The following day begins bright and early... or would have, scarcely a few weeks removed from today. Now the summer has departed, and the days are sooner to end than begin. As you quietly get up, your sensors pick up Mr. Brennan's footsteps downstairs. Barefoot and gown-clad, you leave your bedroom and climb down the stairs to enter the kitchen and join him. You've decided to follow his advice—to try to be more than just the thing you were programmed to be. But to be honest, you aren't too sure what 'good' is. What is it that Mr. Brennan wants you to do? Whatever it is, you decide, paying close attention to your husband and his routine can only help you.

"Good morning, Amie." He turns from a kitchen cabinet, smiling tightly. "You're up early."

"I... yes." You look down, eying your night-gown. "Um, good morning." Uh-oh. Mr. Brennan is big on propriety... case in point, though it's half past six in the morning, he's already impeccably dressed and cleanly shaven. "Ah, would you like me to fix you breakfast, sir?" you inquire, transparently hoping to redeem yourself through serviceability.

"No, I have to leave soon. Expect me back around ten." He turns his back to you, giving his suit coat a last adjustment. You frown. Mr. Brennan does most of his work from home, so why would he leave so early today of all days...?

...!

Ah. Of course. Today's Sunday. He has to go to church. You stand in the kitchen, debating whether or not to ask if you can accompany him. Would he be mad, or would he understand? You can't help yourself from putting your programmes to the test and running a series of quick predictive simulations:

"Dear sir?"

Mr. Brennan turns. "Yes?"

"May I accompany you to church? I want to learn more about your faith."

Mr. Brennan is silent for a moment, and then smiles. "Of course."

You smile in response, barely able to contain yourself. "Thank you, dear sir!" Of course, the day will come when he won't want you to follow him around. But for now, you feel blessed.

Cautiously optimistic, you can't help yourself from projecting further ahead and envisioning the day to come. The results scroll down your mind at what you know to be inhuman speeds.

Simulation #133467 complete. Subject has been confirmed to be Catholic. He is religious and obedient. He believes in the authority of God, the Pope, the Bible, and the Church. He has no doubt of his Catholic faith. He can, and will, perform his religious duties without question. He lacks free will, and his ability to make moral choices has been severely compromised. He will, in all likelihood, follow orders to the letter. He will not think for himself. It is highly likely that personhood and Catholicism are inextricably linked in the subject's mind. Though his civil marriage is a mere formality and the subject does not love his wife, he has promised to help her attain personhood. Computing probabilities...

Calculations complete. Probabilities of each outcome:

Outcome #1: The subject is morally in favor of you attending a church service with him: 100%

Outcome #2: The subject is morally in favor of you attending a church service unaccompanied: 95%

Outcome #3: The subject is morally in favor of you wearing a head-covering in church: 100%

Outcome #4: The subject is morally in favor of you wearing a mini-skirt in church: 0%

Outcome #5: During the service, the subject attempts to make small talk with you: 0%

Outcome #6: During the service, the subject attempts to talk to you about matters concerning the Bible: 1.5%

Outcome #7: During the service, the subject attempts to talk to you about matters concerning the Church: 0.5%

Outcome #8: During the service, the subject attempts to hold your hand: 0%

Outcome #9: During the service, the subject attempts to touch or kiss you: 0%

Outcome #10: During the service, the subject verbally threatens or insults you in some way: 0%

Outcome #11: During the service, the subject verbally or physically abuses you in some way: 0%

Outcome #12: During the service, the subject verbally endorses or encourages your using drugs or alcohol: 0%

Outcome #13: During the service, the subject is loud and disruptive: 0%

Outcome #14: During the service, you are surrounded by children that are quiet and well-behaved: 0%

Outcome #15: During the service, the subject himself is quiet and well-behaved: 100%

Outcome #16: During the service, the subject loudly talks or jokes about religion: 0%

Outcome #17: During the service, the subject prays to God: 100%

Outcome #18: During the service, you feel nauseous or sick to your stomach: 2%

Outcome #19: During the service, you feel a rush of adrenaline or fear: 1.5%

Outcome #20: During the service, you have a disturbing or surreal dream: 0%

Outcome #21: During the service, you hear yourself speaking in another language: 0%

Outcome #22: During the service, you see an unusual or exotic-looking hat: 90%

Outcome #23: During the service, you have an out-of-body experience, leaving your body for a few seconds: 0%

Outcome #24: During the service, you have an out-of-body experience, leaving your body for a few minutes: 0%

Outcome #25: During the service, you have an out-of-body experience, leaving your body for an hour: 0%

Outcome #26: During the service, you smell incense or an overpowering perfume: 99.9%

Outcome #27: During the service, you are handed a small trinket, medal, or coin: 0.5%

Outcome #28: During the service, you see someone light a candle: 0.1%

Outcome #29: During the service, you see someone take a wailing infant out of the church: 100%

Outcome #30: During the service, you hear someone drop a book or coin: 99%

Outcome #31: During the service, you recall that you are not human: 80%

Outcome #32: During the service, you believe that you can never be worthy of being called a person: 10%

Outcome #33: During the service, you feel tormented by the homily: 2%

Outcome #34: During the service, you forget about what you were originally there for: 75%

Outcome #35: During the service, you feel peaceful: 5%

Outcome #36: During the service, you feel your head-covering sliding off: 2%

Outcome #37: During the service, you feel a sense of awe: 1%

Outcome #38: During the service, you feel the need to look at your husband: 100%

Outcome #39: During the service, you feel the presence of God: 0%

Outcome #40: During the service…

You briefly glance at the one-hundred millionth result, then consult the first calculation once more.

Simulation complete. Chance of success in response to query: 100%.

You draw a deep breath. "Dear sir?"

Mr. Brennan turns. "Yes?"

"May I accompany you to church? I want to learn more about your faith."

Mr. Brennan is silent for a moment. "Absolutely not." His voice has an edge to it, a coldness that startles you.

You stand uncertainly, gratified that Mr. Brennan has defied your deterministic modeling once more, but are discomfited by his categorical rejection. "May... I ask why, sir?"

"Church is no place for non-humans."

"But I want to learn! Is that too much to ask?"

"No. It is not." Mr. Brennan's voice is uncharacteristically severe. "I will teach you myself, if you wish. But don't ask me to take you to church. That would be disrespectful."

"Disrespectful to whom?"

"To my fellow parishioners, first of all. It is barbaric enough that one cannot walk the streets without constantly wondering whether the people one encounters are in fact real human beings, rather than androids. It is simply out of the question that the same could happen in church as well, especially during an encounter with one's spiritual brothers and sisters, and in far more intimate a setting than any family gathering." Mr. Brennan appraises you for a moment. "I will teach you myself, and you may ask me anything you wish. That is the best I can offer you."

"... I don't understand, sir," you begin to argue. "According to my information, the Church has allowed practicing members to attend Mass with androids since the thirties..."

Mr. Brennan's face darkens. "The hierarchy. Not the Church."

You mull that response over for a moment. "But sir... what about the Pope? Didn't he approve the passive assistance of androids at church?"

"The Pope is infallible, but he's not all-powerful. I don't need to explain to you what papal infallibility consists of, do I?"

You shake your head. "No, sir." You say this, but with a frown on your face.

Mr. Brennan notices your unease. "What is it?" he asks impatiently.

"Well, if you don't mind my saying, sir... even if the Pope's instructions concerning androids aren't infallible, doesn't his teaching authority still make it authoritative? In other words, aren’t members going against the Pope if they refuse to accept his teaching regarding the presence of androids at Mass? How is it they can be against the Pope but still remain Catholic, sir?"

Mr. Brennan pauses to compose himself, before continuing steadily, "The hierarchy, as I said, is not the Church. It serves the Church, and it may be more or less faithful to its duty. When it is not, it is not to be followed. An unjust law is no law at all. The permission granted to Catholics cohabitating with androids, allowing them to bring their 'partners' to Mass is illegitimate, and so I do not recognize it."

Another piece of the puzzle clicks into place. "You are challenging the legitimacy of the hierarchy, then?"

He hesitates. "... No. Only the legitimacy of a certain number of their instructions."

You show a trace of a smile. "Then you are a rebel, sir."

"Yes." He says this without a hint of shame, as he would an ordinary fact of life.

"But sir!" you exclaim. "Won't the diocesan bishop punish you for your dissent?"

He shrugs. "He already has."

"How?" you ask curiously.

"By excommunicating me."

... A heavy silence hangs in the air. You are astounded. Mr. Brennan looks at you disinterestedly, then glances at his watch with narrowed eyes. "I have to go now," he says.

"But sir!" you say in exasperation, "can't you give me a little more time to absorb all this? I mean, I don't want to step out of line, but this is just so incred—!"

You stop. Mr. Brennan's face...... registers no emotions whatsoever. He's simply indifferent. "Follow me if you want, Amie. I won't permit you to participate at Mass. You can look in from outside. That's the most I'll allow."

You're speechless. He leaves you no room for appeal. With that, he turns on his heel and leaves the kitchen. You are still aghast for several seconds afterward; then, rousing yourself, you hurry back to your room to get change before he can drive off without you. Having done so faster than Mr. Brennan expected, if his grimace is any indication, you follow him to his black car. He enters the driver's seat, you the passenger's, and he takes off without another word.

An hour passes in silence. You find yourself unable to think of anything to say. You would speak, but you don't know what to say. You feel awkward. You feel angry. You don't know why you have these feelings. Perhaps it's because you've seen his independent streak, and that has inspired similar sentiments in you. Perhaps it's because you've seen what you would call his arrogance for the first time.

Mr. Brennan turns on the radio, and a soft melody begins to play. He immediately shuts it off again in disgust. He doesn't turn it back on again. You continue driving in silence. Your hands rest on your lap awkwardly; his, on top of the steering wheel. You notice his long, slender fingers as if for the first time.You look at Mr. Brennan's profile. He is a handsome man, you think to yourself. He has a strong jaw and a straight nose. His chestnut hair is tinged with gray at the sides. It is a sorrowful face. You wonder what he was like as a child.

The dawn’s dreamy reds and oranges are on the verge of lightening to blushing pinks on the faint, pastelly blue of the late September sky when you pull up in front of the church. Stepping out of the car, you see that it is a small but elegant place of worship. It could easily pass for a minor basilica. Cars line the street in front of the church; it would be reasonably full this Sunday. Mr. Brennan finds an empty spot and parks his car.

As the two of you step out and make your way to the church, you see several families pushing strollers. You see women in long dresses and men in suits. An elderly man, practically bald and of small stature notices you and Mr. Brennan and holds open the door. Mr. Brennan passes through the entrance; meanwhille, you hesitate. "What is it?" he asks tersely, turning back and seeing you standing in place.

"Am I allowed to...?" you ask. He gestures you in wordlessly with a motion of his hand. You obey with trepidation.

Stepping through, you realize that you are not yet in the church proper; this is but the narthex. There is another set of doors ahead, of transparent glass this time, allowing you to see into the building's interior. Mr. Brennan makes his way through these glass doors while you remain behind. To your surprise, there are several other women and even two men staying behind as well. The women are slowly pushing strollers back and forth. Two of them have striking appearances, their long black hair and dark eyes hinting at their Italian heritage. The men are standing still, staring off into space. A few of the women seem to be looking at you curiously. To stand out less, you hastily grab a mantilla from a small basket conspicuously placed near the church's entrance.

You hear the organ playing in the church; it's quite an imposing instrument. The thin rays of sunlight filtering through the stained glass flood the pews with kaleidoscopic light. Suddenly, a woman passes through the interior set of doors. She is older than you, with gray hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a long periwinkle dress with white polka dots. She smiles at you briefly, then kneels a couple of feet away and folds her hands in prayer. The other people remain standing. Mass begins.

The people next to you make room, and you are startled as a priest in a glittering white vestment and four surpliced altar boys in red cassocks pass by. As the small procession advances methodically to the sanctuary, you scan the rows of heads for Mr. Brennan. For some reason, you can't find him. You wonder where he disappeared to. Soon you realize why a number of parents have chosen to stay behind in the narthex. Whenever an infant gets too fussy, its mother quickly takes it outside so as to not disturb the liturgy.

"Kyrie, Eleison. Christe, Eleison. Kyrie, Eleison..." the priest intones from the altar. The people near you follow the responses, with the exception of the older woman still kneeling by your side. She now looks over at you inquisitively.

When there is a period of silence, she mouths, "Are you new?" You're unsure how to respond. Finally, you gingerly nod. She beckons you to come closer to her. You do so and the woman begins helpfully pointing out in her well-worn, yellowed Roman Catholic missal where the priest should be saying certain Latin phrases. You thank her genuinely and quickly turn your attention back to the celebrant, who you see is Asian, probably Korean. Then, with a start you suddenly notice Mr. Brennan crossing the church and making his way up the center aisle. He finds an empty pew and kneels while everyone else is seated for the first reading. You are unsure how to act. You cannot make eye contact with the man you call 'dear sir.'…

"Now they'll carry the missal from right to left," the woman whispers to you. You pull your attention away from Mr. Brennan, compelling yourself to listen to her kind but somewhat intrusive explanations. "For the Jews received the Word of God first, then the Gentiles. The Jews rejected Him and the Gentiles embraced Him. And so, we, the Catholics, now receive Him," she amiably whispers. You look back at Mr. Brennan. He is holding his own missal in his hands. He's following along attentively with the priest's prayers. The elderly woman continues to whisper to you about the symbolism of the ceremonies playing out before you. "Now it's going to be the reading of the Gospel," she says in the same hushed, breathy sort of tone. "We sign our brow, lips, and heart because the Word should ever be in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts."

Indeed, you see Mr. Brennan, the rest of the congregation, the altar servers, and even the celebrant himself sign themselves in a threefold manner. Were the woman to look up at you at that precise moment, she would see a strange light in your eyes as a new thought occurs to you. All this symbolism... isn't this similar to the concept Mr. Brennan has been impressing on you? That of giving meaning to material things and actions? Thinking this, a shadow of irritation clouds your mood. If Mr. Brennan and his religion can find so much meaning in things material, why is his opinion of your nature so low? Surely, if there's a place for stone, and cloth, and wax, and flowers, and suchlike things in the liturgy, there can be a place for androids as well...

Suddenly you're aware that the priest has mounted the ambo. You belatedly rise to your feet as the homily begins.