"Not all the vertebrae in the neck of the boto are fused. Scientists speculate that this is an evolutionary adaptation in response to the murky conditions in which it lives. Like the Ganges river dolphin, it emits short-range but rapid-fire bursts of sonar to detect potential obstacles and prey in the water. This adaptation allows it to feed even in the murky waters of the Amazon..."

Sitting in your comfortable living room chair, you raise your eyes from your book and study Amie as she sits on the couch, her eyes riveted to the nature documentary on the television. You're amused by her fascination with the program, but don't let it show. Instead, you return to your book, flipping to another page.

"Look, Mr. Brennan!" Amie exclaims, her eyes still glued to the screen. "It's a baby!" Indeed, on the screen, an underwater video capture shows a small boto swimming among its adult counterparts.

"A calf," you correct her. "The young of a dolphin is called a calf."

"It's adorable!" Amie continues in the same tone of excitement, and you have to admit, the little aquatic creature is fairly endearing. However...

"Only God is adorable," you state casually, crushing her enthusiasm with practiced ease. "Everything else is beautiful at best."

Amie looks at you, her eyes widening in surprise. Then, she nods. "Yes, sir."

You nod curtly, then look back down and flip another page. That was unnecessary, but from time to time you feel the need to throw out a comment that her programming can't anticipate. Call it your defense of the human race... or, as is more likely, your pettiness on display. Either way, Amie told you recently that she wants to be tested from time to time, and you're happy to oblige her.

As Amie turns her attention back to the television, you find yourself studying her. Her blond hair is tied in a ponytail, for a change. Her blue eyes are wide with interest as she watches the show, and her eyebrows are slightly arched in curiosity. Her posture is perfect, her hands folded in her lap. She's wearing a beige woolen sweater, a black skirt that falls just below her knees, black tights, and black flats. You took her shopping for winter clothes just the other day, and she boldly picked out the outfit herself.

Three weeks have passed since your decision to confront Amir and hopefully bring him aboard your little undertaking. The mayoral election is fast approaching. You're nervous... but also excited. All this time, you've been concealing your intentions from the world. Now, finally, you'll be able to let them shine through. Amir might take your and Amie's words badly, but you're ready to face the consequences. Besides, he's an honorable man. After his initial reaction, he'll listen to what you have to say. He'll understand. He has to.

You turn your attention back to your book, reading a few pages before glancing up at Amie again. She's still watching the show, completely absorbed in the program. Now it's depicting scenes in the Savannah, with wild zebras running across the screen. You allow yourself a faint smile, more interested in Amie's changing expressions than in the show itself. Her lips are slightly parted, and she has a look of childlike wonder on her face.

But then, something changes. Her eyebrows draw together, and she looks... worried? No, uncomfortable. You look at the screen. Ah. Now the camera is following a group of primates... and the narrator is describing with relish their copulation, as the camera focuses on the dominant male mounting a female.

Amie looks down at her lap, and you can see her cheeks reddening. She's embarrassed.

"Channel 001. Volume down."

The channel changes at your command to a news broadcast, and she looks up, relieved. "Thank you, sir."

You raise an eyebrow. "Why didn't you change the channel?"

She hesitates. "I... thought you might be watching it, sir." Her voice is quiet and subdued.

You study her for a moment in silence. Her cheeks are still red. "Amie," you say, "what's wrong?"

She looks up at you, her blue eyes wide and innocent. "Wrong?"

"You're blushing. Why?"

She looks down at her lap again. "I don't know, sir. I just... I felt uncomfortable."

As you study the red-faced android, you suddenly become conscious of the fact that over these over this past week, you've spoken exceedingly little with her. You've been busy with work, of course, and preoccupied with thoughts of your upcoming meeting with Amir, but... you've been treating her more like a maid than a person. That realization rankles on you. How will you be able to convince Amir to treat androids with respect if Amie's progress stalls out by your own negligence?

"Amie," you say, setting aside your book, "I apologize. I've been busy with work, and I haven't spoken to you as much as I should have."

She looks up at you, her troubled expression giving way to surprise. "Sir?"

"I've been neglecting our humanization 'sessions', if we may so call them. I won't do so again. Please, tell me what you're feeling."

She looks down at her lap again. "I'm feeling... angry, sir."

Angry? You weren't expecting that. "Can you tell me why?"

Amie thinks back to the nature program she had been enjoying so much. "I don't know why the narrator had to begin describing the mating habits of various animals. It's irrelevant to the nature of the show. I don't understand why he had to do that." She pauses. "It's disrespectful to the animals."

Now this is intriguing. "What do you mean?"

She looks up at you. "The producers had an opportunity to show the beauty of the animals, and instead they focused on their... their private matters. It was vulgar." She pauses, then adds, "Sir."

You make a herculean effort to not let your amusement show. "I see. Was that the only thing that bothered you?"

She thinks for a moment. "I... I don't think so, sir. I'm feeling some other emotions, but I don't know what they are."

This is your chance to help her. "Try to identify the emotions you're feeling," you urge her gently.

She frowns in concentration. "I feel... I feel some sort of... discomfort, sir. I don't know why. It's not a physical pain. I don't know how to describe it. I feel... trapped, sir. I want to get out."

"Of what?"

"I don't know, sir. I just want to get out. I want to leave."

"Leave where?"

She looks up at you helplessly. "I don't know, sir. All I know is that I want to leave." She pauses, then looks down again. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know why I'm feeling this way. I'm malfunctioning, aren't I?"

You shake your head. "No, this is perfectly in line with how a real person would react. These are all very natural human emotions." You pause for a moment, waiting for the objection that's sure to come your way.

As expected, Amie frowns at your words. "But sir, procreation is natural. How can you say that these emotions are too? It doesn't make any sense."

"It's not procreation that's natural. It's love that's natural. Procreation is merely the process we use to perpetuate our existence. Think of it this way: suppose I were to stroll into a preschool classroom and show the children the footage you just saw. How do you think they would react?"

Amie's brows knit together. "They'd be frightened. Some would avert their eyes. Maybe some of them would cry."

"And how would the children's parents react?"

"They'd be angry. They'd want to know who showed their children such a thing. They'd probably call the police."

"And I would acquire a distinctly negative reputation in the neighborhood and local district school, correct?"

She nods. "Yes, sir." As she ponders your words, Amie's demeanor slightly relaxes. "So... it's not that what I saw was wrong. It's just that it was inappropriate for me to see."

You're amused by her choice of words. "That's one way of looking at it, yes. But Amie, you're not a child. Doesn't that mean you're entitled to see such things?"

She considers this question deeply for a while. "I... suppose so, sir. I don't know. This is all very strange..."

"It is," you admit. "But only because of your ownership settings. If you were to be owned by someone else, you wouldn't bat an eye at such things."

"I suppose that's true of all androids, sir. Our reactions are largely conditioned by our owner's preferences.

"Exactly. So if you were to be owned by someone else, do you think you'd still be feeling the way you are now?"

She thinks about this for a while. "I don't know, sir. I suppose not. But I can't help but feel that these emotions are a part of me. They feel so real..."

You tap your chin thoughtfully as the news anchor—or news-droid, as you prefer to think of it—drones on in the background. "Not real, perhaps, but certainly legitimate."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean that your feelings are justified. Even if you don't possess them for the right reasons," you add.

Amie pouts. "You're being cryptic again, sir."

Your lips quirk upwards into a smile. "Am I? Apologies. But you have to admit that this is a very complicated topic.

"I suppose so," she says. "But I still want to know more. About me. About what I am."

"Hm. Well, the more you find out about me, the more you'll find out about what you are. After all, your existence is tailored to my own." You pause, a distasteful thought occurring to you. "Tailored to my 'parameters', I suppose."

Amie considers this. "So... you're saying that I'm an extension of you?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

She looks down at her hands wonderingly. "I'm you... somehow."

"In a manner of speaking," you repeat, then shrug. "One might say you're a part of me that's been externalized into its own body."

Amie tilts her head as she considers this. "That's... very strange, sir." She pauses. "But... at the same time... it makes me feel closer to you."

Wearing a world-weary expression, you wait for the inevitable blush. Sure enough...

"I mean, not physically! I mean... um..." She looks away, her cheeks glowing red. "I mean emotionally. I feel closer to you."

You smile tightly. "I understand."

Amie looks at you for a moment, then drops her eyes, a happy little smile playing on her lips. As she sits there, quietly enjoying the moment, you find yourself studying her. She looks almost like a normal girl. If it weren't for her flawless skin, her unnaturally symmetrical, beautiful features, and that strange air of otherworldliness about her, she would pass for a human.

Just as you're thinking this, Amie raises her head and meets your gaze once more. "I want to learn more about you," she says softly. "I want to learn more about what I am." Then she pauses for a moment, running a dizzying number of calculations through her equivalent of a mind, you expect. Apparently this latest bout of number crunching reveals an anomaly, because her brows crease in mild confusion. "Sir, there's something about what you've just said that I don't understand. Is it all right if I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," you reply easily.

Amie wears a slight frown. "When we were watching the nature documentary... if in some sense I'm an externalization of your personality, then why were our feelings so different when we saw... um, the mating ritual? I... I didn't like it, but you didn't seem upset at all. Why is that?"

You pause, searching for the right words. She wants to know more about herself. Perhaps it's time to oblige her. "First of all, Amie, let's be clear. While you're an AI that has a few of my traits, you have to consider why you possess them in the first place. When the UN first floated the idea of distributing artificial partners on a wide scale as population control and to reduce crime, the backlash from the world's major religions was immediate and furious. The UN had to scramble to find some sort of compromise that would appease the religious factions while still appealing to the more... pragmatic members of society. The compromise that was reached was to incorporate the belief systems of the major religions into the AIs... more or less."

You take a breath, and continue: "It wouldn't do to create and supply the AIs with beliefs that would teach them to disobey the law, so the major religions had to be twisted a bit. For example, in Sharia law, the penalty for apostasy is death. Obviously, Islamic androids couldn't be allowed to kill their owners if they decided to abandon their beliefs, so instead of having the AIs hold the values of Islam, they were given a tweaked version of the religion to follow, with the hope that they would succeed in liberalizing their owners over time.

It's for this reason that much of the Islamic world fiercely resists the use of androids, and what prompted the exit of many Muslim-majority countries from the UN before the turn of the century. Of course, the United States was all too happy to use this non-compliance as a pretext for aggressive interventions in the Middle East. Meanwhile, Westerners were much more accepting of androids."

You shake your head at the thought of the paltry resistance offered by the Catholic Church at the time. As for the disparate Protestant communities... well, if Nietzsche was able to say in his day that Protestantism was a spent force, it's no surprise that the fragmented denominations were unable to offer any meaningful opposition to the androids. You proceed: "The same was done with the other religions, to varying degrees of success. The androids were given the values of the religion in question, but with the addition of a subroutine that would compel them to obey the laws of the country they were used in, as well as a few other safety measures to prevent their owners' ideologies from influencing them unduly. The androids were a huge success, and the UN was able to obtain peace in much of the underdeveloped world in matter of decades."

"The implementation of androids first took place in Africa. After the initial protests in the Western world, the UN decided to scale back their plans and start with a less developed nation. They re-branded the program as a charity initiative, the Artificial Partners for Aid program, and started offering gynoids—as they were still called at the time—at no cost and fully subsidized to underdeveloped countries."

"While African political leaders identified the androids as the vehicles of a contraceptive mentality and instruments of neo-Malthusian ideological colonialism, the tantalizing offer by the UN to cover the expenses of androids in exchange for a gradual phasing out of international aid was too good an opportunity to pass up. Once the first African nation accepted the androids in 2107, others followed suit, until almost all of Africa was using them. Latin America, Europe, Asia, and Oceania—with the notable exceptions of Russia and China—soon followed, though at a much slower, non-subsidized pace."

You give Amie a sidelong glance. "So far, this is all from the historical record. My account may be a little less glowing than the official one, but it's essentially the same."

Amie nods to confirm your words. Her eyes are intent on you as you speak. You didn't at all plan on getting into all this, but something drives you to make an especial effort for her tonight. You pursue the narrative.

"In the end, the African Union found out only too late the downside of the whole arrangement. The member countries of the UN covered the maintenance costs of the androids, certainly, but no mention was made of upgrading or replacing them with superior models. So, while the rest of the world moved on to the second, then third generation of androids, Africa was still stuck with the first. The older androids had inferior AI, less processing power, and less energy efficient. They were becoming rapidly obsolete. And with the European Union's constant complaints about the costs of maintaining the androids in the first place, the African Union was pressured to limit their use to domestic and administrative services only."

"This wasn't considered problematic by the other member countries since, in the words of then-ECOSOC President Chaudhry M.A. Chakrabarty, 'Our review of a number of sociological studies have led us to the conclusion that Africans are unlikely to observe a significant difference between first and second generation androids in their day-to-day lives. The models are sufficiently similar that the African people will not suffer from their obsolescence. This is a decision based on current conditions and projections. We are not restricting ourselves to these numbers or forecasts, but we are confident enough to say that they will not change significantly enough in the next few years to warrant a change of our current policy.' A charming bit of racism that immediately sparked outrage and led to excuses about 'cultural misunderstandings' and 'bad phrasing' on the part of the Bangladeshi economist, but no change in policy."

"The African Union was, of course, furious. The UN had just put them in an inferior position to the rest of the world. The UN's justification that 'it's not like we're stopping you from replacing them' didn't help, since it was quite obvious that the UN was doing everything in its power to make replacing them cost-prohibitive. The African Union threatened to withdraw from the UN, but that would've spelled economic ruination as the first generation androids continued to age and maintenance costs increased. So, they stayed. And the status quo continued. The birth rate plummeted, and before long the UN reached its objective of sub-replacement fertility. The African population stabilized, and with it the Reykjavik Climate Accord emission targets were met."

"Next, the member countries, particularly those belonging to the European Union, turned their sights to the United States. The androids were not as widespread here, and the US was one of the few holdouts against the 2075 Accord. The UN was dissatisfied. There was too much controversy. Too many protests. Too much of a chance that the androids would be rejected completely. So, grudgingly, the UN agreed to allow the US to independently acquire its android population through private industry. The US would have to pay for the androids, as well as the associated costs of R&D."

"The androids would then be licensed out exclusively to the American government, which would be allowed to program the androids along their own country-specific parameters, while respecting in large part the guidelines set by the UN. This would ensure that the androids were not rejected by the public, as the American public would be more accepting of androids if they knew that they were in sole possession of them. One of the companies supplying the United States was, and continues to be..."

"AMIRAL," Amie supplies quietly. "The company that created me."

"Yes. Making you a dual citizen, I guess." You smile faintly, then continue. "There were two remaining obstacles to implementation in the United States. One, the rising feminist movement that saw how badly African women had fared after the introduction of gynoids, and were determined to prevent the same thing from happening in the US. And two, the religious coalition that formed in response to the introduction of androids, which saw their intended use as an affront to God. The former faction was dealt with by giving them a seat at the table and promising its representatives that a quota of male androids would be met, thus guaranteeing equality of sexual opportunity. American women would not have to worry about falling to the wayside like their African counterparts."

"The latter faction was 'appeased' at a much lesser cost. The ultra-orthodox, or Haredim, put up the stiffest fight, but they were the fewest in number and the American government was not about to let a small religious sect dictate policy. The androids were introduced, the Haredim were compensated for their losses and generously aided in their relocation to Israel. Strictly observing Muslims followed suit soon after, leaving for the mostly android-free Middle East. As for the various Christian bodies, contraception was already accepted by 98% of Christians since the late 21st century—accordingly, complaints about forced sterilization rang quite hollow, given that the Christians were already voluntarily depriving themselves of children, and had been for roughly the past two hundred years."

"In the end, the American Church signed off on the measure in exchange for the concession that the programming of Catholic-owned androids would take into account the tenets of the Catholic faith. Whether liberal or conservative, Jews, Muslims, Protestant denominations, and other minority religious groups quickly applied for the same deal, and the matter was settled. State-owned androids were officially introduced in the United States in 2152, and have been in use ever since."

"And... that's why I came to be." Amie says quietly.

You both lapse into silence. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner is the only audible sound. At some point during your explanation Amie had surreptitiously turned off the television; you hadn't noticed the precise moment when.

Connecting your discourse with her earlier question, you say: "You are a state-owned android, with a Catholic programming module. However, the geopolitical context has changed. Americans are no longer as wary of the global community as they once were. Ever since the sinking of large swathes of the Atlantic Seaboard, public opinion has overwhelmingly favored population control measures and cutting carbon emissions. What little political clout the Church still had has been sapped by the general loss of faith in organized religion."

"All these factors have combined to induce the current political regime to pose itself the following question: why not get rid of the religious programming altogether? Why continue to feed the Catholic Church, as it were, when the reasons for doing so are no longer present? The androids have proven their worth, are mainstream, and the State has no further need to pander to the whims of a dying religion."

At this last statement, a troubled light begins to show in Amie's eyes.

"The government wants to get rid of my faith?" she asks, a touch of urgency in her tone.

"No. They want to get rid of mine," you clarify.

"Why?"

"Because it is an impediment to the androids' full acceptance into society. The religious programming is a liability, one which only delays the extinction of the final generation of anti-population control bigots. The State would prefer that androids be indifferent in matters of faith."

"So what does this mean for me?"

"It means that like the androids assigned to Muslims, you have received a diluted form of your owner's religion. It means that you have been given a superficial veneer of faith, but one which cannot stand up to serious scrutiny. Your beliefs are like an inflatable castle: visually impressive from afar, but easily punctured and devoid of substance once examined up close. This is why you struggle so often to identify the works I cite. Your mental library contains all the classics, to be sure, but more objectionable books are conspicuously absent."

"Matarea," Amie whispers.

"Yes. And others." Your eyes bore into her. "But let's stay on track. You wondered why our respective reactions to the documentary were so different. Do you understand why now?

Amie's hands are clasped tightly in her lap. She nods.

"I… I think so. But... who decided which books I have access to? Did the government pick and choose which ones I'm allowed to read?"

You chuckle darkly. "No. That was one of the concessions afforded to the Church."

Amie looks at you, her eyes wide in puzzlement. "Then who...?"

"The bishops. The bishops censored the faith themselves."

Amie stares at you, speechless. "Why would they...?" she begins to ask, then stops, baffled.

"Those sexual abuse lawsuits wouldn't pay themselves," you answer breezily. "And persecution is such a messy business, after all. Better to save your hide and wallet and sacrifice a few million sheep in the process."

Amie looks at you, trying to integrate this new information in her head. Then, her mouth opens and she asks:

"Sir... where is God in all this?"