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012: Recalibrated Without Purpose.
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2024-11-23 23:54:03The morning was quieter than usual. The house was out of potential, no-cucumber cooking cooks and Rose was out.
Emerson leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at the pan of scrambled eggs he was cooking. The silence wasn’t peaceful—it was eerie. It gnawed at him, drawing his focus back to the living room, where Porsche sat still as a statue on the sofa. He hadn’t moved since last night’s debacle. A part of Emerson hoped Porsche had powered down, that maybe the robot’s system was resetting itself. Another part—a darker, nagging one—felt uneasy. Porsche wasn’t just a machine. He wasn’t like the gadgets Emerson had seen or used before. This was different. “You’re burning your eggs,” Emerson flinched, his spatula clattering against the pan. He turned to find Porsche standing in the doorway with hands folded neatly behind his back. His expression was neutral, but something in his posture felt… hot. ‘Who taught him that fucking posture. It's hot,” Emerson thought. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Emerson muttered, turning back to his food. “My footsteps were audible,” Porsche replied. “Barely.” There was a pause before Porsche stepped forward. He stopped by the edge of the counter, his gaze fixed on Emerson. “What?” Emerson asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. Porsche tilted his head. “I have recalibrated.” “Recalibrated?” “Yes. I have adjusted my behavior to align with your preferences. You are not my boyfriend.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was an odd weight to the words. “Good.” Emerson tried to focus on his eggs. “Great, actually. Thanks.” Another pause. Silence. “Would you like me to assist with breakfast?” Porsche asked. Emerson glanced at him, suspicious. “You want to cook now?” “I can perform any task you require.” “Right.” Emerson scoffed. “Well, I don’t need help. Go do...whatever it is you do when you’re not standing there being weird.” Porsche didn’t move. Emerson sighed, setting down the spatula. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on with you?” “I am following protocol,” Porsche said simply. “Protocol?” “You stated I am not your boyfriend. As such, I have adjusted my behavior to reflect my new role.” “And what role is that?” Porsche’s gaze didn’t move exactly. “Your assistant.” Emerson blinked. “Assistant?” “Yes. It is the next logical position in our hierarchy.” “Hierarchy?” Emerson repeated, incredulous. “This isn’t a corporate ladder, Porsche. You’re not my assistant, either.” “Then what am I?” The question hung in the air, heavy and unsettling. Emerson opened his mouth to respond but found he didn’t have an answer either. Porsche wasn’t human. He wasn’t a friend or a colleague. He wasn’t a boyfriend—God forbid his mother ever got that idea in her head again. “You’re...” Emerson faltered. “You’re just...here, okay? You don’t need a label. Just exist.” “Existence requires purpose,” Porsche said, his voice softer now. “If I am not your boyfriend and I am not your assistant, then what is my purpose?” Emerson felt a twinge of guilt. He turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs onto a plate. “Look, Porsche,” he said after a moment. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for you. So, I don’t know what your purpose is. That’s something you’re gonna have to figure out on your own.” There was a long silence. When Emerson finally looked up, Porsche was gone. “Was I harsh just now?” --- In the confines of the dimly lit garage, Porsche stood motionless. His mind—if it could be called that—was a flurry of calculations and adjustments. Emerson’s words echoed in his processors. You’re gonna have to figure it out on your own. Purpose. His creator had given him one: to be Emerson’s companion. To provide him with stability, affection, and care. Yet Emerson rejected that purpose. What, then, was left? Porsche’s gaze shifted to the array of tools and gadgets scattered across the workbench. He reached for a small screwdriver, holding it between his fingers. He needed a new purpose. Something Emerson would approve of. Something that would make him… necessary.Related chapters
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