Glitch had to rush to find shelter. It was raining a lot harder than the forecast had predicted. If she had known it was going to be this bad, she would have delayed her supply trip. The possibility of water damaging a part of her machinery was not worth it. At all.

As luck would have it, a nearby movie theater provided ample protection from the rain. She, along with a few others who were trying to stay dry, stood under the marquee. Judging by the force of the downpour, she was going to be there a while. All Glitch could do was fold up her umbrella and prepare to fight off boredom.

She removed the hood of her raincoat and shifted her attention to the movie posters. There were around a dozen of them there; maybe there would be one she just had to make plans to see. So, what were the offerings?

There was yet another “Stony” sequel. This would be number eight. How many more were they going to make?

Then there was “Mega Destruction,” a disaster movie. The background depicted destruction caused by.... a giant earthquake? Nope, nothing new. Even if the description said it would be “earth-shattering.”

And, “Justin Pond” had a gun-wielding man in maroon suit against a lime green background. Ouch. Seriously. Ouch.

She continued looking over the posters, the storm raging in the background.

Panu was Experiencing American Culture.

Mostly it was stupid but he'd promised Noel he would try. It was his homework before their next gelato-and-English session: he had to go to a restaurant and order in English, and see a movie with his wifi turned off, and tell her a summary of the plot without any translator or google cheating.

Probably Mega-Destruction was the best movie for this. The movie poster already told him all of the plot. But he did not actually know the word for earthquake in English, and he didn't know if he could google just one word or if that was cheating. She had been teaching him about circumlocution, which meant talking circles, which meant he should use words he already knew to talk around words he didn't. He gave this a try in his head:

It is movie about bad computer graphics killing persons.

See? He did not even need to watch it. He did not need to watch any of these.

Stoney VIII: A man runs up stairs and is happy.

Horror Movie III: A woman runs up stairs and is dead.

Justin Pond: There are explosions and sex and they would not let me in the theater because I did not have my adult.

Shaolin Lemur IV: They wanted me to buy ticket for this instead but I would not dignify that with response.

Panu very much liked that phrase: would not dignify with response. Mostly Finnish was Best Language Ever, but he was gracious enough to acknowledge that English had some good expressions. That was his favorite.

Really, he did not want to dignify any of these movies with a response. It would be easier to just pirate a movie at home. Better resolution, too. The Big Screen was lost on blind boys who would be viewing things through their cell phone cameras (as long as stupid theater people didn't make him put his phone away, otherwise he'd just be listening to the movie and also to people eating popcorn and shifting in their seats and maybe children-who-were-stupider-than-him crying). He had never actually seen a movie in a theater, but this was what the internet told him to expect. He should just go home.

But Noel's homework had included, get out of your dragon-dad's house and talk to real people.

Which was stupid. And the reason he was standing in front of a theater he didn't want to go into to watch a movie he didn't want to see while his blonde hair was wet from rain he didn't want on him. Noel was Very Strict Teacher.

This is when the robot woman showed up. His world got approximately 300% more excellent when she did. She was not a META bot. At least, he was not any model he knew, and her components did not match. She had steel on her outside instead of that black plating. Her cameras were higher res. She did not have a mutant sensor or a tazer. Some systems where the same, but many felt very different, like different flavors of ice cream.

And her code.

Her code was black-boxed. Completely, 100% Panu-proof.

The blonde boy stood in rapt awe, eyes wide and rather unfocused, because he was not even pretending to be seeing with them.

He focused all his attention on her systems, like child who had found a blue butterfly sitting on the sidewalk. This lasted approximately ten seconds—long enough to rifle through her systems three times. Once in excitement, twice with great focus, thrice with magnifying glass. Then he began to poke.

Poke—he tried to see if he could move a servo in her arm. Poke—maybe get a crackle from her voice box? Poke—see how far could her eye cameras could zoom in and out?

Nothing was Panu-proof. She was Most Beautiful Robo-Woman Ever, and he would learn all her secrets, like true Technopath Gentleman.

Unsuspecting, Glitch wasn't prepared for the chain of strange malfunctions. A sudden wild jerk of her right arm, a loud staticky noise from her speaker, then blurred vision. All were quick but ominous.

Glitch looked around, startled. She had attention of a few people. The man nearby took several cautious steps away from her. She retreated to the corner, humiliated. Mercifully, she couldn't turn red from embarrassment.

What was going on?

The rain. It must have leaked in and shorted out some circuits. Glitch lifted her raincoat's right sleeve to inspect her arm. The surface was unexpectedly dry. She was going to have to take a closer look at it and the other systems when she got back to the mansion. Until then, she needed to stay alert so-

Ooh, the actor on the “Secondary School Singalong” poster was kind of hot. Glitch couldn't place a finger on the name, but she knew he was a teenage heartthrob, and she could definitely see why.

Yeah, she was totally picturing the guy naked.

Everything worked. Or at least, he could break everything in just the right way. The robot's data he still could not access, but probably there was just clever shielding in place. Something he had not seen before. Something that maybe disguised the signals coming in and out. Touching her systems felt like network diving—like all the rest of the world was gone and all his focus was in one place and the place was strange but there was so much to explore, like going to a new park for the first time. Her brain must be like secret cave hidden in park: he would explore and explore and go off trail, and maybe not find it for days, but that just made it even better.

She looked like she was staring at poster. He knew what metabots thought when they looked at things: long lines of pattern recognition, of data arrays and whole branching forests of if-else paths. What would her mind look like? It sent tingles to his fingers and toes, it was so good to think about.

This was way better than seeing brain-numbing movie in tongue-twisting English. Best Friend Noel would understand.

The Finn adjusted his headphones resolutely, and marched over to the fantastic-beautiful-wonderful mystery bot.

“Who is build you?” The boy was small and Finnish and almost accusing. With regular adults he had to be quiet and polite and respectful. This was the best way to not be an Annoying Child. But she was not an adult, or even a human. She was technology. Technology was his world and life and power and brain. It was what he was Best In World at, what he could do that was always his to control, what no one could take away from him (except go-die-in-fire Adapteds). It was his.

Decision made, he reached out his hand. He tried to order hers to do the same: to take his little fingers in hers, and close around them like they were friends.

“You are come home with me,” he told her, and stepped out from under the overhang.

There was a very hasty not-so-graceful very-wet-blonde-hair retreat.

“...After rain,” Panu amended, wiping futility at his wet hair with his wet hoodie arm.

There it was again, a question Glitch heard all the time. “Who built you?”

She resisted answering with a “Mom and Dad in their bedroom workshop” crack. Far too inappropriate for a little boy. “I was born, not built,” she responded instead. It was something she repeated to herself every once in a while to remind herself that she was still human.

She listened, confused. His English was broken; he probably didn't mean to be demanding. It took her a moment to realize that she was holding his hand. Thank goodness she didn't accidentally crush his fingers. She gently pulled her hand away and placed it in her raincoat's pocket. Maybe that would stop the limb from flailing and breaking someone's nose. Or something along those lines.

“I'm a stranger. I can't walk off with you,” she responded kindly. Her eyes looked the crowd over. By then, a parent would have normally pulled their child away from her, either with apologies or insults. No one was watching the boy. Glitch wondered if he was lost. “Where are your parents?” she asked out of concern.

Her voice synthesizer was very good, very smooth. Her lag time was almost like surprise; her language parsing was beautiful, much better than META bots. Her words were just like Real People words.

“You are process novel situations very well. What is algorithm for machine learning?” Again he poked at that hidden black box in her metal skull, and again he slipped off, like boy jumping on wet algae-slime rock in river. Another thought struck him, and he frowned: “...Or maybe it is only anticipated that children are come up to you? This has happened before, so pre-programmed dialogue responses?”

This option was less impressive, but still, she was clearly a work of art.

“It is okay,” Panu comforted her, ordering her hand into his again. “You will not walk off with me. I will walk off with you. My father is out of town for many weeks, so I am alone in house. No one will mind if I am take you apart, even if I make mess.”

He ordered her arm to hold itself out straight, and held his camera phone over it, peering as closely as the digital zoom would let him. “What screw types do you use? Maybe we will have to go to hardware store before home.”

...Did Jaager even own a tool box, or did he mostly solve household problems by throwing money at them?

Yes. Yes they would have to go to hardware store. She could help him carry tools.

Glitch was surprised at the boy's questions. He must have had a strong interest in computers, as those subjects were advanced for his age. “No, no algorithms, no pre-programmed responses. At least, I don't think...” And sincerely hoped. She didn't know exactly what the thing in her head contained, but she didn't want coding to be behind it.

Wait. He wanted to take her apart?!

Just when Glitch was about to protest, she realized her arm moved on its own once more. Her eyes went wide. The child's inspection and her arm's involuntary behavior was too well-timed, too fitting. Was the boy a mutant? They weren't super common, but Glitch could think of no other explanation.

“Whoa, not cool!” She yanked her arm back and pinned it down with her other arm. “Stop messing with my arm!” she scolded. The kid might have been playing around, but she did not find being controlled the least bit funny.

>> “...At least, I don't think...”

She did not think. Either this was Most Excellent Coder Joke that should be included at the end of all sentences an AI did not know the correct answer to, or it meant the exact opposite, and she did think.

The Finn considered this question very seriously as she moved her arm away again. New and (pseudo-)independent commands to limbs was maybe evidence of thought. Otherwise it was maybe just reset: Default state: Arm should be at side. If (!armAtSide) {arm.move(toSide)};

If she was real AI, not fake AI like METAs and internet chat bots (even if METAs were so so so so so pretty in their code and got smarter every day), but if she was real then it was very bad manners to move her arms for her. Maybe as bad as making atomic bomb jokes with SKYNET.

“I offer conditional apology,”' the boy said. And maybe conditional apology was not a normal thing for a nine-year-old to say, but when your head was maybe half-code, it was very easy to think of apologies in terms of if-then-else. “If you are true AI, please accept regrets for bad behavior.”

But if she was not, then all this arm-jerking-away really really really made him want to order her to hold her arm out so he could use it like monkey bars.

“Please now prove to me now if you are self-aware creation.”

if (selfAware) {Panu.cringingApology()};

else {totallyMonkeyBars && dissectionForScience};

This child had Glitch seriously worried. Something about him was off. Mainly the controlling of her with his... whatever his power was. Didn't his parents tell him that controlling others was impolite? Wait, probably not. They weren't there stopping him that instant. Plus, that kid mentioned something about being alone at home while his father worked. Big fat “F” for failure at parenting.

Then there was his excessive interest in her programming and machinery. Glitch suspected he was willing to go beyond asking questions to learn more about her. It was enough to make her shudder. If he wanted her to prove her sentience, she was going to try. Anything to avoid the vivisection.

“What can I tell ya? My name is Glitch. I'm fifteen years old. I like video games -well, any game, really. I grew up in San Diego and moved here three years ago,” she spat out.

Her red eyes darted between the boy and the street. “Does that all count as proof?” Cautiously, she edged towards the sidewalk. Best be ready to risk the rain if the answer was “no.”

Her name was Glitch. (This was bad proof, Glitch was like most obvious name for a robot ever, like naming a dog Bark.)

She was fifteen years old. (Fifteen? Fifteen years ago the technology to make her did not exist, how was that possible, was she from a Super Secret Illegal Lab of Robotic Horrors? This would be most excellent, she would have the best stories to tell--)

She liked video games. Any games. (Of course she did, games were half of what computers were programmed to do, anything will logical rules was very good. It was no mistake that she had first said “video games” and not “that American game with the weird-shaped ball that keeps giving all its players concussions.” A real AI would have taste.)

She grew up in San Diego (very good, Silicon Valley was also in California--) and she moved here three years ago--

And she was edging away very human-like.

….And there was maybe an easier explanation for a fifteen year old more-than-modern robot with a black-boxed brain he could not access.

“Oh. You are mutant.” The Finn's shoulders slumped.

This was very less exciting than meeting a real AI. She was just pretending to be a robot, the same way he pretended to be a computer. She was also technology mutant.

The Finn un-slumped, and also maybe stood on his toes because she was also technology mutant. “What can you do on networks? What is 2349798.1 squared, what is capital of Nigeria and population of city, how many phones are in five feet of us? What happens if you are injured, do you regrow or do you need to find parts? I am here to see movie as English homework, will you come with? I will pay for ticket and also food and if movie is awful I can make theater play cat videos instead and we can see how long it is take them to fix it.”

He had never met another technology mutant. It was Panu's thought that most mutants were too old to have technology as power; old people had grown up with film cameras and box TVs and dial-up modems only, barely better than cave rocks and spears. Mutants from that generation had powers over nature—light and trees and electricity and rocks and turn-into-dragon--because their childhoods were so boring that they spent much time outside. Panu's generation were digital natives. They had been born to this.

Some more literally than others.

Glitch crossed her arms and nodded. “Yeah. Mutant.” Probably should have mentioned that earlier. With all the META bots around, mutant wasn't always the first conclusion people reached.

She stared at the boy blankly, bombarded by the string of questions. “I... don't know most of those. Like, I can do the same things other people do online, and I know I need repairs when I break, but I'm not super smart or anything.” Though, being mistaken for a genius was kind of nice. Complement taken.

“And hold on. You can make them play cat videos?” (Which, admittedly, would be pretty funny to watch.) “Just what is your power, anyways?” Whatever the mutation was, the fact that a little boy had a power that could control her movement was scary, almost as scary as it would be if the mutant was instead an evil adult.

She crossed her arms and he did not uncross them for her. Now that she was a person, he probably shouldn't do that.

She was very a person. Basic math was not programmed into her head by default, and she could not Google in a quicker time than it took to speak, and she did not feel the technology around them like stars buzzing at the edge of her mind. Maybe her brain was blackboxed from him because it was still normal boring human brain.

This was very disappointing, but people usually were. Panu squared his shoulders and tried not to make her feel bad about it.

“Please accept sincere apology, Miss Glitch. I am Panu Harmaajärvi-Jaager. My power is All Technology. If I know that you are person-not-technology, I would not be so rude. Please let me treat to movie and overpriced concession food to make up for earlier bad behavior.”

...Could she still eat?

“Can you still eat?” The Finn blurted out, his curiosity maybe ruining his apology. She was not cool as a true AI, but that was like saying a 3-loop roller coaster was cooler than a 1-loop roller coaster. It was true but both were still awesome.

A technology mutant? Glitch's heart sunk. She was machine enough to be controlled with that class of powers. Panu stopped once he realized she was a mutant. The sad part was, there were people out there who wouldn't care. Becoming someone's robotic puppet was a horrific thought, extremely horrific.

As odd as Panu was, he was still a kid. With him apologizing like that, Glitch couldn't stay mad at him. People mistook her for a true robot more often than she liked. So, she was no stranger to stares, snapshots, nor even the occasional poke.

“No. I wish I could.” Buttered popcorn and soda might be common, but both sounded so appetizing. It was best not to think of food. “But sure, I'll take you up on that.”

Because he was there alone, Glitch felt she should keep an eye on him and make sure he stayed safe. Seeing a movie beat standing around and waiting for the rain to stop anyways.

She did not eat. He had so many questions. Did she have self-contained reactor in her chest like Iron Man? What did it run on and what was its lifespan and when it ran out was that like dying of old age for her or could she recharge? Or maybe she only had batteries, and had to recharge anyway, by plugging into wall. Could she take regular current as energy or did she need a special adapter like a Chinese laptop in Chicago? How long could she go on one charge? What happened if she was in low power mode, what happened if battery ran out completely, what happened if--

Panu started new sub-process: text document to write down questions so he did not blurt all of these things out at once but also so he did not forget them. This document got bigger and bigger and bigger but now his main attention was free to Be Gentleman.

“Let us look at movie posters and choose Least Horrible Option,” the blonde boy said, leading them back over to the wall of plot summaries in picture form. Probably it was not a good sign that most of them could summarize their plot in one big picture.

This caused him maybe a small ethical dilemma, because he had said he would not control her, but the best eyes he had right now were hers. They were high resolution and set at good height and light balance and auto-focus was so much better than the camera hung around his neck.

...Looking through her eyes was not really controlling her. It was difference between FBI planting informant in terrorist cell who egged people on to do things, and NSA which only sat back with popcorn and watched all data come in. Not control at all, just data.

He scanned the posters as she did.

“Maybe Action Man and Token Girl VII? Probably it is so bad the scriptwriters have stopped caring about being serious and have maybe started to be funny.”

“Yep. Least Horrible Option.” An odd way of putting it, but the right idea. She needed ask Panu where he was from, what his native language was.

Her red eyes scanned poster after poster. Rated R, rated R, boring documentary, PG-13 slasher film that should be rated R... Then there was the poster which was covered in poorly rendered animals with freakishly large eyes. No doubt they'd have the annoying voices to match. Sadly, there wasn't much there that was child appropriate without being completely stupid.

Hmm... Action Man and Token Girl VII... From the sound of it, Panu had seen some of the earlier ones. “They meant for these to be serious? I thought they were supposed to be corny comedies.” Glitch wondered if he had a point. Maybe the funniness was unintentional. As if it was possible to know for sure. As far as she was concerned, funny was funny.

“There's not much else. This'll work for me.” If nothing else, the actor playing Action Man wasn't bad looking.