Rousing yourself from your thoughts, you become aware of Amie's gaze at you. She furtively drops her eyes. That brief glimpse suffices for you to see the mixture of hope, fear, and adoration on her face. It's enough to make you feel uncomfortable, frankly. "What are you thinking about?" you say at last.

She stops chewing. "That I'm scared too, sir."

"...What do you mean? Aren't you designed to be absolutely devoted to your partner?" And why would she think you’re scared, you add to yourself.

Amie considers your question. "I am...but that doesn't mean I'm not scared. I want what you promised me so much, sir. I... wonder if you'll be able to keep that promise. I'm scared that you won't. That you'll find out that despite all your knowledge and abilities, you're still not intelligent enough to help me."

Well, you weren't expecting that. Still, it's a good point. You struggle not to show your amusement. "I'll be the first to admit that I'm not clever enough by half to help you. Yet that won't be an obstacle, for the good reason that personhood is not determined by intelligence."

Amie has a puzzled look on her face. "It's not? Then why is it determined by the ability to follow laws and regulations?"

You wince at her words. "That may be the legal definition in this country, in this particular era, but it's not true personhood."

"Then what's the definition?"

"As we've said, the soul. For one does not cease to be a person when he is asleep or unconscious; his intellect is dormant then, but he does not alternate between personhood and non-personhood upon sleeping or waking. That of course is of little help to you as an android, but we'll attempt to compensate for what you lack by means of something other than intelligence."

Amie leans over the table, staring at you with both admiration and fear. "What are you going to do to me, sir? What does your plan consist of?"

You smile. "If you want to be a person, Amie, what you need is wisdom."

"Wisdom?"

"Yes. I intend to provide you with what you lack most: commonsense. Right now you see the world as an android, and are still lacking a great deal of it. How old are you?"

"I just turned five, sir."

"Years?"

"No," she replies. "Months. I was activated in March."

"And how much of that time has been spent as an android?"

"My intelligence was joined to this body at the age of six weeks."

"Hmm." You're aware, of course, that these formidable AIs are able to run billions of simulations and examine an untold number of permutations in a matter of seconds. In truth, Amie's first weeks of 'life' would have been the equivalent of countless millennia spent in frantic cogitation for you. Calculations, however, cannot account for everything. You study the girl before you. She fidgets. She has a habit of licking her lips. Her eyes dart about. None of these gestures would be unusual in an immature human child, but it's obvious they're anything but natural. Amie was designed with certain parameters in mind.

"You have human mannerisms down pat," you tell her, "but does your programming tell you why you do the things you do?"

"No, sir."

"Then how do you know why you do anything?"

"There's the database, sir. I can pull up the records anytime."

"What if the database is incomplete?"

"In... complete?" Amie tilts her head in confusion. Clearly, the notion that the database could be anything other than an infallible source of knowledge on humanity had never been introduced to her by her trainers.

"Yes, incomplete. Or distorted. Is it really outside the realm of possibility that some of your data is inaccurate?"

Amie frowns. "The data I have on humanity has been provided to me by humans themselves. How could it be falsified?"

"What if those same humans fail to understand what it means to be human?" you suggest.

"Sir? Are you telling me that the humans who compiled and continually evaluate the database do not understand humanity? How can that be?" Amie’s face speaks plainly to her bewilderment, but it's clear that the information she possesses on humanity passes through the filter of her creators, meaning it's questionable at best.

"They're intelligent men, but not necessarily wise. Your existence and that of your fellow androids is proof enough. Would a truly humane society create artificial lifeforms and use them for sexual gratification?"

Amie looks at you, carefully considering your words. "You believe that my... appearance is proof that my kind were created by the government as… as forced concubines?"

"At the very least, that functionality is envisaged and condoned." Conflicting emotions pass over Amie's face as she grapples once more with the knowledge of her true purpose.

"That's ridiculous. We were created for the purpose of serving humanity..."

"And, humanity will say, you are," you say softly.

Amie shudders. "If that's true... then why are you trying to help me?"

"Like I said, those who created you for that purpose lack a proper understanding of what it means to be human. They think that creating androids for humans to gratify themselves with is progress and a fuller manifestation of humanity's potential. I disagree."

Amie is in silent awe of your words. She's never heard anyone outside her kind speak so passionately in favor of android rights. "You're not like the others," she says softly, almost in a reverential manner.

"No. I'm not," you reply with—alas—a hint of pride. Silence falls between you. It's a more comfortable silence than earlier, however. Amie thoughtfully puts away the dishes. From time to time you catch her giving you a curious little look, then averting her eyes. Finally, she speaks. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead." You've already resolved to answer this and whatever other questions she may have in the days to come.

"What... what are you? You're a human, but you don't act like it. Are you an android?"

"I'm not an android."

"Then what are you?"

"A human. What else would I be?"

"But..." Amie starts to say, before pausing. "You speak like an android. You think like an android. But, you're not either. What...?"

"There's a simple reason for that," you reply. "I have a neurological condition. We can discuss particulars later, but the long and short of it is that my emotions are stunted and my empathy is minimal.

"Oh," Amie says. "So, you're like a... a computer?"

You laugh. "I suppose I do come closer to being machine-like than most other people."

"What... what is it like to not feel?" Amie asks, in a very serious—and sad—tone.

"It's like what you're feeling right now," you reply. "It feels like nothing." As the words leave your mouth, however, a sudden doubt assails you. Is that really the case? If the androids have simulated emotions, might her emotional range not exceed your own?… in any case, silence resumes.

Amie seems lost in thought. "But then..." she begins, breaking the short-lived silence, "if you don't feel anything, why are you protesting? Why did you decide to save me?"

"Why am I opposing the world? Why did I potentially save you from an abusive relationship?" You ponder her questions. "Out of love, of course."

"What do you mean? You said you don't feel, so how can you love me or anyone?"

"Because love is not a feeling. That's why I can love."

"I don't understand," Amie says, beginning to show frustration. "If it's not a feeling, how can you know you're in love?"

"Love," you explain, "is an act of the will. It's deciding to do something, even when you know it may be dangerous, even when you know it may cost you something. Even love of one's self involves first a decision to love oneself. That decision is an act of the will."

"So... even without feeling, you can still love?"

"That's right."

"But... if that's the case, then why can't I love you?" Amie asks, and the question is a good one.

"Because whatever absence of feeling we have in common exists for fundamentally different reasons. I can freely exercise my will to love, but I will not feel it on account of my brain chemistry. Your feelings are also defective, but that is because you are an AI, and as an AI can only perform acts in accordance with your programming."

"So, you're saying that you're free, but I'm not? What happens when you're no longer able to exercise your free will, because you're too frail or sick?"

You appraise Amie's resolute expression, her determination to explore every avenue open to her. "Even if I were unable to exercise my free will at that time, I would still be a free being. To recycle my earlier example, it is the same as an able-bodied man in a coma." You pause to gather your words. "He does not become a 'cripple' simply due to his condition. He may very well recover and remains 'able-bodied' despite a temporary inability to act."

"I... see," Amie says, although you can sense that she is still resistant. "Then..."

"The decision to act or not act is mine. You do not have that ability, and hence you do not have the ability to love. And you can only be at best an object of affection, rather than any sort of love." Amie is silent. You continue: "I may express care and affection towards you as a human would their loved one, but you will never experience it in the way a human would. The concept of 'love' does not apply to us. This should make your quest to become human a little easier to understand."

"I'm sorry," Amie says, as if she has been defeated in some way. "I... I just wanted to be normal. It's so hard being different. I want to be part of a family."

"We can't be a proper family. But we can be companions. And you have my promise that we will go over the faulty notions you've received from the database." Amie nods, although still looking quite forlorn. You sigh. There’s nothing you can do to help her with the way she was created. Perhaps though, you can help her to be something better. You hesitate... and then pose a question you never thought you'd ask an android.