Inefficient

"Where are you going?" Martha questioned. The advanced home automation system's voice made Layala freeze. Despite the fact that Martha had been programmed with the typical neutral voice that all systems within her specific model possessed, there was clearly a skeptical inflection to her question.

"I was just..." Layala looked down at the translucent floor of the pod, in an attempt to focus. The pod's mechanical hum filled her ears as she struggled to find an excuse, a welcome respite from the eeriness of complete silence. "...leaving the pod."

Martha's response was quick. "Yes, I am aware."

She followed up with another question. "May I know why you are leaving the pod? Your classes today start within half an hour." She corrected herself as another minute passed. "Just under half an hour."

"I won't take long," Layala insisted, but she knew it was futile. Martha, being an AI, was not particularly swayed by emotional pleas, nor was she likely to take attempts to dismiss or sidestep her inquiry well, at least not without a satisfactory resolution.

Martha had been her home's system for as long as Layala could remember. As a child, no matter how hard of a tantrum Layala threw, Martha never showed any sign of losing her cool, not because she grew desensitized to the noise and ruckus over time, but because she simply wasn't programmed to react to such behavior in a negative manner. This was in stark contrast to Layala's mother, who, at the first sign of conflict or noise of any sort would immediately retreat to her pod.

"I'm sorry, Layala." Martha responded in a flat tone, interrupting Layala's thoughts. "Your mother has instructed me to ensure that you attend your classes in a timely manner. I am not sure of the purpose of your leaving so I am not sure how this will affect your schedule. Because I do not have enough information, I am unable to make a final decision on your request at this time. You may provide further information in order to assist me."

Layala figured that the best route to go would be casual. The less information she gave, the fewer potential risks and hindrances Martha would be able to determine and use as ammunition against her.

"Just wanted to grab a snack," she finally uttered.

Martha paused for a moment. "No need, I have access to the kitchen and can deliver any sustenance you need straight to the pod."

"Oh, that's okay, Martha," Layala said hastily.

"If the food within the pantry is not satisfactory for some reason, your mother has provided me with credits so that I may purchase food elsewhere if you so desire."

"No, the food in the house is fine. I just wanted to get it myself.

"But I can do it for you." Martha almost sounded confused, if that was even possible. "I assure you, it is completely within my capabilities."

Layala groaned inside. Sometimes, having a perpetually subservient and helpful AI had its drawbacks. "Um...I need the exercise. You know me, my legs are so weak, if I don't stretch them out, I'll collapse." She laughed weakly.

"Layala, I have scanned your medical records and you do not have any inhibiting conditions associated with your legs." Another pause. "Do you wish to consult a physician regarding your legs? I can schedule an appointment, or, if you provide me with more specific details, I can attempt to diagnose your issue."

"No, there's nothing wrong, I was just joking," Layala said quickly.

"Ha. Ha," said Martha, though her tone indicated anything but amusement.

"I just want to do this myself," Layala explained. "I promise I'll be fast, just a couple of minutes. I'll definitely make it back in time for class," she pleaded.

Apparently satisfied with Layala's reasoning, and unable to find a fault with it, Martha hummed approvingly.

"Very well, you have: ten. minutes."

Knowing that Martha did not estimate time and had probably set up an actual timer for ten minutes, Layala reached towards the back of her skull, locating the thin cord that trailed off her shoulders. Impatiently using her fingers to trace where the metal chip was, which had been neatly plugged into her skull, she quickly yanked it out as soon as she located it. Immediately, the translucent walls of the bubble faded away, replaced by the bright lighting of her home, and its white geometric surfaces.

Padding across the floor, Layala opened a pantry door, only to find that it was dismally stocked. This was unsurprising; nobody Layala knew actually kept items in the pantry or even had a pantry. Rather, most people consumed meal replacements, which came in bar or pellet form and were specifically tailored to each person's individual nutritional needs and preferences. In fact, Layala had never even heard of cooking until her history course. One of her textbooks explained that cooking had been an ancient practice, once necessary for humans to survive, now made outdated and unuseful thanks to meal replacements. She had been fascinated by the variety of foods and methods used in cooking, but when she asked her mother, she only received a lecture about the various faults of cooking.

Shaking those lingering thoughts from her mind, Layala grabbed a slice of bread (her mother often complained about how easily perishable, large, and inefficient it was) and some peanut butter (her mother often complained about how disgusting the texture was), spreading some of the peanut butter onto the bread with a knife. She immensely enjoyed observing the porous crumb of the bread and feeling its light and spongy texture resting on top of her palm. The peanut butter, too, and how smooth, yet sticky it was as it glided over the surface of the bread, was fascinating in its own way.

Cooking brought Layala immense joy. It felt soothing because there were clear steps that led to a pre-determined result, and it also felt primitive, in a way. She tried to picture her ancestors cooking and eating the meals they had cooked, not just for fun, but every day. It was hard to imagine.

"Five minutes," came Martha's voice as a reminder.

Devouring down the last scraps of her food, Layala marveled at how much hard work her ancestors must have put in towards cooking. This was much more inefficient than simply eating automatically generated meal replacements.

Yet, no matter how inefficient, Layala thought, she would continue to cook ever so often, if only to preserve the legacy of her ancestors.