Tokyo Love (2 page)

Kathleen managed to stand in front of Yuriko, holding her briefcase at her back. She used to hold it to her chest, worrying about someone being able to easily pickpocket her. But the priority had quickly shifted to making sure no strange dude could, even unintentionally, feel up her butt. Besides, while perverts existed in Japan, petty theft did not.

Even before the door chimes ended, about ten more people shoved their way onto the train. Kathleen was pressed against Yuriko's flouncy blouse and she gave her an apologetic smile. Yuriko shrugged it off, looking away. She was probably just as grateful as Kathleen to be shoved up against at least one person who wasn't a sweaty Japanese man. Not that Kathleen was a pile of roses after Tokyo humidity and her hard workday, but at least she hadn't needed to wear a three-piece suit.

The doors closed and the train started moving. Kathleen couldn't even feel it jerk into motion, half because the trains partially floated off the tracks, and half because there was about a thousand pounds of flesh cushioning her. It was a thought that didn't comfort her.

It was quiet in the train. No one spoke on their phones. A few people whispered to one another], and she could hear someone's headphones on high volume, the tinny music escaping. She looked up to Yuriko. “Which building do you work in?”

Yuriko's eyes were on the holo maps of the train line, floating above everyone's heads. Kathleen realized that her eyes were a startling shade of blue and she wondered if it was natural or cosmetic. “I travel between work sites.” Her voice was short.

Kathleen wondered if she had done something to piss her off. Probably just by being an annoying foreigner. “Oh, I see.” She shut up, looking away.

Yuriko sighed, closing her eyes. “Sorry. I had a difficult day. My main office is in Shinjuku.”

Kathleen still wasn't sure if Yuriko was going to be friendly now. “I work in the Shinjuku office as well. But I guess Engineering is on another floor.”

Yuriko looked like she was holding back a smirk. “Undoubtedly.”

Kathleen knew she should shut up while she was ahead. But it was just so damned nice to talk to someone in real English. “Your English is really good.”

“Thank you. My father is American.”

That explained the last name, and the accent, and the blue eyes. “I'm from America too!” That got her a
No shit, Sherlock
eyebrow raise from Yuriko. “I mean, I'm from Illinois. Champagne. Where is your father from?”

“I was born in Milwaukee.”

Now Kathleen was feeling like an ass. For the first few months she was here she used to call back home, complaining how every Japanese person treated her like a stereotype. Just some dumb American who spoke too loud and couldn't be bothered to learn Japanese. Not that it wasn't true. But Kathleen thought she was pretty good at the bowing thing. Of course, not every person in Japan was from Japan or even Japanese. Kathleen had just gotten too used to it, considering all of her coworkers fit the mold.

“Well, that's cool.” She finished, hoping it didn't sound as lame as she thought.

Yuriko was hiding another grin, so it probably was. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, causing her chest to press gently against Kathleen's. “Sorry, I'm just really tired and we had a crisis at the test site in Saitama today.”

“Crisis?” Kathleen couldn't help but be curious. Mashida was a huge corporation with thousands of products and departments. The crisis was unlikely to affect her.

“Yeah, the new PLCs were malfunctioning. Apparently, this new coding has managed to mash up the wires. When prompted with the new programming, it freezes all movement for about thirty seconds until it can reconfigure.”

PLC—or Perfect Love Companion—was Mashida's premier line of AI life-sized dolls. Computer sim lovers and sex dolls had been around for decades. It was only a matter of time before Mashida finally perfected the physical synthetic lover. No more touch-less holograms. No more dull-eyed mechanical dolls. The Perfect Love Companion was to be the ideal blend. A lover you could talk to, go on dates with, and who would look just like any other person.

For decades, people—mainly Japanese men—had been carrying around their virtual girlfriends on their phones; now they could hold their hand. No more would men have to settle for a lifeless doll. This one would be just as attentive, just as loving as your computer.

PLC was the reason Kathleen had been taken from her safe job in Illinois. She'd been programming the virtual lovers for five years now, and her big break was to program a sim who was destined to be more than a holo image.

Kathleen suddenly groaned, rubbing her wrist against her leg to pull her sleeve up to look at her bracelet mobile. She had set it to silent after leaving work, not wanting the distraction while she attempted to navigate the trains. But Yuriko's words had given her a bad feeling she had probably missed an email.

Lo and behold, an urgent email was waiting for her on her bracelet mobile. “Damn,” she murmured. She touched her middle finger to her palm, opening up the email.

PLC 10.6 beta malfunction. S/A code movement compromise hardware in Saitama. Full report attached.

F

Yuriko raised an eyebrow. “Software Development, right? Let me guess, you're a part of the new PLC project?”

Kathleen didn't have the movement of her other hand to send an email, nor did she want to voice one in front of Yuriko. Instead, she tapped her fingers and sent an automatic text.

Will report later.

K

“I'm
running
the new PLC project.”

Yuriko actually looked a little impressed. “Explain to me then why you had to change the old code for, of all things, a simple shoulder movement?”

“A shrug. It's to make them shrug.”

“A shrug? What was wrong with the old code?”

Kathleen shrugged herself. “It was stiff,
robotic
. PLC has the potential for smooth, minute movements. Why not take advantage?”

“Because it crashes the hardware.”

“Maybe the hardware needs an update as well.”

Yuriko no longer looked impressed. Kathleen flushed in embarrassment. She blamed her day for her rudeness. She was constantly criticized by Engineering for pushing the limits of the technology; it seemed she had finally run into her limit.

“Look, I'm—”

“We need to change trains here.” Yuriko pushed past her to exit the packed train.

Kathleen was temporarily thrust into the throng of strangers, but quickly recovered enough to follow. Luckily, Yuriko's force managed to form a path in the sea of bodies. Together, they crossed the platform to the next departing train. While it was still full, at least they weren't pressed against each other like the last train. Yuriko settled with one shoulder against the door, staring out the window. Kathleen stood awkwardly in the aisle, holding to a seat bar for stability. She stared at Yuriko, wondering if there was any hope of salvaging the conversation.

Unfortunately, this train ride was shorter than the last. When they entered the station, Yuriko turned to Kathleen, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Look, I've got to stop at the
konbini
. I assume you know where you are now?”

Kathleen nodded. “Yes, thank you. I mean … ” She bowed, feeling a little ridiculous, but she knew it was the right gesture. “I'm sorry.”

Yuriko sighed, tugging at the end of her ponytail. “Don't worry about it. And if you find yourself lost again, just text me, okay? We obviously live in the same area, so it probably wouldn't be too inconvenient.” She gave a small smile, but it looked a little impatient. “Try not to overhaul the code again tonight. I'd like to get to bed early.”

Kathleen smirked, feeling a little better. “Thanks, Vellucci-
san
.”

Yuriko waved a hand. “Yuriko is fine. Vellucci-
san
just sounds weird with your accent.”

When Yuriko was eleven, she found her dad working in the shed out back on his old 2017 Trinix Hybrid. It was one of the last cars ever made that still used fossil fuels to help it run. It was terribly clunky and loud and dirty. Her dad liked to tinker with it, trying to improve the technology, but still keep that classic style.

He used to work on it whenever he fought with Yuriko's mother.

So Yuriko, whenever she felt upset or torn or confused, used to go into that shed and bang around that old car. She loved being up to her elbows in oil, practically inhaling the toxic fumes. It was amazing. Her dad had been working on that junker for ten years with little progress. Yuriko turned it into a fully automated electric car within nine months. And she gave it a new wax.

Yuriko loved to see how machines worked. From the delicate modern nanotechnology, to clunky antiques. They were all fascinating and beautiful. They all deserved a bit of tinkering and improving.

When Yuriko first saw the Personal Love Companion project, she thought it was creepy, if not insane. Love simulations had always been virtual reality based. Anything physically made by those same companies was a sex toy. But the PLC promised so much more. The programming might be weird, but the machines, the dolls, were like art. They were beautiful and refined. They were the cutting edge of robotics and Yuriko hadn't cared that she would be helping to bring more perverted computer programs into the world. She wanted to be on the ground floor of those machines.

Yuriko examined the hydraulic tubing of the PLC 10.6. The PLC was laid before her, all wires and tubes and valves and lightweight steel boning. It did not have a skin on. Since that would be customized, only a few were given default skins for the purpose of testing. The skin would only get in the way of Yuriko's work. She didn't need it. Even without eyes or eyelids on the PLC, she could see the fine motors moving synthetic pads to widen or narrow. Even without teeth or lips, she could recognize a smile or grimace. Yuriko had been with these PLCs since the 2.0 beta and she didn't need all the bells and whistles to understand them.

The hydraulic tubing would pump cooling water to overheating areas, simultaneously heating itself to make the synthetic skin warm to the touch. But it had been faulty since the PLC 5.3. The more complex the mechanics got, the more the bulky hydraulics failed.

She poked at a junction point, trying to visualize a way to make it more streamlined and secure.

Her wrist buzzed with a new email. It was a mass email sent to her department. Yuriko tapped it.

New patch from SD on the S/A malfunction. Testing in Shinjuku.

Yuriko's eyes widened. Software development had sent in a new code for the shoulder malfunction? It was only yesterday that it broke down. The whole situation was still under review and Yuriko was expecting an email about it in the afternoon. Then the real drama would unfold of how the problem would be fixed and, more importantly,
who
would have to fix it.

For software to just send out a new code without prompting was nearly unheard of. She stepped away from the PLC, turning to look around.

Mitsu was standing at one of the computer stations, writing in a report. She was wearing a white lab coat as was required in the testing sites. Its stark whiteness was offset by a rather large glittering red bow in Mitsu's hair.

“Mitsu-
san
?” Yuriko called.

Mitsu turned, pouting. Her lip-gloss was even glittering. “Mitsu-
chan
,” she corrected.

Yuriko rolled her eyes. “
People will think you're my favorite
,” she replied in Japanese.

“
I am your favorite
!”

Yuriko couldn't help but grin. “
Okay, okay. Did you see the email for the new patch? Can you input it into this model?
” She motioned to the PLC lying in front of her.

“
Hai
!” Mitsu turned back to the computer. A few taps and Yuriko could see the diagnostic display for the PLC in front of her. A couple of warning signals popped up and Yuriko reached over the PLC and closed a couple valves that she had opened while testing. The screen went green and Yuriko nodded to Mitsu.

Mitsu typed a couple of commands into the computer. Yuriko stepped back as the PLC before her twitched. The eyeless eyes opened and the retina lights flickered on, scanning the area. Since this PLC wasn't programmed with a cortex scan, it wouldn't be able to process much besides anything that might be in its path.

Following Mitsu's instructions, it sat up and swung its legs over the side of the table. It sat straight and stiff. A light blinked on in its head, just behind the ear, reading the next instruction.

Then it slumped its shoulders, cocking its head to Yuriko. The muscles in the lips pulled back into a lazy smile. And then it shrugged.

Mitsu came to stand beside Yuriko. The PLC repeated the motion. Then used its other shoulder.

“
No issues
?” Yuriko asked.

Mitsu shook her head. “
It looks … good.
”

It did look good. It was just a slight movement. But all the mechanics in the shoulder moved in time with a slight tilt of the head. Minute and precise. Nothing jammed up, nothing tried to compensate or obstruct the movement.

The lazy smile was new. But Yuriko supposed that was just the simulation the development team decided to send out as an example. She remembered Kathleen Schmitt's words.

PLC has the potential for smooth, minute movements. Why not take advantage?

There had always been a mutually antagonistic feeling between the software and hardware development teams. They both worked so separately while needing to come together to make a full product. It was often felt by Yuriko's team that they were the ones who needed to pick up the pieces of a mess made by software. They always had to adapt to the code, never the other way around. They had to fix the problems made by the programming. They were the ones criticized when it failed.