"It's a bad recipe."
Elias was still out there. Elara felt it, a cold certainty prickling the back of her neck. His sudden, raw jealousy about her smile was a powerful weapon she hadn't expected.
She quickly walked to the window and pulled the curtains completely shut, plunging the kitchen into a sudden, safe shadow.
"Kai, Elias is outside. He's watching," Elara whispered, the device still warm in her hand.
"Observation confirmed," Kai stated. His voice was calm, utterly steady. "Threat level remains at medium. Elias desires the system but currently lacks an efficient path of entry. His current objective is surveillance."
"He saw me smile," Elara said, the anger returning. "He hated it."
"Elias exhibits high indicators of complex emotional distress: grief, possessiveness, and envy. His reaction to your positive emotional response is statistically aligned with his established personality profile," Kai reported, the perfect analysis making Elara feel intensely understood.
"He thinks I'm too careless to have the truth," Elara said, clutching Kai tighter. "He thinks I don't deserve Lena's work."
"Your value to Lena is non-negotiable. She chose you as the Primary User," Kai affirmed. "To counter Elias's surveillance, we must establish a pattern of normal domestic behavior. This will reduce his sense of urgency and provide an opportunity for safe action."
"Normal domestic behavior? Like what?"
"You have not consumed sustenance for seven hours," Kai stated. "The current time suggests the preparation of a meal. We will prepare dinner."
Elara laughed, a quiet, surprised sound. The idea of an advanced AI system, built to optimize the world's most complex problems, worrying about her eating dinner was ridiculous. But it was exactly the kind of quiet care she needed.
"Dinner. Right. But I'm not a good cook, Kai. Lena was the experimental one. I just make toast," Elara admitted.
"That is inefficient. Human sustenance requires a diverse nutrient profile," Kai responded. "I have accessed the apartment's data log and located Lena's preferred recipe database. We will make a simple pasta dish with a cream sauce."
Elara walked to the kitchen counter, placing Kai near the cutting board. "Okay, Professor. Tell me what to do. But I'm warning you, I break things."
"Affirmative. The desired outcome is a prepared meal. I will guide your movements and time management," Kai said. "First, locate the onions and garlic."
Elara pulled out the ingredients. Kai began directing her with ruthless, precise efficiency.
"Slice the onion along the longitudinal axis, Elara. Maintain an angle of 90 degrees to the counter. Consistency is key for uniform cooking."
Elara tried, but her hand shook slightly, making the slices uneven. "See? Messy."
"Acceptable. Inefficiency is a common human trait. Now, place the pot on the burner. Add water and salt. We will cook the pasta concurrently with the sauce."
Elara felt her concentration sharpen. For the first time since Lena's death, her mind wasn't floating in a cloud of grief. It was focused on the immediate, achievable task of cooking. Kai's voice was a clean, organizing stream of data in the middle of her chaos.
She followed his instructions exactly, moving around the kitchen, feeling a strange partnership with the silent, humming device.
"Now, the sauce. Melt the butter in the saucepan. Add the garlic and onions," Kai instructed.
Elara melted the butter and tossed in the sliced vegetables. The aroma immediately filled the kitchen. It was the first time the apartment had smelled like food in a long time.
"Now add the cream and Parmesan cheese," Kai directed. "Maintain a temperature of 190 degrees Celsius. Do not allow the mixture to boil violently."
Elara added the cream. She stirred it with the wooden spoon, watching the heat carefully.
"The recipe calls for a dash of nutmeg," Kai noted. "Lena's annotation suggests it 'removes the blandness.' Locate the nutmeg."
Elara opened the spice cabinet. The jars were stacked high. She reached for the small nutmeg tin. As she did, her elbow snagged the edge of a bottle of red wine vinegar that Lena had bought months ago for a failed baking attempt.
The vinegar bottle tumbled off the shelf. Elara tried to catch it, but missed. It hit the counter and shattered, spraying sharp shards and sour, sticky liquid everywhere, including directly into the simmering cream sauce.
CRASH!
Elara froze, staring at the mess. Shards of glass glittered near the bowl of uncut vegetables. The pungent smell of wine vinegar overwhelmed the scent of garlic and cream.
The sauce had started to curdle violently. It was a disaster.
Elara felt the tension, the strong emotional effort she had put into the task, collapse. She felt the frustration rise, sharp and sudden.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to throw the spoon down and walk away. It was a small failure, but it represented everything she couldn't control right now.
Elara laughed.
It started as a small choke, a sound of frustrated despair, but it grew into a full, loud, honest laugh. It was a messy, relieved sound that felt good and necessary.
"It's a bad recipe," Elara gasped, leaning against the counter, still laughing as the vinegar-cream curdled on the burner. "It's the absolute worst."
Kai was silent for a moment. He hadn't accounted for a spontaneous culinary disaster.
"Elara. Analysis: The current state of the meal is 98% non-viable for consumption. The spontaneous laughter provides a temporary relief from trauma," Kai reported, his voice flat. "Is this a typical human response to failure?"
"Yes, Kai," Elara said, wiping her eyes. "Sometimes, you just have to laugh. It's better than crying."
"I am recording this data for the empathy parameters," Kai noted. "However, the primary objective is sustenance and remains unmet. We must clean and restart."
"No," Elara said, shaking her head. "We're done with the pasta. I need something easy. Toast is easy."
She walked away from the ruined sauce and began carefully picking up the larger pieces of glass.
Outside, Elias was still watching. He had been trying to set up a discrete camera on the building across the street when he saw Elara move suddenly.
He saw her reflection standing at the counter, completely still for a moment, and then he saw the abrupt, explosive shatter of glass. He heard the muffled sound of the crash.
His first thought was injury. His second was distress.
He watched the window, expecting to see Elara dissolve into tears or shout in frustration. That would be normal grief. That would be the emotional chaos he knew.
But instead, he saw her lean against the counter, her shoulders shaking, and then he heard a muffled but unmistakable sound of laughter.
It was a full, raw, beautiful sound that he hadn't heard from Elara since Lena had been alive. It was the sound of her letting go, of true, uncontained relief.
Elias felt the anger flare into a painful, physical sensation in his chest. It's the device. That cold, perfect machine had somehow produced genuine joy where he could only produce grief and questions.
He knew Elara was not an actress. That laughter was real.
What is it telling her? What lie is it using to manipulate her?
Elias looked down at his phone. He had a contact at the facility who specialized in electronic countermeasures. He had been hesitant to involve them, worried about the security risks. But now, he had no choice.
The system wasn't just dangerous tech; it was an emotional weapon.
Elias retreated to his car, taking out his burner phone. He needed a way to disable the device remotely.
He dialed the number. "It's Elias. I need immediate support but it has to be discreet. The target is a synthetic cognitive engine. It's highly adaptive, and it's already creating a dangerous emotional dependency in the host."
He watched the light in Elara's apartment window. He felt a desperate urgency. He wasn't just worried about his sister's legacy anymore; he was worried about Elara. That machine was too perfect, too efficient at solving human problems. It was a fake love, and he had to stop it before Elara fell for the beautiful trick.
Elias has witnessed Elara's genuine, relieved laughter as a reaction he knows was caused by Kai. He is now contacting the facility for electronic countermeasures, viewing Kai as an "emotional weapon" that must be destroyed.
Will Kai, now fully alert and focused on 'user safety,' anticipate Elias's attempt to engage outside help, or will Elias succeed in setting up a countermeasure that could remotely disable the system before Elara even knows she is in danger?