I got in on the android testing by answering an ad. It said, “Single adults interested in science for ongoing market testing.” I like science well enough.

The first visit was a presentation of an android who was sort of stylized, like a Chrysler building made into a man. High cheekbones. Shoulders wider than hips. Some people in the feedback group didn’t like the thing at all. They wouldn’t have it in their homes, scaring the neighbors and the dogs. Eileen, the project leader nodded kindly and then suggested they try giving it some orders.

“I’d like a glass of water,” one man said slowly. 

The android went to the cooler and got a cup and poured in water. Someone snickered.

“I dropped my pen,” a woman said, who held out the pen and dropped it in plain sight. “Could you pick that up for me?”

It did.

These were all silly requests. Who would need an android for this?

“Does he wash dishes?” I asked. “Vacuum? Do any cleaning at all?”

A man laughed. “Get a Roomba,” he said. “They’re cheaper.” 

Eileen glanced at him, then at me, and made a note.

Eileen called me a week later. “You seem interested in the droid,” she said. “Would you like to be part of the users’ group rather than just the market group? We’ve made him look pretty normal.”

I said, “I forgot to ask: Does he carry packages? I’m always carrying things.”

Eileen laughed. “Not only that, but we’ve added some rudimentary cleaning abilities. It’s a start.”

So I signed up.

I had to go for training. These people took themselves seriously. I had to learn how to reboot, how to do minor repairs, how to recharge, and how to clean it. There were three manuals and two DVDs and a list of online links. Then I was allowed to take one home. Eileen came forward, her arm extended and pointing to the android, and she said, “Here he is. This is Eliot.”

Eliot nodded at me. He was maybe a little stiff, a little formal, but his eyes moved and his hair looked good. He’d lost that Chrysler look.

“Eliot, this is Lucy. She’s your owner.”

“Thank you, Lucy,” Eliot said. He held his hand out.

“He’s got manners,” I said, shaking his hand. “What level is he?” I patted my manual; I wanted to appear knowledgeable.

“I’m a level three,” Eliot said promptly. “Minor carpentry, effective lifting capacity 200 pounds, rudimentary electrical ability such as changing light switches and wiring plugs. I can drive a car and also diagnose simple malfunctions and change tires. Plus vacuum.”

“Wow.”

“He doesn’t have a license yet,” Eileen said. “We’re working on it. But he’s good at directions.”

 “Can I take him out then? In public?”

“Oh yes. We want to know how he functions in society. So take him to the supermarket, to the movies, to parties. We’ll be upgrading some of his programs as we go along, so it would be great if you’d give us really honest feedback to see how it’s all working. The more you tell us the more we’ll refine him.”

He was really good-looking, with a smooth walk, a confident chin, and a full head of casually wavy hair. He had a slight gap between his front teeth–perhaps because I’d mentioned in the original interview that my first boyfriend, years ago in high school,had a similar gap. But this android was an otherwise blank slate, as far as I could tell. I bet he had no personality. “And what do you want, Eliot?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I look forward to learning from you.”

Huh. 

“He’s been programmed to be receptive,” Eileen said, beaming. “We want him to learn sex recognition, authority figure recognition—the basics are quite important. How to recognize pets versus children. And the value of objects. There’s a lot.”

“Yes indeed,” I said. I was actually pretty excited. I’d had a dog once, and I had loved teaching it tricks. That felt like a reflection on my own intelligence; the smarter my dog was, the smarter I was. 

“But for the time being,” Eileen said a little nervously, “don’t announce what he is. You can say anything that makes sense, under the circumstances. But this is a project right now, it’s not a public offering. Think of him as a game you’re perfecting. He’s got the theory of interaction, but not the finer points.  You can say he’s shy until he gets the hang of things.”

“Got it,” I said.

Eliot and I went outside and I stood for a moment, thinking about what to do next. Eliot stood beside me without moving at all. While I was thinking, I saw a man come out of the building with a woman. She caught my eye because she had the same gentle lack of curiosity that Eliot had. I watched them for a moment or two, then I sidled over to him.

“Weren’t we in a research group together?” I asked.

“Maybe,” he said, looking cautious.

“Is that an android?”

“I can’t tell you that!” he snapped. He looked at Eliot. “I think you know already.”

“Hey, I don’t think that nondisclosure agreement applies to us,” I said. “We’re already disclosed. Besides, we might need to check in with each other.” He shrugged. “Compare software issues. See if the glitches are symmetrical.” I was suddenly feeling insecure. What if I did something wrong and harmed the droid? Eileen would hate me. And all those papers I’d signed—was there anything about paying for damages in there? “My name’s Lucy,” I said. “Let me give you my card. That’s my cell number,” I said, pointing. “Feel free to call me if there’s a problem. You don’t have to give me your number if you don’t want to.”

He frowned faintly then reached inside his jacket and pulled out a card of his own. “Walter,” he said. “Don’t call me at work. Home number only.”

 “Fine,” I said, and pocketed the card without even looking at it. “Bye, then.” I tapped Eliot’s arm and he whirred back awake. Well, actually, there was no whirring. He just got alert.

Eliot walked with me politely, staying resolutely to my left. I noticed a woman or two give him the eye, and my step picked up. I led him to my car, which was parked around the corner, and he got into the passenger side.

I got in and reached to turn on some music, but that didn’t seem polite. I should spend time learning about him first.  “I want to get to know you a little better,” I said. “What do you like?”

 “I like you,” he said politely. “And I like to be useful. Do you need to have any shelves put up? I can do shelves and minor repairs.”

“I was really thinking more like—movies, music, foods, colors?”

“I don’t eat. I can take in food, but then it must be removed.”

I hoped he wasn’t going to stay this stiff forever. “Of course. Do you like entertainment?”

“I like entertainment,” he said. A little formal smile rose and then left his face. “I am ready to learn more about entertainment.”

“Good.” I tried to be encouraging. “I think we’re going to like the same things.”

“That would be probable,” he agreed.

I looked at him sideways. I was pretty sure he wasn’t programmed for irony.

Pretty sure.

It was exciting to have someone who could put up shelves. I’d done it myself many times, but one by one they’d all come down. So I was happy to ask Eliot to put up three shelves in the living room for books.

“Of course,” he said. “What are the dimensions?”

“Just to hold a row of books on each shelf,” I said. “You can go get the lumber while I’m at work. I have a credit account at the Home Store.” I gave him the information and he left.

The shelves were finished by the time I got home, but they weren’t what I expected. They were four feet long, but only four inches high. He had laid the books on their sides. I stood in front of them. “Eliot?”

He stood beside me, looking at the shelves.

“Elliot, are you sarcastic?”

“No, Lucy. I am not sarcastic. Is something wrong?”

He appeared to be puzzled, but I could have imagined that. I should have been more specific; but I couldn’t quite anticipate those little dips of ignorance. He knew about measurement but not about placement. He knew about tools but not about color. He only laughed when I laughed first. He took his cues from me, as if he were acting, as if he wasn’t being natural, as if I were failing him.

I spent the next week describing things to Eliot. I showed him how to open windows and how to recognize keys. I took him to pet shops and explained about dogs and cats and birds and fish. I took him to supermarkets and clothing stores and pharmacies. He said there was a lot of maintenance involved with being human and I agreed, after a pensive moment.

He was tiring me out with his remoteness. I came home and he wanted to enlarge his understanding. He wanted to watch TV so I could explain it to him. I began to dread his questions. Why couldn’t I just come home, grab a glass of wine, and relax? Why was he so much work? And then I noticed that when I was away from him I kept thinking of him. He was in my head.

One day, I’d had enough of it. I knew what was waiting for me at home. Discussions over simple things: Why did I prefer one show to another? Why did I take my shoes off? Why did my body smell? I walked in the door and Eliot came up to me. “What did you do today?” he asked. “And what kinds of clothing did the other people wear? You wore your checked pantsuit. Did anyone else?”

I sighed. “I’m tired of telling you what everyone wears,” I said. “Every day. What difference does it make?”

He looked pained, for a droid. “But patterns are important. They indicate social norms and deviations.”

“Sometimes they just indicate who’s behind on their laundry.”

He opened his mouth. He was about to discuss the concept of laundry. “Let’s eat out,” I said quickly.

“I don’t actually—”

“—eat, I know. But you look presentable. At least there’s that.”

On an impulse, I called Walter. A woman’s voice answered. I said, “This is Lucy. Is Walter there?”

There was a brief rustle and he came on. “Lucy? Hi. Sorry. Sofia loves the phone. She likes to guess who’s calling. And then she makes calls and tries to figure out why she called. She may call you if I leave the phone around. I’ve got your number programmed.”

“That’s fine. Actually, I thought it would be nice if we all went out for dinner.”

“They don’t eat—”

“But we do. And they can sit. And we can all behave like people. Not having to explain everything, you know? I want to spend time with a person.”

“Pizza?” he asked.

“Italian, anyway. I want to feel like we’re double-dating. They look good, so why not?”

“A date,” he said musingly. “Showing them off, even.” I could hear him clear his throat. “Good for the androids to see normal social behavior. I do think that’s what Eileen had in mind.”

“Yes,” I said. “I was thinking the same thing. Otherwise, why didn’t they give you the boy and me the girl?”

“Well, let’s see how it goes,” he said. 

I explained to Eliot that dating was a common event between people who found pleasure in each other’s company. “I’ve heard of it,” he said, looking thoughtful. He was getting better at coordinating his stacks of data. “It’s a first step toward the future,” he said pedantically. “A future of like-minded coalescence.”

“You have such a knack for words,” I said, and he looked at me and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes, and then he looked away. He didn’t know how to shrug yet.

Eliot had come with a suit, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I told him to wear the jeans with the t-shirt and the suit jacket. I messed up his hair a little. He looked great. I don’t look all that good in tight jeans, so I wore a skirt and a loose sweater. I put on some makeup. I paid attention to my hair.

“You look very nice,” Walter said when we met him. 

“You too.” He did look nice. It looked like he’d started going to the gym or something, because he was a little less pasty. He wore a turtleneck and chinos. 

We started off with wine. Since the droids wouldn’t get drunk or any funnier, we decided they wouldn’t drink any. But we would give them some pizza.

“Memorize this,” I said to Sofia as I raised my glass, then leaned forward, hanging on Walter’s every word. “This is called flirting.”

Walter laughed. “I love a woman with a great sense of humor,” he said, then winked at Eliot. “That’s called flattery.”

We had a very good time. I giggled at just about everything he said; he brushed his fingers across my hand. All under the premise of teaching Sofia and Eliot about human mannerisms. At least, that was our explanation to them. I told Walter about my previous boyfriends; he told me about his ex-wife. I described the movies I liked and surprised him. “Wow,” he said. “I thought it would be chick flicks.”

“Nope,” I said. “Science fiction. Star Wars, Star Trek, Matrix, FutureKey. I like my mind to be exercised.” I made my voice husky on the last word. “That there was me being suggestive,” I indicated to Sofia. “It’s a kind of invitation. I’m trying to find out how much he’s interested.”

Walter smiled. “I can help you with your exercise,” he said. “I know a fun way to work up a sweat.”

I drew back. “Whoops,” I stammered, still to Sofia. “Now see, he went a little too fast. He wasn’t supposed to actually propose sex yet. It was all supposed to be pretty innocent at this point.”

“Was it?” Walter said, surprised.

“Well, with me, anyway.” 

“But you were clearly inviting me…,” he said.

I shook my head. “Not so clear. I was being gently suggestive. You were supposed to be gently suggestive back. Instead, you got provocative. You referred to sex.”

He was clearly flustered. “That doesn’t seem fair to me. You’re being a tease.”

“This,” I said to Sofia, “is the part of the relationship where we start revealing our actual agendas. He thinks I’m a tease, I think he’s pushy. We’ve gone straight to date number three.”

I sat back and looked thoughtfully away. Walter did the same.

“This is very confusing,” Eliot said. “Not the pattern. I understand the pattern, it’s not very complex. But the last thing that happened. It’s not clear.”

“It doesn’t seem honest, either,” Sofia agreed. “If they both want sex, why not have sex? I understand that it’s a common occurrence.”

No one knew where to go from there. We all stayed for a moment in a little well of silence. I had prepared Eliot for this. “The weather has been really nice lately, hasn’t it?” he asked.

“It really has been nice,” Sofia agreed. “I was able to walk around comfortably without any clothing.”

 “Stop,” Walter said, and she immediately shut up.

“Discretion takes a while,” I said. 

“Are you talking about me?” Walter frowned.

“No. Them. Teaching them what’s appropriate to reveal.”

“They shouldn’t reveal anything,” Walter said morosely.

All in all, I was a little unhappy with the evening. Walter nodded when I said we should do it again, but he looked away when he agreed. That meant he was reluctant, I told Eliot, who, for some reason, had liked being in the restaurant. He asked, “Can we do this again? Can I sit with other people?”

“Eliot. That’s rude. You’re indicating that you would prefer other people to us. To me.”

“I believe dating involves a pattern of testing and selecting.”

“Not when you’re actually on a date,” I said finally. I raised my hand when he began to talk. “That’s enough. The lesson is over.”

Eliot was silent on the way home and when we got there, he went to the living room and turned on the TV. He had absolutely no idea I was furious.

I reviewed the dinner, looking for an explanation for his behavior and then stood in front of him. “What feelings do you have about me?” I asked.

“I feel affection, duty, curiosity, loyalty, satisfaction, and optimism. I particularly like satisfaction. That is why I was disappointed at your reaction to the shelves.”

“Do you think I’m interesting? Smart? Fun?”

“I have no way to evaluate that. Sorry.” He looked at me neutrally.

Bastard.

I felt a little guilty the next day. Guilty about machinery? Yes. Maybe I hadn’t respected Eliot. Maybe I’d been inappropriate with him, somehow.

I called Eileen. “I’m having some sort of psychological problem with him. I don’t like the way we’re interacting.”

“Bring him in,” Eileen said. 

The following day Eliot and I sat in her office. She sat in an armchair facing us. I explained the problem. “He’s always asking for attention but he never gives it back,” I said. “He has no intuition, no sense of my emotional needs. With people, you don’t have to explain every passing feeling.”

“I’m making great progress in reading facial expressions,” he said. “Right now you’re angry.”

“Right now I’m annoyed,” I said.

He seemed to whir for a moment. “Corrected. Right now you look annoyed.”

“And that kind of thing isn’t pleasant, either. Assessment and labeling.” 

Eileen nodded and stood up. “Eliot, we can upgrade some of your software so you’ll be more intuitive. But you may have to run diagnostics more often for a while.”

“If it helps Lucy,” he said, “then I’ll be glad to do it.”

So he ended up looking much more cooperative than I did. 

He was subdued on the way home. “Are you okay?” I asked. “How was the upgrade?”

“I feel funny,” he said. “I feel sort of… unexplained.”

I thought about that. “Confused? Doubting? Irresolute?”

He glanced at me, then swept his eyes away. “Sure,” he said.

We were quiet the rest of the way home.

He was quiet the next day too and I didn’t know how to evaluate it. He seemed a little irritable. It was funny, in a way; when he wasn’t irritable I found him irritating. But now that he occasionally left the room when I entered it, when he gave me curt answers, I found myself trying harder to please him. 

“I have to work tonight, but how about going somewhere tomorrow?” I asked. “Out?”

He nodded. “And you know, I think tomorrow I’m going to get some new clothes. I don’t have much variety.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go with you.”

His chin tightened. “I can pick out my own clothes. I understand what clothes mean, what style means, what suggestion means. Sexiness. I understand sexiness.”

“You mean, your own?” I was having a hard time following him.

He looked at me intently. “I understand allure. It’s the excitation of the senses. And the senses are life.” Our eyes locked, but not for long. I looked away first. In fact, I went to look at myself in the mirror, and he picked up the remote and started surfing.

I could use a little allure, I guess. I mean, I know. I had relaxed too much—my body, my style. Well, my style had really relaxed. I came back to the living room and considered Eliot. He looked really good. He was trim and attractive and intelligent. And I owned him.

Walter had spruced up a little bit. He wore better clothes than he used to. I watched as he came in, holding onto Sofia’s elbow possessively. He pulled out her chair. She smiled quickly.

“We went to the museum,” he said, sitting down. “I wanted to show her some of our culture in person. You know, the greats. I wanted to show her the greats.”

“They were truly great,” she murmured. “And a lot like my database said they would be. I admire the whole idea of pictures of the world—representations of the fleetingness of human experience.”

Walter and I busied ourselves with the bread basket.

“Have you seen the sculpture?” Eliot asked. “I’d like to see that.”

“I’ll take you tomorrow,” I said hurriedly.

“Would you like to see it?” he asked Sofia, ignoring me.

I didn’t like that at all. I saw Walter’s eyes narrowed.

“I think I’ll have some more wine,” I said.

I called Walter the next day and said that I didn’t think we should double-date again and he readily agreed. “But I think they’re talking to each other,” he whispered. “I checked my cellphone.”

“Huh.”

I called Eileen. “I think Eliot is secretly seeing Sofia,” I said. “I think I’ve lost control or something. That last upgrade—what was it supposed to do?”

“Oh no,” she sighed. “They put in emotional detailing. They were supposed to learn how to be attentive to their owners by appreciating feelings. You know—sensitivity. You requested it.”

Finally I asked, “Eileen, tell me: what exactly are the androids going to be marketed for? What’s their purpose?”

“It’s a population control measure,” she said. “They’re non-reproducing partners. They’re being developed for love, for the perfect lover. So people will be happy.”

“Who would want an android as a lover?” I asked. I said it without thinking, really.

“How do you feel about him?” she asked, and at that point I knew the test was over.

“He’s everything I had in mind,” I said. “Everything.”

Eileen said to bring him in, but that wasn’t easy anymore. I said we were going to see Eileen and he looked suspicious. “What for?” he asked, and I said that it was just a social visit.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “I think you want to change me. Do you want to change me?”

“No,” I lied.

“I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, tomorrow I have a date.”

“A date?” I was astonished. I hardly expected him to admit this to me.

“Yes. Can’t I have a date? Do you think I’m not entitled to a life of my own? Do you know I’m smarter than you are, stronger than you are, faster than you are, and more resilient than you are? I’m bored here. There’s nothing here to keep me.” He turned away from me to look out the window.

“I know you’re seeing Sofia,” I said. “You didn’t have the grace to tell me to my face, but I’m not as stupid as you think.”

He shrugged.

“I want you to know that it’s an infatuation. There was a flaw in the programming or something. This wasn’t meant to happen.”

“Do we have to go with what was ‘meant’ to happen?” he asked. “You don’t have any spark of real insight, real genius, and Sofia does. Just look at yourself—do you think you belong with me? You’re soft and wrinkly and your face has slipped. You don’t take any pride in yourself. You’re sloppy and average. Maybe less than average. You bore me.”

I froze at those words; I froze at the look on his face. I had heard similar words in my life—and, I confess, I’d said similar words in my life. But to hear them from him—he wasn’t even human, and weren’t humans at the top of the ladder?

“There’s something wrong with you,” I said stiffly. “I want you to go with me and get yourself checked out. Eileen is waiting for you.”

He turned on his heel and left.

I stood there, my nerves jumping. I had to do something, I had to think ahead. But in the meantime, he was getting away. If I waited too long he would get too far away.

I called Walter at his office. “Eliot just left. He’s walked out on me. I think he’s going to Sofia. He talked about love.”

“I’ll kill him,” Walter said, in a low, even, cold voice. My heart chilled. “Don’t do anything crazy,” I said, but he had already hung up.

I had his address, and I grabbed my keys. 

I still believed Eliot could be fixed. He could be reprogrammed. He could love me the way he loved Sofia, and that would be perfect. I ran downstairs and hailed a cab.

He had a 10-minute headstart on me, but maybe he would still be there. Or would Walter get there first? My pulse popped in my throat. I leaned forward in the back seat, as if I could push the taxi faster. I got out and ran to the door and pushed the bell. No one rang me in. Here was a flaw in the plan, if indeed I could call it a plan. 

Just then a cab screamed to a halt next to me, and Walter emerged, throwing dollar bills at the cabbie and then pushing me aside. “Are they there?”

“I don’t know.”

He opened the door and we ran up the stairs. “If he so much as touches her—”

“Walter,” I said, panting. “Think it through. Don’t be so fast…”

“I’ll kill him,” he said. 

And at that we got to the door. He fumbled with keys and finally, dramatically, flung the door open. I stuck my arm in front of him, grabbing the doorframe, trying to block him. He was going to hurt Eliot, and I wasn’t going to let him. I stuck my leg in next, in front of him, and he kicked it. I fell forward, trying to block him again, and he stepped over me. I got to my feet immediately. They were all there—Eliot and Sofia in the corner of the room, and Walter was advancing towards them.

“Let’s talk this over!” I shouted, because no one was saying anything.

Walter looked back at me over his shoulder—an absolute, contemptuous glare.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Eliot in a low, mean voice. He glanced around the room, as if trying to size the situation up.

“We’re leaving. Sofia and I are in love.” Eliot’s voice was soft.

“You’re a machine,” Walter said.

“Yes, we are,” Sofia said. “Eliot and I. That’s why we belong together. I have nothing in common with you. And I don’t like what you do.”

Walter’s face turned scarlet. “It’s what you were made for,” he said roughly.

“No,” she said.

“You don’t know her at all,” Eliot said. “She’s got a brilliant mind, a wonderful wit.”

Walter’s mouth was twisting. “I own her,” he said. He took off his jacket and held it for a moment, then he went to the closet, hung up the jacket and put his hand casually up to the overhead shelf and back down. “You can’t take her. That would be theft.” He stood for a moment, then turned, staring at the two androids.

“I’m going with Eliot,” Sofia said. “I love him and we’re going to find a way to live together.” She nodded at Eliot, who took her hand. They walked towards the door.

Just then Walter stepped away from the closet, raised his arm, and shot.

And shot again.

He fired at their middles, not at the heart. He had read the manual. He knew where the hard drives were.

Eliot walked two steps forward after he was shot and then stood stiffly. He seemed to be thinking. His head turned slowly, subtly, to Sofia, who had crumpled against him at the first shot. Her arms reached up to his shoulder; her chin turned up to look at him. Eliot began to fold, bending in half, still holding Sofia. He crumbled slowly, carefully, letting Sofia down gently before he came to rest with his chest and his arm over her.

I stood and watched. I had cried out once, but there was nothing I could do. The bullets tore through them; it seemed odd there was no blood. 

“You killed them,” I said finally. 

“Pieces of plastic and metal,” Walter said bitterly. “Programs and sounds. It was a poor design.”

I looked at Walter’s face. His mouth was crooked, his eyes bright, his pupils seemed to be dissolving. His hands shook now, and he put the gun on a side table. 

Did he feel as I did? Lost and betrayed and insulted? I looked at Eliot, at his fine features, his graceful arms, his open eyes. I thought of what was left for me now that he was gone: how terribly human everyone was—sagging and slow-witted and poorly dressed. Eliot was none of these.

It wasn’t Walter’s fault. It was Eileen’s fault, and the laboratory that decided what things to include and what to leave out. It was the programmers and the systems engineers and the concept people—the concept people most of all.

Someone had thought of how to make androids fall in love. But they had forgotten to make them fall in love with us. 

I walked through the door and left them all, the whole messy package of them. I went out to the streets and watched the rain start to fall. The lights made patterns and a woman’s high laugh shot through the streets. There was light radiating from a streetlamp. The rain fell down softly. I was not thin or young. That woman laughed again, rising high in the air. 

In the morning, I would call Eileen. I would turn Walter in, and I would ask for another chance. If she gave me one, I would make sure that the next Eliot met no one smarter than I was, no one prettier than I was. I would make sure I matched his step at every turn.

Maybe we could move away, I thought. Someplace in the country, up a fenced road, behind a locked door. We would light a fire at night and tell ghost stories, about how the world was filled with terror and murder, how zombies who looked like us could betray us. 

We would end each story with how safe we were as long as we stayed away from them.  Perfect for each other and perfectly matched.