I examine the three copy-pasted women sitting in front of me.

They all look pretty and high class, like a group of celebrities. In fact, I get this vague feeling that I have seen this woman somewhere before.

Striking a conversation with such elegant beauties would be awkward, but my future is at stake here. It’s sink or swim!

“A-ah, um... hi. I’m Nick.”

My throat is a desert, words hardly flow through it. Despite my attempt to deliver a friendly smile, I think my expression is still stiff and serious.

“Hey there, I’m Julia.”

“Nice to meet, Laura here.”

“Mary.”

Despite being replicas of each other, their replies are considerably different.

These women, or androids, must have been programmed to be slightly different from each other. Perhaps there’s some element of random behaviour, can’t say for sure.

If this test has anything at all to do with QA testing, then my focus should probably be on exposing “bugs” with the “product”. Therefore, rather than “finding the human”, this exam can be approached as “spotting inhuman behaviour in the androids”.

Since there’s very little data to work with right now, all I can do is shoot at random and hope to learn something from it.

“You, uh...”

I point at the woman to my right.

... what was her name again? I’m really bad with names, huh.

While nervously looking around, I spot three labeled signs positioned on the floor, numbered “1”, “2” and “3”; each stands in front of a woman.

“No.1.”

“Yes?”

The woman to my right responds to the call. As I suspected, these labels can be used to address them

“Um... er, what is your profession?”

“My profession? Why, it’s to ensure that you fail this test and never get the job.”

“Wha-!?”

I almost fall from the chair in shock; some people crack a laugh at my reaction.

Her reply was so astonishingly perfect that I’m dumbstruck. Not only it sounded natural, but her answer also had a thorny flavor to it. It’s incredibly hard to believe that she’s a mere android.

However, it’s too early to jump on conclusions. For now, I’ll just remember that No.1 is a suspect for being the human.

“No.2... uh, are you... a human?”

“Of course I am. You are a machine though, aren’t you? I mean, you can hardly form a single sentence properly.”

“Gr...”

I grit my teeth at her mockery. I’m nervous, okay!? Don’t go rubbing that in my face!

This woman is too good. She is completely composed, confident and has a sharp tongue; her defense is flawless.

Next is No.3... actually, nah.

I’ll ignoring No.3 and focus on questioning No.1 and No.2. Maybe giving only No.3 the cold shoulder would lead to something. Indeed, I’m grasping at straws here.

The next question is posed to No.1. Same as before, she replies in a sharp, poisonous manner. No.2 does the same afterwards.

No matter what I ask or which cheap mind trick I attempt, these women don’t stumble at all. They retain flawless composure and whip at me with snarky remarks.

Ignoring No.3 doesn’t lead anywhere either. She just stays quiet and observes our interactions, without showing any apparent signs of displeasure.

The more I interact with them, the more I get this tickling feeling that I know this cloned woman from somewhere. But even if she truly is a celebrity of some kind, unlike my sister I’m not strong with pop culture.

“Ten minutes left.”

Charles announces loudly.

Half of the time flew by and I still have no idea which one is the human. Damn!

At this point, I begin growing desperate and a little paranoid.

What if they lied to me about the situation? Maybe all of them are actually humans, as unlikely as that sounds. Alternatively, they could all be androids.

Instead of wasting time being paranoid, I try to turn my strategy around.

These chicks sure can answer questions fluently. But, how would they fare with asking their own questions?

“No.3.”

“Finally remembered that I exist?”

She asks in a playful tone as she pierces me with her blue eyes.

“Ask me something. Anything will do.”

“Anything? Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah, anything.”

I gulp. Brrr, it’s suddenly cold in here.

“Then, hmm...”

She puts one finger on her lips and looks around. Then, she suddenly turns to me and looks directly into my eyes.

“Say, are you a virgin?”

“Bah!?”

Goddammit, you bitch!

Laughter spreads in the room and some whispers break around. I can feel my cheeks and ears getting hot, I hope I don’t look like a tomato.

“I... gah.”

There are rocks stuck in my throat which must be coughed out. Under these circumstances, I have no choice but to lie.

“O-of course not!”

My answer comes through gritted teeth. Giving this woman the wheel was a mistake; A HUGE mistake.

If she is in control of asking the questions, in control of the conversation’s direction... HELL NO! It’s suicide!

There must be another way, some method assault her and to deliver an unexpected blow.

Thinking of it, there are websites which allow you to chat with an AI. I remember messing around with those some years ago for the giggles.

The main “inhuman” aspect of the AI was its lack of “memory”. For example, asking for its name multiple times throughout the same conversation would yield different results.

The bad news is that these three snarky women are undoubtedly superior to the web AIs I chatted with. Still, if I ask for their names and some respond differently from the introduction - it’d be a closed case.

... do I even remember the names they gave out?

I think one of them was Julia? The others... ehh... err... gah.

“Five minutes left.”

Charles makes another unpleasant announcement.

It’s hopeless.

I hang my head and press the back of my hand against my forehead. Time is running out and I’m losing it.

The situation is desperate, but I need to squeeze the utmost from these last five minutes. First, I calm down. Then, I begin analyzing my options.

Just a few minutes ago, No.3 clearly exhibited that she remembers being neglected all this time. Either these androids really possess memory, or she is the human.

Even if I did remember their names and asked to restate them, they’d probably perfectly remember them. It’s funny how bad I’m at remembering names, that even androids might be better than me.

... wait.

Better than me?

Yeah, they could potentially have a better short-termed memory than me. Or rather, a better short-termed memory than the average human in general.

“Ah!”

I raise my head and look at No.3.

That might be it!

Even if these androids were designed based on a real human, there isn’t much point in restricting the android’s memory to be as bad as the human’s, is there?

Then, what if I flip the strategy around? Rather than trying to find a flaw in the android’s memory, how about finding one in the human’s?

“No.3.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember the third question I asked No.1?”

“Hmm... I think it was: ‘What color is your underwear?’ “

“Gah!”

That’s not the time for stupid jokes, dang it!

Some people laugh out loud at the blatant lie and I can hardly maintain my own frustrated laughter as well.

“Seriously, do you remember or not!?”

“Okay, okay, sheesh. It was: ‘Do you like ice cream?’”

“Good.”

I do remember asking No.1 such a random question. I’m not sure whether it was her third or fourth question, but this is close enough for me.

“No.1, what was the fourth question I asked No.2?”

“Hmm... I think it was: ‘Can you prove that you are a human?’”

“Bingo.”

I’m not really sure, but I think that’s correct. Either way, I can’t fluster now; I have to keep the offense going.

“No.2, what was the seventh question I gave to No.1?”

“That...”

She opens her lips for an answer but words don’t come out.

“It was: ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’”

She smirks as she answers, but I reject it.

“C’mon, what was it? Do you remember?”

“...”

She bites her lips and looks aside, seemingly puzzled.

“No.3, could you answer that?”

“Yeah, it was: ‘Do you think robots have a soul?’”

No.3 answers easily, while No.2 is fidgeting.

This is it.

It’s game over for her.

Unless she’s playing some sort of evil mastermind tricks on me, it must be her...!

“It’s No.2. She’s the human.”