...Maybe." Chris said pensively. He sighed defeatedly. "Oh, I don't know any more! She's so unpredictable now."

"She wasn't always this way?"

"I guess she didn't tell you? She's not a very advanced model. She shouldn't be capable of the complexity she shows in her behaviour and responses to stimuli, but something about that virus lets her do it anyway."

"I see…" Ivy said, frowning. "I figured she was running an ESC. I suppose that's not normal for that size of persocom? She avoided the question when I asked, come to think of it."

"That's right. She hasn't nearly enough neurologic processors to handle an ESC. Some software companies do offer cut down versions for her size, but they're limited. Generally miniature models support only basic interaction complexity through simple personality matrices. She shouldn't be able to express anything resembling emotions or feelings beyond a very limited subset, for instance. They're generally pre-programmed to be energetic and cheery, since most people find that pleasant."

"Interesting... I didn't know. Poor thing. Do you think she was embarrassed?" Ivy said, playing absent-mindedly with a strand of hair.

Chris froze for a moment, a look of disbelief on his face. "Do I think she was embarrassed? Wow," He said, putting his mug on the table. "Your ESC is amazing. This conversation was getting pretty deep."

"Wha-"

"I'm going to... I'm going upstairs."

"Chris, wait-"

"Tidy this up, please." he said, hurrying out of the room without looking back.

I sort of got used to it from Titch. She changed so slowly, it wasn't a shock. But Ivy? Yesterday she was... and now today... it's uncanny. Chris thought, striding up the stairs. He had been drawn right in, it was so convincing. That software was incredible! He'd have to ask Sarah how the KESS ESC worked; surely she knew more, as she was working on that exact sort of thing before the virus struck. If only he'd chosen her project instead, then maybe he'd understand.

Hypocrite.

Chris stopped at the top of the stairs.

Admit it. You're already treating Titch like a friend. But she's a machine, virus be damned. Why is it such a problem if Ivy seems so real? Because it's harder to remember she isn't? You can't have it both ways.

He sighed.

Coward. Pick a fucking side.