“Could a toaster commit premeditated murder?” Mr. Anderson asked.

What a stupid, stupid question, Poppy thought.

Nonetheless, Poppy let the sentence ruminate in her head, like nuts and bolts in a tin can. Well, her head technically was assorted with nuts and bolts, but that wasn’t what she should focus on at the moment.

Anderson, a drab, frumpy looking man in a checkered autumn colored suit sat across the table from Poppy. His nametag, a cheap little sticker had the first two letters of his first name, Mar-something, that was quickly etched out and replaced with just “Anderson.” The sharpie marker he wrote it with was smudged.

The room they sat in was practically a closet. It looked like an interrogation room, if not for the heavy florescent lighting above filling the holographic walls with a brilliant light. Words of advertisements and a large logo from the company, “Galacore” flashed in turquoise letters.

The spinning world of Neptune hung in the center of the room. It spun like one of those old disco balls from the twentieth century.

If this Guest Body Poppy was downloaded in had the functionality to smile or express any emotion at all, she would be in hysterics.

He twiddled his thumbs on the boxy square table. Poppy knew that he was waiting for the answer from her, but she had some time to answer.

“I’m running a few tasks,” Poppy said. “My memory is assessing your question.” She kept her face still. Robotic, in its natural state. .

It was all bullshit. She had no tasks to do, she just forgot to answer.

It was against the rules to lie to the Assessor, but she could make a few exceptions every now and then. She could thank Luca for those special “customizations” that bent the rules just a little.

Humans didn’t really like it when Androids of her class attempted emotion. It was either they laugh until they puke, or they act as if they just saw something they shouldn’t. Creepy, uncanny, as humans called it.

“Ms. Poppy?” Anderson said. His voice shook. He adjusted the rim of his glasses. Poppy sat in the chair across from him and thought about how she looked. Scary, it must be.

A trickle of sweat went down his brow.

God, what a horrible suit, Poppy thought.

“Sir?” Poppy said.

He jolted in his seat. “Y-Yes?”

“I’m ready to answer now,” Poppy said. “May I, sir?” Sir. She hated calling him sir. But, being a level four class Android had its drawbacks, as if it had any benefits.

God, she wanted to go home.

“You may,” he said. His voice picked up a little.

“Thank you,” She said softly. Be polite. Be nice. There was poster that said the exact thing behind the brown hairpiece of Anderson’s clearly balding head.

LEVEL FOUR ANDROIDS/ROBOTS CODE OF CONDUCT:

1) Politeness is Mandatory. Kindness is free.

2) Cantankerous or aggressive Level Four Androids will be reprogrammed by a Level One Android.

3) Guest Body Supervision: All internal emotions of Level Four Androids will be monitored for aggressive thought patterns.

• No hacking

• No cheating

• No altering default settings

• NO EXCEPTIONS

4) No harm shall come to the Assessor for the outcome of the Turing results. All grievances shall be addressed to the manager by the owner of the Level Four Android ONLY.

What a load, Poppy thought. The more she thought about it, the less nice she wanted to be. But she promised Luca that she would try her best.

“Yes,” Poppy said. “A toaster can commit premeditated murder.”

Anderson arched an eyebrow. He picked up a rectangle of glass that was size of his palm. It had rounded edges. It was a Clear-screen.

“And how so?” Anderson said. He pressed his hand on the screen and it lit up. He took two sides of the edges and stretched the screen like putty, though the screen maintained its rectangular form when it was done.

He typed at a rhythmic speed.

Poppy ignored this act and continued on.

“It’s clear to me that whoever bought the toaster wasn’t aware of its murderous rage,” Poppy said.

Anderson stopped typing. He looked at her, puzzled.

“Excuse me?” He said.

Poppy couldn’t stop.

“Clearly when the owner of the toaster went to the store, he wasn’t aware that it was giving him the signal that it was about to kill. That inside its silver facade, was the mastermind of a cold blooded murderer.”

Anderson’s eyes widened. His eyes darted to the screen and he typed even faster than before.

“G-Go on,” he said. His voice trembled.

“So the guy just brings the toaster home, and sits it on his table, right?” Poppy said. “Being a Level Five machine, it can’t technically make the decision to kill a human, that’s against the law—”

“Poppy, are you serious?” Anderson said. She saw he pulled up her file on the glass screen and skimmed through it. “You’re a Level Four Android right?”

“Yep.” Poppy said. “But if the toaster constantly allows the human to eat burnt toast, then it’s carcinogenic right?”

Anderson just leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t typing anymore. His hands rested on the counter and his mouth sat agape. Poppy continued on.

“After a while, the guy just drops dead.” Poppy said. “And then, the only person to blame is the toaster, for letting the human make such terrible decisions.”

Anderson sat in the chair, just staring at Poppy with what she could only describe as a mixture of horror and disbelief.

“Am I done now?” Poppy chirped.

                                     ***

“What the hell was that?” Luca shouted in the car. She held up a piece of paper to Poppy’s portable screen that was attached to the car’s navigation system. It wasn’t home, but it was much more comfortable than being stuck inside a guest body being practically tortured.

They drove down Montrose at noon coming home from the Assessor Facility. Montrose was a pretty trendy area in Houston that was adding a docking station into a main port for Galacore’s ships to come in. The ships themselves looked like giant foot long hot dogs soaring across the sky. Normally, Luca would make some dirty joke about it, but right now she wasn’t laughing.

Traffic was backed up and run over street cones littered the street. Luca ran over a few herself.

“They asked me if a toaster would commit murder,” Poppy said.

“Yeah, it’s the Turing Test!” Luca said, “They ask stupid shit like that to test your humanity or whatever!”

“Human my ass,” Poppy said. “They basically asked me if I would ever commit murder, that’s what they were saying.”

“Well?” Luca said. “What exactly did you say to get this kind of low empathy rating? Seriously a ten out of forty is not ok!”

Poppy huffed. “All I said was hypothetically that a toaster could kill someone if it wanted to.”

“You scored so well on all the other subjects,” Luca said. She threw the small piece of paper into the passenger’s seat. “They said you were creative, intelligent, but that you just are—.”

“—Too amazing, I know,” Poppy said. “But I need to think of all the little people who need me, like you Luca.”

“You don’t listen!” Luca said. “Now I can’t…” Her voice raised a little. Poppy wanted to shrink into something small, miniscule. It wasn’t often that Luca was this mad.

“You can’t what Luca?” Poppy said.

Luca sighed. “It’s nothing.”

Poppy stayed quiet. She didn’t want to make Luca mad at her anymore. It wasn’t funny.

Luca spoke up. “Are you updating the online forum?”

“Daily.”

“Good. Just keep doing that,” she said. “You’re good at it.”

“Thank you,” Poppy said quietly. Even with the compliment, there was something that Poppy couldn’t put her finger on. They drove home in silence.