“I just asked if I could get a sneaky second serving for a friend,” Sao said, laughing and nearly spilling coffee on his silky sportcoat. “There must have been over a hundred paper cups back there, so the shopkeeper said it was no trouble at all. A nice guy, very personable, happy to accommodate.”

Rai nursed his second cup of coffee.

“I’ve found all the businesses here really chose their best for the expo. People and product.” Sao attempted raise his own cup and almost splashed himself again.

“Do you need to sit down for that,” Rai said drily.

“Nope, I’ve got it - just gotta shift things around.” Sao managed a small, shaky sip before needing to readjust. Rai felt more sorry for the teetering cup, its precious contents liable to spill at any second. The struggle was entirely due to the two bulging canvas bags hanging from each of Sao’s arms, packed with chocolate-coated fruit (including some conspicuously unbruised strawberries), juice samplers, tiny sponge cakes, a bundle of colorful licorice, and a box of what looked like candied eggs with leafy stems. And that was just what Rai saw poking from the surface of the load.

“Got it.” Sao said, making another attempt to haul his cup to his lips. Rai had to rescue a tube of jellybeans that fell from the straining carrier. “Thanks. I should rethink this.” Sao sighed, without commitment, and quickly brightened again. “What a coincidence, running into you here, though.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Though I if I were to find you anywhere, it would be that stall, right? This coffee is delicious - you could smell it a smile away. Anyone would want seconds, or thirds.”

Sao managed his fourth tiny sip. Rai crushed his own emptied cup and placed it on another overflowing trash can. “I was in the mood.”

“With taste this smooth, who wouldn’t be? You know well enough, I’m more devout of tea than coffee, but this could be make a convert out of me soon enough.”

One of his canvas bags ground itself against the back of a stall freezer. Rai grit his teeth and offered to carry one.

Sao was mortified. “I’m not going to ask my work supervisor to drag around my belongings on a weekend. They aren’t even heavy.” He raised his arms as proof, and Rai’s eyes bulged as the cup tipped in the process. 

“Consider it payback for the coffee. For now.” Rai said, holding an arm out to block the path before Sao could protest, or incur even worse. “I’ll still give you back the money when your hands are free.”

Now freely sipping his coffee, Sao raised a smooth brow. “Thanks. What’s this about money?”

“For the coffee.”

“Which - oh, your coffee? Don’t worry about it, the barista gave me the second one on the house. Can you believe that? Great guy, like I said, happy to accommodate.”

“Did you say you were with the police?”

“Why would I have done that?”

Rai decided it was time for some silence, which allowed Sao to finish his coffee, proclaim it a true work of art to anyone in earshot, and begin the search for a place to throw away the cup. It took a while to even spot a trash can, and the one they found resembled a small mountain, caked in slush and wastepaper. Sao regarded the pile with such sublime sadness that an angel in the form of the nearest shopkeeper came to him, and raised a plastic bin from behind her stall for him to use.

Sao pulled a smile had her caged and chirping, and he seemed happy to loiter for a few chirps of his own. 

Rai grumbled and did his best to disappear into his jacket.

“Sorry to make you hold onto that so long. I can handle it from here,” Sao said, returning for his bag of goodies. He was chewing on some sort of powdery confection.

“You have a sweet tooth, huh?” Rai peered at the shopkeeper he’d been talking to, who was chopping up square of white spun-sugar candies. “Got a lot in the bag, too.”

“Oh, that’s just what I got from this half of the marketplace. I walked the side by the entrance first, picked up a lot of cured meats up there, some exotic shrimp, frozen crab cakes...” Sao smiled at the skylights, floating on dreams of baked and fried shellfish. “A little excessive for one person, maybe, but I can’t say no when they’re handing such wonderful packages out for free.”

“For free,” Rai repeated, trying to recall if such offers really existed for the front stalls. It had not been true for the coffee, but sometimes, when it was Sao gracing a storefront, the rules of the world bent and melted beyond Rai’s logical recognition. It could be unfairly infuriating. Especially if it was a spineless, easily dazzled young man or woman tending the register.

“I couldn’t carry it all around - wouldn’t have been good for the food that should be refrigerated - so I left a few bags in the cooler by the tech showcase area.”

“You can just use the showcase stuff?”

“The coolers belong to an acquaintance. His company in fact. It will be fine. And I have to thank you again, in a way. A lot of the treasures I found came in my search for this legendary snow meat you’re always recommending.”

“Snow frog? Well, they might be categorized as mushrooms instead...”

“I recall you saying as much. I didn’t find any, in the veg or meat stalls, though. One old-timer knew what I was talking about, oh he had some mouthwatering things to say, but at the end - they weren’t in season. A bit of a disappointment.”

“Well. You know now that I didn’t just make them up.”

Sao laughed. “Yes. I should have known better than to doubt you.”

“I don’t think they’d come free, either.”

“You never know.”

Rai snorted, but gave just a slight twitch of a smile. It twitched right off again when a shuddering crash rang out from the direction of the doomed abalone stand. He turned in time to see two canopies go down, then another, and another, like dominoes.

“I hope they’re alright,” Sao said.

“Sounds like they are.”

Sao gazed over the marketplace. “You can probably get some freebies if you hop over and offer to help. I got some strawberries that way, when that table collapsed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

In the corner of his eye, Rai saw Sao struggle to draw his phone out of his pocket.

“If you’ve got to go, please don’t hang around on account of me,” Rai said. “It's your weekend.”

“No trouble at all. I was just checking the time.”

“Meeting a friend?”

“Nope. I’m here on my own.” Noticing Rai’s face, Sao smiled again, but wasn’t as smooth as before; there was a slight angle or off-colored light. “Something you’re not telling me - do I seem like I need supervision?”

“Are you alright in crowds like these?”

“Hm? If you’re referring to my condition - as I said, everyone here’s top of the line - very professional. Food handling actually means more gloves and good hygiene; there’s less reason for anyone to get touchy.”

“I see.”

“I am also, as you know, a fan of good eating. And where better to get that than the national food expo? I think I’ve managed to pick up a supply for the next six months, and then some.”

“So you came here for groceries?”

Since he’d been transferred to Rai’s office, Sao had come to know that red-eyed glare quite well, but had not yet built an immunity toward it. He had also been forced to accept that when Rai set his fangs in some fleshy matter of suspicion, it took more than just a smile and shake to get him off. It took the truth - or perhaps, a hard twist. 

“Alright,” Sao sighed. “You got me.”

Rai needed more than that.

“I do, in fact, have somewhere to be.” Arms flopped to his sides, the canvas bags started to slip. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t know.”

“You don’t know. And yet, nothing gets by you. Okay - I’m actually supposed to be here on a job. Just an easy one - but you’re right. I should really get back to my spot, just to check on things. It all looked like it was running smoothly, but better safe than-”

An almost imperceptible jolt ran through Rai. Sao blinked, but whatever the shock was passed, and Rai was firmly locked in his standard frown, gloves stuffed in pockets. “You were saying?”

“Better safe than sorry. And I also need to drop off these bags before the jelly packs melt. Actually...” Sao clapped his hands together, casually as he could while hoisting the two sacks up his shoulders. “You should join me, if you have a few minutes to spare. I think there’s someone over there who will interest you.”

---

With Rai in tow, Sao snaked a path through the stalls, excusing their way through marathon queues, sidestepping into alleys in between stalls, finally hopping over a braid of power cables which marked the end of the popup marketplace.

Though there were no more stalls, the smell and smoke and stickiness that coated the air did not disperse in the least, as they found themselves facing a packed seating area, an ocean of heads and clattering cutlery, and even more overflowing trash cans. A nearby child in a stroller flung (with incredible effort for two small, pudgy hands) five whole plates of beans and rice to the ground. At the explosive crash, Rai’s gaze tore through the poor family, then the crowd, and then Sao; clearly rethinking his agreement to this little adventure.

Sao mouthed something inaudible, and tipped an arm towards the sign for Hall C, at the opposite end of the ground floor. Rai very nearly dashed ahead of him to get there, but stopped at the entrance. Hall C was a wide, low-ceilinged room with a simple maze of partitions set up for the exhibitions a class apart from the marketplace. Its walls were cloaked by theatrical curtains in deep wine red, with strips of spotlights strategically brightening each stall with a crisscross of beams, setting off curves and layers of numerous glass, steel and silver. An overhead sign, made out of a single elegant plate of steel cut like a stencil, read Food of the Future.

Rai took a quick glance back the way they had come, as if to make sure they were still on the same planet. The noise of the dining area, with its crashing plates and chatter had been reduced to only mild buzz; once they stepped into the velvety walls, the cacophony would be gone entirely, replaced by the smooth hum of cooling systems and machinery.

“It’s further back,” Sao said, his voice remarkably clear in the newfound quiet.

Rai tread after him, no less suspicious than he’d been before, but with a little less trepidation. He pawed through a selection of modified plants in a transparent case, intended for space travel, and took great interest in a titanium freezer which looked large enough to hide a body. At one point Sao thought he’d disappeared, but found him waving at the sensors in the smart kitchen pavilion like he was trying to land an airplane.

They were not exactly alone, and though the crowd paled to the chaos in the main hall, there were a respectable amount of people, many of them in dark blue suits and starched shirts, blending almost unnoticed into the dark drapery and white tablecloths. A truly professional lot, Sao noted. Nobody so much as blinked when Rai activated the smart food processor for the fifth time.

Rai must have seen him grinning. “Yeah?”

“We’ll just head over when you’re ready.”

“Oh.” Rai hopped off the platform. “That’s right, you have somewhere to be. I’m done.”

“Thinking of some kitchen upgrades?”

“No way,” Rai said. “Well, nothing as fancy as that.”

“They aren’t so expensive nowadays. That setup’s just a few thousand. And Chimera’s got a lot of deals on entire suites.”

“Of course they do.” Rai shook his head. “Nah. I don’t like the thought of my kitchen watching and listening in on me all the time.”

“I see. With your business for the police and all, I can understand that.”

“Even if I didn’t work at home, I would still stick to old school kitchenware. Yeah, yeah, I know nothing is truly private anymore, but if I can avoid letting in more eyes and ears, why wouldn’t I? You get convenience in some ways, but it doesn’t offset the feeling of letting a bunch of strangers into your house, who are just going to stare at you, day in and day out.” Rai shrugged. “And for their sake - I wouldn’t want to subject anyone to staring someone like me down 24 hours. I don’t need the distraction of feeling sorry for my blender.”

Sao smiled at that thought, knowing full well it was a smokescreen. Rai was a proud person but, admirably enough, he tended to care more for his points than his person. He’d put himself down to rationalize some of the oddest things. But a little emotional outburst was always entertaining, so Sao let him have this one, and did not mention Rai’s lack of sympathy for his horrendously abused car, and overworked trio of coffee machines.

“I’d feel bad about it in my own house, but I wouldn’t object to more of them out in the world,” Rai commented.

Sao tensed. “Sorry?”

“Robot waiters are a decent idea.”

Sao wondered at this.

“Especially in places like those new cafes, or a convention; keep things smooth, avoid argument, never mess up the math. I’m sick of having to puzzle out some elaborate story to give to those hipsters, just so they’ll consider taking my money. Why don’t they just set up a-”

“We’re here,” Sao announced, finally freeing his shoulders of their sugary load. 

Rai looked up from the ramble he had been aiming at his shoes and balked.

Stowing his belongings safely behind the Chimera-brand cooler, Sao straightened up, smoothed his jacket and beamed at the table attendant. “Sorry for stepping out so long, Gene, I got distracted, you know how I can’t turn down a snack, and it just spiraled out of control. But it seems you have things well under control without my help. No problems here, I assume?”

“None at all.” A cool smile regarded him, then shifted to Rai. “Hello, sir. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uh,” Rai said, putting Sao in mind of a cat suddenly noticing a stranger was upon it, frozen as it tried to calculate its own reaction.

“Oh, of course -- Gene, this is Rai,” Sao said. “A colleague of mine. I ran into him on the way over, thought you’d like to meet him. Be nice, now.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rai.”

Gene has a similar aspect to Sao, a slender shape with with chilled, languid movements. But unlike Sao, Gene had green eyes and skin light as cream, cheeks flowing to jaw in gentle contours with nary a scratch or dimple, even if you squinted. There was no telling male from female despite the precisely fitted navy blue suit, which framed a pair of strong shoulders as well as the slim curve of hips; fabric glowing with near iridescence under the spotlights that faced the stall. Once you got a faceful of that glittering visage, it was hard to look away. With Rai’s powers of fixation, it was little wonder he was reeling.

A slight shadow of concern flickered over Gene’s face. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

“You look a bit tired. Why don’t you-” 

“Rai doesn’t sleep,” Sao said, cracking open a box of chocolate strawberries. “He always looks like that but make no mistake, he’s always ready for action.”

Rai opened his mouth, and closed it again without a word.

“Goodness, I didn’t know that part. Impressive.” 

“It’s the job,” Sao said, sweeping around Gene’s back for some napkins. “Police.”

“I see, a detective, then?” There was that ethereal smile again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. Why don’t I get you something? That’s what I’m here for.”

“Better at this job than I am, no doubt. How about coffee?” Sao suggested.

Rai was unstuck for a moment. “You have coffee here?”

“Of course, that’s half the reason I brought you back here.”

“I thought you said there was someone...” Rai shook his head. “You know what, never mind.”

“Take it away, Gene,” Sao said, and threw in a poorly shielded whisper, “You know, Rai here is a bit of a skeptic when it comes to these future-home gimmicks. Maybe you can convince him otherwise.”

Rai looked prepared to hop over the tabletop and strangle Sao, but the glitter of bemused green eyes - who seemed to have nothing in their sights but Rai - kept him at bay. And when Gene lifted a slender arm, and flicked a finger like a conjuring magician in the direction of the large mirror-plated box to their right - Rai was paralyzed again. At the gesture, box whirred then parted its seamless front panel, revealing a steaming cup.

“How is it?” Gene asked. It was a wonder how a sprightly tone carried such weight, as if the spirit itself hinged on approval.

“Good. It’s - I - thanks.”

Behind the raised cup, Rai’s face had softened a little, he might even have been smiling, in the flattened way he did when he didn’t want to reveal it. Was he truly thrilled with his third coffee of the day? Chewing strawberries, Sao knew it wasn’t just that. He had never seen Rai blush before, and maybe it was an illusion of harsh lights and maroon curtains on his face, but Rai did seem a bit duskier than usual. Oh Gene, Sao thought, far too effective for your own good. He’d have to discuss it with the management, later.

“So what do you think?” Sao asked, seriously.

“I just answered that.”

“No, I mean…” Sao stood shoulder to shoulder with Gene, and held his hands up like a television presenter. “You thoughts on this particular specimen. Do you find this barista a bit more to your liking?”

Rai gagged. “How about a little subtlety?”

“Oh, it’s alright, trust me on that.” Sao smiled at Gene. “In fact, why don’t you come around behind the counter and join us? You should get a better look.”

“Sao, please.” This from Gene. Sao was somewhat surprised to get such a reaction.

“It’ll be alright. Rai is harmless.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Gene said. The tiniest of folds began lining his face.

“You heard him. And I’d prefer not to.”

Sao sighed, pointedly at Rai. “I can’t force you two to meet if you’re against it, but it really is fine. Gene is here for the customer.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little disrespectful?” Rai muttered. “Talking about this right in front of him. Right after he said-”

“As I said, you can trust me, and Gene really doesn’t mind. It’s not your job, is it?” His target glittered in place, impassive. Sao raised his hand, which seemed dark as the night in comparison to Gene’s luminous form, and grazed the smooth jawline with his fingertips. “You don’t really care what anyone does. That’s why it’s fine.”

“Wait, wait, are you-”

Sao paused.

Rai might have been smoking out the ears. “Are you two -- wait, you’re okay with him touching--”

"Yes, I don't mind it either." Sao flattened the palm of his hand against Gene’s unmoving face, cupping the too-light flesh. He thought he saw sparks as his fingers touched the neatly placed dips of that perfectly framed face that was now leaning into him, with a curious tilt. Sparks? Was that how it worked?

“Dammit,” Rai cursed. “Okay, guys, I appreciate the coffee, Gene, but I didn’t come here to watch you two getting touchy. I'm happy for you but -- yeah, real appropriate coming from a guy who was lauding the professionalism of the businesses here-”

Sao paused for a moment; held the pose until he couldn’t bear it any longer. He would apologize later - but cruelty took hold and he burst out laughing. Before he had to face Rai’s blowback, he pulled his hand back, tensed his wrist, and sent his palm sailing straight at - or rather, clear through - Gene’s head.

The glowing face split apart without resistance, swallowing his forearm in a scatter of green and white light. The body itself stood utterly unfazed, jittering only because Sao’s arm did, as his laughter dissipated. Beside them, Rai’s jaw had all but come unhinged. And Gene, the only professional one, simply remained smiling, with Sao’s arm up to the elbow piercing his angelic face.

“Sao,” Gene said, breezy as the outside spring, which he had never seen but somehow encapsulated perfectly. “Please calm down and return to your post.”

“Dammit,” was as much as Rai managed to utter.

—

The suited figures roaming the Future Foods hall, ever the forerunners of civility, showed no amusement, disapproval - or any reaction at all - to the trio’s little episode, nor the reveal that the third man had not been a man at all.

Rai himself took it better than expected. “A hologram, are you kidding? What an elaborate setup, too.” He waved his gloved hand back and forth over the projector strips behind the bar, causing Gene’s body to flicker in and out at rectangular chunks. “If I had walked up behind the table, it would have been obvious.”

“I was as surprised as you were, when I first saw it. The stall was set up for a human to stand beside it without blocking the projection. It creates quite the illusion, doesn’t it?”

New leaflets were set out, the silver dispensary machine polished, and stack of cups refilled. Rai was having yet another helping of coffee and conversing with Gene, as if nothing had occurred between them. No — what truly boggled Sao was that Rai had become even more comfortable speaking to Gene after the revelation. Rai requested a list of all the flavors and milks and sugars that were available or not, and crowed to keep the pot warm, although this command did not seem to result in any programmed action. 

“I knew holo performers and lightshows were springing up all over the place,” Rai told his shimmering new confidante. “But with this AI - it’s impressive. You really had me going. And I mean, really.”

“I apologize for the misunderstanding, but I’m glad you found it amusing,” Gene said.

Rai sluiced a hand through Gene’s midriff to show there were no hard feelings, which drew a small chuckle from the hologram.

“I didn’t know it could laugh,” Sao said. “You must have a knack with these things.”

Rai slurped coffee and flipped through a brochure.

“I see why you have a liking for virtual services, with your touch.”

“There is no special touch. It’s probably just a reaction to my goofing around. The only reason I’m alright messing around is because I know Gene here isn’t going to retaliate. No scheming and snobbery - isn’t that right?”

“I’m sorry,” Sao said, dropping his tone.

“What for? You brought me here for the coffee, and delivered. With a little help from this guy.” Rai jabbed a thumb toward Gene, who bowed his head in appreciation, stray gold locks dropping over his shoulders. “Did you see that? The hair effect - that’s nuts. These, what would you call them, models, are they based on anyone in particular?”

“I’m not sure. It seems likely. It’s just a projection, so they probably took features from several different models to make the perfect picture.”

“I wouldn’t say no to meeting the real face behind this one.” He nodded toward Gene. “No offense, of course.”

Sao had to wonder if Rai really was so good natured, or if he was making a subtle jab. He had never considered Rai practiced in subtlety, but didn’t that only make him more susceptible to it, if Rai had simply been pulling punches the whole time?

“So, how did you wind up having to man a hologram coffee stall?” Rai held the leaflet up. “Chimera business?”

“You guessed it. A favor for my landlord.”

With a monumental gulp, Rai finished another cup. “You still want my opinion?”

“On the idea...?”

“What you were asking before. I assume you were looking for approval of this one, specifically.” Another thumb at Gene, who bowed again, the same lock of hair swinging. Rai must have really liked that.

“It doesn’t have to be a seal of approval. This one’s just a prototype. The reason for this booth is to gauge general opinion.”

Rai ordered another cup. “How’s it been so far?”

“I’ll admit - and you know already - I haven’t been standing vigil the whole time.” Could coffee be sipped any louder? Rai was compensating for the lack of a roaring crowd all on his own. Sao rubbed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to soothe the veins behind them. “Anyhow, Gene’s equipment also includes hidden mics and multi-dimensional video capture. Chimera specialties. I couldn’t tell you where this stuff is, but I’m sure his maintainers are relying on a bit more than my powers of observation. But if you’d be so kind, direct feedback is always useful.”

“Sure.” Rai was snuffling around for cameras now.

“Sir, can you please return to the front of the counter?” Gene requested.

“I haven’t changed my mind. Robot servers: way more pleasant experience than a human server who coincidentally had a bad day, on the same day you’ve had one. When you’re busy and you wouldn’t mind seeing a pretty face, but don’t want to have to generate small talk - it’s a little less depressing than a vending machine.”

“I see. These assistants are made for people like you.”

“Too damn pretty though.”

Sao stifled a laugh. “Too much of a distraction?”

“No kidding. With the magic of technology, you can make the perfect face, but maybe don’t stick the literal perfect face on a waiter. You’ll draw in nothing but perverts. You ever see one of those half dozen reports a week, where some guy forces himself on some waitress or cashier who he thinks was coming onto him, just because she asked how his day went? Plus, this kind of...” Rai gestured up and down at the glowing figure, “doesn’t have a way to defend themselves.”

“That’s half the point,” Sao said. “Gene here and his brand cohorts genuinely can’t actually be harmed, and more importantly they can’t harm anyone else. There are arguments to be made for a physical model, but you know the policy -” Rai made a face at that, “- international policy since the incident at the Peace Convention. That diplomacy android that allegedly went rogue... Since the reform, not Chimera nor any of their competitors are permitted to create human-emulating, physical nuts-and-bolts models for public use. Sticking to lightshows isn't something Chimera enjoys - a lot of talent in the field of robotics went to waste. But they've made do, and I hear implementing changes is a little more flexible with projections, just tweaking some numbers in the software can change the appearance, the persona-”

“How about some insults?”

“I don’t -- can you elaborate?”

“Give him some swears and a grittier voice, maybe some sarcasm to the standard ‘how can I help you.’” Rai’s enunciation of the line would have had customers fleeing. Rai shrugged. “If he can’t throw a punch, that’s another way to go about it.”

“This self-defense matter is important to you.”

“It’s more of a precaution. What if two or three of those attention-starved psychopaths happen to be in the cafe at the same time? Being coded to do nothing but smile and talk nice to all of them, and there will be a bloodbath. And like I said before: I do feel kind of bad for anyone - anything - forced to service the dregs of society, day after day after day after-”

“Ah - I see now.” Sao folded his arms. “Relatable.”

Rai scoffed.

“I’m sure your concerns are heard.”

“All that said - perfect or not - I still wouldn’t let one of them into my house if you paid me. Though I suspect they aren’t for private use. You gotta own one of these add-ons to make them work, am I right?” Rai tapped the silver box from which his coffee cups came. “Well, just seeing these guys in stores - that would be neat.”

“That’s right, this type is more or less aimed at the service industry. Though I suppose if someone was fabulously wealthy, and technically inclined.... but then, a millionaire might as well hire a human valet...” Sao let that thought trail off. 

“You don’t like them,” Rai said, swirling some unseen remains in his cup. “Holo-service guys. Sure, you’re working the stall, but you aren’t a fan.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Hm. You haven’t paid Gene here too many compliments.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary, would it? Inanimate objects don’t need flattery.”

“I’ve heard you wax nostalgic about pizza.”

“Pizza is an art form.” Sao smiled weakly. “Not to dismiss the work of the designers, coders, testers and all the wonderful people of Chimera. It’s just that I find these automations lacking in the flesh and blood aspect, for what they’re meant to be. It's something I don't even think a physical robot will fix. It's a void of feeling, in addition to the fact that so much work - time, money and effort - has been poured into making them look like they should have soul. They look so human, they sound and move almost perfectly. Their words are optimized for kindness, could be recordings of the most beautiful things in the world, but - I don’t know. It feels unearned, on my part. A little eerie, like an out of body experience. Any conscious work I put into interacting with this… machine, and the kindness it shows, nothing has weight.”

“Maybe some swear triggers would give you the challenge you need.”

“I’m not begging for that sort of trouble,” Sao laughed.

“Add the capacity to give you freebies.”

“Capacity - there’s a word. More variety, more judgment. The effort it takes to pass and be passed with good judgment of those around us - that’s what makes civilization, well, civil. If berating your waiter got as much a response as kindness and humor, what would the world come to?” Sao shrugged. “You could say it’s scripted either way - whether you talk to a person or a robot - and I’m just picking the one that works for me. I’ve heard doing away with judgment is good for business - no incidental cruelty, I suppose. Chimera predicts we’re headed to a virtual world. What say do I have in the way of the future?”

“A filthy deviant’s money is as good as a philanthropist’s, or is it?” Rai set his elbow on the table. “It’s weird to see you the cynic here.”

“I’m trying to be realistic.”

For once, was the message of Rai’s look.

“It’s not all doom and gloom. One thing I can appreciate, I don’t have to worry about any old skin condition when I’m around one of you, isn’t that right, Gene?” Sao gave the hologram a pat on the pale hand, the sheet of light caving without resistance, no pressure or warmth in return. Still, when he forced himself he felt his heart had open just a little to the hapless image. The beautiful imaginary person that was stuck behind this table, on display as a simple product, up for sale alongside the fridges and ovens and portable garbage disposals.

“That’s why he needs harsh words to defend himself,” Rai said.

“Why make it sound like I’m the danger?”

“Why did you try to make an AI flirt with me?”

Sao slithered down in his plastic seat. Rai never truly let up, all that molten aggravation was just hardening overhead until it the moment he let it loose. You never knew when, but it always happened just when you thought you were in the clear. And now Gene was looking at him too with those crystalline simulations of eyes, alongside Rai; bold gazes of dark and light both burning against his skin. They must have been at a standstill for at least thirty seconds, melding into the velvet backdrop with the rest of the silent crowd. Sao was only rescued by an intrusion that - what a surprise - could only have come as a result of imperfection.

A set of overhead speakers, camouflaged perfectly in the shadows above the spotlight racks, crackled to life, screamed, and hit the hall with a blast of static that shook the curtains, rattled the lights, and even made Gene’s glittering form sputter and glitch out of existence temporarily. Rai turned his attention toward the ceiling in search of the culprit, and Sao was released from his reckoning.

“What idiot set up this sound system?” Rai seethed.

“It tends to clear after a while.”

The speakers settled on a muffled blur.

“Sometimes,” Sao said.

He might have been hauled right into an argument had the speakers not swooped in again.

“Lobby!” The sound disintegrated quickly as the message went on. “Please welcome… all the sponsors who… today. Joinin… for pizza in the...”

“Pizza! A special tabling, I think I read something about it. Funny how pizza just came up in our conversation, isn’t it?” Sao smiled broadly, but Rai didn’t see it. He was staring up at the unseen speakers, or perhaps at some horror past them, with the face of a man under a guillotine.

“Everything alright?”

“I forgot. Damn, how did I -” Rai got to his feet. “It’s been… interesting seeing you here. But I gotta go.”

The speakers interrupted to inform them further, “... and in… at… we’ll be proceeding with the main event…”

“-- in … minutes… gather to meet your semi…”

As Rai swept an armful of cups into the rather sad, analog recycling bin, Sao checked the time, and rose as well.

“I’ll be joining you. Looks like I completely forgot something myself.”

“Don’t you have work to do here?”

“I think my associate can handle it.” Sao stretched his legs and dusted his jacket off. There was not a single visible spot of grime to shed, but standing beside Gene would make anyone feel like a dirt-crusted ape. “We’ll soon be seeing this capable face, or something like it, in stores all over the globe. But what waits out there today,” he gestured toward the exit with a flourish, “is a unique celebration of flesh and blood. It’s been years since such a good showing cropped up in Central, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Wait a minute.” Complete disgust clouded Rai’s face. It was wiped off only with a rather hard smearing of his gloves, and he muttered, “I can’t believe you’re a fan too.”

“I’m sorry?”

Rai, after checking his pockets, dusted off his jacket too. “No point in dragging this out. Let’s go. There’s a lot of flesh and blood waiting out there, for sure.”