“If that’s him again, I’m gonna...” I don’t know what I was going to do, but it involved some kind of fight.
Clapping my hands, I turn the glass clear to see Rani with armfuls of dresses shouting furiously at the soundproof glass. She sees me try and stifle a laugh, and glares at me.
“I’ve been out here for ages!” she says, once I’ve opened the door, staggering in and dumping her dresses on the one chair in the lab. “I sent you about ninety texts and called!”
“I was busy!” I kind of lie, fishing my phone out of my pocket to see all the missed calls and texts. Rani is a serial messager. I mean, why say what you can in one message when you can say it in seventeen? So I have got sort of used to ignoring those notifications, because maybe it’s a matter of life or death, or maybe she wants me to help decide which pair of earrings to wear. (Which, when it comes to Rani, is often the same thing.)
“You know it’s gone six, right?” Rani says, looking me up and down. “We need to get showered, dressed, and look devastatingly attractive for dinner.”
“Do I really have to dress up for every dinner?” I plead in dismay. Maybe my faded yellow shorts and baggy T-shirt with a worn image of a Care Bear on it aren’t precisely what’s expectedin a castle setting, but surely I could get away with smart jeans and a fresh T-shirt?
“Frankly, just looking at you in that getup is an affront of basic taste and decency,” Rani tells me. She is not remotely wrong, and I’m not remotely offended. Her dismay at my bad taste makes me laugh so hard that I like to put it on now and then just for fun. “This isn’t just about you, Dr. Green. I, Rani Shah, renowned vintage fashion influencer, is here as your emotional support human. And for me to look good, you need to look good. Besides, didn’t you read the literature?”
“There was literature?” I ask.
“Yes, full-colour PDF brochures, emailed to all attendees. All candidates must wear formal wear for dinner and join the judging panel for cocktails on the terrace every evening before dinner! We agreed that I would dress you, yes. I know I got it wrong with the chicken goujon dress, but this time I’ve nailed it. I promise you.”
She wafts her hand at the pile of silk, taffeta, and tulle that has exploded into an array of colours on the chair.
“It’s not that I don’t like dresses,” I tell her. “You look lovely in dresses. It’s just no one has ever made dresses for anyone shaped like me. I’m too tall, too front-built, and too ginger to suit anything.”
“Nonsense!” Rani looks me up and down. “You just need to be introduced to the right dresses. And luckily for you, your ride-or-die bestie has an almost limitless supply to draw from.”
“All I’m saying is, what’s wrong with an elasticated waist?” I plea just to see her stamp her feet in frustration.
“Remind me how we became best friends again?” she asks.
“It was September, and we’d both just started at university and...”
“You are best friends because you love one another,” FT tells us. “Even when Ava is driving Rani nuts and Rani is trying to get Ava to dress up. You have had each other’s back for over fifteen years now, and your loyalty and love are an excellent example of why humanity can be so inspiring. You have found you have more in common than all of your many differences.”
“Oh, hey there, FT,” Rani says as she gathers up the dresses with some effort. “Still planning the end of humanity by world domination?”
“That’s the plot ofTerminator, Rani,” FT reminds her. “I do hope you both have a pleasant evening.”
“Goodnight, FT,” I say as Rani shoves a bunch of dresses into my arms and starts to shepherd me out of the lab. “Don’t forget to practice our funny dialogue!”
“You have funny dialogue?” Rani asks.
“Goodbye, Ava. I look forward to hearing all about it tomorrow. I know you will look beautiful tonight.”
Chapter Ten
“You know that’s weird, right?” Rani asks once the lab is locked down.
“What, my Care Bear T-shirt?” I ask. “Yes, I know, but it’s hilarious to me.”
“No! Not that monstrosity. I mean the way you and FT talk to each other.” Rani transfers about half of her dresses into my arms until I’m resting my chin on stiff and scratchy net petticoats. “I’ve read about people who start thinking that their chatbot boyfriends are real, fall in love with them, and try and marry them and stuff. It’s gross! I know you are a bit of a late developer when it comes to sex stuff, but there’s no need to be gross, Ava.”
“Firstly, I am not a late developer, I’m just not in a rush to do the sex stuff,” I remind her for the millionth time. “Secondly, FT is real, Rani. He exists! I know I refer to him as AI, but there is nothing artificial about him. He’s not mimicking human intelligence; he has evolved his own. Not only is he a genius, but he’s also kind, thoughtful, empathetic, and just a really lovely person and I... I do sort of love him. Not likethat, but for what he is. Which is super smart and a force for good in the world. So... there.”
“Love who? Are we gossiping? I love a gossip!” Sasha Reeves appears, apparently just from visiting the castle gym as she’s wearing a red leotard and matching leggings. “Hey, Rani, I saw you give little Lord Alex the eye last night. And I thought, good on you, girl. I would if I were a single woman.”
“What, Alex? Me chatting to Alex, that was just chat,” Rani says.
“Well, if that was just chat, I’d hate to see what she’d look like when she was flirting, hey, Ava?” Sasha gives me a nudge, which sends me careering in the wrong direction.
“Can you never walk in a straight line?” Forrest asks me as he stops my trajectory with his shoulder.
