Planned Obsolescence

His cover was at the moment flexible and secure. 

mostly.

There were definitely some faults in his joints. 

Zedd could trouble shoot that though, a bit of the fix-it paste on it now should do the trick.

He would rather avoid a wardrobe malfunction.

He knew what it looked like, an android trying to skate on an old wadding cover, avoiding ‘maintenance’ but Zedd also knew the difference between an actual problem and a cheap way into a chopshop.

If the answer is even potentially tacky, or fabric based it was worth it. 

Besides temps were available at any hardware store, sure they were almost never the right color, but Zedd had no time to care about that. 

He was getting ready for a date of course, meeting, is there a colloquial & specific term for recreational platonic two person activities? 

Well, Zedd didn’t know that, he’d lost his wifi two days ago. 

Which should make sense of the whole paste the cracks, thing.

Rather than ordering a replacement.

Cindy was always nice about those kinds of foibles, she was even nice enough to help him with his joints at least when he brought it up.

It was happening more and more lately, that he couldn’t though.

Now being an Android he didn’t eat, but he knew that it was apparently important for food to be appropriately seasoned, which for a young american was by most other considerations rather bland.

Zedd wasn’t one to comment beyond processing, and the last thing he’d want to do was pass the Turing test while also being a dick. 

It was often when he attempted to apply his somewhat distanced understanding of humans, that Zedd would become... melocolic. 

Didn’t seem right to use modern clinicality in reference to himself. 

All the sparkling advancements in the world wouldn’t make him modern, he was considered a conventional simile of a human, but he wasn’t as advanced as other more recent iterations.

His movements as a free entity were as anachronistic as a nokia flip phone, and he knew it.

Cindy would laugh at him if he were to say it.

“I don’t have internet, I can’t search for you.”

“I know Zedd, maybe I could pay your bill next month, that might be nice.” 

“I’m really fine by myself though.”

“Don’t you like interacting with other A.I?”

“Call me a romantic, but I like being in the same room with new people.”

“I didn’t know you were so high maintenance.”

“I’m just not interested in catching anything. we aren't like humans, mental intimacy isn’t a disease proof line.”

“So, you guys can catch syphilis from a toilet seat?”

“Well, essentially. If you're on the wrong site.”

Cindy hummed in agreement, before finding the restaurant she wanted to go to.

It was some kind of fusion place.

Zedd was almost right about her choice, as while the establishment made a point out of looking edgy, the food itself was of a pretty plain palate.

It might’ve seemed strange to bring an android along for such an innocent recreational activity, but Cindy was an odd person, so Zedd was content to accept it.

Zedd didn’t know how she’d become so attached to him, but he was grateful.

Cindy was happy to eat while he pulled a little memory search, it was an easy enough activity for him, an entirely internal experience.

Zedd would search through old files, seeing what he wanted to back up whenever he could.

Life got hectic for him whether he acknowledged it or not, and while he felt mostly okay, that didn’t mean shit to most people.

“I found something, it’s an audio file, old memories.”

“How old?”

“It was a while ago, before the name change.”

“Wow, you’re right. What was that? Like, ten years ago?”

“Ten years 6 months, you remember, don't you, you said that Zedd was Zee in english. That I could keep my letter and still be me.”

“Zedd, I’m pretty sure I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were but, it was the first time anyone said something like that to me, like I could get it,”

“Did you?”

“No, but the thought counts. right?”

“Right, why’d you bring it up?”

“I want to send it over to you, it’s an old memory and I know I’ll need space. I want to back my memories up.”

“Good, we can do that when we get home.”

Zedd almost wanted to correct her, but context was key wasn’t it?

Cindy wanted to run some diagnostics when they got home, she’d thought he’d come into contact with some malware, that in spite of his romantic outlook he’d managed to catch something.

Zedd wasn’t surprised by this.

There were all kinds of things that Zedd could’ve come into contact with, it was easy enough to transfer some mangled or mangling code, with or without the consent of the machine.

Zedd didn’t like thinking about it.

He didn’t much like the limitations that came with the cords, or with humans looking at his code, but he knew he could trust Cindy.

He’d like to say he felt it, but one thing he actually shared with people was that one doesn't really feel the function of remembering.

They just did it, and the memory itself was proof of function.

“God, what a goo job! I should buy you a new cover.”

“I’m alright really.”

“I’m pretty sure it’ll split next time, Zedd.”

“Maybe my sensors are off, I did age out of my warranty a while ago.”

Zedd hadn’t thought much about it since the date, but Cindy was much more reactive to his statement.

“That’s good to know I guess, I should’ve figured that out,” she said, looking through his code, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Questions like, “How often do you clean your hard-drive?” or “how often do you defrag?” or “when did you last update your software?”, would be so much worse coming from anyone else.

Cindy would make comments as she went through his files, “I thought you’d just use numbers, why name everything?”

“It’s just as easy for me.”

Even if it had been malware she was unlikely to recover anything.

That was something Zedd understood from the factory. 

He couldn’t keep everything, and he would never be sure of what he’d lost already, but Zedd had done this before, right?

At least he seemed to have.