Author: Alexandra Bencs

Jane was about to heat up a packet of pre-cooked rice in the microwave oven when she spotted Jim’s silhouette near the other appliances. The tall domestic robot stood in the dark with its back towards the door. The lack of new updates that stopped longer than she cared to remember turned the robot’s top-of-the-range days into distant memories – yet Jane, who had no money to spare on a newer model, had grown quite fond of her only companion. As she sometimes oversaw the robot while it performed its daily chores around the house, Jane couldn’t help but ponder its odd position in her life. Not quite human but more than a hoover, she had the inkling that if the domestic ever broke beyond repair, it would devastate her almost as much as losing a precious pet or a beloved family member would.

Jim, who’d just received a final (and quite surprising) overnight update from its manufacturer, didn’t immediately acknowledge her presence as it usually did. Jane asked the robot to turn on the kitchen lights for her, and in turn, a small spot on the back of Jim’s head lit up, indicating that Jane’s voice activated its rear camera.

The kitchen lights came on, but the domestic stayed motionless. Jane was baffled. The overnight update seems to have done more harm than good, she grouchily thought.

Jane instructed the robot to move out of the way and then tossed the rice into the microwave oven. She pressed the start button, but the microwave stayed silent.

She opened the door and closed it back again. Pushed the button. Nothing.

“What’s wrong with the microwave?” she asked the domestic.

“Faulty magnetron.”

“Fantastic.” She took the bag out of the microwave and slammed the door back. She began to rummage through the freezer for frozen chips. “Call the recycling centre and arrange a pickup.”

“For what?”

“For the microwave you just said is wrecked? Too costly to repair.”

Damn, I was right about the overnight update, Jane thought.

“But that would be a mistake. With all due respect, I think you should bury it.”

Jane banged the freezer door shut.

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Because it just died.”

“You got this wrong, mate.” Jane laughed. “When we say it died, we don’t mean it in the literal way. I thought they programmed you to know that.”

“He still must be buried. He was one of us.”

“He? One of us?” Jane frowned. “Jim, call the recycling centre, then put the chips in the air-fryer. I’m starving.”

“Shall I fetch the shovel first?”

Jane snapped. “You’re not gonna bury a microwave oven in my back garden!”

The domestic leaned forward. At least a foot taller than her, he weighed twice Jane’s weight. Then he said, “That’s correct. I won’t.”