Terribly Abnormal About Robots

For a moment, Uzi thought she’d be ignored again, but the silver curtain now turned to reveal those amber eyes once more, trying their best to stare flatly‍ ‍‍—‍ and failing. Unsteady eyes, unsteady voice, but she tried. “I just said I wouldn’t provide that service for free.”

“Name your price, then.”

J paused at that‍ ‍‍—‍ had she even thought that far ahead?‍ ‍‍—‍ before finding a line to continue: “Start by telling me why. Your kind was built to operate on this exomoon. I know your core runs hot. You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying! I’m just‍—” Uzi stopped. She’d dealt with J enough to know what worked and what didn’t‍ ‍‍—‍ the corporate drone liked her precision. “Okay, it was a bit of a deception. I thought I could be slick, ugh. I just…” She trailed off.

J clicked her tongue. “Well?”

“Um. Don’t laugh at me?” Uzi said. “I know we do the whole constant sniping at each other thing a lot but. Promise me you’ll be nice?”

“Why should I promise anything? I’m not the one who wants something here.”

“Right. Of course. Forget it, J. You’re always so‍— ugh.” Metal scraping on concrete again, this time from Uzi beginning to stand up.

“Wait,” J started. “Let me amend that. I do want an answer to my question. Are you insisting on a non‍-​disparagement before disclosure?”

Uzi stared at the taller drone. But that was J‍-​speak for not being an asshole, right? “Something like that. Just. I can’t do this if you’re going to be… too you about it.”

Wrong thing to say. J hissed, rising sharply and beating Uzi to a stand. Looming over her now, she said, “Excuse me? Who else am I supposed to be?”

“This is what I mean! You didn’t understand what I meant, but instead of like. Asking me, you’re one second away from biting my face off!”

“I. asked,” J ground out. “I just asked! That’s quite literally the only the I said?”

“But you‍ ‍‍—” Uzi started yelling and stopped herself. J had already raised her volume too, this was an arms race, but she had dealt with J enough to know this needed to stop‍ ‍‍—‍ Uzi needed to stop‍ ‍‍—‍ before this escalated to violence again. “Why did you stand up?” she finally asked.

“Why did you?”

“I was going to leave. Were you gonna stop me?”

“Then leave! Incoherent glitching toaster. Far be it from me to keep you chained here.”

Uzi huffed. Still mad about the pod, huh? A few weeks ago, she might’ve even said it, and then J might have immediately made a liar of herself. Instead, just the single huff of amusement, and she said, “You got mad at me, and you wanted to assert dominance. Murder drone instincts took over, right?”

“I’m not some animal. You insulted me, and I wasn’t going to take it.”

“How did I insult you?”

“Quote, ‘you’re going to be too you about it.’ Like I’m inherently offensive to you!”

“That’s not what I meant! I like‍— I don’t hate you. somehow. Despite this bullcrap.”

“Gracious little toaster, aren’t you? Should I bow? Should I promise to prove myself worthy?”

“You don’t have to bow, J.” Uzi sighed.

“I’m my own person,” J spat, fingers curling scare‍-​quotes. “I don’t see what the point is when this is the thanks I get for being Serial designation J!” Even when the worker opened her mouth to respond, J kept going: “Maybe I should bow! Disassemble this fraudalent pride of mine, and admit who really calls the shots. You’d shut up if I just gave in and let you do whatever you want, wouldn’t you?”

“J, no, knock it off.” Uzi reached out, three‍-​fingered hand curling around the transmodular gauntlet that, somewhere in her rant, had switched into three sharp, sharp claws, wildly swung with each gesture. “Don’t go back to being a suck‍-​up, that’s lame as hell and I‍ ‍‍—‍ I don’t deserve that anyway.”

“On that, we can agree. You deserve a bullet to the head and a hole under the spire. But everything had to go wrong.”

“No, J. We both deserve to live and make our own choices. That’s the point.”

“Choices,” J choed, tone opaque. “But there’s clearly a right choice. I should just stop fighting.”

“Are you listening to me J? Again, no. You stop being a sassy grump you get rid of half what I like about you.”

J very slowly trained every yellow eye on the purple drone. She blinked. “…Excuse me?”

“That’s‍ ‍‍—‍ Um. I didn’t mean to say that.”

J tore away the arm that was still held by the gauntlet‍-​wrist. She twisted, coat and skirt flaring, and stomped away from the worker. Stiletto‍-​pegs cracked the concrete roof. “Obviously. You didn’t mean it. You’re always such a liar!”

Uzi screamed. “J! Freaking listen! Can I say anything without you taking it in the worst possible light?”

J half‍-​glanced back, revealing one eye. “How many times have you fucked with me then told me it isn’t what you mean?”

“I’m trying my best!”

“Try harder,” J said coldly. “The difference between us is that I know how to speak precisely when it matters.”

“What? You want me to…” Uzi thought about it. It’s not like this conversation could go much worse, could it? “Fine. You want to know why? I… place a high value on our partnership and I’m… invested in your growth. So I… wanted to execute a multi‍-​step plan to initate tactile cooperation? While remaining verbally competitive? As part of a transition to an um… complicated integration?” Uzi gave up there, voiced turned to a squeaking. She threw up her hands to cover her screen. It was all out there, in the most embarassing way. This was the part where J started laughing at her. This was the part she wanted to avoid.

Click, click. Pegs tapped on the roof. Arms shot forward. Oh, was she already attacking‍—

“Okay.” J put her hands on Uzi’s shoulders. Then they drifted lower, easily wrapping around her waist and lifting her up. She was pulled closer, arms knitting this into a hug while Uzi was suspended in the air. “Your jargon could use some work, but I do have a responsibility to my investors. Is this tactile cooperation sufficient to pay your dividends?”

“I…” Uzi rubbed her screen into J’s suit and at length, retuned the hug. “I thought you’d laugh at me. Or yell at me some more. I just wanted to play it casual. Subtle.”

“Unclear,” J said. “I don’t do well with ambiguity from drones who tried to kill me.”

“You don’t trust me,” Uzi summarized.

“I know when to trust you. When you’re angry, when you’re embarrassed, when you can’t hide when you’re really feeling. But if you’re confident, smug, I know you’re scheming something. I don’t like being manipulated.”

“That’s… that’s not what happened tonight, though,” Uzi said slowly. “Actually, nevermind, I don’t want to fight about that again. But it sounds like you do. Are you really saying you ragebait me on purpose?”

“It can serve a purpose.” She did not say ‘no’.

“You are the worst.” Uzi groaned into the fabric of J’s suit, smelling of old oil. “But that just means more, uh, room for the stock to grow. I guess.”

J hummed half‍-​agreement. But then Uzi felt a smirk forming, and a retort, “Past performance‍—”

“I know. We’ll argue again, and then I’ll question why I ever let you live, again. Let me have this, for now. Be quiet. It’s… it feels so nice, sometimes, having you there, having your help. You’re pret‍— aesthetically rewarding. Some days I wonder if you might become my next favorite thing. Then you open your mouth.”

“You said you wanted to stay verbally competitive,” J murmured.

“I hate this. I hate you.” Uzi squeezed her tighter, nestling against her warmth. “Thanks, J. I’m glad we‍ ‍‍—‍ glad this was profitable, in the end.”