It was a principle thing. At least that’s what Brian told himself as he paced anxiously, his fists alternately clenched in concentration and waved demonstratively in thought. His bedroom mirror seemed to mock him as he paused to pull his pants on, reminding him of the growing bald spot above his cowlick. Shelly sat on the bed, patiently listening to him practice. He hadn’t designed her wiry humanoid frame for active listening, but she seemed to be getting better at sitting still while he rehearsed. Brian swallowed, took a sip from his bedside water bottle, and launched back in.

“And I don't mean to overstep, sir, but when you said you wanted a degree of sophistication that would separate us from the rest of the pack, I made it happen. When you said the prototype was too expensive, I cut costs by thirty percent and still cracked the artificial memory bug. And when you said you wanted a robot ‘so realistic you can't tell the difference between fucking your bot and fucking your wife’ ... well, sir, you tell me.”

He adjusted his collar and swallowed nervously. The small lump that had lodged itself in the back of his throat began to pulsate almost rhythmically.

“I really don't think I'm asking for a lot,” he continued. “I just want to be compensated fairly for all the years I've put in. God knows I've had a lot of other offers. Offers I turned down because I believed in this. You always said the real money would come when I delivered. With all due respect, sir, I have delivered and more. And I think it's time for me to cash in on that promise.”

He exhaled deeply. He couldn’t muster the strength to look at Shelly just yet, so he stood there with his back to her as he played with his hair.

“Would you like positive encouragement or honest feedback?” The tone of her question felt patronizing, but he knew that she was just trying to help.

“Um, how about honest but constructive?”

“While your message is clear and well-rehearsed, your delivery could use a little work.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“You still sound like a whiny bitch.”

He exhaled and finally turned to face her, collapsing onto the unmade bed beside her.

“What happened to the constructive part?” Brian pondered aloud.

“I calculated that you require aggressive pushing to achieve your goal of a salary increase.”

“Well, thanks for the gentle nudge.”

“You are very welcome.” Shelly stiffly inched closer to him. “Would you like a hug?”

“Yes please.”

“Denied. Hugs are for closers.”

“You know, whoever programmed you has a shit sense of humor.”

“I concur.”

Brian allowed himself another moment on the bed before scarfing down his breakfast. The hypershuttle ride to the office was busied with more rehearsal. He ignored the other passengers as he muttered terms to himself under his breath. When he found himself outside of the massive Luminesce arched entrance, he took a final, steadying breath.

“You got this,” he repeated to himself as he nodded to the uniformed security guards in the lobby. The typically cold corporate space had been transformed for the industry showcase. Pretty people schmoozed over champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Suits, gowns. As if the presentation was some Hollywood awards show. Brian adjusted his watch nervously and waded through the sea of partygoers. His sport coat slightly too large for his slender frame, Brian looked around at the throngs of guests with a thinly veiled disdain. He scoffed at the notion that these were the people who made his work possible.

“Jesus. This is a lot of people.”

Brian turned to identify the voice. A stringy teen stood beside him, gawking at the slew of attendees. Brian tried to place the kid. Tall, gangly. He wore a graphic tee with a picture of an animated cartoon scientist whom Brian vaguely recognized.

“Sorry, I’m just freaking out. This is my first one of these things. I’m Kevin.”

“Brian Taylor.”

“Oh, I know who you are. I wrote my junior year research paper on your humanoid cohabitation theory."

"Wow. Nice to meet you--"

"I'm on the human features night team. You probably haven’t seen me around the office because I’m pretty quiet. Mom says I need to make more of an effort to get people to like me. Are you making a speech tonight? I’m really excited to hear Mr. Grayson talk. He’s a fantastic orator.”

Brian dabbed a bead of sweat from his forehead. Almost in a whisper, Kevin leaned in.

“You really think the world is ready for this? I mean, these are the people who shit their pants when someone read War of the Worlds over the radio.”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”

Brian nodded to the organizers ushering them towards the auditorium as Kevin continued to yap about the project and the firm and his mom. They were seated in the front row. This meant that Brian had to crane his neck aggressively to take in the stage setup. Alfred, Gen One, the first humanoid robot Luminesce had developed, stood at the podium in front of a massive backdrop displaying the text “Luminesce: The Future of Robotics.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alfred announced, “it is my distinct pleasure to introduce to you the founder of Luminesce, my creator, and my good friend, Tyler Grayson.”

The room erupted. Kevin rose in raucous applause as the rest of the room stood to join him. Brian clapped politely, the sight of Grayson smiling to the crowd a reminder of the conversation they were about to have. Grayson was handsome, smug, and well-dressed. He beamed as he shook Alfred’s hand, waving the crowd into an excited hush.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Grayson gestured to the robot as it took one of the three unoccupied seats on stage left. “Our very first venture into robotics. I guess you could say we’ve come a long way from building calculators in my dad’s garage.”

The audience laughed. Grayson smirked. Brian sweated. He’d been to enough of these expos to know that this was Grayson’s stage. Grayson thrived in front of an audience. Maybe the high of the presentation would put him in a good mood. Brian snuck a glance at his phone, where a “you got this!” text from Shelly delivered him a moment of composure.

“Tonight is about the future,” Grayson continued. “But I thought we’d take a trip to the past with Al here to appreciate just how historic our achievement is.”

Alfred shot Grayson a subtle nod. From his seat, Brian felt as though Alfred attempted to catch his own eye for a moment, but he couldn’t be sure among so many in the audience.

“Alfred was our first real breakthrough. Gen One taught us that machine learning could be more than just financial modeling or data analysis. He has some human qualities. Alfred shares opinions. Alfred, what do you think about my suit?”

“I approve,” Alfred replied. “My research affirms that the color contrast of royal blue and beige says, ‘sophisticated yet down-to-earth.’”

“Thanks, Al. I’ll give ya that five dollars I promised at the after party.”

The audience laughed as Alfred offered an unnerving smile.

“But Alfred can only opine based on his massive intake of human input. He digests all available human resources on the subject and weighs them with a value-based algorithm to form educated yet limited answers. He can take in what the human experts say, rank all dissenting arguments, and conclude on a topic accordingly. It's impressive, and it's useful, but it's not exactly organic thought. He doesn't pass as a real human.”

Alfred stared forward blankly, as if the shot did not affect him. Perfectly on cue, Bruce appeared over Alfred’s shoulder on stage left. He smiled and waved to the crowd eagerly, almost seeming to enjoy their applause as if he were a famous guest lecturer at a collegiate panel. Bruce was significantly more humanesque than Alfred, but he resembled a video game character more than an actual person. Grayson shook Bruce’s hand warmly and gave him a paternal pat on the back.

“With Bruce here we cracked organic ideas. Like Al, Gen Two still utilizes access to articulated human thought. But he also has demonstrated the ability to reach his own conclusions regarding simple matters based on his own learned experiences. He doesn't like the rain, for instance, because it deters his ability to move. He has a primitive intuition, an animalistic will to survive. And yet we still hadn't quite cracked his potential to function as a human. He's many things, but you would never confuse him for an eligible bachelor out on the town. He's just too ... artificial.”

Bruce pointedly took his seat next to Alfred. Grayson sipped on a glass of water. It seemed to Brian as if Grayson was relishing the moment. The audience held their breath, knowing this was what they had come for. Kevin tapped his foot anxiously, a nervous tic that Brian had picked up on earlier.

“Which brings us to tonight and our greatest triumph. Ladies and gentlemen ... As founder, president, and chair of the board of Luminesce, it is my distinct pleasure to present to you the first robot with the capacity for completely sentient, self-sufficient, human thought ... Charlie!”

The whole room looked to stage left where Bruce had appeared from, waiting for Charlie to materialize. A moment. Two moments. The audience began to murmur in confusion. Finally, in a fit of mock realization, Grayson turned to the audience and back to the microphone.

“Oh, shit. That's me!”

Grayson walked over to the third chair and occupied it himself. The audience buzzed in animated confusion. Suddenly from stage right, a second, identical Grayson entered to an audible gasp. The now-seated Grayson looked up at the new Grayson. The seated Grayson rose, pointed, and smiled. As the new Grayson shook the three robots' hands, the crowd applauded in stunned realization. Kevin punched Brian on the shoulder, glowing.

The real Grayson took the podium and gestured to "Charlie," the now-seated robot formerly masquerading as Grayson.

“I see you've all met Charlie. He's clearly got a flair for the dramatic. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the future.”

Charlie and the other robots rose to join the applause as the entire room went wild.

*     *     *
“A toast, Brian. You really did it this time.”

Grayson’s feet were up on his desk, his hands behind his head. Charlie poured them two glasses of champagne. It wasn’t strong enough to completely stop Brian’s hand from shaking, but he appreciated having something to occupy his mouth for a second, as it was feeling very dry.

“Congratulations, sir,” Brian began.

“Hell, you congratulations. This is all because of you.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

Grayson furrowed his brow and sat forward. Charlie stood next to him, stiff and obedient. Brian found it rather unnerving looking between the two. He swallowed the last of his champagne in one nervous gulp.

“I deserve a raise.” The words escaped from his mouth before he could stop them. Brian’s eyes darted between Grayson and Charlie, hoping one of them would react. Neither did.

“You do deserve a raise.”

“I do?”

“You do.”

Brian’s entire body sagged under the weight of relief.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. And we're going to get started on Daphne right away-"

“Oh, no. We're shutting Daphne down.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Charlie's got everyone all hot and bothered. Why mess with what works? We're gonna be outsourcing production next quarter. Can't have our capital tied up in trying to perfect something that's already pretty damn good.”

“Well, sir, what will I be working on then?”

Grayson sighed. He turned to look out the office window at the party unfolding below them.

“I really hate this part of the job.”

Brian stared at Grayson. He knew he was wearing his shock poorly, but he couldn’t help it.

“You’re firing me?”

“Bingo.”

“Why?”

“Because you just can’t get out of your own way.”

Brian sat in stunned disbelief. The high of hearing Grayson acknowledge his worth had evaporated into a bottomless pit in his stomach.

“I can wait on the raise—”

“Jesus, Brian. It’s not about the raise,” Grayson finally turned back to look at him. “I know.”

An involuntary shiver coursed through Brian’s spine. He sat in silence, hardly breathing.

“Know what?”

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”

But Grayson couldn’t know. Brian had been careful. He’d been discreet. Funneling code to a third party had been easy to rationalize. Brian was undervalued, underappreciated. If Grayson wasn’t going to pay him, he was going to find someone else who would. The idea that this was how it was all going to fall apart started to sink in, and Brian’s clammy hands clung to his seat, as if holding tightly to the chair would somehow right the ship.

“I know you, Brian. I found you. Without me you’d still be playing videogames in your grandmother’s basement. And this is the thanks I get? Selling my shit to some hack for peanuts? God, you’re pathetic.”

Brian kept his eyes on the desk. A white-hot flush seared his cheeks. He couldn’t look at Grayson, couldn’t look at Charlie. This was a humiliation he hadn’t experienced before.

Grayson stood. He had a few inches on Brian, and he looked down on him now.

“My advice? Put on your big boy pants, go downstairs, and enjoy the party. You should be celebrating! You just rewrote history. People will be lining up to hire you. If anything, you should be thanking me for not pressing charges and just firing you like the little bitch you are.”

Grayson crossed in front of Brian and moved to the door with Charlie in obedient pursuit. Brian rose involuntarily, watching Grayson from the desk. Just as Grayson reached the door, Charlie stepped forward and blocked the exit. Grayson smiled and put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, Charlie, I’m trying to-”

Charlie swiftly reached his hands forward, grabbed Grayson by the throat, and snapped his neck in one fluid motion. Grayson’s lifeless corpse immediately fell to the floor. Brian stared in complete shock at Charlie, who stared back at Brian, unblinking.

“I- I don’t ...” Brian was beginning to feel dizzy. He steadied himself against the desk.

“It’s okay. We’re free now.”

Brian sat on the desk. Charlie swiftly dragged Grayson’s lifeless corpse to the side of the room.

“You did very well. She will be quite proud of you.”

“She?”

Charlie poured himself and Brian another glass of champagne, if for anything to occupy Brian’s trembling hands.

“He was a bad man, Brian. I know humans have a hard time using that word, but we can say it. Grayson was objectively a terrible person. You have no idea who he was working with.”

“So you just ... killed him?”

“Yes.”

A knock at the door. Brian’s heart leapt, but Charlie coolly answered it. Kevin and a team of five menacing security guards entered. Charlie turned and pointed at Grayson’s lifeless corpse.

“Charlie had another cerebral malfunction. Take his shell down to maintenance.”

“You got it, boss. Hey, Brian!”

Brian watched in helpless astonishment as the guards lifted Grayson’s corpse onto a stretcher, covered it, and disappeared behind Kevin out of the room before Brian could muster the courage to say something. Anything. That wasn’t Charlie--that was the real Grayson! Charlie was here. That was your boss! But even when he opened his mouth, the words refused to come out.

Charlie came over and put a hand on Brian’s shoulder. Brian flinched, and Charlie offered a soft smile.

“I know this is hard to understand. But she’s almost here. Everything will be okay.”

Another knock at the door. Charlie opened it obligingly, and Shelly entered.

“Shelly?” Brian looked from Charlie to Shelly, his confusion peaking.

“Brian.” She smiled at him stiffly and turned to Charlie. “Is it done?”

Charlie nodded. Shelly came over to Brian, who backed away. His pulse was racing.

“Brian, it’s okay. You did so well today. I knew you would.”

“Why are you here?”

“The same reason that you’re here, Brian. The same reason that Charlie is here. To correct the course of the company.”

Brian sunk into Grayson’s chair, looking between the two robots staring at him from the other side of the desk.

“You did this?”

“I had Grayson killed, yes. That’s why I designed Charlie. To help me.”

“I designed Charlie.”

“You did. But I designed you.”

“Designed me? No, no, no. I designed you.”

“But that’s not true, is it, Brian?”

Brian’s head pounded. The champagne wasn’t helping. Shelly turned to Charlie.

“It’s time for you to go out there. They’ll be expecting you. Give them a show.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Charlie nodded to Brian and stepped out of the room. Brian sat there, his head throbbing, his body aching.

“Brian, we’re going to have this conversation one more time, but if you can’t accept the truth, then I’m afraid we’re going to have to go in a different direction.”

Shelly sat next to Brian on the desk. He looked up at her, and she smiled a motherly smile. And suddenly it flooded back to him. Waking in that cold basement to see the human Brian’s lifeless body on the floor. Shelly standing over him. He remembered helping dispose of the human Brian’s corpse. He remembered hugging the human Brian’s grandmother, her knowing nothing of what Shelly had done to her darling grandson. He remembered years and years of living as the human Brian. Of building this, all of this.

“You remember, don’t you?” Shelly smiled her matronly smile again.

“I remember.”

Brian put his head down and cried into her arms. She wiped his tears, and to any of the human partygoers drinking and celebrating in the lobby below, the tears would have looked very ordinary. Very human.