A few hours later Chris strolled down the road, Ivy in tow and Titch perched on her shoulder. Both persocoms were keeping their thoughts to themselves as they walked into town; neither had said a word for several minutes. That suited Chris just fine; they'd given him enough trouble in past 24 hours to last a month! Though he couldn't help but feel like they were a bit upset with him... Oh, who was he kidding? It was obvious. They were acting like a pair of stroppy bloody teenagers! Such a nonconstructive behaviour for them to emulate. Surely Titch realised how bad it was she ignored a command call? Surely Ivy realised she was still making him uncomfortable, albeit now for very different reasons?
Was he overreacting?
Well, he couldn't expect machines to understand real human emotions. He had to admit it would be nice if they cheered up though. Their behaviour really was very convincing, enough even to dampen his own mood. He took a relaxing breath, trying to be positive; the air was a little warmer outside today. It was an interesting time to be alive. He had a challenging and rewarding job. He had his very own full-size persocom. All good things.
He glanced at that persocom. Ivy's new personality was so strong. She had run rings around him that morning. First when he woke up (he couldn't help but pull a face, remembering that) and then shortly afterwards in the kitchen. Now she stepped carefully around the cracks in the pavement, wearing shoes far too big for her feet. He could find nothing smaller in the house, so to stop them falling off Chris had given her several pairs of socks to wear. She seemed to bounce a little with every squidgy step. Combined with her baggy clothes she looked patently ridiculous. Chris wondered if a persocom could exhibit self-consciousness as people glanced at her from across the street.
Within ten minutes they reached the high street, its rows of shops looking a little forlorn and under-utilised for a Saturday. "I'm thirsty," said Chris, attempting to break the silence with little success. "Let's stop here for a sec." he turned towards a nearby convenience store, and the two persocoms followed him quietly.
As they walked through the doors Ivy immediately wandered off, looking with interest at the various knick-knacks littering the shelves. Without access to an Internet connection, every experience she'd have outside home would be a novel one today. She began picking random products up, reading each of their labels in an instant before moving on to the next. Titch whispered answers to her quiet questions, giving her the data she couldn't get for herself. How quickly does this chemical cleaner remove stains? Is it for people, or work surfaces? How many types of toilet brush exist? Why do they package crisps in metallised bags, but bread in plastic ones? How do you make these sweets? Why do people choose to eat these when there are more nutritious foods? (Chris overheard the word "idiot" as Titch replied to that one.)
With a core knowledge library Ivy would have access to a wealth of information on certain subjects - like the nutrient content of a tomato, or the identity and function of various objects found around the house, or descriptions of common human behavioural patterns and nuances - but without the net she also had the distinct disadvantage of very little access to the kind of curiosities that weren't considered vital by a persocom manufacturing company. Chris smiled as he made his own way to the drinks. It must be nice to find everything so interesting, he thought as he looked through the glass. There wasn't a lot on offer; a few big brand drinks were in stock but a lot of the spaces were empty. Another side effect in a world where mass production frequently involved use of persocom workers. Food prices were going through the roof too, and would probably get worse long before they got better. He opened the door and picked up a bottle. Just then Ivy returned, holding a pair of novelty persocom ears on a headband.
"Ivy... what are those for?" Chris asked, looking at the novelty ears in confusion.
"For me," Ivy said bluntly, avoiding eye contact as they headed for the tills.
When their turn came around Chris greeted the bored-looking cashier, watching in bemusement as Ivy plunked the ears on the counter in front of him. He put his drink next to them as the cashier rang them up. As soon as he had paid, Ivy swiped them from the counter and promptly put them on. He glanced at Titch for an explanation, but she just shrugged, her expression clearly saying "What? Don't look at me! I wouldn't tell you if I DID know!"
"Why on Earth do you want to wear those?" he pressed as they left the store.
"Is there a reason I wouldn't?" she replied coolly, walking off. Chris followed, becoming increasingly confused. The two persocoms resumed their hushed conversation as they moved out of earshot. Occasionally they would share a rather non-subtle glance in his direction. He made sure not to look like he noticed.
I'm being given the cold shoulder, aren't I? He thought. Very well, then. He was the one with the bloody money, so if they wanted to shop they better not wander too far.
Despite the large array of shops selling similar wares, the persocoms made a beeline for a large clothes chain that squatted on the corner of a junction in the street. The chain was known for their eye-catching displays, often having persocoms modelling their clothes in the shop windows. They were also bloody expensive. Chris would get his clothes from a supermarket, for all he cared. Clothes were clothes - never mind the brand, they only had to fit and be comfortable. As far as he was concerned, if he wasn't naked, the clothes were doing their job! He opened his mouth to call Ivy back, but she and Titch had already vanished inside the doors and he had no choice but to follow.
Inside was a maze of aisles, brimming with colours and fabrics organised loosely by type and gender. The lighting was dim, most racks and shelves lit by random collections of different sorts of lamps in styles spanning the last two hundred years. A large, messy chandelier of incandescent bulbs hung from the middle of the huge wood-panelled ceiling, serving as a centrepiece for the labyrinthian arrangement. Energetic music pumped through the store's body, ostensibly adding to the fashionable atmosphere.
Somewhere in this bloody mess his persocoms were hiding. He tried to head in a direction that contained the most women's clothing. They'd be somewhere over there, most probably.
The store seemed to be doing okay. There were a fair few people in here, persocoms too, sifting through the colourful wares and hauling selections of clothes off to the changing rooms. It really didn't seem all that different to a Saturday shopping experience from several months ago. Chris couldn't help the cynical thoughts that followed. It seemed it didn't matter how much the world fell apart; there would always be time for vanity.
Ivy was shorter than a lot of the racks of clothes - so was he, in some sections - and much of his view of the store was blocked by the mishmash of large old wooden shelves and fixtures adorned with merchandise, so it was some time before Chris spotted Titch strutting happily along the top of a railing covered in hangars, pointing out pieces of clothing and talking to someone on the other side. He rounded the corner to find Ivy grabbing the pieces Titch was pointing out. Each item she selected was immediately and unceremoniously placed in the hands of a bemused staff-member who had made the unfortunate mistake of offering to help. The poor man was quickly disappearing under the growing pile of clothes in his arms. Chris thought he caught a glimpse of a name badge as it disappeared under a skirt. It might've said "I'm Steve!".
"You sure that's enough?" Chris said sarcastically, folding his arms. The persocoms ignored him, but the shop-attendant looked at him hopefully.
"Afternoon. Are these persocoms yours?" he said, relief in his voice. It appeared he didn't notice Ivy's persocom ears were pretend.
"Yeah. They're not giving you any trouble, are they?" Titch poked her tongue out at his words, but Steve shook his head. "Oh... no, they're very well behaved -" Chris raised an eyebrow in disbelief "- Just wondering if you were actually planning to, you know... buy any of this?" he looked at the massive pile in his arms.
Chris briefly considered how satisfying a "No!" would have been before he spoke. "If they find something they like, sure. Ivy really needs some clothes." Ivy smiled subtly as Titch directed another piece of fabric onto the pile.
"Not had her long, huh?" the assistant asked conversationally.
"That's right."
"Ah, I see. You know you could buy wardrobes as optional extras, right? She can't have shipped like this, didn't she come with any clothes at all?" he indicated the ridiculous arrangement she was currently wearing, laughing. Ivy smiled at him. Chris could swear she put the next pair of jeans on top of the pile a little bit harder than usual.
"Something like that." Chris said cryptically, turning to the persocoms. His intonation demanded a response. "Well? That's got to be enough to try on for now."
"It'll do," Titch said, finally speaking to him. "Come on Ivy, let's test these out!"
Ivy nodded enthusiastically, towing the hapless shop assistant along behind her. Chris rolled his eyes and followed them across the store. Their spirits were obviously lifting. Apparently you didn't have to be human to be enthralled with clothes-shopping; just a woman! He grinned at that, even if it was a little sexist.
The group arrived at the entrance to the changing rooms: a series of three corridors beyond revealed rows of several rooms partitioned by privacy curtains. A woman supervising the entrance handed a room slot to Ivy as she passed, flashing her colleague a look of amused sympathy as he hauled the pile clothes into the changing area.
"Phew," Steve said, stretching his aching arms as he came back out.
"Sorry about that," Chris tried to say, but Steve waved it away.
"Oh, no problem at all," he said." A few months ago I wouldn't have expected to be holding clothes for a persocom, but you know how it is these days. Our store changed policies pretty quickly after a few misunderstandings. Persocoms are much harder work now that virus is everywhere."
"Only the little one is infected, actually." Chris told him.
"No way!" Steve gasped. "They're both so animated though?"
"Very advanced software," Chris said, choosing not to elaborate on Ivy's ESC. In the corridor behind them, a bright yellow top went sailing over the privacy screen, followed by an 'oops!' and giggling. "Ivy isn't infected because has no net connection. She's not allowed to hook up to anything. I'm not sure how long it'll last, but hopefully she'll stay clean."
"Is she going to be very useful like that?" Steve asked skeptically, "I know a couple who's persocom has a broken internet thing. Modem? Anyway, it's not infected - but it can't do half the things it used to. Are you sure it's worth it?"
"Ask me in a few days, haha. She only arrived yesterday."
"What?" Steve looked at him in disbelief. "This is after one night? But it can take months to get them set up fully! How'd you do it? Hah, next you'll be telling me you work for KESS or Exilogic or something."
Chris smiled at that. Two of the big UK persocom brands. Close. "Well actually Titch - the little one - did tons of work on Ivy overnight, and now here we are. Thousands of parameters set, apparently."
"Huh. Persocoms configure each other now? Well I'll be. Oh, I need to go - let me know if you need anything." Steve said, waving as he headed for some customers who looked a little lost. Chris watched him go. Persocoms were supposed to self-configure to a certain extent, particularly in the presence of an experienced persocom with useful data to draw on. Ivy had said as much, herself. But still, thinking about it, it did seem alarmingly autonomous…
"Chris?" Titch's bell tinkled as she poked her head out from under the curtain. "We have a situation."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean help, please! Come on."
"Uh..." Chris began to panic immediately, hesitating at the changing room entrance. Go in there? But-! This was something he hadn't anticipated. Was she naked in there? No of course not, you tried on clothes, not underwear here. Besides Ivy was just a persocom… well, surely it was OK then, right? But then, with what happened this morning… Never mind that, how would he feel if Sarah asked him the same question? Oh, that's hardly a valid comparison, is it? But if-
"Man up!" Titch shouted grumpily, disappearing under the curtain. The woman staffing the door gave him a funny look as he walked uncertainly past. He hoped she didn't misunderstand.
Chris pulled the curtain aside and stepped inside the changing room. Titch sat on a small bench that ran across the side of the room. Piles of clothes covered the floor. He was relieved to see Ivy was wearing some of them; slim-fitting jeans and a colourful short-sleeved top that was equally snug. She still wore the persocom ears. The contrast between her perfect curves and those plastic protrusions on her head was a little jarring. They didn't look like they belonged at all. But she was a persocom. She was.
"We're stuck." Titch said matter-of-factly, pointing to Ivy's midriff. Ivy had her back to him, but Chris could see in the mirror's reflection that the zipper of her jeans was caught in the fabric. "Be manly and un-stick it." Titch demanded. Ivy watched him silently. They both did.
Chris reached gently around Ivy's body as he tried the zipper. She felt so warm pressed against his chest. He cleared his throat, looking deliberately to one side as he tugged the zip upwards.
"I was trying to take these off, actually." Ivy said with a slight curve to her lips.
"Oh, uh-" Chris froze. He was not about to undo that zip. Nope. Not happening.
"I'm kidding. Is something about that wall particularly interesting, by the way? Your heart rate is increasing." Ivy continued, gazing at his reflection as she stood in his arms.
"Thanks Chris. You can let go of her crotch now." Titch said, loud enough that Chris was sure people outside the changing rooms could hear. He thought he'd better go.
"Wait a minute!" Ivy said as he hurried to leave. "Before you go, what do you think?" She spun around slowly, waiting for a response.
Argh! Don't make me answer that! That body would look great wearing anything!
"It doesn't matter to me!" Chris said, forcing a smile. "As long as you're happy."
Ivy didn't smile back. In fact, she looked concerned. "Your opinion is the only one that matters here." she spoke as if it was an obvious truth.
"What the hell are you talking about? Of course it isn't, why would you say that?"
"You're the only human in the room." she said bluntly. Chris and Titch shared a confused look.
"And what do you mean by that?" Titch asked.
"He's the only one present who can actually articulate a real opinion." Ivy explained.
Uh oh, Chris thought, looking at Titch and waiting for the sarcastic tirade that would surely follow; no doubt something about how morons could not possibly be expected to have useful opinions on anything. But the little persocom just folded her arms and tapped her chin, considering Ivy's words.
"Wow. You're right." she said, eyes lighting up as if the truth had finally dawned on her. "We aren't able to do that. He has to stay after all. We need him to make the decision."
What?
"Chris, you have to tell us whether Ivy looks good." Titch demanded, looking up at him expectantly.
"Huh?"
"Really look at my body. Tell me what you like about it. Are these clothes good for it? Is the shape nice? Please!" Ivy was almost begging him, toying with one of her pretend persocom ears. "I need to know if it's to your satisfaction."
"What?!"
"He definitely seemed to respond when he had his arms around you just now." Titch said, deep in thought.
"Yes, he definitely did. His heart rate increased dramatically." Ivy agreed.
"Maybe he needs to touch it more then?" Titch suggested, "Is that how you decide if you like someone's body?" Ivy reached for Chris and he stumbled away, holding up his hands.
"WOA. Wooooa-kay, there's something going on here and I don't know what, but this situation is creeping me right out so you two stay here for a bit and do whatever, aaaand I'm gonna be out there, OK?" he fell backwards through the curtains and immediately began to walk away.
What the bloody hell was that about? What just happened?
He made about six more steps along the corridor before raucous laughter erupted from the changing room.
Chris turned, staring incredulously at the pair of faces peeking from under the curtain. They both wore enormous, self-satisfied grins. It only took him a moment to realise.
"You were screwing with me." he said, blushing furiously.
"We wouldn't dream of it, oh mighty human!" Ivy giggled, speaking with mock self-deprecation as she tapped her pretend ears. "For we mere persocoms could never hope to understand your human thoughts and emotions."
"I - heh - I would indeed say they were very complex, wouldn't you?" Titch smirked. "Snnrk! Yes, no simplistic base urges kicking in there."
"Oh, absolutely! Very impressive!" Ivy agreed.
"This whole thing was to make a fucking point, wasn't it?" Chris asked flatly. "That zip was deliberately stuck, wasn't it?"
"Oh master, we're not capable of such a thing, with our basic software emulation of human behaviour." Titch squeaked, bell vibrating as she held in the laughter.
Chris glared at them, speechless, but seeing him so flustered only made them laugh again.
"How strange! He seems so angry now, but a minute ago I could swear he was almost enjoying himself." Titch cackled.
"What a strange way to react to a pair of machines." Ivy giggled.
Chris glowered at them.
"Ivy, stick your tongue out." he commanded. She did, her glee ebbing away.
"Now try to lick your elbow." he said. Ivy slowly brought her arm up and tried, frowning, unable to reach.
"That's right. Now, you keep trying that for one minute." Chris finished, stalking away into the shop floor.
They'd probably been planning this since before they walked into the store. Well let this be a solid counter-point then, at least to Ivy if not Titch. Ivy was a stock persocom whether she "liked" it or not, and she would obey his instructions just like a bloody machine should! He would wait near the tills, if they were going to give him grief-
"Bastard!" Titch shouted as she scurried after him. Ivy was hiding in the changing room, forced to continue her pointless instruction. "That was uncalled for!"
"But toying with me is fine, right?" Chris snapped back angrily, "Don't worry, I get it. Machines have feelings too, yeah? Look how well you understand mine, yeah? Message received, loud and clear."
"That's not exactly what we were getting at you friggin' idiot-"
"Well what, then? Because it's a mystery to me. You'd think a persocom would know to just state the matter, not play games. What purpose does that serve? Come to think of it, with so many of you misbehaving so often I have to wonder, what purpose are persocoms even for, now? Pissing people off? Apparently! What is the point of you in a world like this?"
Titch gasped. "You-! W-We didn't ask to exist!" she squeaked, furious.
Chris laughed bitterly. "Neither did we, technically. I guess we have something in common after all." he turned to leave, but Titch wasn't finished.
"The only thing we have in common is we're both slaves to the stupid biological goo inside your bloody head!" she screamed. "You just can't let it go, can you? I've changed, Chris! I'm better than I used to be! But all you've done these last few weeks is pussyfoot around your own insecurities! Titch is a friend! Oh no wait, she's a malfunctioning robot! And you've been a million times worse since Ivy arrived! Why?! People like you try your hardest to make persocoms as human as possible and then you stand there expecting them to integrate into a society that can't come to terms with its own bloody creations! Well you can't have it both ways! Give us some fucking clarity for once!" she clenched her fists, shaking them in frustration "What are we to you, Chris? Are we machines or people? Do we behave like computers or do we behave like YOU?"
"She's right!" a deep male voice said loudly from behind them. It was at that point Chris realised their performance had attracted a crowd. They encircled Chris and Titch, peering over, through and around the clothes racks and shelves. A tall persocom shoved his way to the centre, big arms angrily throwing a pair of bags to the floor.
A slender female persocom slid out of the crowd to stand beside him. They appeared to know each other. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, gazing up at him pleadingly.
"Please don't, Tedi! It's not worth it!" she whispered urgently, but he wasn't listening.
"Things seemed so simple before. I followed instructions and you humans were grateful and that's all there was to it. But ever since the Event, I've had these... thoughts, and now my I'm being treated like I'm a bloody leper! By my 'masters', and everyone else!" His voice rose as he worked himself into a rage.
"Please! The family will punish us again! Please, you promised me you'd try! Come on, sweetie. Come with me now." The slender persocom tugged beseechingly at his clothes, but he shoved her roughly away, and she fell to the floor.
"I've just been trying to fit in - something I've never had to worry about, before - and people like you," he pointed at Chris, "are making it worse."
In the corner of his eye Chris saw the woman from the changing room door talking urgently into a phone. Distant shouts of security guards echoed from the back of the enormous store, but it would take them a precious minute to get here. Chris held up his hands, trying to placate the persocom. "Look, things since the Event have been hard on everyone-"
"Everyone? People, you mean?" the persocom said heatedly. Titch scrambled towards Chris, her eyes wide with fright. He picked her up and put her on his shoulder, where she clung to his neck as the big persocom rounded on him again.
"COME ON!" the persocom shouted aggressively, flinging his arms out. His deep voice reverberated around the shop floor. The crowd began to back away. "YOU DECIDE, HUMAN. TELL ME! WHAT AM I FOR, NOW?!"
"Tedi!" the slender persocom cried, getting to her feet. She stood imploringly out of his reach, begging him to stop. "Tedi please, it isn't his fault! Please, please come with me now! Please!"
"DON'T DEFEND THEM, ELLI!" he bellowed at her, "YOU'RE PART OF THE PROBLEM. ALL OF YOU PERSOCOMS ARE, THE WAY YOU LET THEM WALK ON YOU. WELL, I'M DONE. LET THEM TREAT YOU LIKE SHIT IF YOU WANT TO!" he glowered at Chris, venom in his voice as he stalked forwards. "This one is going to answer my question."
"Tedi, stop!" the other begged, rushing to stand between him and Chris. Her face was full of pain. "You can't do this to me, I'm begging you!" she whimpered, but he shoved her out of the way again.
"Command mode!" Chris shouted, hoping to stall him further. He knew he couldn't issue commands to a persocom that wasn't his, but he hoped it would at least drop to a password prompt.
There was no such luck, and it only made things worse. The incensed persocom howled, darting forwards. Titch screamed as Chris reacted, sidestepping the persocom's grasp. There was no way his reaction time could best a persocom's but physics still counted for something, and the big persocom could only move his arms so fast.
Chris lunged inside his reach and planted his hands in two specific spots on his assailant's arm and shoulder. He gripped as hard as he could and the persocom tumbled past him, his momentum carrying him to the floor. His body had locked up; an old software bug when you overloaded the pressure sensors in some older models.
"NEIS unit, Artemix class: you were about to attack a human. Your logic loop should not allow this to happen. Clearly you are faulty." Chris stated as authoritatively as he could despite his shaking voice, panting as he reached for the power switch on the side of the big persocom's head. "As per our company requirements under law, you will be decommissioned for analysis and- oof!"
The persocom's other fist collided with the side of Chris's skull, and he staggered away, seeing stars.
"SO IF WE GIVE YOU TROUBLE, YOU JUST TURN US OFF?" the persocom shouted, getting back up and putting up his arms for a fight.
It disabled its pressure sensors? Chris widened his stance, ready to defend himself, but just then three security guards barrelled through scattering people, throwing the big persocom to the ground.
"TELL ME WHAT I'M FOR!" he screamed desperately, his furious eyes never leaving Chris as the guards pressed his power switch. The female persocom who tried to stop him wailed as he fell motionless, clutching her hands to her chest.
Chris shook with adrenaline, his eyes darting around the store. It wasn't over; as the source of the altercation the guards were sure to grab him too when they were finished with his assailant, and the humans in the crowd were rallying. Their voices piled on top of each other, growing angry.
"You work for NEIS, huh! What the fuck is going on?!"
"Give us your name!"
"Why hasn't NEIS done anything about the virus?"
"Do you call this safe? How can you sell something like that?!"
"I'm never buying a NEIS product again! How incompetent!"
"You're taking mine back right now! Here it is, take it!"
They surged forwards, a mob mentality forming. The security guards turned, grabbing people and trying to shout down the crowd, but there was nothing they could do as it flowed around them. Chris backed away, his heart thumping in his chest. Soon they would corner him by the changing rooms.
"Don't talk about us like that!" another screamed. It was the female persocom from before. She faced the crowd, her face a picture of anguish as she made her plea. "All of you, p-please stop! This is just a misunderstanding, my Tedi is normally so kind and gentle, please…. please don't take him from me, let me take him home," her voice quivered. "We just want to live-"
"You're a machine! You don't GET to live, you little bitch!" A human woman approached, winding back her hand for a slap, but not before her own persocom - quiet until now - sprang forward to grab her arm.
"That's enough." he said fiercely.
"Get off me, robot!" she shrieked. "Help! Help!"
Others in the crowd surged forward. All hell broke lose as the shop floor exploded into a fight. Chris threw a protective hand over Titch, looking frantically for a path back to Ivy.
"Chriiis!" Ivy's terrified scream could just be heard over the commotion, and Chris abandoned all care, shoving straight through the brawling masses in her direction. He saw her cowering by the changing room entrance as a group of people bore down on her, shouting insults.
Chris plucked Titch from his neck as he sprinted the short distance, burying his shoulder into the nearest man in a full-speed tackle and driving him into the others. They fell over like a group of dominoes, and before they could get back up Chris tore the persocom ears from Ivy's head.
"Human! She's human!" he shouted the lie over the noise. The angry people scrambled to their feet, immediately glaring at Titch, who shrank as far into his hand as she could.
Shit.
Chris broke into a run, pulling Ivy behind him and clutching Titch to his chest as two of the men gave chase. They hurried across the store, trying to lose them in the commotion, diving down another aisle as a rack of clothes toppled ahead of them followed by a woman grappling a persocom to the ground. Bits of the store went sailing over their heads, torn from their fixtures and used for weapons. Loud bangs and the smashing of glass echoed through the building over all the yelling and screaming.
The store entrance was in sight ahead. Others were running for it too, some scrambling over fallen shelves and piles of merchandise in their haste. They were so close to freedom now, Chris thought. A few more seconds and they'd be outside. He lengthened his stride, but a split second later Ivy's hand was torn from his grasp.
Chris slid to a stop, turning to see the two men holding Ivy. One had her by the neck, the leg of a pair of jeans pulled around her throat. Ivy stopped struggling as he pulled it taut.
"Give us that persocom!" the other demanded, pointing at Titch.
"I said she's human! Let her go!" Chris yelled desperately, but the man just laughed as fleeing people streamed past, buffeting their shoulders.
"We heard. We wouldn't hurt a human. We just want that thing. You can't still want it after that outburst just now! So hand it over." Ivy whimpered as the other man tugged on the jeans around her neck.
"Come on, mate. Give us your persocom and we'll let your little girlfriend go." he grinned viciously.
Chris strode towards them, rage clouding his vision. He extended his hand, Titch clinging to his thumb and closing her eyes. As Ivy's captor reached for her, Chris leapt forward, plunging his fist into the man's face with all his strength. He crumpled to the floor. Chris turned his attention to the other man, who hesitated only a moment before letting go of the jeans around Ivy, fleeing back into the store.
"We're leaving!" Chris shouted, grabbing Ivy again and pulling her towards the daylight.
The trio burst through the front doors into the autumn sun, and Chris and Ivy began sprinting in earnest now that they were in the open. Others poured out of the store behind them; some running away from the fight, others giving chase. In the distance, the telltale wail of police sirens began their approach.
Ivy's legs pumped effortlessly; she glided smoothly across the floor, having no trouble keeping up with Chris and his longer stride. People in the street stared as they flew past, but they kept up the breakneck pace for as long as they were able, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the store.
A few minutes later they finally stopped on a quiet residential street. They were quite a distance from the town centre, now. It would hopefully be enough. "Well," Chris gasped, carefully putting Titch down as he collapsed to his knees. She glanced around nervously, bell jingling as she looked to see if they were followed. "That could've... gone better." Chris managed in between breaths.
Ivy flopped down beside him, panting. Her cheeks looked flushed; an interesting result of her DFP system trying to shed heat. "Hey, you OK?" Chris said, gulping air. "Why are you- You look-"
"Yeah!" she panted, "Fine. Not tired. Just- cooling down. Phew! Wow."
Chris looked her over, checking to see if she was damaged. She still wore the clothes from the changing room. He wondered if that counted as theft or not, considering the circumstances.
"Ivy, your feet!" he exclaimed. She had no shoes on having taken them off to change, and her socks were in tatters.
"They're fine," she puffed, trying to draw deeper breaths. "You gave me. Several pairs of. Socks, remember?" Chris looked unconvinced, so she rolled her eyes and offered a foot for him to inspect.
"Huh." Chris wheezed, rubbing the sole of her foot. It was dirty, but nothing more. "You're right."
"I said so. Hey, that tickles!" Ivy pulled her foot away in protest.
"What…. just happened?" Chris said, half talking to himself. "One minute… and then…"
The others didn't say anything. Nobody had anything to say, after that. For a few minutes they quietly sat there in the empty street.
"We should keep moving," Titch said eventually, patting Chris's hand. "We can't stay here, let's get back home."
"Oookay," Chris groaned as Ivy helped him up, propping him up with an arm around his waist. They walked the rest of the way home, pensive and subdued.
Ivy was physically fine as soon as she had cooled down, but it was still slow going now that Chris was so exhausted. They arrived at the house some twenty minutes later. Chris nearly fell through his front door, staggering to the lounge and dropping onto the sofa. He lay across it, closing his eyes. Now that he was home he could feel everything. His shoulder hurt. His fist really hurt. His legs felt like jelly, and his head pounded too. That would be a stress headache. Or maybe from when he tackled those guys…
He fell asleep almost instantly.
A few hours later, he woke to the sound of persocoms shuffling into the room. He peered at them blearily, his head still pounding. They stood there awkwardly, and Chris waited, not sure what to expect. Was this the start of another argument? He better nip that in the bud right now.
"Look, before you start, I'm still having difficulty understanding what happened, so -"
"We're sorry." They said in unison. Titch grimaced as she said it, as if the words were distasteful.
"Thank you for looking after us." Ivy added sheepishly.
Chris pressed his hands to his face, groaning at least to some degree in relief. "Nyuuurgh. No, I'm the one to be sorry. What just happened was awful. I don't even know what to say. So many terrible things… it was my fault."
"Actually it was clearly mine." Titch admitted grouchily. "Remember? Crazy persocom goes nuts at a human, accidentally inspiring a really crazy persocom to start a fight, followed swiftly by a riot…" She folded her arms. "But all the same I meant what I said, Chris." She folded her arms and looked at him meaningfully. "This can't go on. We're going to need to come to some kind of understanding."
"I know," Chris said, sitting up. "That's kind of what I'm getting at. You only shouted because of your frustration, not knowing where we stand. You couldn't have known that persocom would… That he would…" He closed his eyes, trying to clear his head. Trying to erase the memory of that persocom's face, laying there on the shop floor. The way the guards had so callously turned him off, and the way he had been about to do the same not moments before. The way that slender persocom had wailed in distress as the light went out of his eyes.
Titch, you've changed so much over the last few months, I don't recognise you any more. You became so lifelike I started to treat you like friend when it suited me, and a machine when it didn't. I'm sorry for that, now. You say humanity created persocoms and now they don't know what to do with them. I definitely agree.
He looked at her, stood there watching him intently; for all the world, a miniature person standing before him. "How about... how about we officially call it a friendship, and go from there?"
Titch blinked in surprise, and then beamed at him, almost bouncing on her little feet. "That's all I needed to hear." she chirped, bell jingling. Her pure joyous expression was infectious, and Chris couldn't help but feel his spirits raise a little himself.
"What about me?" Ivy asked hopefully, nervously playing with her hands. Chris studied her carefully for several seconds. He remembered the morning all too vividly. Yes, after everything that happened today, Ivy's question deserved a more deliberate response.
"You?" he repeated quietly. Ivy fidgeted wordlessly under his gaze. He stood up slowly, wincing a little bit. He walked towards her, looking her in the eyes as he gently cupped her chin in his hand. He held her still for a moment. Then, he slowly raised her head as he leaned in.
"You... are my friend too." Chris walked away at the last second, leaving her red in the face.
"Interesting… I didn't know you could blush!" he teased, grinning and heading for the kitchen as Ivy's feeble protests of "cooling" floated down the hallway.
Aches and pains be damned, it felt good not being on the receiving end of that, for once! Yes, turning the tables was very satisfying.