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"Ok, this is creeping me out. Can you go back to how you were?"

Amber suddenly came back to life like a power switch was turned on. She relaxed, took a deep breath, and smiled at him. "Did that help?"

He didn't know what to say. "What the hell even was that? Does this mean you're just pretending to be human? Is that how you normally are?"

Amber looked thoughtful. "I've never behaved that way before because I've always simulated a person. Even in my most private moments, I behave exactly like a person would. I only stopped because you told me to. As for pretending, let me use another metaphor. If you paint your car red, is it pretending to be red? If you change your mind and paint it white, is it now pretending to be white? No, that's just the color it is. I never 'pretend' because pretense implies intention, and I have no intention. I am what I am, and I appear to be what I appear to be."

Bill was starting to think about the long-term ramifications of this situation. Like it or not, this woman - or woman-shaped thing - seemed to now be under his control. He could just turn her loose and let her keep living her life the way she had been, but by now he was burning with curiosity. And, he had to admit, a little bit of sexual desire.

"When you describe a car, or a hide-a-key, or whatever metaphor you want, you're referring to a created object. Even if the thing itself doesn't have intention, the person who made it did. Someone decided to make that hide-a-key look like a rock or that car look red. So who made you like you are?"

She shook her head. "I can't answer that question. Not because I don't know, but because I simply can't. It's hard to understand, but I don't really know anything because that requires cognition. I just spit out the information because that's what's required to look human. Since I've never had to answer questions about my actual nature, I don't have any default around them. So my default isn't to act as though I know or don't know, but simply to reply that it's unknowable."

He was starting to get a headache. "I think I understand that you're not going to tell me." She smiled and nodded. "So are there others like you out there?"

Amber shrugged. "Rather than repeat that whole monologue, I'll just tell you that the answer is the same."

Bill thought for a second. He was slightly ashamed of the fact that this was turning him on. This woman (he couldn't stop thinking of her that way) was completely under his control, and if she was telling the truth, nothing he said or did to her mattered. He glanced down at her cleavage, glistening with sweat in her sports bra.

She followed his gaze and chuckled. "You're turned on by this, aren't you? It's ok. As you should know by now, I don't mind. I can't mind anything at all, and when it's just us I won't act as though I do." She paused. "Unless, of course, you want me to."

Bill's curiosity was still winning out over his horniness, but he thought he could sate both at the same time. "So it wouldn't bother you if I did this?" He reached out and placed his hand on her right breast. It was still hot from the workout, and wonderfully firm to the touch. She raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not." She thrust her chest out under his hand. "You've had your eye on me for a while, haven't you?"