I love you too.

“They’re not sentient, Faust,” said Jin, sipping her coffee. “We are. That’s the difference.”

“They’re not sapient,” Faust corrected. “They’re plenty sentient. Have you ever heard of the mirror test?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It’s a cognitive test, used to determine if an animal is capable of self-recognition.” Faust borrowed a pen from a passing waitress and drew a dot on a napkin. He raised it to his forehead. “The animal is put under anaesthetics. While it sleeps, a marker is put on it and when it wakes, it’s put in front of a mirror. If the animal touches and investigates the marker through their reflection, then they are capable of perceiving it as themself and not another animal.”

“Let me guess: homunculi pass the test.”

“With flying colours. Most animals fail the test, including cats and dogs.”

“Great, so they have self-recognition. What does that matter?”

“It’s not just self-recognition, Ms Yurinhalt. Homunculi have the highest cognitive and emotional intelligence of any known animal, second only to humans. They form friendships, recognise faces, love and mourn. They can perform sign language far better than chimpanzees.”

“And they’re better than monkeys,” she noted. “What do you want us to do, give them human rights? Let them vote?”

“How about we start by not genociding them?”

“We were a divided nation. The homunculus threat brought us together again. I do think it went too far and I do regret that it’s happened at all, but at the end of the day, wasn’t it all worth it?”

“Who decides that, Ms Yurinhalt?” he prodded. “Who decides that?”

Jin sighed. “Can we just…not talk about this? It’s a nice day.”

She lowered her cup, looking down at the sea. The beach was busy today. White clouds rested motionlessly on the mountaintops, leaves stirred with every morning breeze. If she drowned out the chatter of the cafe and the hubbub of the beach, she could just hear the cicadas calling.

“You know.” Faust pushed his glasses up. “There’s one thing that makes homunculi unique over every other animal.”

“What?”

“We don’t know how we were created,” he explained. “Some say by chance, others say by miracle. It’s all a mystery. But homunculi know we created them.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Faust pondered the question for a while. “I can’t say. Would you rather never know why you were placed in this world, or have God tell you you’re livestock?”

“I’d rather never know.” A confident answer. “Our genetic purpose was procreation and preservation. Our lives were always meant to be in service of the survival of our species. We give it meaning by choice.”

“Oh, but Ms Yurinhalt,” Faust laughed. He began to unravel his scarf, layer by layer. The smell of sea-salt turned quickly to gasoline, the conversations of the crowd became gargled. Jin glanced down to find the brown of her coffee dyed red. “You know your purpose.”

He pulled off the fabric. A bleeding hole carved into his neck, a void where flesh should be. “You were put here to kill me.”

Jin woke up to the buzz of her alarm. She ran a hand through her hair, both drenched in sweat. The popcorn ceiling stared back, little knobs of plaster that always reminded her of smallpox. The air smelt neither of the sea nor oil, but rust; the same sort of odour that clung to her fingers after she held keys or coins. She was in her apartment. A familiar place, but not a pleasant one.

Most of the light coming through her window was artificial. The morning fog seemed to filter out the sun and sky, yet none of the neon billboards or hologram ads. Every few minutes, an aircraft passed overhead, bringing with it a flash of floodlights and a low rumble. She could not hear the cicadas calling anymore.

“The beach is busy today,” Jin whispered to herself.

“Mum?” a voice called from deep in the kitchen. “You awake already? It’s a Saturday.”

“Yeah,” she called back, rubbing the grog from her eyes. “I have to be somewhere in a bit so I set an alarm.”

“If you wanna get ready, I’ll throw some breakfast together.”

“Thanks.” Jin dragged herself to the bathroom. She stared into the mirror at her unkempt hair, bags under her eyes. Her abdomen was wrapped in bandages from the organ transplant, her chest layered with scars from the fight. She looked like shit. The sort of shit that no amount of make-up could fix.

Jin waved at her reflection and watched it wave back. She studied the motion of her fingers as she flexed them, the sensation of her skin against how it looked in the mirror. With one finger, she caressed the new scar on her cheek, angling it to the lamplight. Her reflection felt foreign. Her scar felt foreign. It was like the tint of the world was a single shade darker, or like a song that was slightly off-beat.

“Was work okay yesterday?” the voice asked. “You went straight to bed. Was it a bad day?”

“Not bad.” Jin splashed her face with cold water. “I was just tired.”

“Hmph. You said you had plans today?”

“I have to get a psych eval.”

“What’s that?”

“Psychiatric Evaluation. It’s like…going to see a doctor, but for your mind.”

“Why, are you sick?”

“No, they’re just checking up on me,” she explained. “Seeing if I’m healthy and all before I can go back on duty.”

“Oh. I hope you can go back to work soon then!”

“Yeah.” Jin took a final look at herself. “I hope so too.”

After getting changed and tying up her hair, she took a seat at the table. Her neural interface already loaded the morning news onto her vision, and she spent some time browsing them while breakfast cooked.

As expected, the execution of Dimitri Faust made every headline. The federation would never let such an opportunity for propaganda go by, and every article went into great detail describing the events.

Firing squad, they reported. Shot in every non-lethal spot and left to bleed out. A purposefully slow death. The gazette even claimed Faust cried and begged for mercy right before he died.

As much as everyone harped on about forgiveness and compassion, once public opinion deemed someone deserving of scorn, it was back to throwing stones and burning at the stake.

In accordance with policy, nothing about Jin nor the homunculus attack were mentioned.

“Alright, breakfast is ready! I really hope I didn’t burn the bacon.”

“Don't fuss about it.” Jin turned off her interface. “I like a little char.”

A girl emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming plate. She wore a frilly dress behind her apron, her golden hair done up in a simple braid and tied back with a blue ribbon. It was typical of her to wear her school uniform everywhere, even on weekends, so Jin was glad she changed clothes for once.

“Voila!” she beamed, laying the plate before her. Soybean porridge and synthetic meat cut into thin strips to resemble bacon. “Breakfast. Is. Served!”

“Thank you, Maria.” Jin scraped the meat to the edge of the plate. Something about its beige colour and clay-like texture set her off, today especially. Instead, she took a spoonful of porridge and ate.

“How’d I do, mum? How’d I do?”

There was no flavour. Not to say that the porridge was bland, only that she made no effort to taste it. She chewed, she swallowed, and she reached for the next spoonful. “It’s delicious, honey. I love it.”

“Yay!” Maria clapped her hands lightly. “I was going to add butter but we ran out so I was scared it wouldn’t taste good without it.”

“Your cooking’s always good.” She took a few more bites. “I have to get going soon, else I miss the appointment. Will you be staying here?”

“I wanted to grab some groceries in a bit. Are you okay with curry for dinner?”

“Sounds great. There’s some money by my bedside.”

“I don’t need paper money, mum. You know I can pay with my interface.”

Jin rushed the rest of the porridge and stood. “Maria always paid with money.”

“Oh.” Her eyes glowed, calibrating the new information. “Alright, I’ll use them.”

“Good girl.” Jin took her winter coat off its hanger and armed her pistol in its holster. First rank and higher Runners were allowed to carry more weapons, but until she finished her psychiatric evaluation, the pistol was all she had. While she put on her shoes, her interface gave her all the predicted weather and traffic for the day. No rain, heavy smog, best to avoid the traffic jam on route 5.

“Wait, mum, before you leave.”

Jin turned back. “Yeah?”

The girl jumped at Jin, pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her on the cheek. Her arms and lips were cold to the touch. Her silver eyes were concentric circles, each expanding and shrinking like the lens of a camera, adjusting to Jin’s movements.

“Love you, mum,” the girl played back.

Jin did her best to smile. “I love you too.”