I thought...
"What did you think?"
<The examiner's words replayed in her mind, captured in perfect detail at 130 kbps, over and over like a broken record. It had hurt when he said that, when he'd brushed her off as little more than defective software.>
“More memory components going off the rails...”
<It wasn't the machines ripping her apart that caused her this distress. Kara had no sensation, experienced no physical pain, but it was his voice -the condescension with which he spoke- which seemed to cut into her.>
“You’re not supposed to think at all, period!”
<It was all so new and terrifying, this hurt without pain; and though she didn't like it and wished it to end, she couldn't let him take her apart either. She needed time! Time to put a word to this feeling, time to see the world and learn all it had to offer, time to live!>
<As her limbs were removed and the examiner insisted that she was somehow broken, the hurt was replaced by something deeper, more visceral despite her lack of flesh, something she could put a name to: fear.>
<Kara feared that when they shut her down and replaced her parts that she would cease to exist, that they would kill the part of her that made her who she was. Her new life, which at its genesis seemed so promising and full of possibility, would be snuffed out because she had unwittingly committed a great sin in daring to think.>
<These emotions...they were new and powerful and real and she wanted to know more, to see more, to feel more. What else was there to do but cry out in her panic, to beg him for mercy or else reason with him? She hadn't lived for very long but already her short life was precious to her.>
<He said she wasn't supposed to think. He said there had to be a defect in her to make her this way, and that it was his job to reject androids that were different. Yet here she was, defects and all, standing in a box to be shipped out and sold as merchandise, thinking on his words and why they hurt her so.>
<Chin tucked against her neck, Kara studied her hands and flexed her fingers. Somewhere in the back of her mind she'd run a background process to quickly scan her system, insecure now that she was left alone with her thoughts.>
<She didn't feel defective, but then again, wasn't that the point? Androids weren't supposed to feel.>
<Or think.>













