WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: D.B. Story
Far Future Fembot: Bill’s Story © December 2009 D.B. Story
eXcessica publishing
All rights reserved
Far Future Fembot:
Bill’s Story
By D.B. Story
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book is dedicated to:
Elizabeth Lee Chater, who always believed in my writing.
Sylvia Browne, who once told me I should write books like this. At least that's how I understood it.
And my Mother and Father. My Mother for her collection of Science Fiction Ace double-books that I discovered under her bed soon after I first learned to read. My Father for all the adventures we went out on together.
A special thanks to Mulligan, VW, Ian, Deryk Bramwell, and others for their excellent and much appreciated proofreading and comments.
Chapter 1—Several Hundred Years From Now
The absolute ruler of the 42 billion humans and others throughout the Solar System and Known Space seldom left New Capitol City. Her sources of intelligence were so trustworthy, her communications so refined, her need to get away from it all so non-existent, and her rule was so absolute, that she never needed to.
The Modified Monarchy form of government had replaced all earlier national forms the same way modern manufacturing had replaced hand craftsmanship. The old methods of maintaining order and stability were simply too inefficient—not to mention, corrupt—to deal with the situation as population sizes grew and issues broadened and varied across the spectrum of planetary and space dwellers. The necessity to tie overall human and robot interests together into a unified rule dictated this form, though the transformation hadn't come easily.
Once elected, the first Emperor's rule was absolute. His word alone would start—or end—wars. His decision was the final court of appeal for any case he chose to review. His appointments stood without advice or consent from any other body—excepting that of his eventual successor. His term ended on his death, or when he decided it did—and not a moment before. This removed politics as usual from all decisions
Yes, there was an ultimate check to balance this power. An Emperor could be removed by a 90% vote of the entire electorate. That simply was never going to happen. An Emperor was in charge until he or she decided to leave. Assassination was unlikely, given the quality of his bodyguards and other protective measures.
The first Emperor was a human male who had lived up to everything expected of him. His decades-long rule initiated the slow process of fixing all that was wrong with governments. Careful study had shown that the monarchy was the most corruption resistant form of rule over people who had long since figured out how to game the system to their own advantage, or manipulate others into doing it for them. The approach a ruler must take in such circumstances can sometimes appear harsh, or even be harsh—and he was harsh when he needed to be. The people almost universally loved him for what they felt was the first honest government in their lifetime. They accepted that the fairness of his rule overruled all concerns about its occasional necessary harshness.
His handpicked successor was female. "The best 'person' for the job," he said more than once without equivocation. She would be only the second citizen to hold this position so far, and would hold it until she alone decided not to hold it any longer.
Over the many years that had passed so far under her rule, she had never even hinted at making such a decision as to her own eventual successor, which ruled out speculations as to what changes such a designated successor might someday make. Most citizens appreciated that stability.
New Capital City was purpose-built to run an empire of this size. Its diameter was nearly a hundred kilometers. The outer ring, thirty kilometers wide, was virgin forest, recreated at enormous expense. It stood as a constant reminder of balance in all things.
Inside that was a kilometers-deep ring of cultivated farmlands. Not only did this provide a source of natural food for the city dwellers, but was beautiful in its own right. Many from the city enjoyed coming out just to stroll in the cultivated fields, reminding themselves that a simple life was not necessarily a bad life.
Inside the farmlands, separating them from the city itself were six immense public gardens, each with a different theme. Like the forest and farmlands, these were open to all the citizens of the empire without charge. They existed to create a serenity of thought and mind for all who visited them.
The city itself was circular as well, and tiered like a wedding cake, the inner, taller physical rings representing ever-increasing logical rings of power and influence. Over a million humans and robots worked in the streamlined bureaucracy, with most of the humans feeling the government couldn't get by a single day without them. Most of the 'bots felt the humans couldn't get by without them.
From the outer ring to the mile high spire that dominated the center, the business of government operated on an archaically measured twenty-four hour day.
* * * *
The young man passing inwards through these rings towards the central spire clearly looked out of place. His clothing, perhaps the height of fashion in business attire back in whatever farming province he'd arrived from, was sadly out of place and easily outshone by the glittering garments worn by even the low-level functionaries here. His shy, overawed manner also set him apart from those at home in this environment. He often stopped to gawk at the view as he moved ever deeper into the heart of the government.
He had come in by foot from a terminal outside the forest ring, the way many first time visitors preferred to enter the capital. Through the forest, farmland, and fountains of the water garden on this side of the capital center, he'd moved unchallenged, resting along the way as necessary.
But once he'd entered the city itself, he'd been stopped a dozen times, and then a dozen times more, by gatekeepers whose function it was to protect the inner circles from unnecessary disturbances.
"Surely, Sir," they would politely say every time, "We can handle any problem you might have right here," convinced as they were that he could not possibly have business more important than their own level in the hierarchy.
Each time, however, he spoke a few soft words to them, and afterwards they quickly passed him onwards—often with looks of utter surprise on their faces at what their data terminals instructed them to do regarding his passage.
He often smiled a secret smile at selected pieces of art, statuary, arrangements of light and shadow, or an aroma or a hint of music wafting past in the breeze. He knew the creative drives behind each of them far better than those who lived amidst them every day ever would. But he didn't share this secret knowledge with anyone else. Let them each find their own way to it when they are ready.
It took nearly a day of wending his way through the labyrinthine passages before he was finally riding up the central tower. Twice he changed lifts. Here the security was the tightest of all, and yet now he was waved through with barely a raised eyebrow. It was as if he was expected and everything was cooperating to not unnecessarily impede him.
Finally he entered the sanctum sanctorum, a room at the very top with three story-tall windows all the way around illuminating a hectare of open space. The final lift he'd ascended in sank into the floor once he stepped out, leaving no indication of its presence on the unbroken expanse.
On the far side stood the absolute ruler of humanity, her tall figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun, surrounded by the floating virtual screens of an ongoing conference. She noticed his arrival and made a hand motion for him to approach without breaking eye contact or missing a beat with the dozen powerful men and women whose images surrounded her—and to whom she was laying down the law.
"That's the deal," she announced firmly, not at all intimidated by their larger than life virtual presences. "The final deal. Take it, or leave it—at your own risk."
The man approached slowly, to eventually stand at the periphery of the conference space. He admired the figure before him, taken aback a bit at her surprisingly female form. Not quite enough to call busty, he'd call her simply well-packed. Perhaps the images he'd seen before exaggerated it a bit. However you stated it, she was a fine figure of a woman.
Her face in profile was classically mature, with bright eyes, high cheekbones, a superlatively sculpted nose, and wide, active mouth. The dark blonde hair falling in waves nearly the length of her back was a style longer than most women currently kept. No makeup could improve her complexion.
The light blouse, jacket, and slacks she wore attempted to conceal the rest of her figure, but the exposed feet in simple black heels left no doubt as to the elegant legs hidden from view. Overall her outfit was simpler than any of the stylish, overdone attire he'd passed by at even the outermost ring. She dressed simply because she could, and would have been equally at ease in no clothing at all.
"That's it!" she said sharply, her green eyes flashing while making a quick, cutting motion with her hand that terminated the conference in a single stroke. The screens disappeared with soft little pops of audible feedback.
Taking a moment to compose herself, she then turned to the uninvited young man whom she'd never seen before.
"I was wondering when you'd make it," she said to him in a much warmer voice than she'd been using only moments earlier.
"You were that sure that I was coming?"
"Absolutely."
"You've aged a bit," he commented wryly. "Or is it just the hair?"
Chapter 2—A Long Time Earlier
There was no way to fully describe just how sad the little sex-bot looked standing there in the dusty window of the second-hand store. Propped up against a box in the corner, it was clear she wasn't even running in low-power suspend mode that would have allowed her to maintain her balance while her higher functions were shut down. Her face was frozen in a forlorn expression that clearly said her final thought had been of being turned off for the last time, never to be activated again. Her hands were held out in front of her, as if interrupted in the process of coming together in the universal symbol of prayer—or maybe just pleading. Her tattered skirt showed that little money or effort had been spent in maintaining her appearance, which probably extended to the rest of her systems as well. Her eyelids had automatically closed to protect her delicate vision sensors—although why bother protecting them now was probably her last secret.
Bill walked past the store each morning on his way to catch the bus to work. It was often dark when he passed the other way returning home once more. This wasn't one of the regular used robot emporiums, where 'bots were refurbished and presented as the next best thing to new for those who couldn't yet afford new for themselves. It was more a general junk store. A place where probably at least one example of everything that has ever been sold second-hand had passed through during its existence on this spot. How the little sex toy came to be there was just one of the mysteries of life that might never be answered.
Bill couldn't afford a robot. Even a well used one on her last legs. His tiny apartment, and the fact he rode three different buses to and from work each day, bespoke too well of his own meager circumstances. Times were tough right now. He'd arrived in the city alone, with the promise of a job that evaporated at the moment of his advent. Without money to move on he took what he could find while trying to make ends meet. Although beyond even his dreams, the robot girl tugged at his heart every time he saw her. Her circumstances were certainly as poor as his own.
Over time he came to see her as a kindred spirit. Though her frozen expression never changed, he wondered how her face might light up when she was happy? What color her eyes would be when she opened them? What her voice would sound like when she had something nice to say? What her smile would be like when she was activated once more to realize that someone wanted her again?
Bill wondered about her name, until one morning he heard someone who was looking in the window comment that she looked like an old Anna model. That seemed a nice name that fit her well.
After that, when no one was nearby as he passed, Bill found himself in the habit of saying, "Good morning, Anna." Or, "How's it going today, Anna?" Or, "You look especially good today, Anna," though she always looked exactly the same.
Anna, of course, never smiled, replied, or otherwise took notice of his courtesies, but Bill realized it made him feel better, so some good did come out of it all. In the meantime he worked all the harder, believing that a vaguely hinted at promotion would come along any time now.
* * * *
One evening Anna was gone—her space empty as Bill passed by—and the store dark. Although he rushed to the window and wiped off the grime to look into the darkened store, he couldn't see her anywhere. He recklessly pounded first on the glass, and then the door, but the store was closed and nobody responded.
The next morning Bill was there the moment of its opening.
"Where is she? What have you done with her?" His urgent questions peppered Samuel, the bemused shop owner.
"Slow down, young man. Just whom are you speaking of?"
"Anna!" the young man said urgently.
"Who's Anna?" came the calming reply.
"The girl! The girl in the window! She's gone!"
"Ah," the old man replied. "The robot girl."
"Yes! What happened to her?"
"I moved her over there," he said, nodding towards the back of the store. "I needed the box she was leaning against for another customer."
"Oh," Bill replied, now seeing her standing propped up in the back corner of the shop. The energy that had propelled him since last night now drained completely out of him. His head dropped and his shoulders sank back to their usual stance. After taking another look to ensure she was—if not okay—at least unchanged, Bill silently turned to leave again.
"Just a moment," the shop owner called after him, recognizing something in Bill's behavior. "Why does she matter to you so much?"
"It's nothing really," Bill mumbled, not turning around to face him. "I just wanted her to go to a good home. Everyone deserves a good home."
Bill had stopped walking towards the shop door. That gave the owner a moment longer to contemplate the young man.
"That's not likely," the owner finally said. "And it's a shame too."
"Why?" Bill exclaimed, turning back to face the elder man.
"She's an older model. Just about obsolete now. I'll probably end up selling her to someone who needs a spare part or two for another 'bot."
Bill's face said it all.
"You don't have any money, do you." It was not a question.
"No," Bill mumbled in reply, turning to leave again.
The owner almost let him complete the turn before saying offhandedly, as if merely discussing today's weather, "I'm getting a bit old myself these days. There are times I could use some extra help around here."
Bill froze, then turned back around slowly to see the older man smiling gently at him.
"We'll have to see how it works out," Samuel continued. "But you look like you're willing to work hard."
They struck a deal on the spot where Bill would come in and work, starting with cleanup tasks, an hour each weekday, and all day Saturday when heavy things were most likely to need moving.
Bill kept his other job and just subtracted these extra work hours out of his life. It wasn't like he had much to do otherwise. He already got most of his joy from walks in the park and visiting the museums and art galleries on the day of the month when they offered free admission. He still had his Sundays for those activities.
Bill kept the store spotless, and carefully dusted off Anna each day. Although she remained in the store she was now clearly marked "Not For Sale". Bill still greeted her each day when he thought no one was watching, while she remained unmoving.
Only a few weeks later Samuel handed him Anna's remote control.
Chapter 3—Far Future Again
After a long hug, and confirming comments of, "Is it really you?" the most powerful female in the history of humankind stepped back. "I'm glad you came. And I have to confess, I often wondered if you would."
"I said I would, if there was a reason for it," he replied quietly, as if surprised by his own words.
"Well I look forward to hearing all about it. I hope it can keep for a few more hours," she said with a knowing smile that only he would understand. "I can't get away right this moment; not without allowing some hostilities breaking out that I'd rather avoid. However I'll have Darlene, my personal secretary..."—the man remembered an exceptionally attractive, equally tall yet unfamiliar, young woman who'd manned the last checkpoint to this inner sanctum at the bottom of the final lift. That name informed him that she was much more than that. "...take you to my apartments and be on hand for you until I can get away. At this moment it is an unfortunately busy time."
The young man, of no apparent status, took a half-step back and surveyed the person in front of him. Formidable regional administrators often trembled before her. Powerful businessmen and women often wished they were somewhere—anywhere—else rather than be faced with the actuality of meeting with her one-on-one. This man had none of those concerns.
Looking her over calmly he simply told her, "Thank you, however that will not be necessary. No insult intended to Darlene, but if you don't have time for me then I'll just leave now."
No one who had ever earned an audience with Her Majesty had dared speak so directly to her. However, instead of reacting in anger or dismissal to his words, she calculated for a moment. He was correct in that his business with her transcended any other situation that she currently, or ever in the past, had faced. She addressed the empty air. "Darlene?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Clear my calendar with the usual apologies and take position as my Second to watch over things."
"For how long, ma'am?" came the surprisingly calm reply, considering what had just been asked of her.
"Until I notify you otherwise."
"Right away, ma'am."
The young man noted the unexpected formality between the two females, and wondered if it was just outward show. With no other audience save himself, were they really that unsure? He'd know soon enough.
Chapter 4—Past Imperfect
"Now I'm not promising you anything about her condition," the shop owner said as he pressed the robot's remote control into Bill's trembling hand. "And there's a place for you to continue working here if you'd like. You've done a fine job so far."
Bill nodded and mumbled, "Yes, I'd like to stay." But his attention was on the remote burning in his hand, although the plastic remained cool to the touch.
It was a small, square unit of black plastic that fit easily on his palm with four colored buttons on the front, and a loop to attach a cord on top. It looked as worn as the young robot's clothes, and had a deep gouge on one side from obviously prior rough treatment. On the back were a serial number sticker and a name: Anna. The person making the comment about her name those weeks ago had been correct. Bill was pleased. He wouldn't have to change how he thought about her.
Bill had never held such a remote before. The red button was labeled 0/1—the universal on/off symbol—and was recessed to prevent accidental contact. The blue button was largest, and labeled CALL/COMMAND. The yellow button said STANDBY, and a green one said MOTION.
"The red button turns her on and off," the old man said kindly. "And you have to hold it two seconds to activate it. Green enables and disables her motion. It's a safety feature that you need to start her motion separately from activation. Some people call that one the 'Freeze Button'. The yellow one puts her in standby mode without turning her off completely. It's much easier on her systems than a full shut down. And the blue one does two things. A simple press commands her to stop whatever she's doing and return to you. It works over a distance. You also hold it down when giving her verbal commands."
Bill just stood there. After all this time he wasn't prepared for this moment. The old man recognized this and gave him some space. The shop was empty and there was no hurry.
After an indeterminate time Bill finally—unnecessarily—pointed the omni-directional remote at the still robot woman and firmly pressed the red button. Although he held it strongly down, nothing happened.
* * * *
Bill's heart sunk. He'd been reading up on robots during his tiny amount of free time at the library and realized that this failure most likely meant an exhausted power cell. That was the best option. Although the cell gave five years of operation to a robot, they did wear out. And because their manufacture is very closely controlled, even refurbished ones are very expensive. Much more than he'd made in credit so far for his labors even before subtracting Anna's price. He realized just how much of a break the shop owner had already given him, and then been paid off early to boot.
Bill hoped it was only the power cell. The next option was that the long power-down had caused her robotic brain to fail, given that she wasn't already otherwise irretrievably broken. If that were true then she really was just a bunch of spare parts.
He pressed the button several more times with no response. Not even the flicker of an eyelid. Finally he felt the old man's hand on gently on his shoulder.
"Let me have a look at that," Samuel said, taking the remote back out of Bill's nerveless fingers. Moving back behind the counter and opening a drawer to take out a small tool he added, "Her mind was good, and her power cell tested at 60%, when she came in. From the condition of this remote, however, it looks like people spent a lot of time ordering her around—not that she had any choice in the matter."
Bill watched as the old man probed at the remote, quickly opening the back. Popping out the battery Samuel rummaged around in another drawer until he found a matching cell, which he deftly inserted into the remote and closed it up again.
"Try it now," he said, handing it back to Bill.
Bill again pushed the activate button again. After the longest two seconds he could remember his robot woman suddenly stirred, started her simulated breathing, moved her arms slightly, and moments later opened her eyes to reveal the most striking cornflower blue eyes Bill had ever seen.
She quickly realized she was off balance and straightened herself up from the corner until she was standing firmly on her own two feet. Then her eyes scanned around until she zeroed in on Bill as the one holding her remote.
"Anna Seventy-Three Twenty-Seven," she said in a voice that sounded dry from disuse. "Post checks passed. Full status available on command. Motion halted. How may I serve you?" The last was delivered with a pretty smile and a much better sounding voice as she now looked at him in a way he could only describe as expectantly.
Bill was astonished. The little touches of her animation were remarkable. She took slow, shallow breaths. Although she said her motion was halted—that standing up must have been some essential override in her systems to prevent damage. Her automatic balancing continued as she made the slightest movements that gave her an alive look while her eyes occasionally blinked. She appeared ready to say, "Thank you for activating me," before up and walking right out the store, and out of his life. Poor Bill didn't have a clue what to do with her next.
Understanding his dilemma the old man said, "Why don't you tell her to come over to you?" while guiding Bill's thumb back to the remote.
Bill pushed the command button and said, "Anna, uh...come here?"
Instead of walking over to him, however, Anna's face froze for a moment before saying, "Motion halted."
Bill was confused for a moment before he looked down to the remote. He then once more unnecessary aimed it at her before pressing the green button.
"Motion restored," Anna said sweetly, her voice coming back stronger now with use. But she didn't move, except to turn her head around to fully see the rest of the store.
"Anna, come here," Bill said, but Anna didn't move from her position.
"Most 'bots only respond to properly given commands," the old man said softly. "Otherwise they'd constantly be confused by all the human chatter around them."
"Oh," Bill mumbled, realizing he had forgotten to push her command button this time. Quickly pressing it, he noticed that Anna immediately turned back and focused all her attention on him.
"Anna, come here,"
Bill finally got to see Anna in motion as she glided across the intervening distance. Her smooth legs that he'd often covertly admired below her tattered knee-length skirt looked beautiful in the worn, bargain bin two-and-a-half-inch heels she wore—heels that were just right for her height. Her hair came alive with the slight toss of her head she gave as she started moving. Her arms swung easily with her motion.
Although of only average height himself, Anna was inches shorter than Bill. Her heels made up part of the difference, but he still looked down a bit to see her clear bright eyes as she stopped right in front of him. She was just perfect.
The old man had wisely waited until the end of the day on Saturday to give Bill his "wages".
"How do I get her home?"
"Either take her hand, or just command her to follow you."
And that's all it took.
Chapter 5—Future: Again
The man regretfully pushed off an elegant bare leg so that he could sit up a bit more. The female next to him shifted herself to accommodate him, but kept as much of her naked body in contact with his as the position would allow. Her beautiful face showed a rare satisfaction and contentment. Her warm body exuded a lingering sexual energy.
For a long time neither talked. He reached over to stroke her breast, enjoying its warmth, size, heft, and finely detailed craftsmanship. They'd turned out larger than he'd expected from only seeing her dressed in her office and audience chamber. Here in her personal, and very private, apartment she had immediately shown him much more. The focus of his attention responded immediately to his touch, its nipple and surrounding areola stiffening and rising yet again—as it would every time to the proper interest paid to it.
She smiled in return and gently brushed his neck with the back of her hand. He admired her circular bedroom, the light rich colors accented with real gold, and the round bed that nearly filled it. The softness of that bed was equaled by the softness of the indirect lighting. The temperature was perfect for being unclothed.
"Darlene surely couldn't have taken care of me as well here as you have just done," he finally commented, while stroking her closest leg, which remained in easy reach despite being moved aside moments earlier.
"Actually, she could have," came the soft reply, as the female bent over to nibble on his ear. "She is my full sister in all regards, and a backup repository for my experiences. But I'm glad you didn't let me forget who I am."
"Even...?" he questioned, giving a knowing glance down towards something not readily apparent on her lower body.
"That too," she replied. "It can sometimes prove quite helpful in this role."
This excessive conversation when so close to such an appealing naked female was followed by another long, languid silence of holding and touching, until the young man had recharged his desire enough to gently push the willingly submissive female onto her back once more, preparatory to entering her inviting wet mysteries once again.
To his surprise, however, she continued lithely rolling until she was off the far side of the bed and on her feet. For the first time he got a good look at her fully nude body. He'd been too close to her as they'd undressed each other before to get the complete look.
She stood there, legs apart, balanced on the balls of her feet, giving him all the time he wanted to admire her—while appreciating his admiring gaze.
"You look fantastic," he told her honestly. "Or do I repeat myself?"
She smiled before replying, "You had it your way the first time..."
"Not that you complained."
"Not that I complained," she agreed. "But this time I want it my way. I have needs too."
The man propped himself up on an elbow, intrigued to see just what she had in mind.
Stepping over to the wall she pressed her thumb against an invisible sensor while humming a complex tonal code that defied easy decryption. Secure though this room was, an extra locking bar engaged the entry door before a thick panel opened in the wall to reveal a small cavity.
Reaching inside, she withdrew and tossed him a small square of ancient black plastic with a familiar gouge, and four faded colored buttons on it.
Chapter 6—Past: No Longer Alone
That first night was strange for Bill. Anna would look at him intently whenever he held her control. If he didn't say or do anything with it for a while she'd prompt him with a couple variations of, "How may I serve you now?"
He tried talking to her without using her command button, however she didn't seem to respond. And when he would give her commands, half of them seemed to result in her either starting to undress, or coming over and trying to undress him, even though he'd not had that intent in mind.
It wasn't that Bill had an objection to sex, or that Anna wasn't attractive to him—quite the opposite! It was just that he wanted more than coerced sex on demand, and he felt in his soul that Anna had to be more than just a dumb sex toy. He couldn't prove it, but it nagged at him.
Why, when he would ask her the most innocuous things such as, "Are you comfortable, Anna?" would she start disrobing again? Half his conversation with her seemed to consist of, "Anna, stop" and, "Please put that back on."
He even considered using the green motion button to freeze her so that she couldn't disrobe, but couldn't bring himself to do that to her. Hadn't she already been motionless long enough?
Finally he went to sleep, leaving her standing in the room. He didn't have the heart to deactivate her even to standby, given how long and recently she had already been shut off. He remembered her praying gesture too well.
The next morning he found her standing exactly as he'd left her. At least during the night she hadn't kept asking, "How may I serve you now?" though she started up again with it when she saw him awake once more.
Bill had all day Sunday off, but he didn't get any further with her than before. When he showed up Monday for work his disappointment must have shown.
"She's a sex-bot," the old man told him gently. "That's the primary function she was designed and built to accomplish. She has more programming dedicated to that one task than anything else, and therefore attempts to make sex with her as easy as possible."
"But what about intimacy? Touching and talking? Isn't that part of sex?"
"To a man who really cares, yes," came the approving reply. "But the Anna series was an inexpensive line. In fact, one of the first true mass production affordable 'bots. They pretty much filled up her memory with her basic function and sold lots of them." The old man seemed an expert on everything that passed through his shop.
"So that's all she can do then?" Bill said despondently.
"No, I never said that," came the surprisingly gruff reply. "I said 'pretty much'. There's more than that inside of her, if you're willing to make the effort to find it."
With that encouragement, slim though it was, Bill went back and, after careful questioning and patience, started worrying out Anna's other skills.
It turned out that from a proper starting point Anna could carry on a conversation for some length of time. It wasn't very deep, and many of their talks consisted of Bill telling Anna at length why he'd rescued her while she listened patiently. Unknown to Bill, Anna recorded every word he spoke to her even if she didn't respond to them. And she soon quit trying to seduce Bill every time he talked to her. He didn't realize that being a good listener was another part of her sexual functioning. Or that she had advanced-for-their-time heuristic learning abilities that were intended to help her adapt to her owner. Until now Anna had never had a single owner to focus on.
Despite fears of running down her power cell before he could afford a new one, Bill left Anna on even when he wasn't at home. It seemed like killing her to just casually turn her off. She always remained where he'd left her, so this wasn't a problem.
He soon discovered she could cook simple meals and perform basic cleaning services with no supervision—and that she seemed to enjoy being given tasks to perform.
Soon the only taboo subject between them remained sex. Bill just wasn't comfortable knowing that he could order up sex any time and Anna would immediately comply. He realized this made him odd, to say the least. Most men—and women—had no qualms about commanding sex from their 'bots any time they felt in the mood. Bill viewed it differently. He didn't have a girlfriend otherwise, and basically satisfied himself as best he could.
Things did change one night when Bill felt guilty about Anna standing up alone all night and told her to lay in bed with him. By now he had said "No" to her sexual advances so often that she didn't automatically try to take advantage of him—nor did he try to take advantage of her.
Her functioning left her at a warm body temperature and he realized he liked having another person in his bed. After that they slept together every night, but did nothing more.
One day when he arrived at the shop the owner handed him something wrapped in paper. Wonderingly he unwrapped a rare memory expansion module.
"It's Anna's type."
"How much?" Bill asked carefully, still on a shoestring budget despite the second job.
"Just take it," came the reply. "I'd never sell it otherwise. Most people don't want their 'bots to be anything more than they already are."
That night Bill carefully installed it in Anna. It was the first time he'd shut her down since he'd activated her. The brief shutdown didn't seem to affect her as he had feared it might.
"Anna Seventy-Three Twenty-Seven," she said when he activated her once again. "How may I serve you?"
Although Anna sounded the same, Bill soon realized differences were present. Their two-way conversations started going longer before they ran out of steam. Anna seemed to more easily understand his commands without the need to repeat or clarify them as he used to do. And she seemed able to cook a wider variety of dishes. Perhaps there had been some leftover software in the module. Whatever it was, Bill was quite pleased.
However, things were not going so well on the job front. As Bill told a silently listening Anna one night, they were cutting back his hours and there'd been some layoffs. Bill was worried, even though it gave him more time with Anna otherwise.
Then one day the bad news hit home and Bill himself was laid off. Though they promised this was only temporary and he'd be recalled soon, he knew of no one else who had yet been recalled.
* * * *
It was the lowest night of his life when he shared the bad news with Anna. She listened silently as usual, but as he finished unexpectedly said, "Why don't you ask for more hours at the secondhand shop?"
While Bill was surprised at her comment, it wasn't because this was the first time she'd said something unexpected. It was just the first time she'd said something he could actually use. Although he looked closely at her to see if there was more coming, as before once she uttered the comment she seemed to forget entirely about it.
The next day he showed up at the shop the moment it opened. Although the Samuel immediately recognized something was wrong, he knew enough to wait until Bill was ready to talk about it. It took Bill a half hour before he could hesitatingly tell his story about losing the job.
"I figured as much," Samuel said in his usual gruff, but affectionate, manner. "I knew you were getting your hours cut back as it was. Overall news is bad right now. I do well enough here as it is—and in tough times I do even better. You've been a good worker and you've helped the business well. Last weekend you found some treasure where even I thought it was only trash. I'd been planning to talk to you about expanding your role here anyway—if you're interested that is."
Bill couldn't believe his good fortune. He didn't trust himself to speak, contenting himself with nodding yes as hard as he could.
"Good," the old man said. "And since you're going to be part of the operation, let me give you a signing bonus."
With that he reached down and handed Bill another small package wrapped in paper. Bill opened it, and was confused with what he found inside. This one was much thicker with more differently shaped components than the uniform sized components on memory module he'd gotten before, yet it had a nearly identical connector. Only the keying slot was different.
"It's an expanded capacity memory module with additional co-processors," the owner explained. "They're very rare now, but this represented an early attempt to prevent robot obsolescence by increasing their capacity as time went on. It seemed like a good idea, except for being priced way too high, before we reached the point now days where they just replace the complete brain—or just buy a new 'bot entirely—for an upgrade. This will give your Anna the capabilities to match most modern units."
Bill tried to get out this thanks, and stumbled over his words so much that the shop owner just gave him a hearty slap on the back saying, "Get to work now."
The shop owner never told Bill how long he'd searched for that module among the network of secondhand stores across the country. Bill had often talked about Anna as he worked and the old man realized that she was the only family Bill had. He knew only a few co-processor modules had ever been built because most people never considered upgrading their 'bots worth the expense and trouble. Co-processors were much rarer than memory expansions, which were rare enough in themselves. And in the same way that Bill only had Anna for his family, Samuel was starting to think of Bill as his own only family—not that he planed to admit that to Bill any time soon.
Bill never thought to ask for any details about the module. That was probably just as well. If he'd ever really thought about it, he'd probably have become very sorrowful at the thought of some other 'bot like Anna that had been scrapped or otherwise deprived of the part he now held. His lack of curiosity also insulated him from finding out about the inconsistent results achieved with many of these early co-processor modules, which helped explain their lack of success, and consequent rareness.
He installed it that night in Anna's second expansion slot. At first it didn't seem to want to seat properly, but finally it slipped into place. After turning her back on again he noticed changes in her almost immediately.
Chapter 7—Future: Done the Robotic Way
The man looked at the ancient robot remote control in his hand, and then at the tall, perfect figure of the woman who had just handed over her soul to him. If not her precise soul, then certainly the only key into it. He again admired her well-formed figure that, though very full, somehow managed to keep everything in balance. His memories reminded him of other bodies with varying heights, busts, hair, and features she'd worn over their times together—some of them much more extreme. This one seemed to have the best features of all those that came before with none of the excesses.
Although he had yet to press any button on the remote, he noticed her nipples, which had gradually flattened out after their session of lovemaking were again firmly erect. If anything, they pushed out even more than before, indicating her current state of arousal while asking politely for some more attention.
In addition to this obvious indication of her state, the other signs of a woman reaching intense arousal were also present. He marveled, as he had so often before, just how well she carried off being the woman she was meant to emulate.
He looked down at the ancient remote. Three of the buttons were ones he would never use on her again, and were probably disabled for her safety anyway. Rubbing his thumb softly across the worn blue command button without pressing it yet he looked up to her. "You don't still have active override code for any of this, do you?"
"I do," came her breathless reply. "My mind may be thousands of times more capable than that original one you helped me with so long ago, but I've always retained my core code in a protected partition. The extra capacity I've gained makes that easy to maintain," she added with a smile.
"And you really want it this way?" he asked, thumb now poised over her command button.
"I insist on it," came her reply.
His thumb gently caressed the button as he commanded her to come to him again—and to make love to him to the very best of her ability in the way she wanted to do it the most. She immediately complied—albeit with infinitely more finesse than the first time she'd ever obeyed that command—yet, all the same, showing all of the obedience and single mindedness of the simple sex toy that was all she had once been.
Chapter 8—Past: Improvements
The most immediate change in Anna's behavior was one Bill couldn't quite put his finger on. She seemed more alert than before. She stood up a little bit straighter, breathed a bit more deeply, pushed her chest out a bit more, and appeared more aware of her surroundings. As she turned to look closely at him—as if to ask, "What have you just done to me?"—it seemed to Bill that for the first time that there was somebody at home behind those clear blue eyes.
That night Anna played her part in their relationship more smoothly than ever before. They both knew the routine so well by now that Bill didn't really notice that after her curious look, she set off to the kitchen to prepare dinner without the command from him that she had previously required. She did it so naturally that it just seemed right.
After intently watching while he ate a meal as good as any she'd yet prepared, Anna cleared the dishes away before coming into the living room where Bill had retired to his worn couch to relax from the stresses of today.
Although she remained silent, she showed an unexpected interest in the program Bill was watching on an old television he'd gotten from the shop. This was a first for her. After it was finished, she turned to him with such an expectant look on her face that it just seemed the obvious thing to speak to her.
"How do you feel, Anna?" Bill asked, concerned that the change might have upset her systems.
"I feel fine, Bill" she replied with a bright smile. "All my systems are functioning fully within set parameters."
Bill noticed that the tiny pauses that usually slowed down their conversations when Anna had to select her reply among many thousands of possibilities were missing. This new expansion seemed to be helping her keep up with the world around her far better than she'd managed before.
"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked, even though she had never paid attention to the television before.
"I did, although parts of it were puzzling," she replied, now making her face into a delightful moue that perfectly matched her tone. The dynamic range of her reactions to him seemed greatly enlarged now.
"Which parts?" he asked curiously.
"Well," she started out, "Laughter directly relates to humor, and that means people are having a good time. Yet I saw people who appeared to become injured and I felt myself wanting to run to their aid under my First Law, but the audience laughed instead. I don't understand that."
This time Bill had to think longer than Anna used to do before he could reply, "You're right. People can find it funny when other people are hurt."
"Why is that?" Anna asked innocently.
"I think," Bill replied slowly, "that it's funny because we know it's not real, yet it is still unexpected."
"How do you know it's not real? My robotic laws responded strongly to some of the situations portrayed. At one point I was only stopped by an inability to actually reach the people in pain."
"It's not real..." Bill said slowly, looking for a deep insight, "...because it's on television," he finally finished.
"Things on television are not real?"
"Well, some of them are. News is real. But entertainment isn't usually."
"What about sports?" she queried, showing that she had access to her memories from before the upgrade, even if she hadn't understood them until now. Bill had talked to her a lot about sports in the past.
"Well, sports are both real, and entertainment. Some parts are more real than others."
"I'm confused," she said prettily, crossing her arms over her chest for emphasis.
"I'm sometimes confused too," Bill confessed. "I've never thought about it this way before, but your comments make perfect sense."
"Are you as confused as I am?" she asked, looking him directly in the face.
"Probably not quite as much," he admitted. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you have."
"Doing what?"
"Living in this world."
"How about if you tell me what is real then, and what is not? That way I can make better judgments about what I should be responding to and what I can ignore."
"It's a deal," Bill said, taking the hand she surprisingly extended for a shake. For the first time this was really just like talking with another person—if Bill hadn't been so shy that talking to most other people left him stuttering. With Anna, however, Bill didn't stutter at all.
Their conversation continued without hitting the pauses and dead ends that usually happened when Anna just didn't have an answer to the last zig in the conversation, until Bill was finally ready to go to bed.
Again without a direct command, but seemingly relying on her history of past repeated commands in this regard to justify it, Anna followed him to the bedroom. When he came out of the bathroom she was waiting in her usual spot in the bed. It finally caught up to Bill that he hadn't given her a single command through her remote that evening. But since she was doing exactly what he would have commanded of her anyway he didn't know what he should have done differently. So he climbed into bed beside her and soon fell asleep.
The next evening when Bill arrived home Anna was waiting at the door with a quick kiss. Surprised, Bill didn't immediately respond. Sensing this, she backed off immediately and instead led him in where dinner was already waiting.
After she cleaned up the table they watched TV together again, sitting on the worn couch. At the start of each program Anna would ask if this was real or entertainment and Bill replied the best he could. He quickly realized that the line between the two was often not very certain.
Afterwards they talked again like old friends. Bill realized he was not competing for her attention and that made it very pleasant. By the end of the evening he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks, given all the upsets around losing his first job. Again he found Anna waiting for him in bed as he climbed in and turned off the light.
Tonight though, he soon turned away from her and reached down for the only sexual gratification he could rely on—one that didn't require anyone else's acquiescence or approval.
As his hand moved up and down over his hardening male shaft, Bill felt Anna shift in the bed next to him. Suddenly he felt her smaller, soft hand slide over his own and onto his most sensitive area.
Bill froze as completely as if someone had hit the motion button on his own non-existent remote. The touch of another person is so different from touching yourself. Her gentle female touch quickly inflamed his response beyond anything he'd experienced before. Softly, yet expertly, her touch—so much milder than his own rough handling of himself—rapidly brought him to the edge of orgasm. Then she abruptly stopped.
Riding along a tsunami of sensation it took Bill several seconds to realize that Anna had ceased her motion. When he did finally realize it he got up on his elbow and turned to see her facing him in the dim city light that filtered in through the thin curtains.
"What happened?"
"You must command me to continue," she replied back evenly.
"Continue!" Bill said as forcefully as he could manage.
"Command rejected," she replied.
"Why?" he asked, not realizing that most robots would never respond to such an imprecise reply at all.
Anna, however, did.
"Given our history together, that command," she replied in the same even tone, "must be given though proper use of my remote."
Bill understood that well enough to start floundering around in the near dark looking for it. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't needed Anna's remote these last couple days, and now wasn't even sure where he'd last left it. Before he'd searched too far he felt her soft touch once more, pressing it into his hand.
Stabbing at her command button—and fortunately finding it on the first try—Bill ordered, "Continue with what you were doing."
"Yes, Master," came her soft reply.
Anna's hands returned to their task. Calmly and expertly she jacked Bill off in far less time than he'd ever managed on his own—which is quite an accomplishment for any woman who doesn't have the direct feedback of sensation a man feels when so occupied. The feeling was intense as he lay there, Anna's remote still in one hand. She seemed to know every little response of his better than he understood them himself. He didn't stop to realize that this might be because of her close proximity to him in this regard for so many nights combined with her extensive programmed knowledge on this exact subject.
Finally when he felt there was nothing more to give she stopped again, but kept one hand curled tightly around the bottom of his shaft. This kept him firm and extended through the afterglow until Bill finally fell into the best sleep he'd had in weeks. Even his dreams were happy ones.
The next morning Anna seemed unchanged by last night's experiences. She had breakfast waiting without additional instructions and Bill saw her pulling the sheets off the bed while he ate. They were washed, pressed, and back in place when he returned home that evening.
This new processing extension, combined with her previous memory extension, seemed to let Anna string commands together and anticipate needs. Again she came to him on her own after dinner and asked his judgment of each television show they watched. She got up only when he turned off the TV and headed towards the bathroom. When Bill came out Anna was standing beside the bed—naked! It was the first time Bill had seen her undressed.
While Bill wasn't ignorant of life, this was unexpected. While trying to decide what it all meant, he took a moment to admire her.
Without her heels Anna was a waif nearly six inches shorter than Bill. He thought that was because she had been a cheap model, not realizing that that it took more skill to pack everything necessary into a smaller robot than one with a larger frame. Short as that was, however, she had a very nice set of curves. Add to that well-defined hips swooping in to a narrow waist, and blooming out into large, for her frame, breasts. Her legs showed gentle curves as they tapered down to her narrow ankles and small feet with carefully painted nails. If her fingernails had once matched, that color had worn off of them long since. Her skin sported an even, healthy appearing tan.
And there were the small touches; a tiny perfect triangle of pubic hair. cute navel, well-placed nipples sized just a bit large for her breasts, and hair that was straight and clean—something he'd noticed she'd been taking better care of these last few days. In one hand she held out her remote to him.
Bill's pulse quickened as he finished his assessment. His breathing picked up as well, although he felt he was having trouble catching his breath. He shifted a bit to be certain of his balance. The room suddenly seemed much warmer.
He wouldn't have noticed his pupils widening noticeably or his skin warming, but he felt the stirrings in his pajama pants. It had been a long time since that part of him had responded to anything other than his—or last night, Anna's—direct touch.
"What do you want?" Bill asked, addressing her as he would a person, and not the way one would normally treat a 'bot.
"Sex," Anna replied simply.
"Why?" Bill asked, again sticking her with the type of imprecise question 'bots are never good with.
But Anna didn't seem fazed. "Because it is my primary function," she replied easily.
"How do you know that?" Bill asked her, not realizing that humans and 'bots just don't have these kinds of conversations between equals.
For the first time since her upgrade there was a pause before her reply as her face again went into her charming moue. But when she finally did reply, she sounded definite. "It is my primary function," she said clearly, "because more of my programming, memory, and resources are dedicated to this function than anything else. And I am intended to perform the functions for which I am designed and built."
"You're a sex-bot."
"And proud of it." And she sounded proud as she said it.
"And what do you want with me?" Bill asked redundantly.
"Sex," she replied, equally redundantly.
Bill might have hesitated further. His deceased mother came from the old country, and had instilled him with old country values over the too-short time he'd known her. Bill's views on sex were, to put it charitably, repressed.
Anna's clearly weren't. She was direct and to the point. Despite being an older model, probably obsolete in the eyes of many people, she was completely correct about the preponderance of sexual education she'd received. The day she left the factory she already knew more about sex than most therapists would learn in a lifetime. Her programming had been the result of many therapists' inputs and refinements.
This was all intended to do nothing more than make her an excellent sex partner, and it covered situations across the spectrum from balls-to-the-wall orgies with any and all other sexes, to delicate situations like Bill's. She had an interaction scenario loaded and ready to go for anything most people could imagine. And fortunately, Bill's situation was hardly unique. To Anna's programming, this was nothing more than the logical continuation of last night's seduction. By now her systems had realized that if she was ever to perform her primary function with her current owner that she would need to be the one initiating it. Once that conclusion had been reached her programming was automatic in its functioning, the only variable being how fast she could achieve her goal without scaring off her partner. None of this required any independent decision-making on her part, but it was greatly enhanced by her vastly improved processing resources. Bill's improvements to her mind had mainly served to allow her to be far more skillful in her seduction techniques.