He watched as the professor worked on her latest project. The hardware was ready. It was the software that wasn’t complete yet.
As he watched, he wondered if the professor had been as meticulous with his software as she was with this new android, the one she claimed would be her ‘best one yet’ to herself when her spirits ran low.
Was he not enough? Why did the professor need a new android? Was he incomplete?
The question ran in his mind day after day, until he finally couldn’t take it any longer and confronted the professor. But in the face of his questions, she only showed confusion.
“What do you mean? You’re not an android.”
He frowned. “Of course I am. Look at my arms.”
He thrust out his hands, showing the lines that ran down his carbon fibre limbs.
“You’re not an android. Those are prosthetic limbs. Your legs are the same too. Most of your body, actually. You were caught in a very bad accident. But you still have your human parts.”
The professor reached over to tug his hair.
“Feel that? That’s your real hair. Androids don’t have hair. Not their own, anyway.”
Him? Human? But how?
“Have you been thinking you’re an android this whole time?” the professor asked.
His silence was answer enough.
The professor set down her tools.
“That won’t do. Come on.”
The professor offered her hand to her, just like the first memory he had of her. He put a tentative hand in hers.
“It’s time to set some things straight.”
Genre: science fiction maybe?