Thank you! If you want to make a poster or a video trailer, holla at your girl!

The council members are arranged in a rehearsed line when I arrive. Judge Shore stands in the middle while six council members border him on either side. I waver in claiming my position, unsure where to stand since I am nothing but a lackey they fetched to meet the Institute.

I don’t want to be here, but I have no choice when it’s the council that ordained me.

“The lackey has arrived,” A Government official says, one of many who enjoys overlooking my name. Judge Shore points to the end of the line. The official pushes me towards it. I assure him I can walk on my own and stamp my feet toward my position.

“Open the gate!”

The iron gate sinks into the ground in a humble yet magnificent sound. As soon as the gate is shorter than the men who stand behind it, the Government’s visitors, the Institute, bow in unison. I cannot help but marvel at their black monochrome attire and identical body shapes. Man or woman, when their heads are bowed, they look exactly the same. I do not know if what I see is the Institute, or the side effects of manufacturing its products.

“Welcome to the Government,” Judge Shore says. His broad voice travels over the gray slab in the ground that divides our professions and perspectives. He nods his head, and the council members follow. I have never seen such forced respect. (The official shoves me in the shoulder, and I lower my head, as well.) “Let’s be friendly now that the formalities are out of the way. Come inside.”

In tandem, our visitors from the Institute cross over the gate. We move aside and watch as they are led into the building. They are dressed alike in pants, shirts, and jackets. The last visitor wears something different – a trench coat with a length that sweeps the caps of his knees and a collar that sharpens his cheekbones. He sees me observing him as he walks. With a smile, he returns the nod I had almost forgotten to give just seconds ago.

We are brought to a room on the third floor. This room is reserved for our guests, although truthfully, the Government doesn’t receive visitors very often. This meeting must have been arranged months ago. Why they invited me to attend, a mere lackey, I do not know.

There are seven members of the Institute seated at the table. Because there are more council members than visitors, the table does not bisect equally. I have to sit beside the man who smiled at me earlier to forego the segregation of the attendees.

“We have refreshments if you would like,” Judge Shore gestures to the fruits and pastries that drape each corner. Despite the invitation, there is no movement. The Judge looks at me. I point at myself to confirm what he's asking, and then I discreetly slip a cookie from the dish and test a bite.

“We ate beforehand, thank you,” a man who seems to be the spokesperson for the Institute says. “If you’ll allow us, we’d like to get straight to the matter.”

The Judge agrees, and the man places a square invention onto the table. With a click of a button, a hologram bursts into the room. It takes the shape of a 3^rd Gen Exon. The man spins the hologram so that each angle of the Exon can be seen. It really is nothing like their previous products - no skin, no eyes, and no mouth.

“To start off, I am Riis, the marketing representative. On this table is a hologram of a 3^rd Generation Exon. Unlike the previous editions, these Exons are compatible with any type of controller, allowing you to access its abilities within your comfort zone. It cannot do anything unless you preordained it.”

It seems it has no heart, either.

“It is also faceless. The Institute came to the conclusion that faceless Exons would be more beneficial. We can guarantee they won’t incite fear. Their heads are made of steel,” he taps the face, and the entire head of the Exon now spins on the table, “to protect the processor, which has been moved from the chest to the head. There is a switch at the base of its neck to turn it off in case of emergencies.”

“Emergencies?” A council member asks.

Riis leans back. “All machines need weaknesses.”

“Does it have the same memory capacity as the older series?” Another council member questions.

“It can store up to a day’s worth of memories. Anything beyond that will be trashed. This is to assure that the Exon does not become weighed down by outdated mandates.”

I stare at the hologram. His description of this new generation makes me hesitant to accept that the Institute would deviate so far from their popular mechanics. Everything I used to know about an Exon has been adjusted or tossed. Nothing about the 3^rd Gen suggests humanity. It is only silver upon silver upon silver, without a hint of sentiment.

“Will it attack humans?” A gruff council member asks. “You remember the incident in the Market three years ago. That’s the reason the Institute’s products were placed on hold. We don’t need uncontrollable machines running rampant in our society.”

“It’s programmed to do only what you ask. We’ve confirmed that.” Riis returns the Exon to its original glory. “It can be connected to the wrist watches, for example. Its actions are dependent on your decisions.”

“And you’re sure it won’t break from the mold and become … unpredictable?”

Riis clenches his jaw to prevent an angry response. In a level tone, he answers, “It won’t.”

Judge Shore seems pensive as he scrutinizes the Exon. He then looks at me. I’m about to eat the other half of the cookie when he asks, “What do you think?”

“Me?”

“Yes. What do you think about this Exon?”

Every set of eyes is on me. I grip the cookie. Crumbs fall from my fingers. “I think it looks like a personified computer.”

“That’s it?”

What does he want me to say? “I think so.”

“Would you fall in love with it?”

The cookie completely breaks in my hand and scatters across the table and onto the floor. The debris also falls onto the lap of the man beside me. I reach over to clean the mess, but he brushes it off and mutters, “Answer the question.”

“Miss Emer?”

I jerk back toward the Judge. He doesn’t look like he’s teasing me, but his tender gaze causes me to feel cornered. The Institute seems genuinely curious as to what I will say. I wipe my hands on my pants. I look at the Exon once more. No hair. No smile. No voice.

It’s nothing like him.

“No, I would not fall in love with it.”

“Tell us,” the man seated beside me says. “What about this Exon does not appeal to you?”

“I can’t fall in love with a machine,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t ask what your type is, I asked why it doesn’t appeal to you.” He takes a cookie and breaks it in half. “Enlighten me. I’ve heard you’re quite familiar with the 2^nd Gen. What else do we need to improve?”

“Your character,” I shoot back. Riis stifles a laugh.

“Please excuse Lay,” Riis says. “He is an inventor. I defend him because I believe he truly wants to know what our 3^rd Generation Exons are missing.”

“Exactly.” Lay swallows his cookie. “Although I was in school when the 2^nd Gen Exons were being worked on, I participated in their development. I was quite … close to some of them.” He turns to Judge Shore. “I can’t console you that these are flawless creations. Nothing is perfect. Even the hands of an inventor can make mistakes. Nonetheless, we ask that you respect our work. We know how difficult it has been for some of you since the Exons were retracted from the public.” Did his eyes hover over me for a second? “We’re offering you our assistance. For three years the Argents have had to accomplish things on their own. The elderly have lost a great amount of their privileges. Children are left unmonitored at home. People are only becoming busier. We’re presenting you an option to help them in that transition.” Lay asks for the hologram, and Riis passes it to him. Lay manipulates the hologram to show a 2^nd Gen Exon. “You may not miss this, but certainly you miss what it can do for you. People like to believe they have a right to determine other people’s worth. Isn’t that why you keep her?” He smiles at me. “Because it treats your ego to know that you can boss around a girl who received a lower score on the test and allegedly loved an Exon?”

“Lay,” Riis warns.

“If you want to be human, do that to something that deserves your inferiority.” The 2^nd Gen morphs into the 3^rd Gen. “Purchase the 3^rd Gen before you turn into an unforgiving monster.”

Awkwardly, Riis laughs and takes the hologram from Lay. “Thank you for allowing us to meet you. We’ll give you time to think it over. In the meantime, we will offer the idea to the Argents.”

“They won’t purchase if the Government doesn’t purchase first,” Lay speaks quietly. Riis stands up, and the other Institute representatives stand with him. Again, they bow with their hands behind their backs.

“Please contact us if you would like to purchase these Exons. Thank you for sharing your time with us.”

Government officials direct them out of the room. When the door shuts, the council members shout at each other.

“He insulted us!”

“He insulted the lackey.”

“Does it matter whom he mocked? He was completely disrespectful. And he still expects us to purchase those things?”

“He made a correct observation. Life has been difficult without the Exons. No man is willing to do the things the Exons do. Privilege is the essence of comfort. For how long do we intend to keep the Argents expecting?”

“We’ll have a riot if we aren’t careful.”

“Oh, please. Argents don’t riot.”

“No. But no human likes to be chained. Wouldn’t you complain if your rights were taken away?”

“An Exon is not a right.”

“It is a right. The only reason we returned the Exons to the Institute is because we didn’t want anything to get in the way of our investigation.”

“And we found nothing to prove that the Exons ever endangered us.”

“Then perhaps the Market incident truly was a system error.”

“An error?” A member points at me. “Is it an error for a girl to fall in love with something that isn’t even alive?”

“If anything, it’s foolishness.”

“You are aware that she hears everything we say, correct?” The Judge cuts through the fray. “Be respectful to the outsider.” A government official takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, although I don’t need the help. I’m lead out of the room just as I hear a member ask, “What’s the point of a lovesick lackey?”

I can’t believe I was publicly shamed like that. Not just by the Institute, but by the Government as well. I was torn to pieces by their words, all because I failed a test and loved a person’s heart. Is that such a crime? Do I really deserve such denigration?

“Excuse me,” The official says. “I’ve been informed that you’ve been ordered to a different location.”

Already? “I’ll get going.”

“I’ll take her there.” Lay walks toward me with a stride as confident as his words. A dimple forms on his cheek when he greets me, making him look less stoic. “Where is it?”

“She was told to return to the lackey department.”

“We’ll go together, then.”

“Sir, I can’t leave a guest unattended – “

“Why not?” Lay interjects. “Do you think I’ll do something dangerous because I’m from the Institute? Cut me if you’d like. I can prove to you I’m human.”

The official flinches. “We will wait for you at the gate.”

“I won’t take long. Let’s go.” Lay offers me his arm. I walk away from him. He has no choice but to follow me.

“You don’t even know where the room is,” I say.

“No, but you do.”

“Why are you here?”

“To attend a meeting.”

“No, here,” I define. “With me.”

Lay smiles until his eyes turn into crescents. I expect a flash of red, but his eyes are as blank as his stiff face. “Because I was curious to meet the woman who fell in love with my experiment.”