Jeffrey turned back to the brat. “What’s the problem? He’s doing the Bump Twist, a dance popular about twenty years ago. I think he’s doing it rather well. I’ll have to be sure and compliment the programmer in the morning.”

“You don’t understand,” said the brat, the whine rising in volume. “That’s supposed to be my father and it’s dancing with two of my best friends.”

Jeffrey was at a loss. He couldn’t see the connection between the participants and why it was giving the brat a fit.

“They’re my age for God’s sake,” she said, twisting her volume up another notch. “It’s undignified for my father to be dancing like that. He should be doing waltzes and stuff, old folks’ dancing, not something that looks like he’s planning to have sex.”

Jeffrey wasn’t able to stifle his chuckle. He hid it by turning to the side under the pretense of pulling his pad from his pocket. He had control over himself when he turned back and turned the pad on. It took only a second to bring up the relevant file.

“I’m sorry, but according to fourteen of the people we interviewed, your father loved to dance to music like this. In fact, this song was one of his favorites,” said Jeffrey. He turned the pad so the brat could see he wasn’t making it up.

Instead of checking his pad, the brat waved her hand to dismiss it. “What do those people know?” she said.

“One of them was your mother,” Jeffrey said calmly.

The brat rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head slightly from side to side. “She’s always saying things about my father that aren’t true. I may have been only eight when he died, but I know what my father was like. He wasn’t like that.”

Jeffrey’s eyes were drawn back to the dance floor by the brat’s pointing finger. The song had ended and the young ladies had left the floor. The android turned from talking to the synth player and made shooting motions with its hands, clearing an area of the dance floor. The band began to play a rhythm with a heavy backbeat and a little melody thrown in; the android began to shift its weight from foot to foot before taking a step back and forth to either side.

“Now what is it doing?” the brat asked.

As the song progressed the android increased the complexity of its footsteps, always in perfect time with the music. Jeffrey picked out the symmetrical nature of the steps to either side, marveling that his staff had been able to code such a sequence. When the steps reached the point where both sides had had the same steps, and the next moment should produce a more intricate change to the dance, the android lowered itself to the floor and began a new footwork sequence with its arms added to the movement. It shifted back and forth, the legs and arms a blur of spinning, twisting motion.

“Oh no,” said the brat. She started to move toward the dance floor.

The android’s body rocked back and forth, swaying in an ever growing arc with the momentum of the dance to the rhythm of the music. A flick of the legs and the android was on its head, its body spinning like a top, legs gyrating in the air above it. As the song ended, the android’s body collapsed, and the spining stopping, leaving the android lying on its side, legs crossed, head propped up in its hand. Applause broke out from around the room.

“Stop it,” said the brat.

Jeffrey moved to the dance floor. He could see the brat pulling at the arm of the android, trying to pull it up from the floor. The android looked up and smiled at the brat.

“Hi, pumpkin,” said the android.

“No, get up,” said the brat, still tugging.

The android let itself be pulled to its feet and off the dance floor. Jeffrey reached them when the brat had the android sitting at the table.

The brat looked across the table at Jeffrey. Her entire body looked tense, her muscles bunched and tendons straining against her skin. A new pose he’d never seen. Jeffrey wondered if he should feel afraid.

“You did this on purpose,” she shouted.

“We programmed him according to what your father was like,” said Jeffrey.

“Why did you do this?”

“What, Miss?” asked Jeffrey. He wasn’t sure what deficiency she was imagining this time. The android’s dancing had been impeccable.

“Why are you trying to destroy my marriage?” said the brat at full volume.

Jeffrey stepped back from the verbal assault. The noise from the party had disappeared and when he glanced to his side he saw everyone was staring at them. The brat followed his look and also saw the others. Her eyes opened wide and her hand flew to her mouth. Pushing past Jeffrey, she ran from the room.

The room remained quiet until the door closed behind her. It was as if it was the switch to turn everyone back on. The groom jumped up from where he had been sitting next to his father and ran after her. Jeffrey gathered up the android’s coat and tie and led him from the room, ignoring the whispers behind him.

Jeffrey leaned through the doorway into the small room at the back of the chapel, his hand on the door-knob ready to pull it closed. The android stood to the side, silent and waiting for the brat to signal she was ready. The brat sat in front of a mirror, the wedding dress reflecting the light was making it look brilliant white. Her head in her hands; Jeffrey could hear her sobs.

Jeffrey knew he’d probably get blistered by her response, but it was why he got the big bucks. “Miss, the minister asked me to tell you that he has to move along. He has another wedding scheduled after this one.”

The brat’s sobs became a wail. Jeffrey stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. A quick glance told him the android looked fine, very dapper for the ceremony.

“What is it, Miss? If it’s uncertainty, let me assure you that all bri-”

“How can I get married now?” the brat said before another sob shook her.

“As I was saying, Miss, all brides, and grooms for that matter, are nervous on their wedding day. Just think about how much you love each other,” said Jeffrey. He may have had his differences with her, but that was what he was paid for. Now that the end was coming he could afford her a little sympathy.

“That’s not it,” the brat said. “I’m not nervous about getting married. But after last night, how can I let that walk me down the aisle?”

“But I’ve shown you the documentation. Your father did indeed love to dance, and was known to street dance in his youth. If it helps, the android actually reproduced the steps your father used to do.”

“My father was tall and strong and used to dance with me, holding me close as he moved around the room. A waltz, not a jiggly shaking roll in the dirt,” said the brat. Her tears slowed as she spoke. “And then what I said.”

Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes went wide, a repeat of the face she had made the night before. “The party was being recorded. Several people out there have seen what happened. I heard a couple of people talking about it outside my door when they were going to the chapel. Do you have any idea how embarrassed I am?”

Jeffrey let her talk, wind down, let the problem flow out with her words. He found himself nodding in what was supposed to be a supportive way when he realized he had no idea how embarrassed she was, or why. The brat was looking at him, her eyes moving toward anger number five.

“I’m going to sue you,” she said.

It was the first time she hadn’t whined when she spoke to him. Her voice was cold, without heart, and carried the feeling of deadly seriousness.

“Excuse me,” Jeffrey said.

He opened the door and leaned out to bring in an older gentleman. The older man had short, wavy white hair and a bristly white mustache. His tux was clean and neat, but a little large for his body. He had a twinkle in his eye when he smiled down at the brat.

“Grandpa!” she shouted when she saw him. She jumped up from her chair and rushed into his arms, crushing the folds of her wedding dress in the tight hug.