SAD ROBOT: an autobiography of my unfortunate existence

41. ANGELICA

41. ANGELICA 

The scanner blinks blue and instantly, the humanoid comes to life, her body slightly twitching at the onset of a sudden power source. Milo pulls his hand back, surprised.

She speaks with a very convincing human female voice, no sense of mechanical-ism at all. Frightening. If he didnʼt know better, she could be the voice of an on-air radio host or, more accurately, one of those girls you end up talking to when you decide to call one of those phone-sex lines, just out of curiosity, of course. Her voice was soft, sultry. They definitely got it right, but is having a voice like that on a female robot really the best idea? It practically invites a barrage of a whole lot of bad ideas from the average male brain.

"Please insert owner information by data chip," is what she says next.

This was a bit more complicated than what Milo went through with Hiram. Unlike when he was new—well, new to Milo, since Hiram had to have had his brain wiped before Milo could take him over since he was purchased as previously used—Milo is now required to give the robot a necessary amount of data to begin with, such as his full name, presented via identification for instant facial recognition, home address, and so on.

Milo sets the manual down and finds what he is looking for in one of the drawers at his desk. Itʼs the only data chip in there, so he presses it against the robotʼs scanner and it beeps with a note of recognition.

"Thank you, Milo," the robot girl says. Hearing her say his name was....enchanting. 

She then spoke back to him all of the details she had read off the chip—his name, birthdate, everything else on his identification card, address, marital status, etcetera. "Yes, thatʼs all correct."

"Excellent. Now please state your chosen name."

A name. Milo was so enamored by the thing that he never thought about choosing her a name. Well, geez, he had no idea. He just knew it had to be perfect—the perfect name for this perfect robot girl. He knew he was bad at making decisions, is bad at making decisions, rather, and even very simple ones. But this wasnʼt like choosing a name for your cat, where a name like Sir Mittens would more than suffice.

No, it had to be the right one.

"Search common female names," Milo says aloud to the television screen and it flips to a search engine to query all results.

There were many. So he started at the beginning of the alphabet and worked his way down.

Anna...Andrea...Anastasia?

Milo looks at her, testing out a few of the names in his head. Not quite.

Angel...Angela...Angelica...

He stops, looks at her again. Feels the syllables slip from his lips a few times. 

"Angelica. Yeah."

That was the one. A form of the word ʻangelicʼ; exactly like what she is. 

Milo steps closer to her to confirm the name.

"Angelica," he announces.

"Is that spelled A-N-G-E-L-I-C-A?" 

"Yes."

"Given name, Angelica. Please wait a moment for initial system start-up."

Her eyes close and somewhere inside her, silent software is running, booting up her system, punching it into awake mode, readying all the computing power she has available.

Milo canʼt recall ever feeling this level of excitement before. It is like meeting a celebrity youʼve always wanted to speak to, even though you know that youʼll get all nervous and sweaty and botch it up nicely, making yourself look like an unintelligent scatterbrain.

He watches her—Angelica—as she stands there, eyes closed, right in front of him, and he feels like he is somehow intruding in her personal space. Like she is a real person standing there, maybe just lost in thought, and if he gets too close, sheʼs going to snap alert and tell him to get away, you creep.

She jumps to life, her brilliant blue eyes shifting to meet Miloʼs own.

"Hello, Milo," she says pleasantly, "My name is Angelica. I am happy to meet you."

She even holds out her hand, to which he manages to politely shake despite being caught off-guard by the striking nature of her presence.

"Itʼs a pleasure," Milo responds.

They stare at one another. He is not exactly sure what to do here. One could call it an awkward silence, but surely robots donʼt experience any sense of awkwardness in interaction. When they donʼt have anything to say, they just donʼt say anything. It isnʼt awkward, and it isnʼt uncomfortable; silence is just in their nature. They speak when they see something worth speaking about, or speak once they are spoken to.

"Are we currently in our place of residence?" she asks as if reading his mind. 

"Yes."

Her eyes flit around the room.

"It is very nice." Well-mannered too. No sarcasm that he can detect. Finally, he might not have to put up with snarky robots making ill-timed attempts at humor. Good riddance.

"Are there any other members of the household?"

"Nope, itʼs just me," he says, excluding Hiram. But he is just another robot, he doesnʼt count. Right?

For the first time, Milo thinks about Hiram and Angelica interacting. How do two robot meet? How do they interact with each other? Do robots act differently towards other robots? He has no idea!

"Do you like it here?"

"Yeah, itʼs a nice apartment. You donʼt meet many people here, but I prefer to keep to myself usually."

She looks up at Milo with those kind eyes. 

"Does being lonely make you sad?"

"Who said anything about—No. Well. I guess. Maybe."

He was caught off guard. Was it that obvious? Could one practically smell the lonesomeness reeking out of the apartment? Was it all over him? In his hair, on his clothes?

"What else makes you sad?"

"Is this how you learn stuff about me?"

"Yes. I try to learn everything about you. Your hobbies, interests, and feelings, all through observation and casual conversation."

It wouldnʼt take her very long to know everything about him, Milo surmised. She is the smartest intellectual being on the market. Sheʼll have every single aspect and nuance of his personality and daily life catalogued and analyzed to the point where she will know him better than even he knew myself. Even better than Hiram knew him. It was almost too intimidating, too unnerving, but all the same, incredibly breathtaking.