The Human Inside

Chapter 28

Amborg Personal Files: Transitional Period

Subject: Missy Three

Two weeks after leaving A.I. Industries.

    "I have never seen such good credentials. So you say that the restaurant you previously worked for was blown up during the battle of New York?"

    3 nodded curtly. The head chef was sitting across from her, reading the resume that she had sent. He didn't remember seeing any job postings being sent out to the public. Yet there it was, a very spectacular looking resume on his desk. At the time he didn't have much to do, since everyone was working to repair all the damage from the war. So he figured he might as well read it. Very interested in the applicant, he gave her a call and here they were.

    "Oh yes," she spoke out-loud as clearly as possible.

    There were some parts of her throat that felt scratchy but 3 was slowly getting used to it. She had practiced using her real voice for days in an attempt to sound as authentically human as possible. Minus the fact that her identity had been completely forged.

    "I have been looking for work since what happened in New York and then this whole crazy deal with the amborgs in Pennsylvania was just so terrifying!"

    "I can imagine," the chef said nodding in agreement, "Well, I don't see why you can't be a part of this place. Your accomplishments here are pretty incredible. I have never seen anyone who looks so young but has also accomplished all of... Well. This."

    "You should put more salt on that!" 3 said sharply.

    "What?"

    The waiter she had snapped at jumped but the chef waved him away. Carefully balancing the tray of food, the waiter walked away muttering under his breath. 3 immediately bit her lip and turned off her visual analysis program.

    I'm supposed to be human. Human. Human. Human. She thought as she silently punished herself. No super vision allowed.

    "Oops," she muttered. Chuckling nervously as the head chef turned his attention back to her. "Sorry, I uhh, I just have this passion for food and... uhh, I can just tell."

    The chef stared suspiciously but nodded slowly. He then stood, with her resume in hand, pushed his seat in and walked away. She hoped she hadn't accidently scared him away.

    "Who knows," he said waving her resume for her to see, "You just might teach me something. Ms..."

    He stared back at the application to try and remember her name.

    "Melissa Carson," 3 said confidently. "Thank you for accepting me."

    "It's nice to meet a fellow chef who's polite in a city like this. You start next Monday," the chef joked as he walked away.

    This slightly confused 3. She looked around. Newly christened with her new name, she examined her surroundings.

    "People in New York aren't polite?" she asked out loud but the chef had already disappeared into the back.

    "Ever been to Jersey?" a customer from behind asked rhetorically. "Get used to the area quick otherwise all those leeches are going to eat your nice personality up like a sponge."

    3 turned and gave the customer a smile.