Page 56 of Ezra
I don’t give her the satisfaction of looking her in the eye as I mimic a sigh of my own. “No.”
“Are you sure about that?” Katrina exclaims, setting her tablet down. “You’re giving some major heartbreaker vibes right now. I almost feel sorry for her.”
“Almost?” I ask.
She tilts her head with a pointed smile, her eyes intent upon me, betraying her curiosity—her uncertainty. “Almost.”
“Well, I’m not aheartbreaker.”
“Care to spill the tea? Come on, this is a judgment free zone.”
“There’s nothing to spill.”
“Sure there is. Come on. Like I’m going to tell anybody after what we’ve—” She catches herself and turns pink.
I turn toward her, gazing intently at her. My gratification drive yearns for her to say it. Say aloud the line we’ve crossed, without shame. “After what?”
“After what we did the other night, that’s all.” She clears her throat. “I just meant your secret’s safe with me. Silent as the grave.”
Now she sounds like Jayne. I’m one of the only ones allowed to listen in on girl talk at the office. Rashelle tells me plenty too. I run my hand through my synthetic hair. “Do I have a say in this?”
“Not really, no, you’re stuck,” she teases. “Of course you have a say. You don’t have to answer, but...I’ve never met a sexually active android on the single scene. Is it the same nightmare for you that it is for us?”
“Maybe.” This isn’t something I anticipated. Katrina Carson is curious aboutmyprivate life. My gratification drive is eating it up. “What do you want to know?”
“What’s your body count?”
“I don’t have a body count,” I answer, now genuinely confused. “I go out of my way to make sure I never kill people.”
“No, no. Body count, as in how many women you’ve slept with,” she says.
My gratification drive surges when I don’t expect it to, pushing me to answer the question, and I have to push back, bewildered. “That’s—” It’s taking more effort to keep the information to myself than normal. “That’s classified.”
Katrina smirks. “Are you actually embarrassed?”
“I most certainly am not. There’s nothing to cause me any embarrassment. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious. You seem like you’re programmed to keep everything close to the vest,” Katrina says. “And it’s nosy, but I want to know.”
My processors warm at the prospect, my thoughts propelled forward by intrigue. Investigation, sharing knowledge, information. These are all things I was programmed for.
“Four,” I reply at last, folding my arms.
She blinks at me, surprised. “Four?”
I try to get a read on her response. Evidence inconclusive. “Yes. Four.”
“Huh.” The corners of her mouth turn down, and she shrugs. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” I repeat, squinting at her.
“Well, yeah. I honestly would’ve thought it might be higher, with how well-designed you are.” She ruffles her pixie cut.
“Well-designed?”
“You know, hot.” She barrels on quickly. “And that’s over—let’s see—a couple years? You were activated first in ’67.”
I’m still trying to process that she just referred to me as hot. “Three years ago.”
