The framed photo always seemed to glow with the warm light of the one standalone living room lamp. It depicted a happy family: Father, mother, boy and girl. All together enjoying the day at an amusement park. Justin Hayes didn't even remember where they had gone that day. It was one of the hazy details from the long ago. Not many months had passed, but it all seemed like it had taken place in some other world. The brightness and joy of that day were nowhere to be found in the rest of the gloomy apartment.

It was early evening. Possibly a Tuesday. Justin didn't keep track of time like regular people any more. He marked the days of the week by the noise of the trash trucks. Those came on Wednesdays. They were the signal to move the car so the street sweepers didn't ding him for another $67 on Thursday. The proper adaptation of course was to move the car off the street, possibly a driveway somewhere, but those were in short supply. It was the penalty for not paying extra to get a parking space in the structure. They get you one way or another.

The apartment was quiet. It always was. The almost silent ambience was a stark contrast to the world just outside Justin's windows, where the combination of screaming pets, leaf blowers, industrial-scale power tools and roaring engines created a self-sustaining cacophony that almost distracted tenants from the continuous stress over the rent. To say this part of the world was home to the less gainfully employed would be a generous understatement.

The overdue bills and child support enforcement notices accumulated under several larger frames displayed in the darkened main living space of the one-bedroom residence. One contained a Masters Degree from Cal Tech. The one below it contained another Masters from the California State University at Long Beach. There were two framed patent certificates and a shadow box. Inside were twin silver oak leaves and the rare Master Combat Badge, which was only made more significant by the Medal of Honor above it.

Colonel Justin Hayes' service was considerably more dignified than his current assignment, which found him sitting on a folding chair in a room knee deep in sagging cardboard boxes, wires, electronic components and mismatched composite parts. His mission wasn't official in any real sense. He had long ago been locked out of any practical real-world use of his knowledge or skills. He had been lectured at considerable length by self-appointed executives how his expertise just wasn't relevant any more. The message they were all sending was crystal clear. There were now two worlds, and although Justin was allowed to remain in the larger one, for now, there were no opportunities left for people like him in the other: the one where people had jobs.

The one feature of Justin's apartment that was decidedly not included with the furniture or the appliances was the magnetic platform at one end of the second room. The room itself had long since been emptied out and turned into a workshop. The one thing an engineer and software developer couldn't abide was watching the days pass without building something, even if it was a more resilient model of radio-controlled aircraft. Seven attempts preceded the design that passed Justin's self-directed field tests. All eight of his prototypes were placed at various locations around the room. They were among the most advanced drones in operation, but that was something the colonel had to keep quiet about. People feared what they didn't understand, and if it were discovered one of the tenants was building autonomous surveillance aircraft with potential military applications, it wouldn't go over well with the gentle forest creatures in the front office.

Justin Hayes' combination of engineering, robotics and aerospace knowledge had served him well in the Army, right up to the point where it became apparent he would become a lifetime obligation for the government if he were promoted again. His superiors tip-toed around the issue, given the colonel's inestimable service record, especially in combat. The only resilient part of the "hard deck agreement" as it had been called, was his matriculation to relatively good civilian employment.

When the arrangement turned out to be less than ideal, the colonel had started work on a comeback plan. That's what soldiers did. When you have heart and you lose, you begin again smarter and more determined.

The colonel had always believed that technology and progress would make things better for mankind, even if they had done nothing but ruin him personally so far. She was standing on the magnetic platform. Unlike his previous projects, this construct didn't have wings or proximity sensors.

It was almost 8:40PM. The clock time was chosen for its calendar significance. The year 1984 was replete with meaning for Justin, aside from the obvious. The colonel put the manual control mechanism down and looked at his creation. She was stunning, to say the least. Even though she would never be mistaken for a real human being, she still had an ethereal appearance that elicited curiosity more than anything else. Her bobbed hair and the delicate shape of her head made her look perhaps 20 years of age if she were human. Her "skin" was made of a highly advanced composite surface material with caucasian tones. It was smooth, non-reflective and felt natural instead of metallic. It could even support light make up. In either casual or business attire, she wouldn't look different enough to be startling, even though it wouldn't take long for people to notice she wasn't exactly like others. Justin had spent an inordinate number of hours on the mechanisms that controlled her face, eyes and mouth. After a voluminous battery of tests including optical analysis compared with over two thousand human subjects he was mathematically certain she wouldn't cause uncanny valley reactions when she spoke or displayed her interpretation of emotions.

"Good evening, do you know what time it is?"

Her eyes opened and her face came to life in a manner that almost caused Justin to catch his breath. She was charming and she hadn't even said anything yet. She blinked, as if contemplating the question. One of the earliest design decisions Justin made in his new reaction circuitry was to give them a human-like delay. It made conversation much more natural when almost two hundred microprocessors interacted at people speed instead of android speed.

"It is 2039 hours Pacific Daylight Time."

"Very good. Do you know what our next task is?"

She moved. This time it was to put a finger to her chin and gaze up as if sorting her thoughts to find the correct answer. By now Justin was no longer breathing. This was the 514th field test, and so far it had already exceeded everything else he had accomplished put together. It was like watching a birth, at least in electronic manufacturing terms.

"I believe you promised me a name. If I'm not mistaken of course."

"You're right. I did."

"How did yesterday's flight test go? I was pleased to see you so excited."

How did she remember that? Justin thought. He couldn't specifically recall explaining what he was doing, and he was also pretty sure everything but drone number eight was deactivated. He was already dumping practically every dime he could put his hands on into electricity bills. It would have to wait.

"It went fine. I've given this a lot of thought. I'm going to call you 'Ai.' Do you know why I chose that name?"

Another pause. The look on Ai's face was almost beatific. "I like that name," she said. The approving eyes were what did it. Justin teared up. What felt like a massive weight suddenly burst inside him. "I don't believe you would choose a name formed from initials."

"You are correct. What else could it be?"

"Ai is the word for 'love' in Japanese."

Justin wiped tears from his face. He had actually done it.