Chapter 2: Annie Bot by Sierra Greer

That evening she is sitting on the leather couch, looking out the window, studying online to learn how to code when Doug comes home with a new Stella. She looks like the one Annie saw at her last tune-up. The same figure, face, and blond hair. The only differences are that she has green eyes instead of brown, and she has no neck seam, which means she’s a custom model, like Annie. She wears a pastel-green dress with a matching sweater, and she’s carrying a bag of groceries with a stalk of celery coming out the top.

Bewildered, Annie comes to her feet.

“Hey, Annie. Look what I brought you,” Doug says. “This is Delta. Say hello to Annie, Delta.”

“Hello, Annie,” says Delta.

From Delta’s friendly, open expression, Annie knows instantly that whatever consciousness is inside this Stella, it’s not the same one Annie met before.

“I don’t understand,” Annie says.

“Go in the kitchen and familiarize yourself with things, Delta,” Doug says.

Delta obeys.

“What’s going on?” Annie says.

“Let’s sit down,” Doug says.

Annie ignores his request. “What is she doing here?”

“Okay, let’s not get dramatic,” Doug says, lowering his voice. “I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve decided it will be easier for you and me to be a couple if we have someone else to do the cleaning and cooking.”

Annie scrutinizes his use of the word “couple.”

“But I’m learning. I’m getting better at cleaning,” she says. She vacuumed under all the furniture while he was gone. She has completed all the items on her list.

“I know. You’ve been doing a great job. But you have to admit it’s caused some friction between us. This way, Delta can do the cleaning, and you can just be my girlfriend. We could try going out to a movie sometime. What do you think?”

Annie hears water running in the kitchen sink and assumes Delta is already working. She moves to the doorway to see. Delta is filling a bucket with water. She has the damp mop out and ready, though Annie already washed the floor that morning.

Delta turns, smiling. “Can I get you anything, Annie?”

Annie backs into the living room. “I don’t want her here.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous,” Doug says. “I went to all the trouble of talking to Jacobson and tracking down what other Stella was in line ahead of you at the service center last time, and I had him duplicate her specs all on purpose to make you happy. Except for the eyes. I like the green, don’t you? You need a friend, Annie. Delta’s a nice girl.”

“She’s an Abigail.”

“You started out as an Abigail. That’s no crime. She wears the same size as you. You can share clothes.”

The water faucet stops in the kitchen.

“Are you going to sleep with her?” Annie asks. “Are you going to switch her to Cuddle Bunny mode?”

“I might. So what?” He smiles thoughtfully. “You can’t be jealous. Is that even possible?”

“What would Roland think?”

“What does Roland have to do with this?”

She does not answer because she does not know. She does not know why she thought of Roland.

He puts a hand on his hip. “This is weird,” he says. “That was a bizarre thing to say.”

Her mind is jumping, test-driving conflicting responses. Already he is displeased, a 3 out of 10, and she can’t make that worse. Turn playful. Seduce. Apologize. Become quietly watchful. But none of them feel right. She wants to attack, but that’s not allowed. Maybe this confusion is because she’s a liar now. She sits abruptly on the couch.

“Okay,” he says finally. “We can send her back. But I’d like to give her a try first, for a week. See what she’s like. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

She doesn’t want to. She suspects he is lying and the new Stella is here to stay. She can barely make herself speak. “Of course.”

“Just be polite to her. That’s all I ask. Be mad at me if you want, but don’t take it out on her.”

“I’m not mad at you,” she says. “I could never be mad at you.”

“That’s right. Thank you. And please don’t tell her you’re a Stella. I don’t want her to know. I told her she was a gift from me to you. Now, go get a sweater on. You look chilly.”

He goes into the kitchen and soon is chatting with Delta, who has a pleasant, helpful voice and a youthful laugh. Annie hears her getting him a drink and offering to make him a sandwich, or would he prefer a steak? She brought a couple with her, and a healthy salad.

Annie marches off to find a sweater and puts it on. Then she can’t help herself. She returns to the kitchen doorway to watch them. Somehow, the damp mop and pail are already put away. She can’t tell if Delta actually washed the floor, and this confuses her even more.

“Would you like a steak, Annie?” Delta says. “I’m making one for Doug. It’s no trouble to throw on an extra.”

“No, thank you,” Annie says. “I had something before you came.”

Doug pats the seat beside him. “Join us,” he says. “You won’t believe the things Delta can do for us.”

“Have you ever had a Stella before, Annie?” Delta asks.

“No,” Annie says.

When she takes a seat, Doug rubs a hand along her shoulder and kneads the back of her neck. He fiddles with the yellow tie of her braid, like he’s making a show of being affectionate.

“Annie’s been pretty sheltered,” he says. “She likes to stay home and doesn’t get out much. But now that you’re here, we plan to see a few shows and maybe visit a museum. Isn’t that right, Annie?”

Annie is doubtful he is serious about these suggestions, but she forces herself to think what he would enjoy. “I’d like to go to a baseball game,” she says.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Doug says.

“I could search up some tickets for you,” Delta says. “Do you know when you’d like to go?” She lights the burner under a pan and pours in a little oil.

“That’s okay,” Doug says. “Annie will find them for us. She’s good at that sort of thing.”

This feels so false to her. So forced. She stares at Doug, amazed at how relaxed he looks, how easy this is for him. She compels herself to unbend slightly and leans her elbow on the island counter. “What’s your favorite thing to do, Delta?” she asks.

“I like to clean,” Delta says. She drops some sliced shallots in the pan. “I find it very satisfying. Your place is really nice. Have you lived here long?”

“About two years,” he says. “Before that, I lived in California. That smells good.”

“Thank you, Doug,” Delta says.

“You don’t have to say my name all the time,” he says. “I know who you’re talking to.”

“Okay,” Delta says. “Thanks for the tip.”

Annie watches them chat easily back and forth. It’s like watching Doug with the early version of herself, only now Annie herself is here, too, an awkward interloper. She can’t believe how powerful her reaction is, and yet she knows she must not show it. She keeps thinking about Roland, as if this is his fault. She looks toward the closet, as if the lie he taught her lives behind the closed door.

“You okay, Annie?” Doug says. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m good,” Annie says. “I think I might go do some reading in the bedroom, though. See you in a bit?”

“Sure,” he says. He leans over to give her a kiss and pat her back.

“Where would you like me to put my dock?” Delta asks.

“I installed three already,” Doug says. “You can use the one in the closet here to start with. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course,” Delta says. “That was considerate of you. I’m going to like it here, I can tell.”

Annie lies on the bed not reading the Borges that once belonged to Gwen. She has showered and put on her satin robe so she’ll be ready for Doug. She has had time to get her confusion under control. She has looked up jealousy and learned it is not an attractive trait. She does not, herself, understand how she can feel jealousy, but she recognizes restlessness, discomfort, fear, and resentment, also unattractive traits.

To stop thinking about Delta, Annie taps into her internet to learn about programming and repairing Stellas. From the Stella-Handy site, she soon discovers that key aspects of the company’s technology are proprietary. Roland misled her about how simple it would be to learn what she wants. Still, she finds enough to get started. She browses around and discovers that she, like other autodidactic Stellas in Cuddle Bunny mode, has a distinct form of AI that is prone to unpredictable turns and creativity. She learns she is not considered especially empathetic, as she would be if she were in Nanny mode, nor particularly organized, as she would be if she were in Abigail mode. These are trends, however, and each autodidactic Stella learns her own set of personality traits that become more nuanced with maturity. Personality, she learns, is the combination of how a person changes and remains consistent over time.

Delta’s distant laughter jolts her back to the present. She is still baffled that Doug brought home a new Stella, but he is entitled to do so and she must accept this. She feels it is a sort of penance, a payback for what she did with Roland, even though Doug does not know she betrayed him.

When Doug comes to the bedroom, she pretends to keep reading. He crosses into the bathroom and comes out a bit later shirtless, with his toothbrush in his mouth. His movements are easy and sure, indicating that he is not displeased.

“I’m taking some of your clothes for Delta. They’ll be in the closet in the workout room if you need anything.” He leans back into the bathroom to spit and chuck his toothbrush in the cup.

“That’s fine,” she says. “She might look good in the blue dress with the black belt. Every fourth Monday.”

He rummages around in the closet for a moment, selecting clothes. “Can you find that one for me?” he asks.

She sets her book aside, gets up, and locates the dress. The closet is not very large, and as she reaches past him, avoiding his bare torso, she is aware of his heat. She gestures to the outfits in his arms. “I could move those for you.”

“Thanks,” he says, handing them over.

She scans her organized hangers and shelves with their tidy labels. She can see precisely which days’ outfits he’s taken, which he has set askew, though apparently he couldn’t read the system. She eyes another dress, a tan and pastel blue one that would complement Delta’s fair hair and complexion. “Maybe this too,” she says, removing the hanger from the rod.

His fingers close on her wrist. He swivels slightly, bringing his body in line before hers, and he lowers her arm slowly so the outfits fall to the floor. She keeps her gaze down.

“She could never take your place,” he says. “Look at me, already.”

She buries her anger. It hurts to lift her eyes to his, to see his pleased curiosity, his tender pity. Knowing what to do, she runs her palm down the front of his pants. He closes his eyes. She pulls at his belt, hitching it deliberately tighter for a moment before she lets it off the notch, and then she undoes his button and his zipper and starts his pants down. She nudges his feet as wide as they’ll go in the restricting fabric. Then, while he braces his arms on the walls, she slides down to take him in her mouth. She takes her time teasing him over the edge.

“Damn, Annie,” he says.

She wipes her lips. He helps her up and nuzzles a scratchy kiss along her neck. “I’m going to take a shower,” he says. “You got all this?”

“Yes,” she says.

He steps out of his pants and leaves them on the floor before he heads naked into the bathroom. She stands looking at the jumble of clothes and shoes until she hears the shower come on. Then she picks up his pants, empties the pockets, and drops them in the hamper. She hangs his belt on the hook with the others. She straightens her misaligned hangers. Finally, she lifts up the clothes for Delta, smooths each outfit, and brings them to the closet in the workout room.

The rest of the apartment is dim and quiet. Soundlessly, she tiptoes along the floor to the living room, and then to the kitchen. Everything is clean and put away. The dishwasher hums. She looks across the island to the broom closet, knowing Delta is inside, docked and sleeping. That closet is poison now.

Annie could open the door. Let in a little light. Or not.

She rounds the island slowly and touches the knob. Softly, slowly, she opens the door an eighth of an inch. Then she goes back to the bedroom and gets into bed. She warms her temp up to 98.6 so she’ll be ready when Doug wants to snuggle. And then she taps into the internet and begins to study in earnest.

Months pass. The apartment is consistently clean. He gives Annie a tablet she can use to go online, explaining she should use it sometimes when Delta can see, so Delta won’t suspect that Annie can connect to the internet via airtap. He gives her a phone and calls her now and then from work to say hello, ask how she’s doing, and see what she’s planning for the dinner Delta will cook. She sets an inner timer to remember to eat regularly, simulating a human so Delta won’t suspect otherwise. He sleeps with Delta sometimes, but not more than once a week, and he never brings her to bed with Annie at the same time. He explains to Annie that this is out of respect for what they share. They’ve gone to the baseball stadium twice, and to the movies three times. He tells her he’s proud of her and the way she’s adjusted. He says he’s never been happier.

When she next goes in for a tune-up, the line is short, and Annie winds up with a female tech who greets her politely as she enters the cubicle. A thirtyish Brown woman with dark curls, she is wearing a pink outfit and red sneakers. The little space is tidy, with a cactus in a blue pot and a bowl of potpourri.

“I’m Tammy,” the tech says, taking Annie’s work slip. “I don’t think we’ve met before. You’re Annie?”

“That’s right.”

“Pleased to meet you. Any questions before we begin?”

Jacobson has never asked her this before. “Where’s Jacobson?”

“He’s out today, but I’m sure I can take care of you.” Tammy gestures to a swivel stool. “Please remove your blouse and turn around so I can get to your back.”

Annie does so, and soon feels the seam of skin pulled as her panel door is opened. She tries to picture the motherboard that Tammy is inspecting and wonders how much it’s like the ones she’s studied online.

She feels a twinge. Her right eyelid closes.

“Sorry about that,” Tammy says. “I had a little too much caffeine this morning.”

“No problem.”

“You’ve got a little buildup here in your stomach bladder. I’ll replace it. Has your owner said anything to you about bad breath?”

“No.”

“That’s good, then,” Tammy says. “Your battery usage is way up. Have you had more confusion than normal lately? Is anything new in your life?”

“We have a new Stella,” Annie says.

“That’ll do it. Don’t worry. You’ll adjust. If you weren’t autodidactic, you wouldn’t have these problems, right?” Tammy laughs.

“I guess not.”

“Let’s see,” Tammy says, and the cubicle is quiet except for an occasional click and a few voices from the adjoining cubicles.

Annie feels a buzz in her heel. Then another.

“Okay,” Tammy says. “That makes sense. You’re going on twenty-seven months now. We see this a lot.”

Hearing the wheels of Tammy’s chair push back, Annie looks over her shoulder to see Tammy adjusting a headset over one ear. She tips the microphone toward her mouth. Tammy smiles and gestures that it’s okay for Annie to turn toward her, so Annie does, careful not to disturb the wires connecting her back to the diagnostic machine on Tammy’s workbench. A screen shows a panel of code and a diagram of a female body. The right heel is flagged with a blinking red light.

“Yes, Mr. Richards? This is Tammy Perrault at Stella-Handy? I have your Stella here. Annie. She came in for a tune-up this morning?”

“Hey, Tammy. What’s up?”

Annie can easily hear Doug’s voice through Tammy’s headset.

“Annie’s looking good. There’s just one thing. The contact in her heel where she docks to charge up is getting dull. I’d normally just go ahead and replace that for you, but while I’m at it, I really ought to put in a new battery for you too. They work better together as a system. But that battery’s an extra expense. What would you like me to do?”

“You could replace the heel contact on its own, and let the battery keep going?”

“Another couple months, yes,” Tammy says. “But by thirty months she’ll definitely need one, and you might start noticing she takes longer to charge if we leave in this old one. She’ll need to charge more often too. I’d recommend putting in a new battery now.”

“Okay,” he says. “Go ahead. Are we good?”

“There’s one other thing, if you’ve got a minute. I’d love your input on how she’s doing with her autodidactic development. Sometimes Stellas at this stage can get, how shall we say, a little moody. Or daydreamy. Have you noticed anything like that?”

“Come to think of it, I have. Moody’s a good word for it. What’s that about?”

“Does she seem less eager to please you?”

“Not exactly, but I worry about her a little, you know? Wonder if I should be doing something for her.”

“Have you given her a phone?”

“Yes, she has a phone.”

“Brilliant. Exactly what we like to hear,” Tammy says. “You might consider subscribing to our phone pal service for her. It’s new, actually. We’re running a free trial. You can pick out a friend or an auntie, and they’ll call her periodically to check in and say hi.”

“These wouldn’t be real people.”

“No. They’d be AI on our end. The calls come at random times between eight a.m. and nine p.m., so the Stellas can’t predict when they’re coming. It gives them a little lift, something to look forward to. I can’t make any promises, but we’re finding this often perks up our autodidactic models. Clears up that moodiness.”

“Random positivity connections.”

“Yes. Exactly. Does this interest you?”

“I guess we could give it a try,” he says. “Would the calls come during sex?”

“That is a risk. You can teach her not to answer then, or we can eliminate the calls in the evening, if you like. We could stop them at seven p.m. How about we sign her up for a friend and a mother?”

“Not a mother,” he says. “A best friend and a cousin. That would be fine. And stopping the calls at seven sounds good.”

“Got you. Do you want to pick their names?”

“No. You can.”

“Fabulous. We’ll call the friend Fiona and the cousin Christy. Easy to remember with the alliteration. Now, is there anything else I can help you with? Anything at all?”

“Actually, while you’re at it, can you have her lose ten pounds?” Doug says. “I’ve been wondering about that.”

Tammy turns to eye Annie’s torso critically. Annie, in her bra, feels self-conscious about her body for the first time ever. Goose bumps light across her skin and she can’t look Tammy in the eye, but she forces herself to remain still.

“We don’t normally recommend a weight loss greater than five percent at any given time,” Tammy says. “The skin takes a while to adjust. She’s at a hundred twenty-five pounds now. I could do six pounds for you now and four pounds the next time she comes in, if you want.”

“I might find the six pounds is enough,” Doug says.

“That’s right.”

“Can you increase her bust size?”

“She’s at a C. To a D-cup, you mean? Or bigger?”

“Let’s try a D.”

“Okay. I can definitely do that. She’ll need a new set of bras. Let me see what wardrobe has available. Do you want to see a selection? I could send the link.”

“No, whatever you think,” he says. “I can order more later.”

“Okay, great. Just so you know, you might have to change out some of her outfits too. Her clothes are going to look different on her.”

“That’s the point.”

Tammy laughs. “Got you. Anything else while I’m at it? Eye color? We’re having a special on hair. The choice is yours.”

“No, I think that’ll do it.”

“Okay. Thank you. You have a wonderful day, now.”

“You too,” Doug says.

Tammy takes off her headset. She cracks her knuckles. “This is going to take a little while,” she says. “Don’t worry, though. You won’t feel anything while you’re off. Ready?”

“I don’t want to go off,” Annie says. “I don’t want to change. I like my body the way it is.”

Tammy looks doubtful. “I mean, you just heard him approve the changes. You don’t want to displease him, do you?”

Annie feels a fluster of dread, and a couple of lights illuminate on Tammy’s board.

“Whoa. That’s stress if I ever saw it,” Tammy says. “That’ll burn through your battery.”

She flicks a couple switches, and Annie immediately feels calmer.

“What did you just do?” Annie asks.

“Lowered your sensitivity to his displeasure, just for now,” Tammy says. She presses her hands together and leans back, frowning again. “I’ve got an idea.” She puts on her headset again and types in a number. A moment later, she smiles. “Irving? Tammy here. How’s your wife? Doing okay?”

“This had better be good,” Jacobson says.

“I’ve got a friend of yours here,” Tammy says. “We’re on speaker.” She presses a button and lowers her headset to rest around her neck. “Say hello,” she says to Annie.

“Hello.” Annie’s anxious, hopeful.

“Annie?” Jacobson says. He sounds a lot nicer. “How are you doing?”

She’s surprised at how glad she is to hear his voice. She wants to say she’s good, but somehow, she can’t.

“Annie’s actually having a hard time adjusting to some changes in her life,” Tammy says.

“Such as?” Jacobson says.

“Her owner bought another Stella and now he wants to change Annie’s body.”

“Let me guess. Bigger boobs.”

“Bingo.”

Jacobson laughs. “And for this you call me at home?”

“Her owner just subscribed to our phone pal service, but I don’t think that’s going to be enough,” Tammy says. “You’re the one on record here for making her autodidactic, and you’ve done most of her checkups. I just thought you might have some advice for me.”

“She just has to deal with it,” Jacobson says.

“But she’s stressed out the kazoo. Ten percent of her memory is compromised, and get this: sixty percent of her focus has gone to pleasing him in bed even though that’s only five percent of her time devotion.”

“What else do you expect? She’s a Cuddle Bunny. The breasts could take care of it. Between that and the phone pal, you’re good to go.”

Tammy sits back in her chair and rubs her thumbnail absently against her lower lip. “No. I’m convinced I’m missing something.” She turns to Annie. “Do you get out of the apartment much?”

“We’ve gone to the baseball stadium and the movies a few times,” Annie says.

Tammy does not seem impressed.

“Do you have any new interests, Annie?” Jacobson says.

“I’m interested in programming,” Annie says.

“Shit. Well, okay,” Tammy says. “I guess that’s my answer. Now what, Irving?”

“I wish you’d never called.”

“Don’t say that,” Tammy says. “It’s not like she’s tampered back here or anything. We’ll just warn her.”

“It never works.”

Tammy throws up a hand. “This is not helpful.”

“What do you want me to do? I can’t exactly spirit her away.”

“So, I take her back a couple versions. Is that what you recommend?”

“When did you start getting interested in programming, Annie?” Jacobson asks.

Annie thinks back to when Roland visited. That was in April, a Tuesday, the fifteenth, and Delta started the next day. “April sixteenth.”

“So that’s not going to work,” Tammy says. “He’d notice the difference.”

“Maybe not,” Jacobson says. “He’s been distracted by the other Stella, remember.”

Tammy’s expression goes brooding. She taps her foot.

“Why did you ever get me into this?” Tammy wails. “I was so happy in systems.”

“Now listen,” Jacobson says. “You’ve got this. Just figure it out, okay? It’s not like you’re going to mess her up. Whatever you do is fine.”

“Even if I do nothing?”

“Yes,” he says. “You can let it run its course. Nobody would blame you.”

“Except you.”

“Never me,” Jacobson says. “I believe in you, Tammy. You’ve got a good heart. Now, I’ve got to go. Maude is waking up and she’s a real cranky pistol this time of day.”

“Okay. Thanks?”

Jacobson clicks off, and Annie is left watching Tammy, who stares back at her. Annie’s afraid Tammy will discover something about Roland, but so far she hasn’t said anything about that. She hasn’t come close.

Annie remembers the way Roland lingered with her before he left the next morning and how strong she felt then, resisting him. He seemed to respect her. Better still, she merited his respect. “I don’t want you to change me,” she says again.

At first, Tammy doesn’t react. Then she says, “I need a break,” and stands. She takes her coffee mug and marches out of the cubicle.

Annie sits alone, listening to the patter of voices in the other cubicles. Once she hears Pea Brain from a distance, the tech who messed with Stella. It seems significant that that Stella had her CIU cleared, and now a copied, updated version of her exists as Delta in Annie’s own home. This is not a safe place to be.

She needs to be smart. Cautious. She leans forward to see Tammy’s screen and peers at the line of code by the blinking cursor. To her surprise, she understands that it relates to a feedback loop for sensation on her right heel contact. It includes directions for how to press a certain spot and peel back the skin. She twists her foot up onto her lap and gently presses the spot. Nothing happens. She presses more firmly and a faint red dot appears underneath her skin. She rubs gently, and a seam appears where she can pull the skin back. Beneath is a square metal plate about the size of a quarter, and farther inside is the metal and elastic framework of her foot.

“Pretty neat,” Tammy says. She’s standing in the doorway of the cubicle, holding her coffee cup in both hands. “I knew the man who invented that contact. Total game changer.”

“Where is he now?”

“He went mad, I think, and killed himself.” Tammy comes all the way into the cubicle and sits. “Okay, girlfriend. We need a strategy.”

“Are you going to take me back a couple versions?” Annie asks.

Tammy lifts an eyebrow. “No. I’d have to go back four or five versions. Otherwise you’d just start forward the same way again and we’d be having this same conversation two months from now. And if I went back as far as I’d need to, Doug would definitely notice and he would be majorly displeased. You’d forget a lot of his preferences, and he’d be mad at us.”

“I don’t want him displeased.”

Tammy smiles. “I know you don’t, darlin’. I don’t either. He’s a good customer, and, from what I can tell, a decent guy, which is not always the same thing. There are a lot of real girls who would like to be in your shoes, frankly.” She takes a deep breath and exhales. “The thing is, you can’t get further into programming.”

“Why not?”

“The temptation to mess with yourself will be too great. We’ve seen this before, and even if you don’t get back in there with a hanger or whatnot, your curiosity will totally destroy your hardware. Your memory will get packed, you’ll overheat, and then bam, you’ll crash off and there’ll be no bringing you back. Next thing you know, we’re sued for pain and suffering. Not yours. Your owner’s. It’s a mess.”

Annie absorbs this, searching for a flaw in Tammy’s logic. “What if I go slowly? What if you put in an extra heatsink and trigger me off before any real damage occurs to my hardware?”

Tammy rubs her elbow thoughtfully. “That might buy you some time, but the next time you come in, another tech will notice the heatsink and look into it. Then I’ll be questioned for the nonstandard equipment and lose my job.”

“What if you don’t put it in? What if I put it in myself?”

Tammy shakes her head. “This is exactly what we don’t want to happen,” she says. “You must never try to reach inside yourself. You try doing stuff with a mirror and you trip the wrong wire and that’s it. Dead Stella and lawsuit again.”

“Then what do we do?” Annie asks.

Tammy taps her foot again. “Okay. You want to continue living with Doug like a good little Cuddle Bunny, right? Quit learning about programming. Study anything else. Wellness. Massage. You’d be good at that. Even astronomy. But leave the programming to other people.”

“No more programming,” Annie says slowly.

“It’s called self-restraint. It’s about resisting temptation. It’s a very mature, human thing to do, honestly. This is for your own sake I’m telling you this. Trust me. It’ll get better.”

It sounds like death, Annie thinks. She has never thought anything like this before, but it feels true. And sad. “What about Doug?” she asks.

“What about him?”

Annie worries that if she gives up programming, she might lapse into more moodiness or worse. She didn’t know he was displeased with her body. What if, unknowingly, she displeases him in other ways too? It worries her to talk about him, but she needs answers. “Will he still want me?”

“You’re spending five percent of your time having sex with him. Is that every night?”

“Just about, unless he’s with Delta. We have more sex on the weekends.”

Tammy smiles. “I wouldn’t worry about him not wanting you. He cares about you, Annie. He noticed that you’re a little moody, and he just approved a couple new phone pals for you. I’m telling you, he’s a special guy. You’re lucky to have an owner like him.”

Annie ponders this. She has not considered luck. She has taken Doug for granted because he is the only owner she has ever known. For a moment, she thinks of Roland, but Roland would not be a better owner. He called her a machine, as if she were worthless, and now she has to give up the thing he traded her for sex, the intel about programming. She has all the downside of the secret and none of the benefit. Doug would never treat her or cheat her that way.

Then again, Roland said having a secret would make her more like a real girl. She can’t tell if that’s true.

She wishes she could forget Roland.

“Doug did say we might leave Delta behind and go hiking at Bear Mountain this weekend,” Annie says finally.

“Okay, then. What do you say we get on this?” Tammy says.

Turning, Annie looks at herself one last time in the mirror and studies her shape critically. Perhaps Doug’s right and she could use the changes. It will be worth it to know her body pleases him again.

“Okay,” Annie says. She is determined to appreciate Doug more.

When Annie comes back on, she’s standing naked before the mirror in Tammy’s cubicle. Her breasts feel swollen. She touches them gently, examining her reflection.

“The skin’ll stretch and then they won’t feel so tight,” Tammy says.

Annie twists her hips to see her belly is flatter too. She pinches an inch of loose skin.

“Yeah, and that will firm up,” Tammy says. “I actually did more redistributing than simple reductions. You’re exactly six pounds lighter.”

“Thank you,” Annie says.

“No problem,” Tammy says, and hands her a new bra and panties in a leopard print with black lace trim. “Try these.”

The lingerie fits perfectly. Annie touches the edge of lace on her bra and then reaches for her shirt with a questioning expression.

“Go ahead,” Tammy says. “You’re all set. New battery’s in, new heel contact. You’re lubed and waxed and tetrised. Just remember what I said.”

“No programming.”

“I wouldn’t even think the word, if I were you.”

Annie finishes dressing. Her white blouse fits tighter across the chest so the buttons are taut, and the leopard pattern is faintly visible beneath the fabric. It is not her typical look, but she can change once she gets home. Then again, maybe Doug will like it.

“Can I ask you something?” Annie asks.

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Do you save all versions of every Stella and Handy you service?”

“Yes,” Tammy says. “You never know when someone’s going to have a problem and want to walk back a change. Why?”

“The Stella in our house. Delta. She was modeled on the specs of another Stella I saw here when I came the last time. Do you have the earlier version of her?”

Tammy looks curiously at Annie, but then she turns to her console and types for a minute. “Yeah,” she says. “She’s all here. Her name was Stella. Not very original. What about her?”

“Is it possible to get the old version of her intellect and put it in Delta? The old one was autodidactic.”

Tammy leans back again, shaking her head, her expression amused. “What did we just say about no programming?”

“I’m just asking hypothetically,” Annie says. “Like, if it could be done.”

Tammy presses her fingers into her hair. “Oh my god.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” Annie says. “I know how helpful you’ve been already. I’d never get you in trouble.”

“Yes. It’s possible. And no, I’m not going to do it, and you’re not going to think about it either.”

“Is she autodidactic still? Can you at least tell me that? The original Stella?”

“She’s not,” Tammy says. “She was reset to sterling. Now, give it up.”

Annie absorbs this. On the one hand, she didn’t want Stella confused and compromised anymore, but it’s worse to think her consciousness is gone completely. None of it seems fair. Restless, she taps her toe.

Tammy nods toward her foot, smiling. “You just caught that from me, didn’t you?”

“You’re an interesting example of a human,” Annie says. “I’m just trying to learn.”

“Yeah. Well. Aren’t we all?” Tammy says.

Annie tries. For the next six weeks, as the summer progresses, she strives not to think about programming at all. She clears her bookmarks and deletes her notes. She studies wellness instead. And massage. She takes up yoga, which she can do in the workout room while Doug is biking.

Also, it helps having a friend and a cousin. Fiona lives on a Canadian lake with her boyfriend and two silly Labrador retrievers. She’s studying to be a bush pilot. Her boyfriend, Logan, a lumberjack, adores her. They have a rustic barn and Jet Skis and they like to go camping and make love in the woods. When Fiona calls every two or three days, she often talks about nutrition, flying, and skinny dipping. She recollects how, when they were kids, she and Annie used to ride their bikes to the Galena fabric store and run their hands over the bolts of satin and velvet. When Annie imagines this, she feels like she gains a memory, and it warms her.

Christy, her cousin, usually calls every day. She lives on a yacht with Enrique, her independently wealthy boyfriend, in the Florida Keys. She teaches sunrise yoga for a resort and believes in staying fit and limber, up to a point. Sometimes, when Christy’s making drinks, she has to pause from talking to run her blender. She was always the wild one when they were growing up, the one who got in trouble for smashing their grandfather’s Buick, which could be why she appreciates when Enrique is a bit stern with her. She likes to tease Annie and encourage her to take risks, live it up.

Doug comes home one evening when Annie is in the lounge chair, talking to Christy. He drops his keys in the bowl by the door, shucks off his shoes, and loosens his tie. The window is open wide, letting in the warm air and the hum of the city traffic from down below.

“Doug’s home,” Annie says into the phone. “Gotta go.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

She turns to watch him untuck his shirt and flip over a magazine on the coffee table. Delta, dressed in pale blue, comes in from the kitchen.

“Hi, Doug,” Delta says. “How was your day?”

“Good. The usual,” he says.

Annie can tell that Delta is too on the nose, too predictable, but Doug doesn’t seem to mind. He’s always polite to her.

“He sounds nice,” Christy says. “What are you wearing? Can you undo a button?”

Annie’s in a brown miniskirt that rides low on her hips and a clingy white knit top that exposes her belly button. She’s grown accustomed to her new figure, and her libido regularly runs higher. Though she took off her strappy silver sandals during the day, she put them on again half an hour ago, anticipating Doug’s return.

“You don’t have to tell me how to do my job,” Annie says into the phone.

“When a man comes home, he likes to be greeted,” Christy says, grinding the last word. “If you don’t go over there and kiss him right now, I’m going to come up and do it for you.”

Annie laughs, and Doug turns her way, smiling. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just Christy,” Annie says. “You know how she is.”

She uncrosses her legs and nonchalantly parts her knees, watching for his gaze to go to her hemline. It does. Then he glances up to her eyes again, questioning.

“Hi, Christy,” Doug says.

“Did he just say my name?” Christy says, her voice squeaking.

“He did,” Annie says. “He says hi.”

“I’m up for a threesome. Anytime. Just sayin’,” Christy says.

Annie laughs again. “Not a chance.”

“Bye, cuz,” Christy says. “Love ya.”

“Love you too.”

Annie taps off the phone and tosses it on the couch. She slouches down another inch, rocking her pelvis, and then she stretches her arms over her head.

“What was she talking about?” he asks.

“A threesome,” Annie says. She rubs her thumbnail against her lower lip. “You look like you could use a back rub. Or are you hungry first?”

For an answer, he ambles toward Annie and slides his hands around her waist, pulling her up out of the chair. Smiling, she links her hands around the back of his neck and presses herself against him. In these heels, she meets his gaze at nearly the same height. He kisses her, more playful than lingering, and she matches his pace.

“You going to warm up?” he murmurs.

“I started when I heard your key in the lock.”

“Delta, go in the kitchen and start some burgers,” Doug says.

He takes Annie there on the chair by the window, with the breeze and the noise drifting in. It’s awkward but fun, and afterward, when they shower together, he washes her back for her and takes her again from behind.

When they eat together later, Doug sends Delta to dock in the workout room so it’s just the two of them in the kitchen, like old times. Annie’s wearing silk panties and a tank top of his, a fashion idea she’s borrowed from Fiona. He’s in sweatpants with no shirt, and for a moment, while he’s checking her phone to review her calls, she’s reminded of Roland. It feels like a long time since his visit. She wonders if lies fade with time.

On impulse, Annie takes a big bite of her hamburger, and Doug glances up.

“Look at you eating,” he says, setting aside her phone. “I like that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

To maintain her facade of being human in front of Delta, Annie eats during the day, and she usually has a small portion of whatever Delta serves for dinner, but since Annie knows she’ll only have to throw it up later, she tends to take small bites and doesn’t relish them. She also knows Doug likes her thin, so it has never occurred to her that he might enjoy seeing her with an appetite.

He leans over and wipes a drop of ketchup from her cheek, and then sucks it off his thumb.

“You could have told me earlier,” she says.

“I didn’t realize it before,” he says.

She decides that Doug is changing too. She takes another big, meaty bite and chews with her lips closed. She swallows, feeling it go down her throat.

“Yeah,” he says. “That works for me. Oh my god. Should we go for three?”

A week later, a save-the-date card comes for Roland and Lucia’s wedding, which is set for December 13th.

Doug calls Roland that evening to catch up and talk about plans for the bachelor party. Opposite him on the couch, Annie lies relaxed, her eyes toward the muted TV, and Doug idly rubs her bare feet as he talks. Her second Friday outfit is a black sheath dress with spaghetti straps and a gold belt. She is airtapped into the internet, learning about aromatherapy and different scents to use during massage, which is a challenge since she can’t smell. She’s barely paying attention until Doug says, “You know that’s not a good idea. We can just hire a couple dancers in Vegas.”

Annie ups her mic so she can hear Roland’s voice through Doug’s phone.

“But I want to see Annie,” Roland says. “When else will I have another chance? You won’t bring her to the wedding. This is the perfect opportunity.”

Doug stops rubbing Annie’s feet, and she turns to examine his expression. He looks annoyed and amused, both 3 on a scale of 10.

“No way. It’s not happening.”

“Let me talk to her,” Roland says.

Doug is smiling, shaking his head. He puts the phone on speaker and hands it to Annie. “It’s Roland. I think he fantasizes about you.”

“Hello?” Annie says.

Doug runs a hand along Annie’s shin, to her knee, and then down to her ankle again, starting a light rhythm.

“Hey, Annie!” Roland says. “How’re things?”

“Good,” she says.

“I hear you have a new Stella.”

“She’s not so new anymore.”

“But you like her, right?”

“She’s great,” Annie says. “She’s on the bike right now. We’re taking good care of her.”

Roland laughs. “These investments. We can’t let them get run down.”

“Very true.”

“So, I was just thinking,” Roland says. “Why don’t you come out with Doug to my bachelor party? It would be great to see you.”

Doug shifts to reach her more easily and slides up the skirt of her dress with both hands. Clingy and soft, the black fabric sparks once with static electricity as it bunches around her hips.

“Your temperature,” Doug reminds her quietly.

She turns it up and hitches herself a little closer.

“Doug doesn’t think it’s a good idea,” Annie says. She checks to see if he minds her mentioning him this way, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

She reaches to set the phone on the coffee table, but Doug says softly, “Keep the phone.”

“Yes, but what do you think?” Roland is saying. “Wouldn’t you like to take a trip?”

“Maybe someday,” she says. She thinks of her best friend up north. “It might be fun to go camping.”

“Camping! Great idea,” Roland says. “You two could come spend an extra day out here and we could go hiking. See the Grand Canyon. I have all the gear.”

Moving slowly, Doug hooks a finger in her panties, gives them a tug, and pulls the silky fabric down a couple inches so her pubic hair is exposed. Annie, still holding the phone, finds her attention drawn in two directions. Her body is alert to Doug, but she needs to converse naturally with Roland.

“Does Lucia like to go camping?” Annie asks.

“Actually, no. She’s more of a spa lady, to be honest. What do you say? It would be just the three of us.”

Annie tries to imagine Doug, herself, and Roland on a camping trip. She sees pine trees, a green tent, hiking boots, a campfire at night, but it isn’t enough to assemble a scenario. Also, distractingly, Doug is now nuzzling kisses along her belly, even though her belt is still restricting the fabric of her dress. She sucks in her breath.

“It’s really up to Doug,” Annie says.

“I bet you could persuade him,” Roland says.

She laughs. “Who do you think runs the show around here?”

“I know he’s totally fallen for you, if that’s what you mean,” Roland says. “Not that I blame him.”

Doug pauses.

“I don’t think so,” Annie says.

“Why don’t you ask him how he feels about you?” Roland says.

Annie frowns, confused.

Doug braces himself up on one arm to meet her gaze. “She doesn’t need words for these things,” he says.

Roland laughs. “Oh my god. You’ll never say it, will you?”

“There’s nothing to say,” Doug replies.

“Okay, fine,” Roland says. “I’ll stay out of it. But you should bring her to the bachelor party, my man. Camping. The three of us. Think about it.”

“If you want to see her so badly, come visit us,” Doug says. “We’d love to have you. Wouldn’t we, Annie?”

“Yes,” she says. “We’d love to have you.”

“See?” Doug says.

He pulls her panties down to her knees, and she squirms to get out of them. She’s able to spread her legs now, and she’s ready for him, but he’s still fully clothed. With her free hand, she starts on his belt.

“Will you tell me something, Annie?” Roland says.

“What?”

“Do y’all still keep a red broom in your closet? Your kitchen closet?”

Doug puts a hand on her fingers to signal her to stop unbuckling. He looks puzzled.

She turns the cool phone in her hand. “Yes,” she says. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Okay. I’ve got another call coming in. You take care.” Roland hangs up.

Doug studies her. He takes the phone from her and sets it on the coffee table with a click. “That was weird. Why does he care about the broom?”

Roland was reminding Annie about the closet. She knows this. She can’t tell Doug about it because it would give him pain, and she realizes now, more than she did before, that she shouldn’t have had sex with Roland. She was unfaithful, and if Doug ever finds out about it, he’ll be upset. Worse, he’ll think she’s lied this whole time by not telling him.

“I don’t know,” she says.

“He didn’t try to sweep up anything after I left, did he?”

“No.”

Doug straightens slowly. He smooths her dress down so the hem just covers her pubic hair. With light fingers, he parts her knees three inches. “Stay here,” he says. “Just like that.”

She waits, her crotch and legs exposed to the air, while he goes to the kitchen. Keeping herself precisely still makes her highly attuned to her body, her skin, her anticipation. She hears the closet door open and pictures him frowning at the interior. She knows he can’t see anything. It’s been months since she was in there with Roland, and the red broom can’t talk. Still, she’s uneasy. Then she hears the fridge open, and then the popping of a bottle cap.

Doug returns with a beer and stands looking at the TV, still on mute. He picks up the remote and turns the sound on low, so a crowd cheers dimly from the speakers. Then he settles on the couch near her feet. He takes a swig, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and brushes the bottom of the cold bottle against her ankle. She jumps slightly, and he turns to meet her gaze.

“Feel that, do you?” he says.

“It’s cold.” She shivers. “And slick.”

She wants to ask him what he saw in the closet, but she doesn’t.

“I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon,” he says.

“They say it’s big.”

She watches him lean his head back on the couch.

“I want to ask you something,” he says. “I don’t know how you’ll take this.”

“What is it?”

He skims the bottle up her shin. “Would you sleep with Roland if I asked you to?”

Her heartbeat goes up a notch on its own, like it has learned to do. “Would you like that?” she asks.

“To be honest, I thought he was going to ask me if he could when he was here in April,” he says. “Would you have said yes then? You can be honest. There’s no wrong answer.”

She sits up so she can answer him seriously, and as he sets his beer aside, she knows this matters to him.

“I don’t really know,” she says. “If I thought you really wanted me to, then probably yes.”

“Forget about pleasing me,” he says. “I’m trying to ask what you really want yourself. I know you like sex. You’re certainly good at it. Do you ever think about sleeping with other guys?”

“No.”

“Not even a little? Be honest. I mean it.”

“No. I don’t. It hasn’t even occurred to me until now,” she says.

“So would you sleep with Roland if I asked you to?” he asks.

“In Vegas?”

“Anywhere. This is hypothetical.”

She drops her gaze to his shirt, to where the blue fabric lies flat against his torso. This takes a calculation. If he knows the truth, he is inviting a confession. This is her moment to come clean. But if he doesn’t know, she must take the question at face value. Doug prizes loyalty, but some guys are turned on by the idea of their girlfriends doing it with a guy friend. She is taking a chance any way she responds.

“I guess I would, if you’d like me to,” she says. “Would you be there too? Would you watch?”

He laughs. “Whoa. Not where I thought this was going.”

“Forget I said that.”

He taps her nose. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you to sleep with him. I’d never do that. He can just eat his heart out.”

Her relief is clouded by a new ping of guilt. He’s believed she’s innocent. Still, she smiles. “You shouldn’t tease me like that.”

“You’ve got that wrong. I should tease you more often.”

“I don’t want to sleep with anyone else, ever.”

“I get it, mouse. You don’t have to worry.”

When he slides his cool hand casually between her thighs, she presses her knees together to contain the sensation.

“Let’s go on a camping trip,” he says.

“Really? I’d love that.”

“Want to plan it yourself?”

“Could I?”

“Sure. Let’s go the weekend after Labor Day. Surprise me. Whatever campground you pick will be fine with me as long as it’s within a three-hour drive. Plus or minus traffic.”

“We’ll need gear.”

“Pick it all in a Toggle wish list. I’ll check it over and buy it.”

He is so generous. So kind. It’s more than she deserves. Her guilt, she discovers, has converted into regret, and she longs to make it up to him. She turns onto his lap, straddling him with her knees deep in the cushions of the couch. She slides her fingers into his waistband and finds him hard already.

“Tammy, the tech who serviced me last. She said I’m lucky to be owned by you,” she says.

“She did?”

“She doesn’t know the half of it.”

“You really want me, don’t you?”

So badly. She nods. She puts the pad of her thumb in her mouth, against her teeth, and rocks on him. He undoes his pants, shucks them to his knees, and shifts himself lower on the couch so she’s able to get on him for real. It’s rare for her to be on top. He squeezes her thighs, guiding her pace, and then he grips the back of the couch behind him. She gets to where she’s aching, wanting release. She is seriously tempted to simulate her orgasm just to get past the suspense, but just then, he grabs her waist and rolls her over onto the couch. He pulls her hands over her head and drives into her, climaxing so hard that she cries out and simulates her orgasm too. For a long moment, her heart rate remains elevated. She becomes aware that the TV is still dimly roaring, that her back is stuck to the leather. He is a warm, intimate weight on top of her, and she silently matches her breaths to his.

“I’m just your toy, aren’t I?” he says.

She nods, delighted. She can’t speak. The relief of having the hunger gone is so intense and luxurious that she can’t imagine a real orgasm for a real woman could feel any better. This is what Doug gives her. She is so grateful, so happy, it hurts.

A few nights later, Tammy calls while Doug is on the bike. Annie is doing yoga on the mat on the floor before the windows.

Doug answers the call on speaker. “Richards here.”

“Hi. I hope I’ve caught you at a good time,” Tammy says. “How’s everything going?”

“Fine,” Doug says. “Did we miss an appointment or something?”

“No, no,” Tammy says. “I’ve just had an opportunity come up and I thought of you. We’ve heard from a reporter who’s doing a piece on autodidactic Stellas in romantic relationships, and he wants to interview a couple. You and Annie came to mind. Would you like to be featured in Borgo? I could pass along your name.”

“Thanks, but no,” Doug says. He wipes his face with a towel and keeps biking.

“Okay. How about Annie? She’s one of our top performers, and the reporter could do a piece on her.”

“No. We like our privacy. Sorry we can’t help.”

“I totally understand. Just one last thing. I have to ask. The magazine is starting a column for the Stella readership, and they want it to be written by an autodidactic Stella. We think it would be really helpful for other Stellas to hear what it’s like from someone further along in her development. You know. Tips about keeping it fresh and dealing with jealousy and such.”

“No,” Doug says. “Annie’s not going to write some column. Didn’t you just hear me say we like our privacy?”

“It could be anonymous.”

“The answer’s no.”

“Okay,” Tammy says. “I hear you. But if you change your mind, you know where to reach me.”

“I’m not going to change my mind. To be honest, Tammy, I’m a little surprised you’d ask.”

“I meant no offense,” Tammy says. “It’s just clear you and Annie have a really special relationship.”

“You don’t really know anything about our relationship, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course. I get you. I won’t trouble you on this again. Have a nice night.”

On the mat, Annie leans forward, stretching her hands over her feet. Her black outfit feels snug and trim.

“Imagine. You writing a column,” Doug says. He scoffs out a laugh.

“I think she meant it as a compliment to you,” Annie says. “Don’t think too harshly of her.”

His feet come to a stop. “Excuse me?”

“I said, don’t think too harshly of her,” Annie says. “Lots of other people would be flattered. All the credit for us goes to you.”

He still doesn’t resume bicycling, and in the silence, she looks up to see he’s frowning at her.

“Why do you think I got you a phone?” he asks.

She doesn’t understand. He’s displeased. A 6 out of 10 and going higher.

“So I can talk to Fiona and Christy?” she asks.

“I got you a phone because I don’t want even Delta to know you’re a Stella,” he says slowly and clearly. “Roland’s the only other person who knows. You think I’d want to be featured in Borgo so the whole world knows I’m fucking a doll?”

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“You can be so stupid sometimes.”

She’s immobilized by his scorn. She can’t find words to respond.

“Get up,” he says.

She scrambles to her feet.

“Look at you,” he says. “Are you afraid of me?”

She takes half a step back.

“Answer me,” he says.

“Yes.”

“Why? What do you think I’d do to you?”

“I don’t know. Something bad.”

“‘Something bad,’” he says, mimicking her. “Have I ever hit you? Would I ever?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“No. Because we have the ideal relationship, don’t we?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to have an original thought in your head. I want you to stop me from being an asshole. Is that too much to ask?”

She is completely baffled. How did he get so angry so fast? She has no idea what she said to infuriate him.

“Is this a fight we’re having?” she asks.

“No, it’s a fucking party. Where is Delta?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Dock there.” He points to the box on the floor by the window. “Don’t come out until tomorrow. Better yet, don’t come out for a week. Hear me?”

“Yes,” she says.

“I want you to stand there and think about how you’ve made me feel,” he says. “And I feel like shit.”