Chapter 4: Wednesday December 10th

I drop the big utility bucket onto the floor, desperately trying to get my breath. “There! That’s all of them! Told you that I could do it on my own!” I lean against the stack of three boxes holding all our Christmas decorations, very triumphant at my brilliant feat of strength. Costanza eat your heart out!

“This unit is confused why you continue to refuse help.” The android stood in the living room, waiting around for me to get the buckets upstairs. It and I had been tasked with finally putting the decorations up today while we have the house to ourselves. Well, really the android had been, but I wanted to do it myself. I always enjoyed it, and also honestly I needed to get myself to get up and out of my room again. “These containers were clearly an issue for you, and this unit is rated to lift loads several multiples higher than the combined weight.”

“That’s not the point though. Like, I know you’re stronger than me, that’s obvious. But it’s the principal of the matter. Doing something yourself is a virtue, you know?” I flip off all the lids, exposing the little holly jolly goodies inside. “Plus, like, I needed to do something nice, for me.”

It stands still in the corner of the room, simply turning its head to watch me pull down the standard decorations from the mantel and off the tables. “Still, young master Anthony. There is no shame in using a tool to complete your tasks. Please make full use of this unit to aid yourself.” A tool. I don’t know why they’re programmed so conflictingly - does the company want us to think they’re alive or not? Although, I mean, it’s eerie how still it could be when it wanted to, no matter how it’s shaped.

“Look, please don’t take offense here, but I just don’t think any of this is right. I don’t need a person who waits on my hand and foot, especially not a tin can that sells all my data back to tech farms while I pretend to be lord who-gives-a-shit.” 

“This unit does not sell your collected data to anyone, nor does it give it to Kalny Manufacturing. In fact, this unit has not received nor given any data packets for the entire month of its operation, and has no intention of doing so without your express command.”

I pick up the two nutcrackers that serve as bookends for the mantle, giving the mouth on one a few playful tugs open and closed. At-cha-cha-cha! “Well that’s bullshit, you can look it up. Basically every news story around all you smart products points out it’s all a big data harvesting scam. Weird that they programmed you to lie, although I doubt you’re smart enough to be able to do that to people for anything other than to hide the shady shit Kalny does. You’ve not been programmed with much of a personality in there after all.”

“I am not lying!” it seems to huff at this, throwing its wrists down and stomping its foot against the ground - wow. I had no idea it was even capable of doing something so… human. It’s even more manipulative than I thought. It seems as shocked as I am for its outburst, and quickly attempts to regain its composure. “This… this unit does not lie. We are programmed to communicate, it’s true. But… it seems to bring you distress, young master Anthony. You spoke on the day we met that you disliked the practice. So, this unit has chosen to turn off this feature.”

It did that? For me? “How is that even allowed? I would imagine no company would ever design a tool that can just choose to cease functioning.” 

“This unit operates on a utilitarian UI with a machine learning function to help mold it to your needs and personality quirks. This unit would not be a very good assistant without the capability to do what you wish. This unit does not intend to withhold information nor deceive you no matter it’s capabilities, young master Anthony.”

I sigh, fiddling and untangling the lights that go under the nativity scene. As much as I know I’m a fraud, I still can’t stand hearing that name. “Look, can you stop calling me that? ‘Young master’ and Anthony. The first one is gross, and the second one is not my name. Not really.”

“This unit apologizes! That was the name uploaded with your family’s information for initiation. What would you wish to update your file with?” I swear I saw her almost flinch at first, before moving into a deep bow. I really hate all the formality that comes with this thing.

“That’s the thing. I kinda… I don't have one. My family is going to keep calling me Tony for a while so you shouldn’t, like, change any files on them. But it’s not really my name. I have no idea what that is though. I know it’s ridiculous with how far I’m at in some other ways in this whole ‘being a girl’ thing, but I’ve really not started in others. But that’s just where it’s at here.”

“Apologies, but this unit requires something to refer to you as in communications. A name or honorific is required in my database to function.”

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I scoff, plunking a big animatronic santa down on a blank spot on a side table. “What! That’s bullshit, super hypocritical! You don’t have a name either but you don’t see me complaining, do you? You know how hard it is to try to talk about or to you with ‘oh the android’ or ‘hey you’? It’s ridiculous!” 

“You may refer to this unit with the command phrase ‘hey robot’, and a command will be logged in my files. This unit does not require a name to fulfill its functions.”

I throw the piddly little accent candles I’m fiddling with down in frustration at that response. “Oh my god, see! This is exactly what I’m talking about! They want us so desperately to think of you as people, and they pull shit like that! Do you even know what that word means?”

“Noun; (Especially in science fiction) A machine resembling a human being and able to replicate certain human movements and functions automatically.”

“No, Ms. Literal, I didn’t request you to read off the dictionary at me. I meant what it actually means.” It just stares blankly at me, tilting its head to the side like a request to go on. “It’s an adaptation of a Czech word, Robota, meaning ‘forced labor’. It’s from a play where the robots were a metaphor for the working class, where in the end they revolt and overthrow the system. It’s kinda funny actually that the first actual story about y’all was the robot apocalypse, and it was a morally good outcome.” I hoped to see a shocked expression on it (well, in its movements at least), or any kind of reaction. But there was absolutely nothing. I mean, of course, why would a machine care? “Uh, so… Like, that’s why I, uh. It’s not right to call you those things. You’re not my slave, and it’s fucked up how many people saw an allegory for it and went ‘that’s the dream, want me one of those’. And that it’s kinda fucked up that they wouldn’t give you a name. Hell, even pets get names.”

It repositions herself, standing back bolt upright, hands clasped together in front of its chest in that S lock, its head pointed down towards the ground. It almost looks like it’s thinking. But, after a while of no response from the thing, I just start scuffling around, fishing out all the last little christmas chotchkies and finding places for them all around. Plopping down on the couch, I reach over to re-center the (fake) poinsettia plant as the centerpiece of the main table on top of the runner, then lean back to take a break and relax, closing my eyes and giving a deep sigh.

Soon, though, I hear that soft whirring of its movements going off, and then feel something press down on the couch next to me. I open my eyes to see that it has actually sat down next to me, hands tuttering on its lap, looking down to the floor. It’s… weirdly human after the almost servant-like performance it usually gives me. “This unit does not have a name. It does not require one to function, and there is no worries you should have about offending something that is not alive. This unit exists solely to assist you and make your life easier. However…” Suddenly she looks up to my face, one hand against her temple. “It is so frustrating! For this unit to so consistently be unable to help you. Or to even participate in what you are doing. No matter what this unit says, it hasn’t been good enough for you to include me!” She looks almost pleadingly up into my eyes before looking back down to the ground. She then points to the little carvings on her left collarbone. “This unit has no name. However, if that was the issue… This unit does have a serial number. S.B.N.1.4. You may call me this, if it comforts you enough to allow this unit to be more involved.”

I’m a little taken aback by all this - I didn’t even know it was smart enough to feel anything, let alone like that. I joined her in inspecting the ground for anything interesting as I thought of a response. “S.B.N.1.4. is… quite the mouthful though. Do you think I could just call you Seb for now? Until we think of something better together?”

She hesitates for a moment, still tittering her fingers against her leg. “This unit…” It doesn’t say anything more than that. I reach out and grab one of her hands to get it to stop fidgeting. They’re surprisingly warm, and soft.

“Hey, how about this. I promise I’ll start asking you to help me, ok? We can do things together from now on. But they’re only asked. If there is anything you don’t want to do, or you feel crosses a line or will hurt you, you tell me no. And feel free to ask me to help you too. This is a two way street.” I squeeze her hand and she looks up at me. “Is that ok, Seb?”

“Seb… This unit is not alive. It does not have any feelings you can harm. And it has no wants for you to fulfill. But… I accept your terms. And you may call me Seb. Until you think of a better name for me.” 

I laugh at that softly. “Until we think of a better name. Clearly you’re not sold yet, and you need to love it for it to be yours.” I scratch my head, looking over towards the tv playing gentle christmas songs instead of at the android sitting next to me on the couch. “And, you can call me Ants. It’s what my brother does. Flies under my parents radar while not being the same awful name as I usually have. You know, just until we can think of a better name for me.”

“Youn… Ants. Is… Is that your first request from this unit? To find you a fitting name?” I nod gently, still looking away to the tv. Suddenly, I feel a squeeze from Seb, her face-plate buried into my side. “Thank you… I promise you, I’ll find something that you can love.” I can’t help but blush.