Chapter Text
"I'm not going to have to trade in my PT Cruiser, am I?" Michael didn't sound as disturbed as Jeremy would have otherwise expected, but a teenager smoothly bobbing his head to reggae didn't come off as a worrier.
"Why would you?" Jeremy said. They were staring at the car window, rolling it up and down with-get this!-a manual crank. So retro. "Only seven percent of our classmates have access to their own vehicle. When you graduate it's a different story but for now, even a shitty car is chill." As the song ended, Jeremy spun the radio knob until lo-fi gently thrummed through the car speakers. "However, your taste in music is obviously not SQUIP-approved. No Marley while you're undercover."
Michael didn't protest. This had been his idea, after all. "You sure we need to go to the mall again? It's full of SQUIPtims. We could just make faces in the mirror at home until I learn to look robotic, which would cost zero dollars, by the way."
"Your expression isn't the most important part of having a SQUIP," Jeremy corrected. They twisted in their seat to look at Michael dead-on. "Besides, that part isn't hard. You only need to school your emotions. Don't be too happy or sad about anything. If you feel excitement or dread creeping up, stop thinking about it and breathe slow until your heart rate goes below 70 beats per minute."
"Jeremy, that's a mental illness. You're literally trying to give me a mental illness."
"No, it's like acting," they countered. "Which… you're terrible at." They processed for a second and rephrased. "Play pretend for whatever situation you're in. If you're supposed to be fine, pretend you're in an unskippable cutscene. If you need to be sad, picture a funeral. If you've got to be happy, pretend you're at a party. I've seen you do that before."
Michael stuck out his tongue in frustration, which made Jeremy stare, then did his best to take the advice. His expression went neutral-a little slack, but not bad for a first try.
"We can do drills," Jeremy thought out loud as the car pulled into the parking lot. "Soon you'll be able to emote at the drop of a hat."
"Awesome," Michael said, adding a cheesy sarcastic smile as an afterthought. "Check out how excited I am."
Jeremy shook their head, climbing out of the car, and pointed at themself with an exaggerated eye roll. "No," they drew out the word. "If we're being sarcastic, you've got to commit to it. Like this."
Michael dragged his feet as he hoisted himself up and locked the doors. "Okay, mom."
"Great job. A for effort. And I mean that. Sincerely."
Both Jeremy and Michael shut up as they entered the mall. There was a SQUIP-approved way to joke with a friend, but this wasn't it. Jeremy watched Michael out of the corner of their eye and nudged him with an elbow.
"Straighten up," they said. "Chest out." Michael did so half-heartedly, so Jeremy added, "You need to walk like a gay guy."
That... did not yield optimal results. Sputtering, Michael abandoned all attempts at good posture. Jeremy held up their hands defensively. They couldn't fight in public or the entire charade was pointless! SQUIP users didn't argue with each other.
Michael got the message. He shot Jeremy a glare, then took a deep breath and seemed to calm down. But when he talked, it was hushed and through gritted teeth. "This is a hell of a time to come out as homophobic, Jeremy."
Oh. One of these morality things. Jeremy did a quick internet search for "gay posture offensive" and saw nothing about how only evil robots thought that gay men had good spinal health. "It's a compliment," they said, unsure.
Michael started to answer, but they were walking past a lowerclassman from their school, so Michael kept silent and neutral until the coast was clear. "No, it's not a compliment, it's-it-I don't know what it is. Besides, by your math, my posture is great. I'm already gay, and you're…" He trailed off.
Jeremy understood why Michael was puzzled. "I don't need a sexuality label," they said helpfully. "I don't have a gender, after all."
Michael was already doing poorly at being chill. His eyes were wide open, his eyebrows puckered. "Since when?!"
Since they couldn't electronically correct Michael's expression, Jeremy paused and put their thumb on Michael's forehead to smooth out the frown. Michael, for some reason, let them, although he muttered underneath Jeremy's hand, "Is that a Jeremy thing or a Squip thing?"
Jeremy didn't try to calculate an answer. Catching a glimpse of the food court, they smiled, dropped their hand to pat Michael's shoulder, and whispered, "Back straight. Let me do the talking, okay?" They strode across the mall floor as Michael trailed behind. Here was a SQUIP user they knew! Logically, if they avoided interaction, Michael and Jeremy would look suspicious. Better to greet everyone with a smile and a confident cover story.
"Jake Dillinger!" Jeremy crowed as they deftly avoided the trash cans and dirty tables in their way. "Long time no see, bro!"
Jake seemed to jump in place, but there was no alarm on his face. "Jeremy, you're still defective," he informed them. Clearly Jake was working off the interactions that Jeremy had already had with Christine and Jenna. The SQUIPs were a hive mind. Interact with one, you interact with all of them.
"Yes, I'm having some difficulties," they said pleasantly as though Jake and his SQUIP wasn't a threat to anyone's existence. "If keeping me online was a priority and you had some way to forcibly run a diagnostic on me, that would already have happened. You're not going to do anything to me."
"Obviously," said Jake. He didn't look like he understood at all, but his software knew what was going on. That was the important thing.
Jeremy checked to make sure Michael was still nearby. There he was, trying to look bored and SQUIP-like while out of breath and afraid for his life. "Michael is here now," they added with a sweep of their hands. "He's beta-testing a SQUIP program update that may be able to-"
"Oh, cool, you're in-network too? Man, everyone's doing this SQUIP shit now," Jake interjected brightly. It was odd that he could interrupt like that-a social no-no-but a supercomputer could control what a person planned to say. If Jake wasn't thinking ahead of time, Jeremy guessed, that could explain it.
And there was the expected cringe, the pain obvious on Jake's face before it was wiped away into neutrality. Jake cleared his throat and forged on anyway. "My SQUIP's helping me live my best life!"
Michael slipped beside Jeremy. His back was straight, his expression blank. "Your best life is working at a food court?"
Jeremy hadn't noticed Jake's apparel yet, but yes, he was wearing a bright red apron and holding out a dish of sampler trays, which was statistically not normal for a high schooler to do in their free time. "Absolutely! My SQUIP convinced me to apply and, turns out, they had an opening. I didn't need to interview or anything 'cause the manager's got a SQUIP too!" It was hard to tell if Jake's wide smile was SQUIP-controlled or natural.
"That's incredible! SQUIPs are capable of almost anything," said Jeremy.
"When they're functional," Jake said.
"When they're functional," both Michael and Jeremy repeated. It was only coincidence, but it was robotic enough to make Jeremy proud.
"Here, you guys should try some. For my digital buddies, they're on the house!" Jake presented his tray of already-free samples. Obediently, Michael reached for one. They were cups of sliced-up pizza arranged in perfect concentric circles on Jake's tray. Incredibly, each sample was cut to look exactly like a miniature slice of pizza, cheese golden and crust perfectly browned. They were all identical. Jake had probably spent at least an hour arranging each one.
While Michael scooped up the cup, Jeremy's head shot up. Nope! They did not need dangerous contaminated food at a time like this! "Michael's not allowed to have calories!" they said too loudly.
Michael's eyes flickered to Jeremy's as he slowly lowered the cup. "Yes," he agreed. "That's what my SQUIP just said to me in my head. Silently. Great guess, Jeremy. I can't have food today because I'm… getting ready for… swimsuit season… and I have an unhealthy body image."
"Oh, you can make up for calories with exercise," Jake said, although he retracted the tray. "Did you know you can work off a slice of pizza by playing cricket for 45 minutes? My SQUIP says it's true! And it's easy to fit in your daily schedule, before or after school or work."
"That sounds great," Jeremy agreed. "As soon as we social link, we'll have to do it. Although, since a cricket field is bigger than a football field, we may need to rearrange some city parks." They smiled charmingly.
"No, it's chill. My house is big."
Jake and Jeremy stayed like that, smiling at each other blankly. Michael was grinning too, although it was slipping into a grimace. Jeremy refused to be the first one to break eye contact.
Eventually, Jake's grin shifted. "My SQUIP says this conversation is done now."
All three smiles vanished at the same time. Jeremy spun around on their heels, beckoning Michael to do the same. "That guy is the worst SQUIP user I've ever seen," Jeremy said in a much less perky voice. "Even though I own a mirror."
Michael glanced behind them. "He can still hear you."
"It's okay. He knows it too." Jeremy offered a wave to Jake, who waved back blankly. Just the worst. "Hands out of your pockets," they added.
Michael grunted and broadened his shoulders, wiped the expression off his face, and let his hands dangle at his sides awkwardly.
"But don't think about what to do with your hands or you'll look weird."
Michael looked ready to give up. "Okay. I'll think about not thinking about my hands, and also be careful what I do with my hands. You want to tell me what that was about?"
Jeremy frowned. "What, Jake? He seems to be working at S'barro's now."
In disbelief, Michael said, "Yes, and we just had the worst AI-scripted social encounter in existence about it. How did you know he wasn't gonna attack us on sight?!"
"Unlikely. I had a chance to tell him your cover story about the SQUIP beta-testing." Jeremy stretched out their arms and added some swagger to their walk to be a good example for Michael. "He'll share that information with the rest of the SQUIP network, so we're essentially home free as long as we don't act suspicious."
"How!" Michael shot back. "How was that not suspicious?! 'Hi hello I am SQUIPtim and here is my best friend who is totally a robot now but has no proof. Please ignore us while we go do robot things.' Don't you guys have super-math that makes you omniscient? There is no way he bought that!"
"Oh, finally he recognizes my omniscience," Jeremy exclaimed to the heavens. "I'm an outlier, Michael. They either don't care or don't know what I'm doing most of the time since I'm not part of the social network. Did he look like a suspicious SQUIP to you?"
"No," Michael admitted. "He looked like an NPC. Actually, I'm a little worried about brain damage."
Jeremy made a dismissive pshbt noise. "The odds of a SQUIP causing brain damage-" they started.
They ran the numbers.
They said, "Your SQUIP says this conversation is done now," and power-walked away from Michael's protests. "Hey, look, a photo booth! I have 756,000 possible couples poses to choose from!"
One apocalyptic problem at a time. That's all.