"So, like... speaking hypothetically. Just to help me get my head around the whole. Biometric key. Thing. If - if, again, purely hypothetically, I told you to kill… that guy. There, across the street. In the overcoat. You'd do it?"

"Automatically. Like breathing."

The hacker wets their lips, knowing they shouldn't ask, unable to resist. "How?"

"Dunno." The machine tilts her head, studying the stranger in the long coat like a curious dog. The hacker still can't think of her as an it. They've seen the file, the photograph of the woman this instrument was made from. "Snap his neck, let's say. He wouldn't feel it much. A little time, while the heart and the lungs turn off. Then lights."

"Oh." The hacker pushes a hand through their hair. It comes back damp. "I feel sick."

"Better watch what you say to me, then. Boss."

"Stop it," they say. She's been doing it since they figured out how to make her stop hunting them. They just wanted to be safe, not... whatever this is. "Stop calling me that."

"Yes, sir."

"No – no, that's worse," desperate now, "please, stop it, can't you just talk to me like a person?"

"Why? So you can keep kidding yourself about the nature of this relationship? You own me now. You are the finger on the trigger, you are central command. If you want me to speak to you in a certain way, I suggest you exercise your authority and make me."

Silence.

"Can we... Can you go back to calling me 'boss'. At least. Sir is... just..."

"Sure. We can do that."