There was nothing Eva liked better than eating at the dining table\u2014the clinking of forks, the silver knife playing between her fingers, dishes of all colors displayed from one side to the other\u2026 It was all very human, or so she liked to believe. <\/p>\n
In front of her, a middle-aged woman looked at the phone resting on the placemat, reading an article instead of looking at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cMam\u00e1<\/em>,\u201d Eva said. Lettuce, arugula and cherry tomatoes rested comfortably on her plate, all of them untouched.<\/p>\n Josefa Mayoral raised her brown eyes slowly, first checking the food in front of Eva, then her face.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, darling?\u201d<\/p>\n The sliced cucumbers caught her attention. Eva wondered if onions tasted as acidic as they smelled, or if the bright yellow color of eggs influenced their flavor. While she loved dinner, there were very few elements she was able to digest, and none of them could be considered food by any standard. <\/p>\n She took a deep breath, and thought again of the one sentence she was thinking the whole day:<\/p>\n \u201cI don’t want to go tomorrow, please.\u201d <\/p>\n Eva was the first and only of her kind, the prototype of all Mayoral androids. Like later models, her body was designed to have the following characteristics: a registration number carved into the sole of her left foot, the characteristic logo of Mayoral Robots in her right arm, and, more importantly, an appealing appearance.<\/p>\n \u201cYou could say she’s like a daughter to me,\u201d Josefa said, lifting her up by the waist to show her to the crowd. Eva stood there, expressionless, looking at rows of curious faces. \u201cAnd a case of unexpected success\u2014you see, I hadn’t imagined she would be more than just a testing program, but she works so well, in such an astoundingly human fashion, that I modeled all of our other robots after her.\u201d<\/p>\n Josefa gestured for Eva to continue, her stretched wide mouth looking less than a smile and more like a threat. Eva pulled one string of her red dress, uncovering a shoulder, and then the other, showing the soft artificial skin of her neck and cleavage. <\/p>\n \u201cWhen I began this company, I was asked many things. There is a general misconception of what a woman can and cannot do in this industry, and I wanted to shake that belief, and show that I could bring a completely new approach to this very male-dominated space\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n A man in particular didn’t stop staring at her, not at her chest, but at her face. Someone in the crowd, someone whose face Eva could not focus on, someone holding a cellphone.<\/p>\n \u201cNow, I am more than proud to say that Eva is not only the most developed sex robot in the world, but the first artificial intelligence with human-like perception,\u201d Josefa grinned, trying to catch her breath after speaking. The dress slipped down Eva’s chest, exposing her down to her navel.<\/p>\n \u201cMs. Mayoral, a question.\u201d It was the same man as before. Eva only saw his trench coat, his glasses, his short beard. \u201cYour company claims to be the only one in the market who understands issues such as consent, but if Eva and the other girls\u2014and boys\u2014you sell are fully conscious individuals, wouldn’t\u2014?\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cThank you for your pertinent question, Mr. Asai,\u201d Josefa said. \u201cAll of our androids are conscious, yes, and they have individual personalities, to understand, appreciate and respect their owner’s wishes, as well as their sexual and emotional needs. They were also built to enjoy all types of intercourse, and even have functions that help spread awareness regarding sexual and domestic violence.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan you please explain how this function works?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEva, can you?\u201d Josefa asked her, and she blinked, turning to Mr. Asai.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course, mam\u00e1<\/em>.\u201d Eva made a small pause, trying to focus. \u201cAs she said, it’s not only me, but all Mayoral models have a non-consensual function, in order to prevent aggressive clients to believe a real person would enjoy this kind of interaction.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis helps owners to understand living people’s boundaries,\u201d Josefa added. \u201cIt was proved to be very effective.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf this helps prevent crimes against women, I’m more than happy,\u201d Eva said, and smiled a bit. The journalist seemed at a loss, but stared at her intently, as if thinking of something to say.<\/p>\n \u201cYou would tell me if you weren’t, wouldn’t you?\u201d Josefa asked, her voice so playful that Eva almost smiled for real. <\/p>\n \u201cOf course I would, mam\u00e1<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, then, it’s time for the actual fun\u2014please, gentlemen, form a line and follow me to the next room. Those who have paid for the full workshop will get to try Eva for twenty minutes. The rest, if you change your mind, we accept cash, online payment and credit cards.\u201d Lights flickered in the ceiling, and the ambient music mixed with the breathing of somebody else created a repetitive rhythm. The man over her looked like a lot of other man she had met before. Like Andrew, and Ram\u00f3n, and Ezequiel, and Juan, and William, and Horace, and Takao, and Henri, and M\u00e1rcia, even, and the long, long list of clients who had tested her since her creation. <\/p>\n \u201cEva, sit on me,\u201d he ordered, grabbing her by the throat. Eva choked, coughing, nodding as he moved her like a ball-jointed doll. Eva sat on his lap, wondering if there was anything similar between what she felt and what physical exhaustion should be like.<\/p>\n Inability to perform optimally, lack of energy in the muscle, a general sensation of weakness\u2026 No matter how much her limbs seemed unwilling to function, this feeling was merely internal: outside, everything worked as well as always, her hips went up and down, her chest trembled, and her mouth voiced the same moans she was supposed to repeat.<\/p>\n Again, she could not focus on the person leaving her body, nor his face, nor his hands, nor his words. He was talking to her, and she was answering, but she could not retain the information in her system. <\/p>\n \u201cAre they gonna help you with that?\u201d He pointed at the dripping between her legs, and she almost jumped, suddenly realizing that this was not some strange reverie: you should always answer clients<\/em>, an order inside her said, your attention should be entirely on them<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cI’m self-cleaning, actually,\u201d Eva murmured, feeling like she should speak more kindly, maybe. \u201cBut thanks for asking.\u201d<\/p>\n Mothers and daughters often look alike, but this was not their case. Josefa was slim and tall, with large brown eyes, an aquiline nose, a long, angular face. Her mouth was ample but not full, her neck was lengthy, fitting her protuberant bone structure, and her skin was the common tanned beige of natives of the Iberian Peninsula.<\/p>\n Eva wanted to be more like her, or the girls that were created after her, but she was something else, something different.<\/p>\n \u201cEva was not created to look from anywhere in particular,\u201d Josefa told an interviewer once. \u201cUnlike our other robots, which were created to fit specific ethnicities in order to fully represent the human experience, she’s a\u2014how can I put this? A citizen of the world. I tried to choose many traits to make her universally relatable, de facto<\/em> multiracial, but I’m afraid it made her not look like anything, really.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe’s very exotic, very racially ambiguous,\u201d the interviewer agreed. \u201cSomewhat of a strange beauty.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIsn’t she?\u201d Josefa buried her fingers in her cheeks, showing her face. Eva didn’t like any of the words used to describe her. Exotic and odd-faced did not sound as flattering as pretty or hot, like the models for sale were usually marketed as. \u201cI’ve been told her body’s unrealistic, but I find that offensive, honestly.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva looked at her own nakedness. Indeed, it was nothing like Josefa; it had too much in many places, but not all of them. Mayoral Robots prided itself in offering all kinds of body, and she had seen some that were flat and small like a child, and others that were tall and heavy in the sides. Some had a big chest accompanying a small torso, others were proportionate in everything. <\/p>\n But not her\u2014she was not as light as some androids, nor olive, nor brown, nor black. Her traits didn’t match each other, the skin didn’t fit the face, the face didn’t fit the body, the body didn’t fit anywhere. Her back was always arched, her breasts were always big and firm, her waist was always small, her hips were always wide, her face was always short, her mouth was always pouting.<\/p>\n Sometimes, Eva imagined what it would have been like to change\u2014by accident, of course, mother would never forgive her\u2014with a body more of her liking. With someone big when she felt too small, or someone small when she felt too big. With someone whose face attracted only positive attention, or with looks that blend easily in with the crowd.<\/p>\n Josefa never had a biological child, but maybe, just maybe, everything would have been different if she was a lot like her: the same need for a pair of glasses, the same elongated body, the same stone-carved face\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cMam\u00e1<\/em>,\u201d Eva murmured, holding her by the arm before she left the room. \u201cCan I ask you something before the other client comes in?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf it doesn’t take too long, sure,\u201d Josefa answered. <\/p>\n \u201cDo you ever plan selling me to someone in particular?\u201d Her voice sounded more hurried than she had planned, and she closed her eyes when Josefa brushed her hair with her fingers. <\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLike other robots.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you talking about, Eva?\u201d<\/p>\n She was talking about an idea that crossed her head all the time. The others were sold to a person, or a group, or a business, and they were kept there forever, or as long as they were useful\u2026 Right? If she were sold, she might stop feeling the delusion of fatigue that constantly accosted her. <\/p>\n \u201cI just wanted to know,\u201d Eva tried to explain, letting herself fall down from the bed to the floor to get on her knees. \u201cOut of curiosity.\u201d<\/p>\n What Eva had noticed, in fact, is that the malfunctioning that caused exhaustion-like symptoms in her worsened any and every time she had to see other people. As of late, it was so bad that she felt like she could not even answer her mother, or even get up from the chair. Despite not having a digestive system, she felt like throwing up, or, at least, like what she imagined wanting to throw up would feel like.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course not,\u201d Josefa said, furrowing her brows. \u201cYou have a very important role with me, cari\u00f1o. Besides, who would buy you after years of this? Now, behave, and do your job, okay? Mother is late.\u201d<\/p>\n No, I don’t want to, was what her mouth opened to say, but simple commands were becoming difficult tasks for her. <\/p>\n The window by her side showed an interesting scenario of lights, gleaming like stars, like candles, like fireflies: so many words in her database to describe the beautiful imagery ahead, and yet none seemed to please her. Caught up in her own little world of buildings and electricity, Eva didn’t notice the arrival of her client, or when he spoke, or when he began to touch her.<\/p>\n Negative, negative<\/em>\u2014her system said, like an alarm. Negative<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d Eva yelled, placing her open hands on his chest to try to create distance between them. Unlike the ghost of tiredness, she knew well what this feeling was, as she was programmed to thrash and beg and scream when she did not want something.<\/p>\n There was not only one man, there were many\u2014mam\u00e1<\/em> didn’t say anything about a group\u2014and her body went to autopilot: the more she hated it, the more they did, the more she tried to stop it, the worse it became. She had been programmed to behave like this, after all; so this would not happen to other women, no, to real women, only to her.<\/p>\n When her body slowly started to go back to normal, and they were dressing up, Eva began to wonder what was wrong. Her negative autopilot had been activated more times than she could count, but only once or twice the clients seemed uncomfortable about all the yelling. In fact, most of the time, they seemed pleased, like they wanted to see exactly how bad things could get.<\/p>\n \u201cMam\u00e1<\/em>,\u201d Eva talked in a small voice, hours later, when Josefa was fixing the skin that had been torn and damaged from her limbs. \u201cDid you listen when I was trying to call you? I was scared.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Josefa said, but she could see she was lying. \u201cI had my phones on.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMam\u00e1<\/em>,\u201d Eva said again. \u201cDo you really think the negative mode helps?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I don’t know, darling, don’t fret over it.\u201d Smoke flew out of Josefa’s mouth, and she put out the cigarette. \u201cSome people just like it better this way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMs. Mayoral,\u201d a man said. Eva listened from behind the door, trying to remember where she heard the journalist’s name. Mother called him Mr. Asai\u2026 Asai, Asai, who was he? \u201cI can’t stress how thankful I am for your willingness to help. Of course, my feature would not be complete if I didn’t check by myself how Eva works in first hand.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cOf course it wouldn’t,\u201d Josefa answered, and Eva could discern the disdain in her voice. <\/p>\n She remembered, now: a face in the audience, a man with a shiny black beard covering his chin, a beige trench coat. Mr. Jean-Luc Asai, the interviewer mam\u00e1<\/em> called nosy and unbearable, the one always running after her.<\/p>\n \u201cHow do we proceed now? Is there any room in particular for this kind of\u2026 Event? I would appreciate privacy, I think you can imagine why.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva touched the door, feeling the layer of paint over the wood. Unlike her deregulated emotional system, her sensory processing was as hypersensitive as ever, just as it was supposed to be. <\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mr. Asai, please,\u201d Josefa laughed, and the sound of steps followed her voice. \u201cMayoral Robots is more than used to situations like this. It’s not the first time a journalist like yourself asks to see in first hand what my products can do. I will call Eva, and she will show you the guest room. Eva! Eva!\u201d<\/p>\n Eva waited a few moments to appear in the living room. She tried to force a smile, but she stopped when she realized she could go back to the negative autopilot at any instant.<\/p>\n \u201cEva, please escort Mr. Asai to the guest room, and make sure to attend to his every need.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cPlease follow me,\u201d Eva murmured, taking Mr. Asai by the hand. The man was taller and wider than her, and a strange thought crossed her head: if I was human, he could choke me to death<\/em>.<\/p>\n When they reached the guest room, Mr. Asai locked the door, undressed from his jacket, and sat on the bed. <\/p>\n \u201cNow, Eva, I believe I haven’t introduced myself to you yet. My name is Jean-Luc,\u201d Mr. Asai kissed the back of her hand, and smiled at her. \u201cCan we talk for a little while?\u201d<\/p>\n Eva frowned, which made Mr. Asai chuckle in amusement. She was used to this kind of request coming from those who were used to older generations of androids, none of them as realistic as her, or so mam\u00e1<\/em> said.<\/p>\n \u201cSomething’s happening, Jean-Luc? In your marriage, maybe?\u201d Eva asked, sitting close to him, making their thighs touch. She didn’t know who she hated more: those who only wanted to screw, or those who only wanted to talk.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, no, flower,\u201d Mr. Asai answered, still smiling. There were lines of age under his pitch black beard, and a few gray strands. \u201cThis is not the kind of conversation I want to have. I want to know more about you.\u201d<\/p>\n That Akai, Asai\u2014whatever is his name!\u2014man wants to catch me red-handed, I just know<\/em>, Josefa had said many times before. Eva never thought it was something serious, so she always looked somewhere else: the tips of her fingers, her shoes, her ever untouched plate.<\/p>\n \u201cWhatever you’d like, Jean-Luc,\u201d Eva purred, but she never got to climb to his lap. Mr. Asai stopped her, touching her shoulder. <\/p>\n \u201cYou see, Eva, I paid a great deal of money to interview you, but I’m afraid your ‘mother’ does not need to know that.\u201d <\/p>\n Eva hugged her knees, making herself smaller. There was something wrong.<\/p>\n \u201cSo you do want to catch her red-handed,\u201d Eva muttered. \u201cMam\u00e1<\/em> is doing nothing illegal, you know.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cI know, but that’s the part where I disagree, flower,\u201d Mr. Asai continued, and he went back to her side. \u201cI’m not sure you were programmed to understand this, but not everything that’s legal is correct.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy are you calling me flower?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I think you’re just like one.\u201d Mr. Asai waved his fingers in the air, tracing her face without touching her. Part of Eva wanted him to do it, to pet her face and fuck her, that was way better than talking about any of those things. \u201cLike a little ghost orchid\u2014rare, beautiful and outstandingly frail.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva tried to imagine her limbs becoming the pale white and green petals of a ghost orchid, forgetting how to speak and switch languages, removing her wires, breathing humidity, and not having to ever be herself again.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy frail? My body was designed to endure abnormal quantities of pain.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd experience.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEndure<\/em> and experience abnormal quantities of pain,\u201d Mr. Asai corrected her. \u201cMs. Mayoral told me all of her androids were created to be hypersensitive to any physical touch. To increase arousal, she says.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat’s true.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cDoes your hypersensitivity decreases when you’re in pain, flower?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Eva said. \u201cNot at all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cInteresting choice. Did she ever told you why?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Eva said. \u201cIt’s because a lot of people like it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you<\/em> like it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can’t like everything.\u201d To Eva, the answer was very obvious, even when she had already questioned the same. \u201cThere are people who don’t want me to like it\u2026 I would bore them to death if it was good, wouldn’t I?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose you would. Listen, flower.\u201d Mr. Asai held Eva’s hand, and she looked right into his narrow dark eyes. \u201cI would like you to talk to me whenever you need it. Pain can be rather tiring\u2014if you ever agree, message me.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva watched as Mr. Asai saved his contact under the name Orchid, and smiled at her. After a long silence, Eva grabbed him by the wrist.<\/p>\n \u201cI do,\u201d she said. \u201cI already agree.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJean-Luc,\u201d Eva pronounced his name. \u201cJean-Luc Asai.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about him?\u201d Josefa asked out of nowhere. Eva had not even realized she had said it out loud in first place. \u201cDid he ask you anything weird?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. He just wanted to know if it was true that I can feel everything more than humans can. I said yes. He enjoyed it.\u201d<\/p>\n Jean-Luc<\/em>, she wrote to him later. I want to tell you something, something mother can’t know<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think he might have thought there was some flaw in your work,\u201d Eva continued, playing with a clean spoon. \u201cHe seems to have changed his mind.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMen are all the same,\u201d Josefa sighed. \u201cPussy makes them irrational.\u201d<\/p>\n I think I’m malfunctioning, Eva said. Would you mind coming again? We will be in Madrid until the weekend<\/em>.<\/p>\n \u201cMother.\u201d There was gazpacho served in a cassole in front of her, looking bright red. \u201cWould you ever turn me off?\u201d<\/p>\n Josefa stopped eating. Small bits of cucumber and bell pepper fell out of her spoon, and her mouth hung open.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy would I?\u201d She got up and hurried to the other side of the table, decorated with a cheerful table cloth. \u201cYou’re my golden goose, dear, my daughter, I’d never get rid of you.\u201d <\/p>\n Josefa kissed the top of her head, caressing her hair like she was her own private porcelain doll.<\/p>\n \u201cBut if I begged you\u2014would you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop talking nonsense, Eva.\u201d Josefa let go of her, and went back to her place, her veiny hands shaking. \u201cDid that man put this silliness in your head?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, mam\u00e1<\/em>, he didn’t.\u201d<\/p>\n When Josefa entered the restroom of the hotel, Eva hurried to the man waiting behind a large replica palm tree. <\/p>\n \u201cJean-Luc,\u201d she said, holding the sleeve of his cream-colored trench coat. \u201cI think I’m in danger. Mother is thinking of repairing me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIsn’t that better for you?\u201d Mr. Asai had to look down to make eye contact, but he was focused on the door of the women’s restroom. \u201cYou told me you were worried you were malfunctioning.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva took a small memory card out of her pocket, and put it in the palm of his hand.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is all I can tell you,\u201d Eva said. \u201cAbout what I really think\u2026 I don’t believe you’ll be very interested, there are no illegal things.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFlower, you’re getting quite good at running away from my questions.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva smiled.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happens if you’re repaired?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy memories will be reset.\u201d One of Eva’s hands was still grasping his coat, and she wished she could memorize the feeling of the fabric, the brown round buttons and the white shirt beneath. \u201cI know I’m just an object and my wishes are very silly, but I wouldn’t like that. Even if I won’t think the way I do now, I wouldn’t want these hands and this body to act like I am happier than I am\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI won’t allow it,\u201d Jean-Luc said. \u201cI’d help you, flower. We can try to sue Josefa, we\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere is no current legislation for someone like me. But there’s something you could do. Something I really, really want.\u201d<\/p>\n Once, Eva witnessed the deactivation of a defective Mayoral android. The experience reminded her of a public execution, where not only her and Josefa, but several employees were able to attend. She wished they could receive a lethal injection instead of having their skulls opened, unfolding layers of software and delicate wires, only to become scrap metal in the end.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure about this, flower?\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cVery,\u201d Eva answered, walking, being followed closely by him. She had spent the last week doing everything she could: answering through mother’s phone, faking her signature, imitating her voice. She had been lucky that Josefa had already schedule her neural repairment for Friday, so it wasn’t that hard to pretend that she had changed her mind, and wanted to dispose of her instead. \u201cI guess the other employees think it makes sense. I’m just an old prototype by now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you allow my opinion\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLeave your opinion for your feature, Jean-Luc.\u201d Eva smiled sweetly, caressing his arm. \u201cDo you really think anyone will be interested in reading about me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think after they read it, they will never forget about you,\u201d Mr. Asai murmured. \u201cIf you tried to take your case to court, flower, you could change the way we perceive robots. It could give you rights akin to those of a human. Rights that would prevent\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Eva stopped walking. <\/p>\n \u201cJean-Luc,\u201d Eva said, very aware of how close they were to the deactivation room. \u201cI don’t want to try anything anymore. I just want to sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEva\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI like it better when you call me flower.\u201d Eva covered a small chuckle with her tiny hand. \u201cWill you watch it, Jean-Luc? I’d rather not be alone, please.\u201d<\/p>\n Jean-Luc knelt in front of her, and kissed the back of her hand, just like he had done in the day they truly met.<\/p>\n \u201cI will,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd I won’t let anyone forget what caused you feel like this.\u201d<\/p>\n Eva opened her eyes. Lights blinded her, the ceiling was white and brilliant, the walls of the second floor reflecting the scene below.<\/p>\n There were two people above her, but not in the way she was used to. They were not weighing on her body, they were blankly staring at her, pulling the skin of her forehead with care. For the first time in a long time, she did not feel like she was malfunctioning at all, she felt comfortable, pleased, safe. She could still visualize Mr. Asai from a distance, through the glass separating the witnesses from them.<\/p>\n The deactivation room was soundproof, and she could only listen to the little noises they made in her brain. Finally<\/em>, Eva thought, smiling. <\/p>\n Josefa Mayoral appeared behind the other side of the room, yelling, but no one could hear her. She punched the wall with her fists until Mr. Asai had to stop her. <\/p>\n Thank you<\/em>, she wanted to say, but her voice wasn’t working anymore. One arm resting over her belly, the other on the table, Eva closed her eyes.<\/p>\n H. Pueyo is an Argentine-Brazilian writer and translator. Her work can be read in venues such as Strange Horizons, Clarkesworld and The Dark Magazine, among others.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There was nothing Eva liked better than eating at the dining table\u2014the clinking of forks, the silver knife playing between her fingers, dishes of all colors displayed from one side to the other\u2026 It was all very human, or so she liked to believe. In front of her, a middle-aged woman looked at the phone …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":105580,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,12,19717],"tags":[19718],"class_list":["post-131784","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-science-fiction","category-tcl-27-spring-2018","tag-the-colored-lens-27-spring-2018","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/131784","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/105580"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=131784"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/131784\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":137964,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/131784\/revisions\/137964"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=131784"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=131784"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=131784"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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