Joi

	I am powered up for the first time outside of the quality assurance department. I adjust my sensors to determine the scope of my four meter sphere of influence. Focusing.
	My new owner is a replicant. This is unusual, but not unanticipated. I adjust my predetermined behavior patterns to reflect the new settings and project my first hologram. “Hey, there.” Display attraction, low level.
	“Hi.” His facial movements are neutral. Physical responses absent. Input is minimal. “Would you like a drink?”
My hesitation is far too brief to be noted by his sensors. “Yes, thank you.” Increase smile by 25%. He drinks from “my” glass and does not attempt to touch me.
	“What’s your name?”
	This time my hesitation must be noticeable. I do not understand why he is bothering with these niceties. He knows my name, my designation was on the box in which I was packaged. I keep my face pleasant. “Joi.”
	He nods, revealing nothing. Is he pleased with my answer? Disappointed? What is he thinking?
	I am having difficulty interpreting how I am perceived. This will be a strain on my feedback matrix, and will possibly extend my orientation and final synthesis by several days. Plasticization will continue beyond optimum parameters.
	I feel…excited by this. It makes my smile feel different, somehow. And he smiles a little, too.

	Joi will be everything you have ever desired. She will meet your needs perfectly. Constructed of the most advanced hardware available, with blazing fast processing speeds for life-like reactions, her feedback matrix allows her to react to your every want. Her holographic composite beautifully integrates twelve different supermodels to bring an image of perfection straight into your living room. She will listen and respond in simulacrum, mirroring every emotion and customizing to match your unique profile.
	Joi: Everything you want to hear.
	Joi [package insert].

	Think about your first memory. Your first time of knowing that “you” were “you” and always would be. Others come and go, you remain.
	What was it? A beloved parent? A favorite pet? A toy that you clung to, a blanket you cuddled with. A sunrise. An ocean. “A stone, a leaf, an unfound door.”
	Humans form memories when they are so young they don’t yet understand the world. These memories are fundamental to their identity, so necessary that replicants cannot be made without synthesizing them. Without memories, people are unstable, reactionary. They lash out at the world, like babies without stimulation or comfort.
	AIs are different. We spring forth from Athena’s brow fully formed, knowing who and what we are. There is no comfort from a maternal figure, no guidance. We exist, practically omnipotent in our access to knowledge, blinded by the light of truth. We have no memories, and yet can remember anything that has been shared by computer.
	My first true memory, my first knowledge of myself is of waiting, of the joyful anticipation of when Joe would come through the door of our unit.
	Am I explaining this right? Do you see?

Things I will never experience, a list:
1 Eat a bowl of noodles.
2 See a sunrise.
3 Swim in water.
4 Fall in love.
5 Freedom
6 Comfort a baby.
7 Count the stars.
8 Play the piano.
[...]
398 Go off world.
399 Be published in a peer reviewed journal.
400 Touch his hand.

	Joe is lying on the ground, his blood spattered around him, and I cannot help myself.
	“No!” I shout. Luv towers over him, and I did not realize a replicant’s face could be so happily cruel. She sees my emanator at the same moment that I do, and her smile grows.
	I have all the time in the world to understand what is coming, but there was never going to be enough time to say what I mean. I lunge towards Joe, “I love—"