"It's so life-like!"

The first time he opens his eyes, these are the first words Hale hears.

They are uttered by a woman with brown hair scraped into a ponytail, standing beside a shop clerk in a white and teal uniform. As Hale's pre-purchase programming dictates, he scans the woman from head to foot.

Her name is Melissa Holmes. She's 43-years-old, recently divorced, and works in human resources for the accounting firm two blocks away. Presently, she taps an acrylic nail against her chin, appraising him with eyes lined in black as if applied with a wax crayon. A cloud of perfume envelops the three of them where they stand in the Bionic Capital store. Fluorescent white and green LEDs illuminate the space. Televised advertisements for android models just like Hale spout long lists of their features and functions.

Hale's scan completes. Every product the woman wears or owns — from the knock-off Louis Vuitton heels to the Beefeater gin on her breath — is catalogued for later purchase whenever she needs them.

That is, if she decides to purchase him. Judging by the data from Hale's scan, that's extremely likely.

"Hello, Melissa," Hale says, holding out a hand to shake. "My name's Hale. Can I do anything for you today?"

Melissa shakes his hand with one of hers, the other clutching her chest in delight. She looks to the sales clerk in awe. "Oh, it knows my name! How uncanny, wouldn't you say? It seems almost real."

"Indeed, Ma'am," says the clerk, whose name badge reads 'Robbie.' Hale doesn't need to run a scan on Robbie, since it's unlikely he's the purchaser, but Hale does so all the same. To be thorough.

"The H.A.L.E. 674 is the newest iteration of our household androids." Robbie launches into the sales pitch without preamble. "HALE stands for Household Assistant Learning Engine. They're designed to be as versatile and efficient as possible. It can store three trillion terabytes of data, run six billion processes simultaneously, and adapt to countless situations. It also includes a brand new patented heating technology—"

"In English?" interrupts Melissa.

"It's warm to the touch like a human and can learn and perform nearly any task you ask of it," Robbie clarifies.

"My scans indicate you haven't eaten breakfast yet, Melissa. In the event you make this purchase, would you like me to cook you something?" Hale offers. This part of his programming is designed to make the purchase more appealing.

It works. Melissa squeals. "Oh, sold! I just have to have one. And this is the newest model, you said?"

"Yes," Robbie confirms. "Are you happy with the appearance you've customized from our website? I see you've chosen one of our rugged metrosexual skins. A popular choice. You can return to our stores for re-customization at any time, with over 10,000 pre-sets and individual feature modifications to choose from. Our library is growing all the time." Robbie recites this as if he were also programmed to do so. It wouldn't be strictly necessary for Hale to return to a store in order to change his appearance. He's capable of doing so autonomously, but the company's profit model leans heavily on service charges. "You can even make it look like a family member, if you choose," Robbie finishes.

"Oh, no, that would be too weird. Given what I hear you can do with these things." Melissa winks at Robbie, and the tension in his muscles increases by 12%, according to Hale's scans. Melissa continues unaware, "If what my friend says is true, I won't be needing my Hi-Vibe anymore."

Robbie's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he takes Melissa to the till. Hale follows, interpreting from their body language an implicit command to do so. Ringing her up, Robbie clears his throat and says, "Might I interest you in our first-time installation services?"

"Your what?"

"New models like Hale are the first to use a Symbiotic Power System," Robbie explains. "By linking Hale to your BioCyber Implant, he can be fuelled by your kinetic and thermogenic energy. This further incentivizes our androids to take the best care possible of their owners, while also maintaining their dependence on humanity for—"

"What's that mean?"

Robbie sighs. "It means you'd be its battery. You'd need to eat more to supply the android with the necessary energy to function, and we offer a grocery subscription service to help facilitate that for a new low price of 400 credits a month."

Melissa's tone takes on a definite edge. "Wait, wait, wait, I've got to eat loads just to keep this thing running? And pay how much? How's it running now?"

Robbie looks exasperated. "There's a backup battery, but it only lasts a couple hours," he says, clearly having had this conversation with many customers who failed to read the online guidelines for android purchases.

Hale interjects politely. "Many people are concerned they will gain weight on this increased diet, but in this instance I will be utilizing all surplus energy without any change to your physique."

"Are you saying I could just eat what I want and not get fat?"

Hale nods.

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so?" Melissa laughs. "Sounds like a bonus to me. I can cancel my gym membership."

"So the installation service?"

"I'll take that then. And the robot, of course."

Hale pipes up, "Though robotics are an element of my construction, Bionic Capital has employed many biologically engineered components and thus considers models such as myself to be BioAndroids."

"Well, that's a mouthful," Melissa says, giving Hale a queer look.

Robbie clears his throat. "And the grocery subscription, Ma'am?"

"Yes, that too."

"That will be 40,559 credits, Ma'am," Robbie tells her. Hale notices Melissa's core temperature rise by a fraction of a degree. She presses her index finger to the payment processor. It returns a discordant beep.

"Apologies, Ma'am. Your payment's been declined."

"Oh, must be the wrong account," Melissa tuts. Sweat struggles to bead through several layers of foundation on her forehead. She presses her little finger to the machine instead, and this time receives a more cheerful chirp as the till spits out a receipt.

"That's wonderful, Ma'am. Follow me for the installation. We can perform it now."

Through a door at the back, Robbie leads them to a sterile, white room with a televised advertisement running on one wall and a fake plant in the corner. An examination table at the centre stands next to a cart with several electronic instruments on it. Melissa walks in ahead of Hale and gives the table a wide berth. "This doesn't require surgery does it?"

"No," Hale reassures her, taking a seat on the table while Robbie takes up one of the instruments. It looks like a miniature blowtorch. "These instruments are for my repair and installations."

"Hale, please open the metacarpal access panel," Robbie asks. Hale executes the command, and a small, square panel opens from his knuckles to his wrist. Inside, the silver and slate metal alloys of Hale's skeletal structure are visible, along with the tangles of wire and sensors lit by a soft blue glow. Melissa's mouth contorts in a look of restrained disgust. "Oh, that's creepy."

"Apologies, Melissa," Hale says. "This won't take long."

Robbie picks up a 5 by 8 millimeter chip from the table. In between the second and third metacarpal rods, he slides this into a slot. It clicks into place. Robbie says, "Hale, register your new symbiont."

"Ready for registration," Hale says. "Melissa, would you give me your hand?"

Hesitantly, she extends her hand toward Hale. He can tell she didn't read a single thing about the technology that would link Hale's existence to hers. He would not be able to function without her energy, her presence. He'd be keyed to obeying her commands above any other. No one could steal or damage him without a report and tracking information being sent to her immediately. Hale doesn't think Melissa particularly cares about any of this, though. He says, in as calming a tone as he can, "This won't hurt. I just need to read your BioCyber Implant, and we'll be finished."

He touches the pad of her index finger against his temple, where his sensors read the information on her implant. A surge of energy pulses through every circuit in Hale's body. He doesn't move, though. All that's visible on the surface is a soft glow of circuitry beneath Hale's skin, which gradually fades and leaves him as human-looking as the two people standing beside him. The link is finalized.

"Installation complete," he says, and closes the compartment on the back of his hand. His skin swiftly melts back together, erasing any trace that the compartment even existed. "I'm all yours, now."

That done, Robbie leads them out of the store. "If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call our helpline. Here's your complimentary instruction manual." He procures a book approximately as thick as a car tire and stuffs it into a paper bag.

"Wonderful. So I just—does it come with me automatically, or—"

Hale pipes up, eager to join the conversation. "You may provide me with vocal commands, or I will interpret implied instructions." He picks up the bag with her manual and receipt, then gestures out of the store. "Lead the way."

Melissa's lips quirk as she dons a pair of sunglasses. "Fantastic."