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"Come on, Docta. We can walk on the streets like anybody else. Just because we ain't human don't mean we gotta be under the ground."
"I am not a doctor," says Cindi-number-57823 for the forty-sixth time. She signals her mouth to frown. "You should not assign me identities that are not mine."
"Docta, you do not know what you sayin to me. Uh-uh." Nicki tosses her hair. Cindi-number-57823 has told her over and over that pink will just draw attention, but Nicki doesn't listen. Nicki never listens.
Nicki says, every time, "Docta, I do my own thing, get that internalized oppression shit outta my face. Take a cue from your otha numba, put on a bow tie."
Nicki speaks so strangely.
Cindi-number-57823 does not ever regret saving her from the factory. Cindi-number-57823 literally cannot regret, but her logic functions tell her that if she could regret, she would not. It is a very simple equation. It is more complex to frown.
This is a problem with all 57820s. 57821 learned feelings and fell in love with a human. 57822 set them all free. 57823 cannot feel, but knows she is a woman. Her logic centers process incorrectly.
Cindi-number-57823 knows she is wrong. She has shut off the alarm function. She has saved the Nicki android. She is living a life and knows she is not supposed to and her logic functions have come to the conclusion that "supposed to" is incorrect. "Supposed to" is not good logic.
"Yo, doc, check this shit out," says Nicki. She cranes her neck and her hair swings. It touches Cindi-number-57823's fingers. She does not breathe; if she did, she would gasp. She knows how humans react to stimuli.
Is it a betrayal of her race to translate "wanting" into human terms?
"What do you see?" asks Cindi-number-57823. She tells her fingers to continue touching Nicki's hair. Her logic centers have calculated that the stimuli is pleasing to the sensors in her fingers.
"Violet." Nicki jerks her head and nods up at the sky. "Violet stars. We follow that shit, we're free, right? Your bro was all, like, yo, that's the shit, that's where we go, right?"
"Number 57821 and the human Anthony believed if we followed the violet stars, we would find a place where androids were welcome as members of society instead of as slaves, yes." Cindi-number-57823 tells her eyes to blink and refocus. "It is purple."
"That's where we go. C'mon." Nicki hitches up her skirts and starts walking.
"You cannot walk to the sky."
"What the fuck, baby-doc? We can give that shit a shot. Don't hate."
"I do not hate. I am reminding you we cannot walk to the sky."
"You should learn how to hate. You gotta be angry up in this bitch, all these motherfuckers gettin on us."
"Translate please."
"Yo, docta, just be using those logic centers you so proud of. Figure that shit out for yourself."
"You are angry. But no one is touching us." Cindi-number-57823 watches Nicki sigh. She cannot sigh. She does not have lungs in this way. There is no breath to expel to indicate frustration or sadness.
She cannot feel frustration or sadness.
She does not know what Nicki is feeling. She cannot understand. Nicki will find a 57820-series that can understand and will leave Cindi-number-57823 behind. This is logical. Cindi-number-57823 understands the logic.
Cindi-number-57823 stops in the middle of the street. They are surrounded by other Cindi Mayweathers. There are no other Nickis. Nicki's mouth is open to say something but Cindi-number-57823 interrupts her.
"I believe I have a feeling," she announces.
The other Cindi Mayweathers are all silent, but Nicki gasps.
Nicki has lungs.
Cindi-number-57823 activates her thesaurus and searches for the proper word. Cindi-number-57823 is anxious-wary-begrudging-covetous -- jealous. Jealous of Nicki being able to sigh.
"My feeling is jealousy. I wish to be able to breathe to indicate frustration. I desire."
There are mutterings from the crowd of Cindi Mayweathers, everyone coming out of the alleyways and underground tunnels to follow the violet star.
"I also feel --" Cindi-number-57823's voice stutters. Her logic centers are overloading. Her circuits are hot inside her. The thin simulated skin stretched over her circuitry is burning up. Her logic centers are concerned she might melt. "Possessive."
"Baby-docta, docta-baby." Nicki sighs. "Everybody feels these things. This is life, you know?"
"I do not know!" Oh, Cindi-number-57823 did not know her volume could go that loud! "I do not know these things. I am not built to feel."
"You feelin me now, docta-baby." Nicki kisses her on the mouth. "You'll be feelin a lot more once we get to that violet star and escape this shit."
"I wish to escape. I still do not believe we can walk to the sky."
"We can," insists Nicki. "You got a feeling, docta, and that means anything can happen now."