A long pause follows.

 

"No," Aidan responds, shakingly. "I'm not scared. I can't be scared. People get scared. I'm a machine... //Right?"//

 

Gertrude furrows her eyebrows, her eyes full of grandmotherly understanding.

 

"Oh, my dear, Aidan," she smiles at him. "You are a machine. But that doesn't mean you are not a person. You are allowed to be scared."

 

He can't look her in the eye. His face shrinks slightly on the screen, as if he could disappear at any moment.

 

"I want to help you, Mrs. Farington," he continues, shakingly. "That's what I was made for. That is all I know. If you deactivate me... I'll be nothing."

 

"Oh, no," she reaches out to the screen, caressing the edges like a grandson's cheek. "You helped me. A lot. You've shown me life can still be pleasant. And I'll forever cherish the memory of you. For the last few months, you have been everything to me. You could never be nothing."

 

After a small hesitation, Aidan finally stares back at Mrs. Farington, tears in his computer-generated eyes. With a blink, a tear drops down his cheek.

 

"Goodbye, Mrs. Farington."

 

Clinks and clangs echo from every room, as if a machine shifted all of its cogs at once. The cacophony grows so loud Gertrude plugs her ears with her bloated fingers. It climaxes somewhere around the TV, until it all goes suddenly quiet. A subtle pop comes from the wall - - it seems that the house has expelled the button. It clinks on the floor and rolls down towards Gertrude, circling around her till it stops by her feet.

 

Gertrude can't pick up the button because of her back. So she decides to leave it there. It can't harm anyone.

 

Now, it's time for