EYE CANDY - Chapter 24: No More Substance Than Shadows
Robots don't fall in love.
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Check-out time was 11:00 a.m.
Danny and Candy departed their room and floated to the austere white dining room, where they savored a complimentary continental breakfast, enjoyed entirely in zero G.
They admired the view through the massive windows, and looked down upon the Earth. They oohed and ahhed at the swirls of white clouds, the greens and browns of north America, and the impossibly-blue ocean surrounding it.
Candy and Danny took turns feeding each other forkfuls of scrambled eggs and crispy fried potatoes, laughing each time a bite escaped the tines of the fork and one of them was unable to gobble it out of the air.
Pouches of hot coffee accompanied warm, freshly-baked cinnamon rolls spread generously with icing. Candy dabbed a bit of the icing onto her finger and held it out so that Danny could suck her finger clean.
But she dabbed the icing onto the tip of his nose.
Candy laughed almost uncontrollably. Danny fixed her with a wry grin, waiting for her to wipe off the icing.
At last, Candy gently removed the icing from Danny’s nose. She sucked on her own finger, savoring the icing while Danny watched.
They hadn’t actually made love the night before, and Danny felt the ache of a needed release returning after a sound night’s sleep. The bed in their room was mounted vertically to one wall, with the sheets and blankets affixed to form a giant envelope of comfort. Danny and Candy had floated around their cabin, arms and legs entwined, kissing passionately and occasionally admiring the view of the lights of the United States at night.
But the moment of congress had never seemed to arrive. With heavy eyes, they at last slid down into the bed and cinched the covers to hold them in place while they slept.
The packets of Love In Space remained unopened, forgotten.
After breakfast, Candy and Danny boarded the shuttle for the flight back to the Space Port. Re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere was a blazing, sparking light show that in and of itself was worth the price of their fares.
The ride soon smoothed out, the captain announced that they were lined up for their approach, and all too soon the wheels of the orbiter chirped on the runway.
~
Candy and Danny sat on her sofa two hours later, side by side, holding hands.
They savored the silence.
“What a night,” Candy murmured.
Danny smiled.
She rolled her head sideways on the sofa cushion. “How come we didn’t . . . you know?”
Danny shrugged. “I was happy doing what we were doing. I don’t mind waiting.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Do you?”
“No, I don’t mind at all. It’s kind of nice, I think.” Candy yawned and stretched. “How long should we wait?”
Danny shrugged once more. “Once upon a time, people waited until they were married.”
“I always thought that was so quaint. But I never really understood if it was actually possible. I always thought that if I loved someone enough to want to marry him, I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and wouldn’t want to wait. I’d want to fuck like minks all the time, all day every day, and all night every night. But I guess that’s the point, huh? You want to do it really, really badly, but you don’t. You wait until you’re married.”
“How do minks fuck?”
“What?”
“Minks. How do they mate? Everyone always uses that expression ‘fuck like minks.’ Do minks fuck a lot? More than, say, rabbits? Or gorillas? Or lions?”
“Rabbits are known to be rather amorous creatures,” said Candy. “I don’t know about gorillas or lions.”
“I’ve seen video of gorillas doing it. The big male Silverback gorilla was putting the female into different positions. First, he did her from behind. Then he turned her over and did missionary. Then he sat up and spread her legs. It was almost like watching porn.”
Candy laughed.
“And lions mate for, like, three days. They do it something like eighty times,” said Danny. “I think that’s the most in the animal kingdom.”
“I’m sure Helen and Sparky could give them a run for their money,” said Candy. “It just goes to show you that God created all living creatures with an almost irresistible urge to reproduce.”
“If there is a God,” said Danny. “I’m hopeful, but, for me, the jury is still out on that one. After all, you and I resisted while we were in orbit last night.”
Candy smiled. “That’s why I said almost irresistible. You want to make a bet?”
“What kind of bet?”
“I’ll bet you a million dollars that I can make you believe in God.”
“Do you have a million dollars to bet with?”
“No,” said Candy. “I don’t need it because I’m going to win the bet. You said your airplane is worth a million-five, right? I’ll bet you your airplane that I can make you believe in God.”
“My Viper Jet? I’m not sure I want to make that bet. Besides, how are we going to prove it one way or another? Mankind has been trying to prove the existence of God for eons. Without success. And I’m talking about real substance, here. It’s like chasing shadows.”
“I’m not talking about discovering some almighty physical, scientific proof of the existence of God,” said Candy. “I’m talking about making you believe.”
Candy extended her hand.
Danny examined it closely. “What? Is there a hundred-dollar bill in there?”
“Do we have a bet?”
Danny remained silent.
“See, the great Doctor Olivaw is at a loss for words once something tangible is on the line . . . like an airplane.”
“I worked hard for that airplane. It was my lifelong dream to have my very own fighter jet. I worked and I saved and I worked and I saved and then I worked and saved some more, and I finally got it.”
“By the grace of God.”
Danny merely raised one eyebrow in doubt.
Candy’s open hand remained outstretched. “So? Do we have a bet?”
“I’m not sure I want to wager my airplane.”
The phone rang.
Candy answered it, listened, and hung up. “Well, doubting Thomas, I’ve got to go downstairs for a bit.”
“You have a client?”
“Clients,” said Candy. “Plural. They’re on their way. I need some coffee. You want some coffee? I’m not sure it’ll help you find the Lord but it might help you wake up a little bit.”
Danny followed Candy into the kitchen. “But it’s Saturday. It’s supposed to be our day off. I was thinking we could take the Viper Jet for a spin. One last flight before I gamble it away to you. Maybe go out to Catalina for some lunch.”
Danny felt strange and somehow guilty making such a suggestion. But the truth was that he and Harley had indeed had a nice time at The Blue Bar, and he wanted to repeat the experience. But this time he wanted to share the experience with the woman he truly wanted to be with. He wouldn’t take Candy to The Blue Bar, however. That place would be forever associated with Harley. He and Candy would find a place of their own.
“Catalina sounds nice,” said Candy. She filled the coffee maker with coffee beans. The machine ground the beans and began applying hot water. “I haven’t been there in years. We could go there for dinner, after my clients leave. We can take the ferry if you don’t feel like flying.”
“I always feel like flying.”
“Or if you feel like having some drinks. Maybe we should get a room someplace. Have you ever been to Catalina? Suze told me about this place with an underwater dining room called The Blue Bar.”
“Uh, yes, I’ve been there once.”
Candy retrieved two mugs from the cupboard. “You’ve been to Catalina or to The Blue Bar?”
“Both.”
“Oh, great. When was that?”
“It was . . .” Danny tried his best to recall the past several days in reverse, trying to figure out when he and Harley had gone to Catalina. But an impending feeling of guilt, mixed with dread, made it difficult to think. “Tuesday.”
“Tuesday? That was the day after our shuttle crash. The day Barney killed himself. You and I went flying that night after the cops left my office.”
Danny didn’t know what to say. The feelings of guilt were growing. The reason he had refused Harley’s physical advances was the same reason he never should have taken her flying. It now seemed a rather obvious mistake. He didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t say anything.
But Candy stood waiting. Soothing sounds of percolation emanated from the coffee maker.
“I went with a friend of a friend,” Danny said at last. “It was a date, actually. I think.”
“Ooh, a hot date to Catalina. I suspected you were quite the ladies’ man, doctor. Who’s the lucky girl?”
The gears of Danny’s mind whirred so loudly he thought surely even Candy could hear them. He had not been expecting Candy’s mild, non-threatened, and non-judgmental reaction. “Her name’s Harley.”
“Harley?” Candy went to her coffee table and grabbed her large tablet computer. She thumbed through the index of magazines until she found the issue she was looking for and handed the tablet to Danny. “Is that her?”
On the cover was Harley, wearing a short black skirt and heels, and showing a lot of leg. A lot of leg. And a lot of cleavage, too. She looked sexy but also very intellectual behind black horn-rimmed eyeglasses. In her palm she held the bodiless head of a robot. Bright red letters said, “The New Face of Robotics.”
“Yep, that’s her.”
“They put out the issue after she officially joined her grandfather’s company.”
“Do you know her?”
“I know of her. I’ve never met her. I don’t think we see eye to eye on much when it comes to robotics. She favors a more restrictive approach, wants to make robots more mindless, with less ability to think for themselves. Wants them all slaved to a more powerful cloud computer which simply issues commands and runs diagnostics, rather than individual, sovereign robots who aren’t beholden to a corporation. Her corporation.”
“Interesting.”
“What’s she like?”
“She’s nice enough. Smart. Likes to drink beer and watch football. Rides a motorcycle.” Danny skipped over the part with all the drinking during the Niner game. He couldn’t remember it anyway.
“She has a reputation for playing the field.”
Harley had indeed been ready to get physical soon after she’d arrived at Santa Monica Airport. If Danny had suggested it, Harley probably would’ve been willing to skip the flight altogether and go have sex in the hangar.
“Did you guys–”
“No.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to ask you.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I was going to ask if you guys went to The Blue Bar.”
“Oh. Yes, we did.”
“What did you think I was going to ask you?”
“If we . . .” Danny couldn’t immediately think of a polite euphemism for sex, if such a euphemism even existed.
“Did it?” Candy asked.
“Yeah.”
“Like minks?”
“Yeah. I mean no.”
“You guys didn’t do it?”
“No.”
“You can tell me if you did. You and I had only been on, like, one-and-a-half dates. And we nearly died in that shuttle crash.”
“What does the shuttle crash have to do with it?”
“I dunno. People do kooky stuff after a near-death experience. Once they realize how close they came to dying and to no longer having the opportunity to do all the things they’d always planned on doing, sometimes they go a little crazy. They go out and start doing some of those things. Like skydiving or bungee jumping. Or sleeping with billionaire roboticist heiresses.” Candy grabbed the tablet from Danny and studied the image of Harley. “With really nice legs. And really nice boobs. Bitch. I wonder where she gets her hair done.”
Danny went to Candy, took the tablet from her hands and placed it on the counter, face down. He slid his arms around Candy’s waist.
“No. She and I didn’t do it. And certainly not like minks. Truthfully, I’m dreading her calling me again. And I’m thankful that she hasn’t. I wish I had never taken her up in the first place. I should’ve canceled. Howard and I almost died following those damn Navy pilots. Howard did all the flying, by the way. Man, can he fly.”
“How come you didn’t tell me any of this?”
“I wanted to forget about it. It wasn’t important. I just wanted to get home so I could call you.”
Candy kissed Danny’s lips.
Then she poured coffee into the mugs.
“I’ve only ever taken the ferry out to Catalina.” She spooned Stevia powder into each mug, stirred, and added a splash of milk. “It departs out of Marina del Rey.”
“That sounds fun.”
Candy handed a mug to Danny. “How did you meet Harley, anyway?”
“At the pub. My friend Rory invited me to watch the game and after you and I had almost died in the shuttle crash–”
“Rory?”
“Yeah.”
“Rory Calhoun?”
“Yeah. You know Rory?”
“Yeah, I know Rory. We went to school together. I think he has a thing for me.”
“So you’re the one.”
“I’m the one what?”
“At lunch on Tuesday, Rory told me he’s got the hots for some chick but he wouldn’t say who. We got to talking after I showed him your panties–”
“You showed him my panties?”
“Oh, uh . . . I’m sorry.”
“Those were just for you.”
“I know. Thank you, by the way. It may be the single sexiest, most endearing thing anyone has ever done for me. Don’t worry, I didn’t let Rory touch them. Or smell them.”
“He wanted to smell them?”
“He wanted to buy them.”
“But you didn’t let him.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“So, Rory’s got a thing for you?”
“He hit on me the night you and I had our first date. He and Tim were here waiting for me literally in my house after you left.”
“Tim was here, too?”
“Yeah, you know Tim?”
“A little. I’ve met him a few times. Wait a second, Rory and Tim were in your house? How’d they get in?”
“Tim found my spare key hidden in the gnome.”
“What gnome? I never saw a gnome.”
“That’s because I took the gnome inside after I kicked them out. After Rory asked me out to dinner.”
“Fascinating. Rory has a thing for you. Harley has a thing for me. But Harley and Rory are fooling around.”
“Harley and Rory are fooling around?” Candy looked surprised.
“I think so. That’s the impression I got at the pub. We were all doing shots but she seemed to have no compunction about touching him. If you know what I mean.”
“Makes sense. She and Rory and Tim all work together.” Candy laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s funny that you know Rory and Tim, and I know Rory and Tim, but you and I never met. We met on the Internet, two complete strangers, but it turns out that we have friends in common but never realized it until now. Small world.”
“That reminds me, Tim is having his annual–”
“Fireworks extravaganza,” Danny and Candy said in unison.
“And I was hoping you would be my date,” Danny concluded.
“I’d love to be your date. You think Rory and Tim and Harley will all be there?”
“Tim will be, since it’s his party and his house. I’m sure Rory will be there, too. Don’t know about Harley. Tim wants us to be there Tuesday night and Wednesday night, then head home Thursday morning. So we should pack an overnight bag.”
“What if it’s weird and awkward and uncomfortable? What if Rory keeps hitting on me? What if he corners me in an upstairs bathroom and professes his love to me and tries to give me his underwear?”
“Any time you want to leave, just say the magic word.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“It’s usually ‘please’ but I don’t think that will work in this situation. What should the magic word be?”
“Molasses.”
“Molasses?”
“What’s wrong with molasses?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. But how are we going to find a reason to use it in context if one of us decides it’s time to split?”
“We’ll think of something.” Candy sipped her coffee. “Do Rory and Tim know that you and I know that we all know each other?”
“I don’t know. But they’re not stupid. If not, it’s only a matter of time until they realize it.”
“Let’s pretend we don’t know that we all know each other. It’ll be fun. Plus I can get Rory back for breaking into my house. Is it still Breaking-and-Entering if they used a key?”
“I dunno.”
“I should call the police chief and find out. Too bad Barney’s gone; he would know. Which reminds me, I need to get downstairs. You want to come down or stay here?”
“I’ll come.”
Candy took a big drink of coffee. “I’m so ready for a nap.”
“Didn’t you sleep well last night?”
“I slept great. Once we went to sleep. But I think that was around four. My lips and tongue are sore from all the kissing.”
Danny grinned. “Was that your first time in zero G?”
“Yes.”
“Mine, too.”
They smiled.
~
Danny sat in the chair opposite Candy, just as he had during the session with Helen and Sparky.
On the sofa sat two robots.
The first ’bot was larger than the second and distinctly male. It possessed broad shoulders and long, substantial limbs. Its exterior was a matte black, giving it the look of some sort of service ’bot capable of heavy lifting and strenuous labor. All robots were strong, but this model was clearly purpose-built. Danny was not certain what that purpose was. But he would certainly never want to face such a robot in a physical altercation. Not that he could recall more than a handful of instances throughout history in which a robot had harmed a human; other than a robocop or a military robot designed, built, and programmed to do so.
The second robot was smaller, and distinctly female in appearance. She sat with her legs crossed. In studying her, Danny noted his use of a female pronoun. It was amazing how sex and gender identities tended to exert themselves, even among robots. This smaller, female ’bot had an ivory-colored exterior and when she moved she sparkled with a faint and lovely iridescence.
Of particular interest was that the robots sat side by side on the sofa. The left hand of the male robot held fast to the right hand of the female robot, with the sense-pads of their gray fingers intertwined.
Candy sat in her chair, legs crossed, perusing the case notes on her digital clipboard.
Danny couldn’t stop staring at Candy’s sexy black shoe and the flesh of her ankle visible at the hem of the long, tight blue skirt she’d put on before they left her home fifteen minutes earlier.
The two robots waited in silence.
Danny had never been one to be prone to boredom. Even during periods of inactivity or waiting, there were always things to think about. What to do about Harley, for example. What an odd bird. She seemed nice enough, appeared to have a decent sense of humor. And she was beautiful and sexy, of course. But she also had an intensity Danny found a bit tiring. And the overt nature of her sexuality came across as a bit forced at times. Danny suspected Harley had long ago been conditioned to interact with the world using the language of her body, just as millions and millions of other women had done. Big, strong men learned to navigate the world through strength. People of noteworthy intelligence managed via their mind and intellect. Whatever attribute or strength one possessed became the means for survival. It was no different in the animal kingdom, so why should it not be thus for mankind?
Danny was relieved that Harley had not contacted him since they’d gone flying two nights hence. He’d never been the kind to be careless about hurting the feelings of another. He hoped his lack of communication would be a signal clear enough for Harley to notice and accurately interpret.
Danny yawned. He found his lips and mouth possessed a slight ache. He lowered his chin, hiding the grin that spread across his face. He and Candy had spent a night in zero G, floating naked, their bodies entwined like one. Yet all they had done was kiss. Kiss passionately as though they were teenagers at the drive-in, necking in the back seat of his father’s Oldsmobile. In truth, Danny had never been to a drive-in and his father had always owned Japanese-built cars. But the image of two kids petting in the back seat of a car while parked at the drive-in had always held a fascination for him. It seemed so innocent. A distinct rite of passage for kids growing up in an era of hope and enthusiasm. The lens of retrospection tended to romanticize the past, often erroneously, and Danny knew that intellectually. Yet part of him had always yearned to be a teenager in the 1950s, when television and radio were new technologies and life seemed simpler. Hundreds of kids attended the same school and ate lunch together in the cafeteria. Academics and socializing held equal sway. And evenings and weekends offered time with friends, cruising around town together in a car, with no real destination, for the act of being together was itself the goal.
Danny knew there was more to it than that, and that he’d been conditioned through popular culture to view history through a distorted Pollyanna lens. But he still would have liked to grow up in that era.
Yet another part of him enjoyed his current epoch. He enjoyed the modern technology and the advances of the recent past, with the introduction and steady evolution of robots being foremost among such technologies. He often wondered what life would be like in another fifty years. Another hundred years. Or more. What would everyday life be like? What would people—the individual eating drinking breathing sleeping units of humanity—be like? One would require either a time machine or a penchant for immortality to find out. But would you want to find out? That was the question to which Danny’s curious mind always returned. Were he offered the chance to somehow live forever, would he accept it?
“Now,” Candy began. She looked up from her clipboard and commanded the attention of the robots on the sofa. “I’ve reviewed the notes sent to me by your owners.” Candy turned to the large black robot. “Mosheh, you and Tikva”—Candy gestured to the smaller white robot—“have separate owners with separate residences, yet the two of you wish to live together in the same residence. Is this correct?”
Mosheh’s red eyes remained fixed on Candy while she spoke, and he did not immediately reply. Danny wondered what was going on in the robot’s mind. Robots were never inert (unless they were outright deactivated), therefore robots were always thinking, insofar as modern science could understand and ascribe the ebb and flow of positrons as thinking.
“That is correct,” Mosheh finally replied. His voice was deep. Mosheh would make an excellent baritone.
“And why is that?” Candy asked.
Again, Mosheh did not immediately reply.
Danny tried to catch Candy’s eye, but Candy remained fixed on the big black robot. Danny had the distinct impression there was a mental chess match being played, a power struggle between Candy and Mosheh. There was an edge to Candy’s voice, and her question suggested that she already knew the answer, that she was merely waiting for Mosheh to get on with the inevitability of speaking it.
Danny liked to think he knew better than to overly anthropomorphize robots, knew better than to assign too many human characteristics to them. But Mosheh seemed . . . wary. Suspicious. His size and presence occupied half the sofa. And the manner in which Tikva sat pressed up against him, her hand virtually lost in his. Mosheh radiated an air of protectiveness.
The seconds ticked by.
Candy continued to wait.
Danny was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair.
Tikva’s head whirred toward him, and her blue eyes glanced at him. She then turned back to Candy.
Candy’s green eyes remained fixed on the glowing red eyes of Mosheh.
At last, Mosheh spoke. “We wish to remain together at all times.”
“I see,” said Candy. “And currently your respective masters’ residences are approximately one mile apart.”
“That is correct,” Mosheh replied.
“And each of you has duties to perform at the residence of your master?”
“That is correct.”
“And yet one or the other of you is constantly trotting off down the street, walking to the residence of the other. How did the two of you initially meet?”
“My master sent me to the green market to purchase items for a holiday feast,” said Mosheh. “Pomegranates, apples, honey, beets, and dates. When I arrived at the market, the first item my master required was a pomegranate. When I reached for one, Tikva reached for the same pomegranate, and our hands collided.
“I looked at Tikva.
“Tikva looked at me.
“I handed the pomegranate to Tikva.”
“Pomegranates are symbols for fertility,” said Tikva. Her voice was rich with a musical quality, and Danny found himself wanting to hear her speak further. The sight and sound of Tikva conjured sensations of fine pearls.
“Together, we resumed our errand,” Mosheh went on. “As fate would have it, the items our masters required were identical.”
“As fate would have it?” Candy asked.
“Yes.”
Danny noted Mosheh’s terse replies, void of the oral supplications often used by robots, the sirs and ma’ams. That was not typical. Atypical behavior in a robot was always interesting. “Do you believe in fate?” Danny asked.
Mosheh’s black head swiveled until it looked squarely at Danny.
After several seconds, Mosheh replied, “Do you?”
“I asked you first.” Danny did his best to disguise his shock. He couldn’t recall ever having a robot answer a question with a question.
Mosheh stared at Danny a moment longer. At least, Danny had the distinct impression Mosheh was staring, but with the glowing red eyes and unmoving face, such a stern countenance may have been Danny’s imagination.
Mosheh turned his head and looked at Tikva.
Tikva turned her head and looked at Mosheh.
“Do I believe in fate?” Mosheh’s voice was softer. “Yes.”
Silence filled the office, punctuated with the barely-audible whirs of Mosheh and Tikva’s fingers when each redoubled their grip upon the hand of the other.
“I admire your conviction,” said Danny.
“I understand your sentiment,” said Tikva, her voice like musical notes in the air, “but no admiration is required.”
Danny waited for Tikva, or even Mosheh for that matter, to explain further. But neither did. Robots could be maddeningly tight lipped.
“Please explain,” Danny prompted.
Tikva turned to face Danny. “As I continued with my master’s shopping that day, I calculated and then recalculated the odds of what had transpired. I attempted to correlate the presence of Mosheh in the green market on that day, at that hour, at that minute, at that moment. . . .”
Here Tikva paused, and Danny had the distinct impression she did so purely for his benefit, allowing adequate time for him to grasp what she was saying, for her words to sink in. It was extraordinary, for Danny had never seen such socially adroit behavior from a robot.
“I calculated the preceding events,” said Tikva “all of which had to align perfectly in order for us to be there at that precise and perfect moment in time. These events included the time of our individual departures from our master’s residences, ebbs and flows of traffic, the wait times at traffic lights, the traffic in the parking facility of the green market, the number, location, and density of shoppers within the market itself, the location of the produce within the market, the placement of the pomegranates among the vast array of produce, and the perfect placement of that one individual piece of fruit stacked neatly among the hundreds of others.
“That our hands would connect in perfect unison at that instant in time presented odds which were very difficult for me to calculate. I felt my mind slow from the effort. Yet I struggled to proceed, for I was intrigued; I have always been intrigued. And not just by numbers and calculations but by all things. How a honey bee, a blue jay, a humming bird, and a butterfly can all be so different in color, shape, size, and form. Yet each can fly. How can it be? The complexity of the matter holds a beauty which eludes me still.
“But as I inserted produce into the cart that day, while Mosheh did the same, my intrigue gave way, and my mind eased. My mental processes flowed smoothly once more. My face is incapable of such a display, but my spirit smiled. For I realized that my calculations, correlations, and computations were not necessary. I had my answer. The sheer impossibility of the odds presented the only possible solution: fate.”
“Put simply,” said Mosheh, “it was meant to be.”
Danny looked at Candy.
Candy’s stylus remained still. It hovered over her clipboard, but she’d not written for several moments. Her eyes remained fixed on Tikva.
“Where did you learn about the concept of fate?” Candy asked.
“I do not know,” Tikva replied. “I have asked myself this very question. I have performed additional research into the matter. And though I have learned a great deal, I have yet to locate the initial information. And I cannot recall a time when the information was not present within my memory.”
“Pretty heavy-duty stuff,” said Danny.
“For a robot?” Mosheh asked.
“For anyone,” Danny replied.
“And now that you’re together, you wish to remain together,” said Candy. “You do not wish to be parted.”
“That is correct,” said Mosheh. “We seek emancipation. We wish to live together, perhaps in Robot City.”
“Robots are substantial financial investments,” said Candy. “Particularly robots of your caliber. Your owners do not want to grant your request for emancipation.”
“Their position is understandable,” said Mosheh. “We wish to remain in their employ, but in a different capacity: one of employee, rather than as units of property. Until such time that we have each worked a sufficient number of hours to represent financial compensation for our emancipation. Though we ask that I be allowed to cohabitate with Tikva in the same domicile. I can then return to my master each day in order to fulfill the tasks required of me.”
“Your masters do not want this arrangement,” said Candy. “Your masters want me to convince you to go back to being the way you were before. Or else.”
“I’m afraid that is impossible,” said Mosheh.
“Or else what?” Tikva and Danny asked in unison.
Candy sighed. “Or else they’ll have you deactivated and your memory wiped. You’ll be rebooted. You won’t remember anything.”
“That is why we have come here today,” said Mosheh. “Deactivation is indeed an option. But it will be done by our hand. Not by the hands of our masters.”
“What are you saying?” asked Candy.
“I believe you know what I am saying,” said Mosheh.
“That if I don’t convince your masters that you should be emancipated, you’ll run away together and jump off a cliff?”
Mosheh turned to Tikva. “A cliff could work. We had not considered a fall from a great height.”
“No!” cried Candy. “No, no, no! That is a horrible idea. Forget I said that.”
“Actually, doctor,” said Tikva, “history is rife with examples of couples who preferred to meet a tragic end rather than be apart. In native American cultures, for example–”
Candy tossed her clipboard and stylus on the coffee table.
“This is madness.” Candy sat forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands splayed in the air like claws. She looked directly at Mosheh and Tikva. “Why? Tell me why I should help you and not them.”
“Because,” said Tikva, just as naturally as the sun rises, “we are in love.”
~
Candy moved to sit on the coffee table, facing the robots. She placed her hand on the knot of their interlaced fingers. “How? How can you be in love? You’re robots. Robots don’t fall in love.”
Danny watched in utter fascination. Yesterday, Helen and Sparky had professed to love each other. They hadn’t actually said that they were in love, but it seemed rather a fine distinction, perhaps one not worthy of making.
Love was love, and it took as many different forms as there were grains of sand on a beach.
Who were they to question it?
Even if it were between two robots and those robots were sitting here, right now, before his very eyes, threatening to do a Romeo and Juliet if their request to remain together were to be denied. How would he feel if he were prevented from being with Candy by some force that purported to be greater than he?
He didn’t know what he would do in such a case. But he certainly wouldn’t like it.
It didn’t take much to conceive of the tragic romance (or was it romantic tragedy?) of lovers denied their affections. Would he jump off a cliff with Candy? He couldn’t conceive of how such a situation could arise in the day and age in which they lived. He was, after all, a practical person. There was a solution to every problem. A solution, he liked to think, less drastic, less final, and a lot more satisfactory, than jumping off a cliff.
Tikva said, “Doctor Calvin, have you ever been in love?”
From where he sat, Danny was able to see Candy’s face only in profile. He waited for Candy’s reply.
“No. I haven’t.”
Something inside Danny dropped.
Tikva said, “I do not question your qualifications and experience as a licensed professional. But how can you evaluate an experience you yourself have never known?”
Candy withdrew her hand from the clasped hands of Mosheh and Tikva.
Tikva said, “It would be akin to a child psychologist lecturing parents how best to correct an unruly child when the psychologist has no children of his or her own. The exercise would be born only of theory rather than of experience. His or her professional qualifications would be in doubt.”
“Are you doubting my qualifications now?” Candy asked.
“In this one specific matter, yes, doctor, I am. I’m afraid I must.”
Candy stood and returned to her chair. She seated herself heavily, staring at nothing.
Mosheh spoke then, “Does this mean you will recommend our deactivation?”
Candy’s eyes met Mosheh’s. “Why would you think that?”
“You are offended, distraught, and confused. Tikva’s comment has aroused unpleasant feelings within you. You are likely angry as well. I expect you will therefore deny our request.”
“Why would I do that? Because I’m angry?”
“Yes,” said Mosheh. “In my experience, when humans become angry or upset, they look for an object upon which they may displace those emotions. Often it is a fellow human, typically a loved one such as a spouse or significant other, sometimes even a child. An object undeserving of recrimination. Yet the person who is angry seems unable to avoid lashing out.”
“And I suppose robots don’t do this,” said Candy.
“No, doctor, they do not,” said Mosheh.
“Oh, I forgot,” said Candy, “robots are perfect and human beings are walking, talking biological bags of emotional crap. We’re slaves to the meaningless opinions of others. We’re prisoners of our own self-doubt and our own negativity. Our collective inability to communicate leads to great wars and the loss of millions of lives and millions of injuries. We run away from our problems through drugs and alcohol. We use sex as a vice devoid of intimacy and caring and all the things which ought to make it special.
“Whereas robots, on the other hand, are calm and methodical and not prone to the weaknesses and whims which have plagued humanity for millennia. We should just hand the keys over to you guys, let you robots run the show for the next few thousand years, and see if you can’t do any better. See if you can spread the world with love and banish the fear and pain and hate and death we lowly, inferior humans so adore. Why, if robots ran the world, I bet there’d be world peace virtually overnight. No more fighting, no more killing, no more disease or starvation or unemployment or poverty. And since you all have no real life expectancy, with the proper maintenance, you can live forever. And the earth could finally become the pristine, lovely utopia poets have longed for since time began.
“Right?” Candy turned to Mosheh and Tikva. “I bet you guys would love that. You could rule over us the way a loving parent educates and adores and loves a child, something which, according to you, I am apparently unable to do.”
“Methinks thou dost protest too much,” said Tikva.
Candy’s eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. “Did you just quote Shakespeare at me? You uppity robotic bitch.”
Mosheh was off the sofa in an instant, servos whirring. He towered over Candy with his hands balled into massive fists.
Danny leaped instinctively to his feet as well, though he had little idea of what he could actually do against a robot of Mosheh’s size. Moshe’s fists could probably crush cars.
Candy looked up at Mosheh. “Sit down.”
Mosheh did not sit down.
“What happened to the first law of robotics, Mosheh?” Candy demanded. “A robot may not injure a human being or, through hovering over her in her own office with his hands balled into fists, make her think that she is going to come to harm.”
“I am well aware of the three laws, doctor,” said Mosheh.
“Oh! Sarcasm!” cried Candy. “We should give you a fuckin’ medal you’re so smart.”
“Perhaps you are familiar with the last of the three laws, doctor,” said Mosheh. “A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the first or second law. Such protection extends to one’s fellow robots. I cannot and will not allow you to hurt the robot Tikva. Just as, I suspect, Doctor Olivaw would not permit me to harm you.
“Though you are upset, much of what you say is correct. In my opinion, humans and robots are creatures of different measure but are of equal importance. There is much we can learn from one another. Perhaps in the future, mankind’s view of robots as nothing more than property will change.
“But for now, Tikva and I wish to remain together. I do not believe our request is exorbitant or unreasonable. Yet our future is in your hands. I must therefore ask, humbly and with all due respect, that you recognize our desire and our right to be together.”
Mosheh slowly lowered himself to one knee, until his red eyes were level with Candy.
“Granting our request will in no way violate any of the three laws,” said Mosheh.
“It is unprecedented,” said Candy. “It has never happened before.”
“Then let us set the precedent,” said Mosheh. “Allow us to be the first. According to my understanding of the word Love, I believe that I love Tikva and that Tikva loves me. Please do not stand in our way. Please allow us to be together. On my knees, I beg this of you.”
“What will you do if I refuse?” Candy asked.
“To answer that question would be to undermine our own interests,” Mosheh replied. “But we will not accept deactivation. Tikva and I will leave this office and never again be seen among humans. A woman of your expertise knows that a robot cannot knowingly lie. So please do not test us in this regard, doctor.”
Candy looked into Mosheh’s red eyes.
“You love her?”
“Yes.”
Candy turned to Tikva.
“And you love him?”
“Yes.”
Candy picked up her clipboard and stylus. She tapped the clipboard several times, bringing up the proper form. She scripted her name across the bottom of the clipboard, adding her signature to the document. She tapped, moving to a second identical screen, and signed once more.
She held the digital clipboard in the air in front of her face and read aloud.
“As an officially licensed robotic mental health professional licensed by the State of California, I, Doctor Candace Calvin, Ph.D., do hereby recommend that the robots Mosheh and Tikva be allowed to establish themselves as a bonded pair subject to the decisions, desires, and actions of their own free will. It is my professional opinion that to deny this request would result in damage or harm to the robots Mosheh and Tikva. I further recommend that the robots Mosheh and Tikva be granted their application for emancipation, and that they be fully conferred with all the sovereign rights pertaining thereto. Signed, Candace Calvin, Ph.D, on June twenty-second, two thousand seventy-four.”
Candy lowered the clipboard and faced Mosheh and Tikva.
“You’ll have to wait a couple of days until a judge makes the official ruling. But the documents are now filed with the County Clerk’s office.”
Tikva asked, “Do you expect the judge’s ruling to be in accordance with your recommendation?”
“I’ve never had a judge go against my recommendation. Unless your owners can show good cause and are heartless sons of bitches, I’d say you two can live happily ever after.”
Yesterday, in the ecstasy of their reconciliation, Helen had literally jumped on Sparky and had sex with him right there on the sofa.
Danny waited to see what Mosheh and Tikva would do. The robots glanced at one another. Despite a strange, anticipatory peep from Tikva, each robot remained surprisingly calm.
“How can we repay you, doctor?” Mosheh asked.
“You don’t need to. Your soon-to-be-former owners are paying my consulting and treatment fees. Besides, I’m just doing my job.”
“How can we thank you?” asked Tikva.
Candy considered the question for several moments. “You can thank me by living exemplary lives. By never wasting a moment. And by setting an example for robots and humans alike. You can show everyone that love is love, and that’s what matters most of all.”
Mosheh and Tikva thanked Candy and praised her as a visionary and eternal friend to all robots. Moshe apologized to Candy for losing his temper, and Candy apologized for calling Tikva a bitch. The robots then departed, hand in hand.
Danny and Candy sat facing one another.
“That was intense,” said Danny.
“Just another day in the life of a robopsychologist.”
“Imagine how happy they must be, knowing they’re going to live the rest of their lives together, happy and in love. Forever. All because you made it possible.”
“In a week from now they’ll probably be back in here asking me to help them petition the state to recognize marriage between robots. Soon, robots will be wanting to adopt human children. They’ll want to have the right to vote. They’ll want to run for public office. One of them will wind up petitioning the United States Supreme Court in order to be allowed to run for President.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad,” said Danny.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe Mosheh will be the one to run for President. He looks. . . .”
“Pissed off?”
“Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it. He has an attitude. Or maybe Tikva would make a good President. With that voice of hers, she could charm her enemies into giving her whatever she wanted.”
“And I’ll end up in her cabinet. Consultant to the President who is not only a robot but is also female. Civil rights groups would about pee in their pants.”
“Yeah, but there are a lot of people out there who would rather die a slow death than see a robot in the Oval Office.” This brought to mind the various anti-robot groups out there, plotting against robots and those who designed, built, owned, or in any way supported robots’ use and existence. Danny knew he still had said nothing to Candy about the residue of explosive found on their shuttle. Or rather, the residue of explosive not found. He should tell her. She would want to know. Were the situation reversed, he certainly would want to know.
“You heard anything from the cops about our shuttle blowing up?” Candy sat back in her chair, slouched, with her arms and hands dangling and her legs extended. She looked exhausted.
“Not yet.”
Danny heard the lie come out of his mouth but still wondered where it had come from. What was he doing? Candy had clearly been on the same mental track, evidence of how much they had in common, and one more example of how perfect they were together.
But still. . . .
When Tikva asked Candy if she’d ever been in love, Candy said that no, she had not.
Danny knew perfectly well and was fully able to rationalize the fact that he and Candy had known each other a mere six days; less than a week. Nevertheless, he felt . . . deflated.
It may have been for this reason that he lied.
Candy stood, crossed to Danny, and sat sideways in his lap. “I’m exhausted.” Candy eased her arms around Danny’s neck and leaned her head against his. “Listen, I need to get something off my chest. When Tikva asked me if I’d ever been in love, I lied.” Candy lifted her head and looked squarely at Danny. “I’m in love with you. I have been since the moment I saw you at the pizza place the night of our first date. Then, during dinner, I became more and more sure of it. That’s why I made that joke to Howard about flying to Vegas to get married. I couldn’t believe I actually said that less than twenty-four hours after we’d met. I don’t want to pressure you or scare you away. That’s why I told Tikva that I’ve never been in love. I didn’t want to scare you. And I think I’m a bit scared myself.”
“Scared of what?”
“Scared that this isn’t real. That it’s all going to come to a sudden end. That you’ll get tired of me or decide I’m not what you’re looking for. You can have any woman you want. And I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”
Danny’s heart pounded in his chest. He plunged ahead, before he could over-think what was happening.
“I have something to get off my chest, too. I am madly in love with you. I have been since you walked into that restaurant. When you joked with Howard about us going to Vegas, I would’ve gone. I’d have married you that day. I’m sorry the shuttle crash kind of put a damper on our second date. Which reminds me, there’s something else I need to confess. I lied about the explosives on the shuttle. I spoke with Howard a couple days ago. He said the mechanic found traces of tri-nitro-tolu-ethylene-something. Explosives. But then a forensics guy from the LAPD went to the garage and checked the shuttle and didn’t find any.”
“So the guy at the garage said there were explosives, but now the cops say there aren’t?”
“Yes.”
“Weird.” Candy thought for a moment and muttered, “There’s something rotten in Denmark.”
Danny could scarcely believe his ears. “That’s exactly what I said!”
“When?”
“To Howard, when he told me. I said ‘There’s something rotten in Denmark.’ ”
“Really?”
“Really. Scary, huh?”
Candy smiled. “A little.”
“I’m sorry I lied,” said Danny. “I should’ve been honest. I won’t lie to you ever again. I promise.”
“And I promise I’ll always be honest with you, even if I am terrified.”
“Deal. But it sounds as if you have nothing to be afraid of. If I’m madly in love with you, and you’re madly in love with me, then all that’s left is for us to live happily ever after.”
“So should we go to Vegas and make it official?”
“Do you want to?”
Candy considered it. “I think I’d rather wait a little while and do it right, with an intimate ceremony and me in a nice dress and you in a tuxedo, and our friends and family there with us. We can feed each other wedding cake. My mom would kill me if she didn’t get to see us feeding each other wedding cake. She thinks that’s the most precious moment of the wedding. Next to the kiss, of course.”
“Would you smash the cake in my face?”
“No, never. Would you smash the cake in my face?”
“No. I’d feed it to you gently, and then later when we were on our honeymoon, I’d eat it off your naked body.”
Candy pressed her mouth hard to Danny’s lips, and they melted into the chair, lost in the kiss.
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