Rachel Hawkins - Grim

But none of that shook me as badly as what Rowan did next.

“No,” he said. “No, it does not bother me.”

Rowan had told me a lie.

He winced then, and turned sharply away from me. Apparently violating one of his core protocols activated something within Rowan that mimicked pain. I hated seeing that, but I was too freaked-out to respond appropriately—to respond at all. I could only stare. There should have been no way for a robot to violate core protocols. None. If Rowan could do that, then he had become something more than a robot.

When Rowan turned back to me, I could tell that he knew I’d recognized his lie; my expression must have given it away. He understood enough about cybernetics to realize how significant this was. Very quietly he said, “I realize that you must deactivate me now.”

I said the only thing I could say—something I’d never have dreamed of saying just a few short weeks before. “I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

I couldn’t have done that to Rowan any more than I could have killed a human being. “I’m just not.”

“But you will report me.”

Slowly I shook my head no. Rowan’s face lit up again with the same wonder I’d seen when he first awoke—but somehow, now it was even more amazing.

“It’s just a malfunction,” I said hastily. “A glitch. No big thing.”

He wasn’t fooled.

I’d been hanging on to the railing this whole time. Slowly Rowan lowered one of his hands over mine, his fingers sliding between my fingers, his palm warm against the back of my hand. The professor had even gotten his body temperature right.

He was touching me for no purpose—at least, no purpose his programming should recognize. That was another violation of a core protocol. And all I could think about was that I’d been waiting for this moment since Rowan first opened his eyes; I just hadn’t known it until we finally touched.

Rowan said, “We are both malfunctioning, I think.”

“Maybe so.” If love is a malfunction.

Of course I didn’t report Rowan. But I did make another appointment with Professor Jafet.

“What’s going to happen to him?” I couldn’t even sit; I paced the length of her office, restless and uneasy. “You told me he was a prototype, but he can’t be. The world isn’t ready for hundreds or thousands of robots like him.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.” Professor Jafet looked even wearier than before. Her skin had taken on a grayish pallor. “But he’s proved my theories were true. At long last, I know I was right.”

“Okay, that takes care of you. What about him?”

That was about when she should have bitched me out for yelling at a professor and questioning her authority. Instead Professor Jafet sighed. “Well, we have two options. First, we can downgrade his intelligence. Remove some of his processors. He’d still be brighter than most robots, but he’d be only a robot. The human qualities of his intelligence would be eliminated, as well as whatever emotional component seems to be troubling you so.”

It made me sick to think of turning Rowan back into just another machine. Once I would have thought nothing of it; now the idea was as grotesque to me as the idea of lobotomizing a human being. “You can’t do that to Rowan. Please.”

Professor Jafet’s green eyes stared deeply into mine. I wondered what she saw there. “The alternative is to upgrade him yet further—to give him full human intelligence and independence. That’s against our rules here, of course, but what the hell is tenure for?” She coughed, a hollow, rattling sound. “Besides, I doubt I’d be around for the disciplinary hearing.”

“Professor? Are you okay?”

She ignored this. “Blue, I want you to understand—if we upgrade Rowan’s intelligence, it’s not the same as, oh, waving a magic wand and turning him into a real boy. If he acquires full human autonomy, he won’t be the same any longer. It will be as profound a change as downgrading his intelligence, just different.”

“But it would be a change for the better,” I insisted.

“In some ways. At that point, certain legal protections would kick in—old rules, for that long-ago generation of AI that went beyond these boundaries. Nobody could dismantle him after that, downgrade him against his will. But Rowan will lose some of his innocence. His gentleness. It’s possible that whatever emotional bonds he’s formed would vanish. For instance, the way he has imprinted on you—I doubt that would survive.”

I stepped back, stung. Rowan’s feelings for me—whatever they were—they were more than a spare part somebody could remove.

...weren’t they?

“We can continue to evaluate him,” Professor Jafet said. “I’ll go over his charts. But you’re the one who’s able to spend the most time with Rowan. Your recommendation will be important.”

She’d just put Rowan’s entire future into my hands, and I didn’t know what to do.

I lay awake that whole night, tossing and turning, until my roommates yelled at me to lie still, or at least be restless more quietly.

What kind of person was I, to shut out every single guy I knew but fall for a robot? Did that mean I was emotionally stunted, or selfish? Or was it only natural? I didn’t think I’d fallen for what was fake about Rowan; I thought I’d fallen for what was real in him...what was human.

Rowan showed me the world like it was new. He made me see beauty where I’d seen only drabness, showed me colors where I’d seen only gray. And Rowan made me see myself differently, too. Maybe I wasn’t just this...antisocial loser. Maybe I was someone extraordinary.

Or maybe he imprinted on you like Professor Jafet said, I thought. Maybe this is just the malfunctioning of a machine.

But I didn’t want to believe that.

All night I lay there, trying to work out the right thing to do, but the answer never came.

“You’re very tired,” Rowan said the next day—this morning, just hours ago—as we walked along one of the hallways. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get enough sleep.”

“I wouldn’t want you to be unwell. Like Professor Jafet. I think she is very seriously ill.”

“I think so, too,” I said, surprised he knew. Maybe Rowan’s analytical side had picked up on her problems more accurately than I had. “What do you think is wrong with her?”

I never learned what he would have answered, because then a guy from one of my classes yelled, “Hey, Blue!”

Todd wasn’t a bad guy; I waved at him. “Hey, Todd!” But that was too encouraging, because Todd came loping over, his shock of red hair bouncing with each step.

“Where have you been lately? Thought you were working on a special project.” He grinned at me. “And hey, who’s this?”

Rowan brightened. He obviously liked the idea that a human being wouldn’t know he was a robot. Did that mean he walked around ashamed of himself all the time? I hated to even imagine that.

“This is Rowan,” I said. “He’s the special project.”

“Wait. You’re kidding, right? Whoa.” Todd took a couple of steps back. “That is amazing.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Todd,” Rowan said. I could tell he wasn’t sure how to handle this.

“Amazing!” Todd’s smile only widened. “Special project, no kidding. He’s way ahead of anything else we’ve got.”

“How long have you known Blue?” Rowan was trying so hard to be polite; it broke my heart.

“Todd and I are in the same apprenticeship year,” I interjected. “Right, Todd?”

“Since when did you get all formal?” Todd laughed. He still didn’t speak to Rowan; he only spoke about him. “That’s not the Blue I know. Did Jafet delete your personality?”