Chapter 9 · Continued
Normal Parameters
“That is the most corporate possible way you could have described dishwasher lingerie,” he said.
For a fraction of a second, Jane could have sworn the corner of CBIE’s mouth twitched.
Tiny.
Gone immediately.
But there.
The meeting wrapped up shortly afterward.
“Thank you for your continued participation in the RCAM Beta Adaptive Integration Program,” CBIE said. “Cam’s stabilization metrics appear significantly improved following the arbitration-alignment patch.”
Chris nodded. “Glad to hear it.”
“We may request additional consultation regarding your methodology.”
Jane looked toward Chris.
He noticed, but his answer remained casual. “Sure.”
“Have a pleasant afternoon, everyone.”
The screen went dark.
The kitchen suddenly felt strangely quiet.
Jane disconnected Cam, then carried her coffee to the table and dropped into a chair with a long exhale. “Well, that was less terrifying than usual.”
Chris sat beside her. “Honestly? That went really well.”
Jane grinned. “I actually think I saw CBIE almost smile when we told her about the underwear.”
Chris snorted. “Oh, they absolutely logged that.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, I know.” He leaned back in his chair. “Honestly, it gave them something useful to think about.”
“The dishwasher?”
“The behavior behind it,” Chris clarified.
They both glanced toward Cam, who had already begun clearing the coffee mugs from the counter.
“Beta tests aren’t only looking for failures,” Chris continued. “They want unexpected adaptation too—good or bad.”
Jane watched Cam carry the mugs to the sink.
Normal. Steady. Okay again.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess I’m still worried they’ll come and take him again.”
Chris’s expression softened immediately.
He understood exactly what she meant. It wasn’t fear for the hardware. It was the emptiness left behind afterward.
He looked down for a moment before answering. “You know they probably will eventually.”
Jane nodded.
She knew.
It still sucked.
“I had one for nearly a year during an earlier adaptive trial,” Chris said.
Jane looked at him, surprised. “You did?”
“Oh, yeah.” A small laugh escaped him. “It took me two weeks to stop leaving dishes beside the sink after they took mine back.”
Jane looked at him differently after that. He didn’t merely understand the technology.
He understood the loss.
By then, Chris was absentmindedly holding her hand, gently turning her fingers between his as they talked. It felt comfortable. Natural.
“I remember the first morning after mine was recalled,” he said quietly. “I walked into the kitchen half asleep and actually got annoyed because the coffee wasn’t already made.”
Jane smiled softly. “That’s kind of sad.”
“A little.”