“Wasn’t he supposed to stay with you?”
“I’m not familiar with BT policy and yes, sir, I was being smart then.”
Kenuda scowled. “Was he there when you found the Olak certificate?”
Pablo shook his head.
“Did you sign out for it?”
Pablo hesitated, then shook his head again.
“Which means you illegally removed the certificate.”
“I unofficially removed it, sir. I’m not aware if that is illegal or simply a gap in process.”
Elias wearily accepted that reasoning.
“And the BT searched me,” Pablo continued. “He didn’t find the document. So I did cooperate in that aspect of the process.”
Elias peered. “Was it in a place that a frisking would find?”
“Is that the responsibility of the person being frisked or the responsibility of the Black Top?” Pablo blocked Kenuda from entering Needleman’s. “That’s not significant, sir.”
Pablo explained what was. By 2036, facial ‘bots had blended into society until they became nearly impossible to recognize, causing mayhem and mistrust. Winning public office, posing as everything from entertainers to scholars, getting humans to fall in love with them using a potent cocktail of perfect emotional adaptability and sexual skills, the ‘bots were hunted down and, in the first wave of panic that society would be taken over, the machines were destroyed.
In 2040, a broad-based committee of concerned scientists, backed by corporations eager for profits, persuaded the government that it was short-sighted to get rid of the ‘bots; their faces were removed and their use restored. After the war, the loyalty of ‘bots was recognized and they were permitted to have names, rarely acknowledged by humans, and given limited responsible positions; the Little Extended Family was established and strict anti-robot prejudice laws were enacted.
Now Pablo was convinced that was all a sham.
Kenuda waited by the unattended register to be shown to his table.
“Anywhere,” Ruffian the waiter shouted gruffly. Pablo led them to his familiar table opposite the counter.
The waiter dropped the menus down and walked away. Pablo was about to call him back so he could launch into the welcome to the glorious world of deli food, but Kenuda impatiently cleared his throat.
“Do I have to eat?” Kenuda sneered at the menu.
“He gets a little touchy if you insult the food.” Pablo squinted at the waiter’s face, where a slight cut squibbled along the jaw.
“I wouldn’t want to offend anyone. If that’s the correct pronoun.”
Pablo ate a sour tomato. “Olak was part of the robotics program, sir. You saw the certificate.”
“I saw that it ended per the edict banning ‘bots with faces.”
“Except this place.”
Kenuda looked around, wishing he were elsewhere.
“It should’ve been closed down, but it wasn’t,” Pablo continued. “The other restaurants were shut, which I checked, but not this one.”
“Let’s say they forgot,” Elias said carefully. “The world was tense. Things slipped through the gap.”
“Why keep this open and not the others?”
“I just said. It fell through the cracks.”
“For sixty years? Look at them.” Pablo nodded at the bored waiter and sour-faced old men at the table. “Robots of that era weren’t so sophisticated. The details of their physiogomy are astonishing.”
“That’s why they were outlawed, because they were so lifelike.”
“And because they were lifelike, they had limited life spans. Twenty years, tops. You can’t make money if you don’t have to replace your product.”
“Grandma fixed that unpleasant little bit of capitalism,” Kenuda said.
“Obviously these are not the original models from 2034.”
Elias thought for a moment. “Unless the original models were better than we thought. The democratic government lied egregiously back then.”
Pablo nodded for him to continue, but Kenuda threw up his hands.
“Without more research, I don’t have anything else to say.”
“But you think it’s strange.”
“I think it might not be any of our business. Certainly not mine without more proof.” Kenuda tossed aside the menu and got ready to leave.
“Third Cousin, it’s your mandate to investigate irregularities of all kinds. Whether they come under your area or not.”
Elias scowled. “Are you telling me my job?”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes blazed. “Investigating without proof is foolish.”
“It can be. It’s called taking risks. That’s why I wanted to join the Cousins program. To be a leader.”
“You don’t even know if they’re really robots.”
Pablo fired a pickle, which slammed directly into the waiter’s face.
“You just threw one of these cucumbers at an old man,” Kenuda shouted.
The customers at the front table turned toward the commotion. Pablo threw sour tomatoes, all of them plopping into the old timers’ heads. One of the men flung back a pickle, which sprayed brine onto Kenuda’s pants, intensifying his anger.
“Now you threw green vegetables at more senior citizens. What’s wrong with you, Diaz?”
The waiter angrily chased Pablo, doused by a canopy of pickles from the yelling men, onto the street, where he caught up with Kenuda.
“Listen to me, Third Cousin. They replaced the robots.”
Kenuda whirled. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know…”
“But you think these mysterious theys are part of some conspiracy?”
“Damnit, they were robots two days ago. I’m sure of it.”
Kenuda stared coldly. “And I’m sure after my report, you won’t be in the Cousins program, Doctor, so it no longer matters. Good day and best of luck.”
The Commissioner abruptly shook Pablo’s hand and disappeared down the subway platform at the end of the block.
Pablo brushed his jacket clean and slumped next to a fire hydrant, baffled.
• • • •
FOUR SHIMMERING DRESSES reclined on their bed, joined by a pile of six shoes, watched by three wigs on heads sitting on the dresser. For a moment, Puppy had to remind himself that he was the only living thing in the room.
“Which one?” Mooshie circled back around the bed; he wasn’t sure if she were asking him or the clothes.
“They’re all beautiful. Beth does good work.”
Mooshie grinned mischievously. “You like her.”
He blushed. “Just her work.”
“Sure, her work.”
“She’s a wonderful dressmaker, that’s it. Believe me, I’d have to sleep with a gun under the pillow.”
“I have,” Mooshie said vaguely; she held a blue dress to her neck before the long mirror.
“And are you and Commissioner Kenuda also correct befitting our stations as engaged people?”
Mooshie dismissively tossed aside the dress and held up the
