The rhythm of her footsteps, the occasional happy yaps from her poodle, and the Copy Robot's steady voice in my ear created a bizarre, exhilarating soundtrack to my morning. "Remember, Mitsuo," the robot instructed, his voice a calm hum, a constant presence in my mind. "Maintain a casual stride. Not too fast, not too slow. Observe her interactions with the environment, note her points of interest."
We walked a few blocks, the city slowly stirring to life around us. The air was cool, carrying the faint, earthy scent of dew mixing with the sharp aroma of exhaust fumes from the waking traffic. Street vendors were setting up their stalls, the smell of fresh bread and brewing coffee beginning to permeate the air, a tempting invitation to the senses. Kirei pointed out interesting storefronts and vibrant murals along the way, her enthusiasm contagious. I tried my best to nod and offer appropriate "Hmm" or "Ah" sounds, like a well-programmed conversationalist, all while simultaneously processing the robot's constant stream of directives. "Smile subtly. Not a full grin; too enthusiastic, could be perceived as overeager. A slight upward curve of the lips, indicating pleasant engagement."
The cafe, 'The Quiet Corner,' lived up to its name. It was tucked away on a side street, almost hidden, a cozy spot with warm yellow lighting that spilled onto the pavement. The rich, earthy aroma of roasted beans enveloped us as we stepped inside. As promised, it was mostly empty, save for a lone barista wiping down the counter with methodical precision.
"Perfect!" Kirei whispered, her eyes lighting up like a pair of bright lamps. "Grab us a table in that corner, Perman. I'll get the coffees."
"Roger that," I mumbled, heading towards the secluded nook, my cape swishing softly behind me.
"Mitsuo," the robot's voice came through, a hint of impatience, a subtle change in his otherwise neutral tone. "Order something. Even if you cannot consume it, it maintains the illusion of normal human interaction, reducing the probability of suspicion. A simple black coffee for yourself, and perhaps a juice for her. It demonstrates consideration and familiarity with her previous choice."
"Uh, okay," I thought, nodding subtly to myself. Kirei was already at the counter, her back to me. When she looked over her shoulder, I just gave a thumbs up, hoping she'd get the message about the juice. She chuckled, thankfully, and ordered for both of us, saving me from a potentially awkward ordering attempt.
Coffee, Commerce, and Complications
Soon, we were seated at a small, circular table, the polished wood reflecting the warm light. A steaming mug of black coffee sat in front of me, its aroma rich and inviting, even though I knew I couldn't drink it. A tall glass of vibrant orange juice for Kirei sat beside it. The white poodle, a fluffy sentinel, curled up patiently by her feet, occasionally letting out a soft, contented sigh.
"So," Kirei began, picking up her juice, her movements fluid and confident, "where were we? Oh, right! My dad's projections." She brought out her sleek tablet again, and the screen glowed, illuminating her face with its intricate glow. More intricate charts and graphs, a dizzying array of colors and numbers, filled the display. "This section details the impact of technological advancements on developing economies. See here?" She pointed with a slender stylus to a complex graph, her finger tracing lines that seemed to dance across the screen. "The rise of localized AI applications could significantly boost productivity, but it also creates a need for rapid upskilling in the workforce."
I nodded, trying to look intelligent, as if I understood every single nuance of her rapid-fire explanation. The robot's data dumps yesterday had prepared me for some of this, providing me with the foundational knowledge, but Kirei was talking at lightning speed, clearly passionate about the subject, her words flowing like a river. It was hard to keep up.
"Repeat after me, Mitsuo," the robot prompted, his voice flat, cutting through the stream of data.
I listened intently. "Next time please?" I blurted out, a little too quickly. Then, I added, "Also, I don't understand the essence of Perman's involvement in technological development. I mean, you people can do this without me, right?" I tried to sound genuinely curious, injecting a hint of intellectual humility into my tone.
Kirei's expression softened, a subtle shift from academic passion to thoughtful contemplation. She lowered the tablet slightly. "Well, the main concern is ensuring equitable access and preventing job displacement without adequate retraining programs. It's a huge challenge, but also an opportunity for governments and heroes like you to step in, to advocate for the vulnerable, to ensure the benefits reach everyone, not just the privileged few." She looked at me, a thoughtful expression on her face, her eyes searching mine.
"Thank you, Kirei," I said, trying to maintain my Perman persona, forcing a sincere tone. "But I think you people are better in this than someone who just punches bad guys and saves cats from trees. Your knowledge of global economics is far more effective in this arena than my physical capabilities."
Kirei's eyes widened, then she let out a genuine, surprised laugh. "Uhh, I just said it for fun, Perman," she said, finally setting down her tablet, her coffee half-finished. "I didn't think you would take it so seriously." She smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made my heart do that weird flutter-kick again. It was a beautiful smile, free of any artifice. "I'm sorry, would you forgive this new friend of yours? I promise not to make fun of your heroic duties again."
"Look uninterested, but say thank you," the robot instructed, his voice as steady as a rock.
"Thank you, Kirei," I said, trying to infuse my voice with just the right amount of politeness without conveying overt enthusiasm. "I'm grateful for your time and expertise." I wondered what the Copy Robot wanted. Why the sudden shift to feigned disinterest? It was confusing.
"Hey, can you wait a little while longer?" she beamed, her eyes sparkling, a clear sign she wanted to prolong our conversation.
"I'm sorry, but I'm busy right now," I repeated, relaying the Copy Robot's perfectly formulated refusal. My apologies felt hollow, but his words were precise.
"Just give me a call anytime!" She scribbled something on a napkin with a flourish and pushed it across the table. It was her phone number, clearly written with a flourish.
My hand hovered over the napkin. I was supposed to take it, right? It was a polite gesture. But the robot had been so strict about not revealing identities, not getting too close, about maintaining professionalism. My human instincts screamed to take it, but my robotic guide was silent.
"Accept the contact information, Mitsuo," the robot's voice stated firmly, breaking the silence. "We can use her later."
I picked up the napkin, trying to look nonchalant, as if receiving phone numbers from pretty girls was an everyday occurrence for Perman. "Thank you," I said again, my voice a little stiff.
We finished our drinks, or rather, Kirei finished hers while I pretended to sip at mine. Her poodle nudged her hand, clearly eager for its morning walk. "Well, I guess I should let you get back to saving the world, Perman," she said, standing up. "It was great chatting with you! You're really quite... unique for a superhero."
"Indeed," I replied, standing as well, trying to match her polite dismissal.
"She's amazing, how could a person stay this positive and resilient after such direct, slightly insulting commentary? I'm saying this to you, Mitsuo, don't repeat it," the robot's voice crackled, a rare hint of genuine surprise in his tone.
Yeah, I thought, a sarcastic thought bubbling up. First you practically hurt someone's feelings by dismissing their jokes, then you say they are amazing if they didn't get mad. Wow, Copy Robot. Your social protocols are certainly… unique.
As we walked out of the cafe, the soft morning light bathed the street. Kirei's laughter echoed softly behind me as she playfully teased her poodle, her good mood apparently unmarred. I felt a strange surge of exhilaration mixed with bewilderment. I'd actually had a genuine, intelligent conversation with a smart, beautiful girl, and I'd even gotten her number! All thanks to my incredibly logical, slightly ruthless, Bluetooth-enabled clone. This was either going to be the best month of my life, or the most awkward. Probably both, in equal measure.