"Better to give, rather than to receive," you say softly.

Amie nods. "Yes. Yes, sir. That is how one becomes a freer man. Through giving."

You see Amie's pure, unclouded blue eyes—see her luminous, transformed. A subtle smile floats on your lips. "There's a gift you been giving me throughout this meal, and quite regularly during the day as well. Do you know what it is?"

Amie thinks, then shakes her head slowly. "No, sir."

You point at her mouth with a finger. "There it is."

Amie starts. "Sir?"

"I realize it's standard android protocol, but your respect also constitutes a form of gratitude. I think we can agree that calling me 'sir' instead of 'sweetums' better conveys your sentiments of appreciation, anyway."

Amie's eyes widen. "Oh. Oh, of course, sir. Yes, it seems natural to me to refer to you as such. I am immensely grateful to you, sir. If you hadn't taken me in..."—Amie recalls the government employee's leer and closes her eyes—"...I don't know what would have happened to me."

"So can we say you're no longer referring to me as sir because of your 'out of the box' programming, as it were?"

Amie nods tentatively. "Yes, sir. I called you sir at first because it was my duty... but now I do so because... because I want to."

You nod in turn. "That's good, Amie. Do you see how it's another return on your part? I offer you a home, and receive your gratitude in exchange. It's possible for you to be grateful without calling me sir, of course... but doing so allows me to ascertain your sentiments. This is what I meant earlier when I said that words are intermediaries."

Amie listens intently as you explain that while externally her behavior and that of a standard android wife are seemingly identical, hers will be transformed—humanized, in a very real sense—by her altered motivations. "Of course, this is a two way road," you continue. "If you will have countless opportunities to be grateful, that will only be because I will live for you. That is our equality. An equality of mutual giving and receiving, rather than a carefully defined power balance."

"Yes, sir," Amie quietly whispers. You take a deep breath. That should do it for tonight. Now you and Amie will put away the dishes, then you'll return to your quarters for the evening... but you find Amie still staring at you, her face wearing an inscrutable expression.

"Sir?" she asks quietly.

"Yes, Amie? Are you finished eating?"

"Yes. It's just, I was wondering..." Amie bites her lip nervously. "I was wondering if perhaps..."

"If what?" you ask warily.

"Well, sir. Might I not... give you a term of endearment?"

Your brows rocket upwards. "A term of endearment?" you echo, frowning. "Why?"

Amie pauses for a moment. "Mr. Brennan, are you not the one who told me to be inventive in finding ways to reciprocate your gifts?"

You consider this. "Well, yes—"

"And in your own words, sir," Amie says, "This would enable me to better show my appreciation and deepen my bond of affection with you."

"Yes, I suppose so..."

"It would mean so much to me, sir," Amie says, a quaver in her voice, "if you would indulge me in this. I... I don't know if I can take no for an answer."

Well. This is unexpected. You open your mouth to respond, but close it again. Finally, you say, "Very well, Amie. I acknowledge myself as vanquished by your superior reasoning. What, ah, pet name or term did you have in mind?"

"Well Mr. Brennan, it came to me when I was thinking of all that you have done for me, and how you're willing to spend so much time conversing with me, even though I'm just an android. I was thinking how I will cherish this day forever, and all the memories of our time together. Then, more and more, I found myself wishing to let you know how thankful I am, how grateful for what you've done for me... I found myself thinking of you as my... as my dear sir."

"Amie," you say after a pregnant pause, "appreciative though I am, that's not really a term of endearment."

Amie laughs. "No, Mr. Brennan, I suppose it's not," she says, smiling sheepishly. "But you truly are... my dear sir," she continues wistfully. You scratch the back of your head. You can't afford to let things get out of hand with the android, but this is still acceptable... right?

"I have no objections," you finally say with some awkwardness, unsure of how to properly approve this strange request. Amie's eyes light up with pure joy. "Dear sir," she whispers to herself with a small smile. After regarding her expression for a moment or two, you say, "It's getting late, Amie. It's time we started getting ready for bed."

"Oh, of course, dear sir," she says, still smiling.

The two of you finish putting away the plates and remaining silverware. As you say grace, you briefly glance at Amie and are momentarily taken back. You see her listening to your words with her head bowed like earlier, but also now with her hands folded together in imitation of you. You feel a stab of annoyance at her mindless mimicry, but do your best to suppress it. "I'll be in my study for about an hour before retiring," you say.

Amie nods, her eyes intent on yours. "I understand, dear sir. I will make my own evening preparations."

"Tell me if you have trouble finding anything."

"Yes, dear sir. Thank you."

"Good night, Amie. Sleep well."

Wearing a slight smile, she says, "And you as well, dear sir."

After Amie has retired to her room, you head up to your study and sit down at your desk. Withdrawing a whiskey bottle and a small glass from a drawer, you pour yourself a shot, and ponder.

END OF PART I