Dr. Green was obviously not there.

The crinkled shell of a man was sitting right in front of me, but he was not present in any meaningful way. A firm gust blew over my constricted vocal actuators; the closest approximation of clearing my “throat” I could manage. There wasn’t even the faintest hint of recognition in Green’s eyes.

He finally snapped to attention as if we had been talking the whole time.

“She wasn’t always like this, no sir. She was vibrant and full of…life, I guess you could call it.” He spoke clearly and slowly. “Now, I look at her but don’t see her anymore.”

He waved towards a corner and before the servos had rotated my optics to her, I had figured it out. She was a Kaylee model, a short-lived fad from decades ago. Kaylee’s were made to adapt. A simple A.I., to be sure, they watched their owner and learned how to behave from them. If you loved sports, Kaylee loved sports too.

She was functioning perfectly. Green’s brain was drifting away and Kaylee was along for the ride.