If you’ve just discovered this, begin with Chapter 1 HERE.
New chapters every Saturday morning @ 9:09 a.m. EST. Yay!
Danny paced around the bedroom.
He stopped and looked out the window.
Down on the beach, the party was underway. Danny estimated approximately fifty people on the beach, and more were arriving as he watched.
The sun would set within the hour. Maggie’s impressive dinner buffet was nearly assembled. Nik and Tim were lighting the chafing dishes. Two robotic bartenders were busy preparing cocktails at dizzying speed. The appetizers table had been hit hard and more guests were finding their way toward it with fresh drinks in hand. Danny counted fifteen round tables with ten chairs each. The tables were set with white linen and fine silver, and each table boasted an impressive centerpiece pulsing with red, white, and blue lights. Maggie and Tim had certainly gone all out.
Danny spotted Candy near the appetizer table. Harley stood beside her. Candy was motioning with her hand, gliding it through the air. Harley then did the same, rolling her hand inverted. Clearly they were discussing their rides in the Viper Jet, comparing notes. That wasn’t good. But they were laughing and smiling. They seemed to be having a good time.
Hertz and Volta meandered among the tables, saying hello by brushing against people.
As Danny watched, Susannah arrived. She and Candy hugged, then Candy introduced her to Harley, and they shook hands.
Danny glanced over his shoulder at his suitcase. The ring box was inside it. He pulled at his hair with both fists. He looked out the window at Candy. He’d mostly avoided her since returning from the boat with Tim and Rory. Candy had kissed him several times. He’d been acutely aware of the softness of her lips against his, of her tongue in his mouth. Had it felt different? Her lips felt more or less the same. Didn’t they?
Danny looked once more at the suitcase.
He faced the window again. Harley had her hands on her breasts, shifting them slightly. Candy then did the same to her own breasts. Then Susannah did the same. They were getting on well.
Moments later, Rory arrived with Floyd and Howard in tow. Rory made the introductions. Harley gave Howard a high-five. Floyd and Susannah shook hands at length, smiling all the while.
Everyone in Danny’s party had arrived. He would have to join them soon.
Harley began speaking with Howard, and Danny realized many guests had brought their robots to the party. The day had finally come when robots were as ubiquitous as mobile telephones.
Tim arrived with four additional guests. At first, they appeared to be robots, but something about them was different, the way they walked and moved, the pallor of their skin in the late afternoon light, for two of them were shirtless. The third had four arms, and the fourth was quite tall and his arms were massive. All four bore the easy fluidity of human beings, but their eyes glowed bright red. Then Danny recognized them: the Red Hot Cyborg Players, from Club C/Fe.
Judging by the way Tim was making the introductions, he seemed to know them. It was then that Danny saw a stage being set up on one side of the beach. A broad patch of sand hand been left open for dancing.
Danny cast his eyes once more to Candy.
Rory asked her something. She shook her head and motioned to the window. All eyes turned toward Danny.
Candy waved.
Danny waved back.
Rory beckoned with his arm.
Danny glanced at his suitcase. Then he looked out the window.
Down on the beach, Canary Cherrolet arrived with a tall blonde on his arm.
Danny again considered his suitcase and the ring inside it. Was he really going to propose to a robot in front of the very people who had created her? Were Tim and Rory telling the truth? Was Candy truly a robot? How could he find out for certain? If he cut her, would she bleed red? Did she have a secret button behind her ear? Clearly he could not simply ask her—it.
He was so confused.
He grabbed the ring box from within his suitcase and went downstairs.
~
Dinner was a rousing success.
The buffet was finer than any Danny had ever seen. Gali, Copper, and Turing acted as servers tending the buffet while Isaac and Nik replenished the line with new chafing dishes from the kitchen as needed.
As Danny and Candy proceeded through the buffet, he heard other guests raving about the food as well.
Danny was formally introduced to Canary Cherrolet and his companion, Laura, who was one of the most feared prosecutors in all of southern California. Laura shook Danny’s hand with a firm grip, nodded her head toward Candy, and said, “My compliments on your choice of company.”
Danny looked at Candy, who seemed to be blushing, and then at Canary. Canary winked and went on smiling the perfect, gleaming smile for which he was well known.
Danny and Candy took their plates and sat with Rory and Harley, Canary and Laura, and Floyd and Susannah. Harley invited Howard to join them, and Howard sat beside Harley with much thanks.
The band sat a nearby table. They were accompanied by eight women despite the table having been set for ten. The singer, Blackie, had a female to his left and right. Whitey sat beside a woman Danny had heard introduced as Whitey’s daughter, Clara. VanCat held two knives and two forks, and his four arms and hands worked in unison, allowing him to eat simultaneously from two plates of food. Kong was flanked by two women who took turns feeding him bites of food while he leaned back in his seat with his massive arms around the ladies.
Watching the band made Danny wonder if he and Candy would be forced to dance, despite their agreement to the contrary.
“Quite a piece of work, isn’t it?” Canary asked. “Dare I even call it a piece of art.”
Danny returned his attention to the table. “Who?”
“Howard, of course,” said Canary. “First of his kind, you know. I’m quite proud of it.” Canary cut a large morsel of steak and forked it into his mouth. He turned directly to Howard. “I’m quite proud of you, Howard.”
“And I of you, sir,” Howard replied.
“You see that?” said Canary. “Not every robot has the wherewithal to be proud of something, particularly those who created it.” Canary turned to Floyd. “How’s the unit working out for you?”
Floyd and Susannah sat huddled close, looking into one another’s eyes and taking turns feeding each other tidbits of food with their fingers.
Danny shared a look with Candy; their inclination to introduce Floyd and Susannah had been a good one.
Floyd inserted a cherry tomato into Susannah’s mouth with slow, delicate precision. “He’s working out . . . perfectly.” Floyd at last turned to Canary, and then to Howard. “In fact, I am proud to count Howard as one of my best friends.”
“Human-robot friendships are nothing new,” said Harley. “From what Dr. Calvin has told me, based on her own clientele, it may one day be the norm. Isn’t that right, doctor?”
“That’s right,” said Candy. “And I for one am all for it. This is the land of the free, after all.” She turned to Danny. “Right?”
Danny swallowed hard. “Right.”
Candy leaned in and kissed Danny’s lips. Did her lips feel different? Surely it was his imagination.
“I understand the three of you had an unscheduled pit stop in the Salton Sea recently,” said Canary.
“Under it is more like it,” said Candy.
“Of course,” said Canary. He turned to Laura. “Their shuttle malfunctioned. Howard had to skip that sucker off the surface like a stone. Isn’t that right, Howard?”
“Your witticism is indeed accurate, sir,” said Howard.
“My witticism he says,” Canary laughed.
“I saw it on the news,” said Laura. “Have they determined the cause?”
Danny turned to Howard and found Howard’s red eyes studying him. Before Danny could reply, Howard said, “The investigation is ongoing. It would not serve to speculate.”
Harley began coughing. Rory handed her his glass of water and patted her on the back.
“Quite right, Howard,” said Canary. “Leave the matter to the professionals. I understand you did some mighty fancy flying. I don’t know if you are in need of a job, but how would you like to come work for me, as one of my personal pilots? I’d be lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, sir. I enjoy being in the air very much and would relish the opportunity.”
“You hear that?” Canary asked. “He’d relish the opportunity. Ha ha!” Canary turned to Floyd. “What do you say, Floyd? Can I steal your robot away for a few days a week?”
One of Floyd’s fingers was in Susannah’s mouth, and neither was aware of anything going on around them.
Canary went on, “I’ve heard of Lady Fingers but this is something new.”
Floyd and Susannah remained lost in one other.
“Never mind them,” said Canary. “How much flight time do you have, Howard?”
“One thousand four hundred fifty-three-point-seven hours,” said Howard, “including my stick time with Master Danny in his Viper Jet.”
Harley turned to Danny. “You let him fly it? I didn’t get to fly it.” She turned to Candy. “Did you get to fly it?”
“No,” said Candy.
“How come Howard got to fly it and we didn’t?” Harley asked.
“Because Howard is a licensed pilot. And because he was on the stick when those Navy boys showed up and invited us to participate in their cute little live-fire exercise.”
“Live fire?” asked Rory.
“Well, you know, it was just a few hundred rounds and a couple of surface-to-air missiles. Nothing Howard couldn’t handle.”
“First a crash landing in the Salton Sea and then live bullets and missiles?” Canary asked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone is trying to kill you.”
Harley coughed while taking a drink of her cocktail, and the brown liquid shot out of her mouth and nostrils. “Captain and Coke,” she said, wiping her nose. “That burns.”
“What do you say, Howard?” Canary asked. “One of my two pilots has decided to retire next month after my annual trip to Monte Carlo for the Grand Prix. You could come with us. Four weeks should be adequate for a being of your intelligence to learn the systems and procedures.”
“What type of aircraft is it, sir?” Howard asked.
“You hear that?” Canary laughed. “He wants to know the type of aircraft. Quite the discerning creature, this one. It’s a Gulfstream Nine, Howard. A G-Nine-Fifty. Do you know this particular aircraft?”
“Certainly, sir. I read about it recently in Plane and Pilot. Service ceiling of sixty thousand feet, maximum cruise of one-point-five Mach, and a range of eleven thousand miles with the new Honeywell Merlin-Five engines.”
“Which means I can go from Los Angeles to Monte Carlo without stopping for gas,” said Canary. “I also have a G-Two-Eighty-Eight, my first airplane, which is a hopped-up Two-Eighty. She’s smaller and faster but has less range. You’d be flying both aircraft, of course, depending upon the mission. If it’s a domestic, romantic deployment and we’re skipping over to Manhattan for dinner, we take the Eighty-Eight. But if we’re partying in Monte Carlo, or Cannes, or Herzliya, we’ll need the Big Bird.”
“I would be delighted to accept your proposal,” said Howard.
“Very good,” said Canary. “Talk it over with Master Floyd when he is . . . available,”–Floyd and Susannah were feeding one another juicy morsels of pineapple, and remained oblivious to the conversation– “and get back to me.”
“Very good, sir.”
Canary turned to Rory. “How are we coming on the new foresight protocol?”
Danny was soon lost by the technical complexity of Rory’s response when he felt Candy’s hand slide into his lap and caress his penis through his shorts. Her lips nuzzled his ear and her hot breath sent a warm chill through him when she spoke softly, “Speaking of proposals, there’s a rumor going around that you’re going to propose to me tonight.”
The warm chill turned to a cold one. “Oh really?”
“It’s just something I heard.” Candy smiled and focused her attention on her food. But her hand remained in Danny’s lap.
Danny shifted the ring box in his pocket, away from Candy’s hand and his burgeoning erection. What was he going to do? Propose to a robot? If she were a robot, did that make her less real? After all, he was a professional roboticist and he’d taken Candy for a human being. Why should his feelings change?
But still. . . .
Something was different. He had to know. He couldn’t make a decision until he knew for certain.
Maggie appeared at their table and took the empty seat beside Candy.
“How is everything?” Maggie asked.
“Wonderful!” “Excellent!” and “Exquisite!” were the replies.
Maggie smiled and sipped from the glass of white wine in her hand.
“Pardon me.” All eyes turned toward Howard, for it was he who had spoken.
“Yes, Howard?” Floyd replied. Floyd had extricated himself from Susannah, though their hands and fingers remained entwined. Danny could not recall having seen Floyd be so amorous with a woman. In fact, Floyd hadn’t had more than a few dates with any one partner during the entire year for which he’d lived in Danny’s house. Clearly his connection with Susannah was something greater.
“I have a question for Mistress Maggie,” said Howard, “if she does not mind.”
“Not at all, Howard,” said Maggie. “What would you like to know?”
The evening sun cast Howard in a golden light, and his pewter face gleamed. “I heard one of your guests state that you had prepared this food yourself, despite the large quantity. And that any sane person would have sought the assistance of a catering company. Is that correct? Did you prepare the food yourself?”
“Yes, Howard, I did. I’ve been cooking for the past three days.”
“May I ask why? Are you not sane?”
Maggie laughed.
“Extraordinary,” Canary marveled.
“I suppose that after raising five kids my sanity is debatable, Howard,” said Maggie, “though I wouldn’t say it’s related to my choosing to do the cooking myself.”
“And why not?” asked Howard.
“Because I love to cook,” said Maggie.
“Even in such large quantities and for so many people?” Howard asked. With one upturned hand he made an elegant gesture, referencing all fifteen tables and the bevy of guests enjoying their meal. Isaac and Nik were restocking the buffet while Gali, Copper, and Turing served the guests returning for a second helping; despite the rigorous pace, the kids seemed to be enjoying their hosting duties.
“Sure,” said Maggie. She smiled as she watched her children work.
“Would the use of a catering service not be easier?”
“Of course it would.”
“Then why not–”
“You tell me Howard,” said Maggie.
Danny saw the tiniest flicker in Howard’s bright red eyes. He was struggling to formulate a response.
“May I give you a hint, Howard?” All eyes turned to Candy. “I hate to see a robot in distress. Particularly a robot to whom I owe my life.” Candy gazed across the table at Howard. “It’s a matter of pride, Howard. Tim and Maggie could’ve called any of a dozen excellent caterers. But Maggie wanted to do the cooking herself. And the kids were looking forward to running the buffet.”
“It is a sizable task,” said Howard.
“That is precisely the point,” said Candy. “There is great satisfaction to be found in taking on a sizable task and then working hard to accomplish it.”
“I see,” said Howard. “It is not unlike learning to fly Master Cherrolet’s jet,” said Howard.
“Exactly,” said Candy. “Operating such a machine is a large responsibility presenting an endless series of tasks requiring sound judgment and keen reflexes. It’s a lot of work, and yet you would enjoy flying it.”
“With Master Floyd’s permission, I would indeed.”
“That’s a brilliant correlation, Howard,” said Canary, “just brilliant.”
“Making correlations is the highest form of learning,” said Howard.
Canary laughed out loud. “Marvelous. Simply marvelous. You won’t find a more spectacular robot anywhere. Not even in Japan. I’m quite sure of it.”
“What about the new pleasurebots Danny and I discovered at Mechanical Man last week?” Candy asked. “They were so real I didn’t know if I should be turned on or terrified.”
“Amen,” Danny added.
“They’re part of my new line,” said Canary. “Designed to look, sound, and feel real. But they’re designed for one thing and one thing only.” Canary glanced at Laura and winked. “They’re good but they’re nothing compared to Howard here.”
“So why not combine the two?” Danny asked. “Why not take a robot with Howard’s logic and intelligence and capabilities and give it the appearance of a pleasurebot? The pleasurebots we saw looked a bit like Candy. Long hair, long legs, and big . . . eyes. In fact, how do we know Candy isn’t such a robot? She looks realistic. She eats, she sleeps, she knows how to use a knife and fork.” Danny put one arm around Candy and covered her hands with his as she cut a piece of chicken. “It’s quite impressive, actually,” Danny went on.
“What are you doing?” Candy asked.
But Danny continued, “She even does it the logical way, cutting with the knife in her right hand and eating with the fork in her left hand, like they do it in France.”
“Danny, let go,” said Candy.
But Danny did not let go. “It really is impressive.”
“Danny, stop it,” said Harley.
“Perfect hand-eye coordination,” said Danny. “She never slips, never cuts herself by mistake.”
Danny raked the serrated knife blade across Candy’s left index finger.
Candy cried out. Danny withdrew his hands. Bright red blood ran from Candy’s finger and dripped onto the white dinner plate.
“I’m sorry,” said Danny.
“What the fuck?” Candy shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Danny repeated.
Guests at several nearby tables stopped eating and turned to look.
“An awkward slip,” said Maggie. “Here, come with me and we’ll get it patched up.” Maggie stood and held a napkin to Candy’s finger. The starched white linen quickly turned red.
Maggie and Candy were turning to go when Maggie leaned close to Danny’s ear. “Nobody said love’s perfect.” She led Candy away.
Danny looked across the table at Rory.
“I’m going to get some more food,” said Rory. He stood and left the table.
“Not to worry,” said Canary, “she’s in good hands.”
Danny nodded lamely, then stood and walked across the sand to the bar. He asked for three beers, dropped a five-dollar bill into the robot bartenders’ tip jar, and then walked over to the buffet, where Isaac and Nik stood together looking at the ocean. Danny handed each of them a cold beer. “You got any more of that weed?”
“I dunno, man,” said Nik. “My parents find out I’m dealing and they’ll beat me to death with my surfboard.”
Danny took another gulp from his beer. “So don’t tell ’em.”
“Dude, my mom knows everything that goes on around here.”
“That’s true,” said Isaac. “Once, during my junior year of high school, me and the guys flew to Fort Lauderdale for spring break and I hooked up with this naughty little honey from Yale. When I got home, my mom not only knew I’d hooked up with a college girl, she even knew her name. She’s like the Secret Service.”
“Or the N.S.A.,” said Nik.
“Or the C.I.A.”
“The F.B.I.”
“The I.R.S.”
“Now those guys are scary,” Nik agreed.
“So how much for an eighth?” Danny asked.
“An eighth of what?” asked Nik.
“Of the best you’ve got.”
Nik turned to Isaac.
Isaac shrugged. “He’s a big boy. Besides, it’s his funeral.”
“Unless mom finds out. Then it’s my funeral. I start college in a month. I’d kind of like to live long enough to meet some naughty little co-ed honeys of my own.”
“She’s not going to find out,” said Danny. “Besides, if anyone asks, I didn’t get it from you. I got it from a guy downtown.”
“Got what?”
Danny, Isaac, and Nik turned to see Blackie, Whitey, VanCat, and Kong approaching. It was Blackie who had spoken. “Hope we’re not intruding.”
“We saw you guys checking the surf,” said Whitey. “Looks like a good break.”
“It’s coming in,” said Isaac. “Our dad’s been surfing here since he was a kid.”
“That’s cool,” said VanCat. Two of his hands were in the back pockets of his jeans. His other two hands rested in his front pockets.
“What’s it like having four hands?” Nik asked.
“Chicks dig it,” said Kong.
VanCat grinned sheepishly. “It has its advantages. Besides, you’re the one to talk.” He turned back to Danny, Isaac, and Nik. “His arms aren’t the only thing he had enhanced.”
“Damn straight,” said Kong.
Whitey pointed to the skin tape covering the stitches on Danny’s forearm. “What happened?”
“Knife fight.”
“Seriously?” asked Nik.
Danny nodded. “Candy and I were on a date in Robot City. Some asshole tried to rob us.”
“Did you give him your money?” Isaac asked.
Danny sipped from his beer. “No, I gave him a knuckle sandwich.”
“I’m glad to see chivalry is alive and well,” said Blackie.
Danny turned to Nik. “So how much?”
Nik sighed. “A hundred.”
“You have it here?”
“Not stuffed down the front of my pants. But yes, it’s upstairs.”
Danny turned to Blackie. “Feel like partying?”
“Oh no. I’ve done my time under the bridge. Back in the nineteen eighties, they used to tell kids to get high on life. I didn’t listen, of course. That choice has cost me dearly. But after all these years, after kicking more times than I care to count, I finally understand what they meant.”
“So now it’s all about the music,” said Whitey.
“Listen,” said Blackie, “I don’t mean to intrude but what was that scene at dinner about?”
“You saw that?” Danny asked.
“Everybody did,” said VanCat. “The bloody napkin was hard to miss.”
“You trying to cut off your old lady’s finger or what?” asked Kong.
“She’s not my old lady,” said Danny.
“Maybe not officially,” said Kong.
“But it’s pretty obvious that you and she are in love,” said Whitey.
“With a healthy dose of lust,” added Blackie. “In fact, there’s a rumor going around that you’re going to propose tonight.”
“Jesus Christ, does everyone know?”
“Good news travels fast,” said Whitey.
Blackie continued, “So during dinner we wrote a pretty little ditty just for you. It’s called Fireworks.”
“How the hell did you guys write a song during dinner?” Danny asked.
“Well, for the past three days, I’ve been humming this melody,” said Blackie, “but I didn’t know what it was. Then, when we arrived at Tim and Maggie’s and I saw the ocean and the sunset and all these wonderful people here to celebrate Independence Day, lyrics started to come. I started singing to myself during dinner. Whitey started slapping, K-man started drumming, and Van started strumming. A few minutes later, we had it.”
“Some of the greatest songs of all time were written in ten to fifteen minutes,” said Whitey.
“Usually in the back of a tour bus or in a hotel room,” said Kong.
“Or in bed,” added Blackie.
“Places where musicians spend a large amount of time,” said VanCat.
“We’re going to record Fireworks tonight during the show,” said Blackie.
“Did Tim and Maggie hire you for this?” Danny asked.
“Oh no,” replied Blackie.
“Tim oversaw the design and installation of our robotics,” said Whitey. “It all started as a gimmick for an album cover. But when Tim said he could turn us into real cyborgs, we decided to go for it.”
“What’s it like?” asked Nik.
“The real heavy metal involved some delicate surgery,” said Blackie. “I had twelve operations over the course of about nine months. Whitey had twelve. Kong had eleven. And Van had fourteen.”
“But what’s it feel like?” asked Nik. “To have all that metal in you?”
“Your dad explained it like this twenty years ago,” said Whitey. “It’s still you, but now there’s more. More sight. More sound. More sensation. More emotion.”
“More emotion?” asked Danny. “That sounds tough. Like being eighteen all over again.”
“Yes,” said Blackie, “but how alive were you when you were eighteen?”
“That’s true,” said Danny. “But there’s a lot to be said for middle age and the wisdom which comes with it.”
“That is also true,” said Blackie. “Imagine the combination of the two, and you’ll have a sense of what cybourgeoisie feels like.”
“Cybourgeoisie?” Danny asked.
“That was the name of the album we released when we got our metal,” said Whitey.
“See, I was born in nineteen sixty-two,” said Blackie. “So chronologically I’m eighty-five. But biologically I’m in my early forties, and I feel like I’m still in my twenties.”
“We’ve known Tim and Maggie for years,” said Whitey. “They’re really excited about your engagement to Candy.”
“We’re dedicating our song Fireworks to the two of you,” said Blackie.
Danny sipped his beer. “Don’t go dedicating anything just yet. There’s a few things I need to work out first.”
“It looked like you had everything worked out last night on the beach,” said Nik.
“Busted!” said Kong, and everybody laughed.
“So do you have the ring?” asked Whitey.
“Right here in my pocket.”
“May we see it?” asked Blackie.
Danny withdrew the ring box and opened it. The guys all leaned in.
Kong whistled in appreciation.
“One-and-a-half carats?” Whitey asked.
“One-point-six-seven,” replied Danny.
“You aren’t messing around, are you?” said VanCat.
“What do you mean?”
“Anybody who gets his girl a ring like that is obviously in love,” said Kong.
“Exactly,” said VanCat.
“You scared?” asked Whitey.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“With a woman like that?” said Whitey. “Hell no.”
“I’m not scared,” said Danny, “I’m . . . confused.”
“She’s totally into you,” said Nik. “And she’s hot as shit.”
The other guys nodded and vocalized their agreement.
Danny sighed. Somewhere upstairs Maggie was likely gluing Candy’s finger shut. Had he expected white biodraulic fluid to squirt out of her finger? “I dunno, man.”
“If you don’t want her, I’ll take her,” said Isaac.
“Me too,” said Nik.
“Me too,” said Blackie.
“Me too,” said Whitey.
“Me three,” said Kong.
“Me four,” said VanCat. He wiggled all four hands in the air. Everyone laughed.
“Look,” said Blackie, “there are no guarantees in life. No one knows what’s going to happen next. Everybody makes mistakes. That’s part of life. But it seems clear to all of us standing together in this circle that the true mistake would be letting that pretty young filly get away.”
The guys all nodded and expressed their agreement.
“But ultimately the decision is yours,” said Blackie. “Whichever choice you make will be yours to live with.” Blackie turned and surveyed the stage, which looked to be nearly ready. “Come on, guys. Sound check.”
Blackie, Whitey, Kong, and VanCat headed for the stage. Whitey turned and called back, “You can do it on stage if you like.” He smiled his signature diastemic grin.
Isaac and Nik returned to their buffet duties.
Danny stood alone on the beach with a beer in his hand and a ring in his pocket.
~
The next couple of hours passed slowly.
Dinner concluded and everyone mingled, waiting for darkness to fall and for the concert and the fireworks to begin.
Candy emerged from the house and found Danny. The cut on her finger was sealed with antiseptic glue and covered with a small strip of transparent skin tape. Candy smiled but offered no kisses, and soon she was involved in a conversation with Harley.
Danny found himself alone at the bar with another beer in his hand. The two robot bartenders were master mixologists but lousy at conversation, despite it being one of a bartender’s principal responsibilities. After a few stalled attempts, Danny gave up and went back to people watching.
Isaac, Nik, and the girls were helping Tim and Maggie tear down the buffet.
Blackie and the guys were hanging around next to the stage, once more surrounded by females.
“Man, I should’ve been a musician.”
Danny found Rory leaning on the bar beside him. “A musician? Why, are you musically inclined?”
“You bet your ass. You ever heard of The Doors?”
“Sure.”
“When I was a kid, I had a guitar with their picture on it. I taught myself to play it and by the time I was fourteen, I was writing songs. My dad played golf with a guy named Tex who was a bigwig at a record company. He liked my music and wanted to send me to the California Guitar Institute. He said if I graduated, he would sign me to his label. I had a successful career in music just waiting for me.” Rory fell silent. He watched Blackie and a very tall redhead making out heavily on the side of the stage.
“So what happened?”
“I turned it down. I wanted a stable life and a family, something I never had because my parents were so fucked up. Did you know that my mom and dad were married and divorced three times? Three times! And I don’t mean they each got married three times. They married and divorced each other three times. They couldn’t live with each other and couldn’t live without each other.”
“So you went into robotics?”
“I played little league with a kid whose dad was a roboticist. He was the coach of our baseball team and I really thought he had it all together. You know, we almost made it to the Little League World Series. We lost our last game after a bogus call. Turned out the ump was banging the sister of the other team’s coach. So we were the ones who got screwed. Years later, my mom got really loaded at a Memorial Day barbecue and told me that our coach was a gay crossdresser and his wife was a lesbian, and their marriage was one of convenience because they both wanted children. Turns out everybody’s got a secret.”
“What’s yours?”
“I just told you mine. I’m a divorced single dad who’s banging his boss’s granddaughter but is in love with a robot I can’t have, despite it being of my own creation.”
“Are you really in love with her?”
“Yes.” Rory sighed. “But I’ll get over it. She’s in love with you. Besides, Harley and I just did it in the upstairs bathroom. My penis hurts. I think I might be falling for her.”
Harley cast a quick glance at Rory. She smiled.
“She’s beautiful and sexy and smart,” said Rory. “Plus she’s a total tomboy. She rides motorcycles and drinks beer and watches football. What’s not to love?”
“You could do a lot worse.”
“So could you.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean Candy, numb-nuts.”
Danny took a long drink from his beer. “What the hell are you talking about? Not eight hours ago you said she is a robot and that it–you referred to her as ‘it’–needed to be deactivated. You were going to call Mr. C. and have the whole program shut down. You were going to turn her off like a light and I was going to . . . I don’t know what . . . start trolling for action at Robot Palace, I guess.”
“Ever been there?”
“Me? Hell no. Why, have you?”
“Lots of times.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it like in there?”
“It’s pretty fucked up.”
“When were you there?”
“A few years ago. After Melinda and I split up. I was into some dark shit there for a while.”
“What kind of dark shit?”
“Robots destroying humans. Some really fucked-up, old-world gladiator shit, but with a new futuristic twist. Sex, too. Lots of sex. Orgies. Robots gang-banging chicks. The works.”
“How can shit like that be allowed to go on?”
“Are you kidding? You wouldn’t believe me if I told you some of the people I saw there.”
“Really? Who?”
“Showbusiness people. Politicians. Foreign dignitaries. Heads of state. Presidential candidates . . . if you know what I mean. It’s like the coliseum has been born anew, swathed in neon and bright lights, and fitted with the latest robotic hardware money can buy. And then acted out on a stage covered with dirt to soak up all the blood. Just like the Romans did it thousands of years ago.”
“People don’t change, times change.”
“And the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“So what happened?” Danny asked. “What saved you?”
“I met Harley. She took over my division at work and within a week we were back at her place each night, going at it like animals.”
“So why aren’t you two married?”
“Harley’s not in any hurry. And I’ve been married. Marriage is great when it works. And when you work at it, it’s great. They say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. But the truth is that the grass is greener where you water it. That turned out not to be the case with Melinda, but most of the time it’s true. I think with Harley it could work. I dunno. Maybe someday Harls and I will tie the knot. We’ll see.”
Rory finished his beer and ordered a fresh one from the robot bartender.
“So what about you?” Rory asked. “I hear you’ve got a rock in your pocket. Or are you just happy to see me?”
“Who told you that?”
“Maggie.”
“Who told Maggie?”
“Tim.”
“Who told Tim?”
“You did, dumb ass.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Is it true?”
“No, it’s not true.”
“Bullshit. I can see the ring in your pocket.” Rory laughed. He smacked Danny on the back. “Relax. I’m just fucking with you. So, are you really going to lay that ice on Candy and pop the big question in front of all these people?”
“I don’t know.”
“I proposed to Melinda in front of her family. It was at a Christmas party at her folks’. I got down on my knee and asked her to be my wife. She was standing there with a mug of eggnog in her hand. The look on her face was like, Oh shit. I could see it in her eyes that she wanted to say no. But her family was there watching and waiting. I remember how quiet it was. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. She finally said yes just to end the torture. I figured she’d wait a day or two and then break it off. But she never did. On our wedding day, I was shocked that she actually showed up. When we said our vows, I finally relaxed. Never in a million years would I have guessed that we’d wind up divorced.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No. Absolutely not. If I hadn’t married Melinda, I wouldn’t have my girls. I love them more than life itself. Rose and Ruby are the best thing that ever happened to me. They were going to be here tonight before their mother decided at the last minute to take them to Disney World.”
“But you could marry Harley and have more kids.”
“That’s true. That may happen. We certainly would enjoy making them. If they’re anything like her, they’ll be absolutely gorgeous. And Harley would be a wonderful mother. I know I said she’s crazy, but she’s also warm and kind and generous. Plus, she’s already becoming friends with Candy and Susannah.” Rory faced Danny. “So whaddya think? You gonna pop the question?”
“Are you kidding? After that story you just told me about proposing to Melinda in front of everyone, with the eggnog and the fireplace and the horrific, awkward silence? Hell no. Besides, Candy isn’t real.”
“What do you mean she isn’t real? Of course she’s real. She’s standing right there with her hands on Harley’s tits.” Rory dropped his beer in the sand. “Holy shit, she’s got her hands on Harley’s tits. Oh my God, they’re feeling each other up.”
Candy, Harley, and Susannah were indeed taking turns feeling one another’s breasts.
“They were doing that earlier, too,” said Danny.
“Oh my God, I built a lesbian robot.”
“She is not a lesbian,” said Danny. “Trust me.”
Rory’s eyes grew wide and he drew in a sharp breath. “She’s bisexual. My robot is bisexual.” He turned to Danny. “You lucky fuck.”
“It’s not like they’re making out. They’re just . . . comparing.”
“No, remember what Candy said during dinner? She said she was turned on by the sexbot at Mechanical Man. She’s bi. I’m telling you, she’s bi. If we get Harley loaded, something might happen.”
“Would you calm down. Just when I start to have some real respect for you, you start acting like a horny frat boy.”
“Every guy has a horny frat boy inside. Sometimes, you’ve gotta let him out. If you don’t, you become repressed and sad. You start looking at that grass on the other side of the fence. And you start thinking, Gee . . . that grass looks so green and lush, I think I’m going to go over there and eat some of it. But instead of eating grass, you’re eating another woman’s vagina. And next thing you know, you’re a divorced single dad like me, hoping his would-be, quasi, pseudo-girlfriend will get it on with a bisexual robot.”
“Calm down. Candy isn’t bi. She isn’t even human. You said it yourself. She isn’t real.”
“Stop saying that. She is real. She’s standing right there. It’s not like she’s a hologram. Besides, she sucked your dick.”
“No she didn’t. She gave me a hand job.”
“Was it good?”
“Are you kidding? I thought my teeth were going to come shooting out.”
“Really? Tell me more. Did she play with your balls?”
“I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Come on, I want details.”
“No. When you tell your friends the kinky stuff you do with your woman, it sexualizes her in their eyes. Next thing you know, they’re taking the kids on play-dates together and debating breast feeding versus bottle feeding. Which is of course nothing more than thinly-veiled foreplay disguised as legitimate conversation. It’s a bad idea.”
“Did she stick her finger up your butt while she was pleasuring you? Harley does that to me. I fucking love it.”
“Would you shut up? I’m not telling you what we did together. Besides, it doesn’t matter. She isn’t real. She isn’t even human.”
“So? You spent two weeks with her and you didn’t know. You got naked with her and you didn’t know. You bought a ring and were ready to ask her to be your wife because you didn’t know. And you are an expert in robotics. You literally wrote a textbook on robots. But she fooled you. That makes her plenty real. And makes me a fuckin’ genius. I’m gonna ask Canary for a raise.”
“She isn’t human.”
“So? Being human is overrated. Just ask Blackie and the guys.”
Over by the stage, Blackie, Whitey, VanCat, and Kong were each kissing a different woman.
“You think they’d be getting all that tail if they weren’t cyborgs?” Rory asked.
“Of course, they’re musicians.”
“But being cyborgs has certainly helped. Chicks dig it. It’s kinky. And dangerous. That’s one of the reasons Harley studied robotics. Hell, it’s one of the reasons why I studied robotics. It’s one of the reasons I built Candy. Robots are so . . . pure. So . . . perfect. Not like humans. Humans are flawed. Humans are scared and selfish and always fucking each other over. But robots are fundamentally good. Take Howard, for example.” Rory pointed at Howard, where he stood beside Floyd and Susannah, who were seated at their table, holding hands and talking, clearly involved in a deep conversation. “You think Howard is bored right now? You think he’s thinking about stealing Susannah away from Floyd? No, he’s not. He should be, because Susannah is smokin’. But he’s not. He’s loyal. When he acts, he considers the ramifications of his behavior first. Howard’s greatest desire is to do no harm. If everyone aspired to such an ideal, and then actually followed through, the world would be the kind of place it ought to be. Instead of the fallen hell hole mankind has turned it into. If robots were running the world, we’d all be better off, believe you me. We wouldn’t give up the reigns easily, but it would be in our best interest to do so.”
“You honestly believe that?”
“Absolutely. Why do you think I built Candy? It’s taken me my entire life to get to the point where I could actually do it. And I had help from Tim and Canary and the whole company. A lot of help. I couldn’t have done it by myself. But we did it. We actually did it. The proof is right there, with her hand on my girlfriend’s perfect breast, right on her heart. That’s gotta be a God-given metaphor for something. Right?”
“I guess.”
“Tell you what, sport. Why don’t you go back in time twenty-four hours and not come with Tim and me on the boat. We won’t have the conversation about Candy. And you can go back to being madly in love. You can lead her up on stage right here in front of all these people, pull that iceberg out of your pocket, and pop the question. It will be nothing like my botched marriage to my kids’ mom. Candy will say yes, you’ll put the ring on her finger, she’ll shove her tongue down your throat, and then you two can run off down the beach to find a secluded spot where you can ravage each other all night to commemorate your engagement. Then you can have kids of your own and the world will be a better place for having you and your family in it. And fucked-up degenerates like me will gradually fall by the wayside.”
Danny stared at Rory. “Have kids of our own? Can it—she—we—do that?”
Rory grinned. He smacked Danny on the shoulder. “Take the plunge. Stop being such a pussy, get out of your own head, pop the question, and find out for yourself. You won’t regret it.”
Rory stepped away from the bar, headed toward where Harley stood talking and laughing with Candy and Susannah.
“What if I do regret it?” Danny called.
“You’ll regret it more if you don’t,” said Rory.
~
An hour later, it was full dark and Blackie and the guys were on stage. Blackie announced that they were recording a live album and that they would be performing a brand new song for the very first time.
The guests on the sandy dance floor in front of the stage all cheered and clapped in approval. Blackie and the guys then launched into a song about a woman named Maggie doing a rain dance, and nearly everyone hurried to dance in the cool sand. Tim and Maggie wound up in the middle of the dance floor, and the guests made a circle around them. Tim and Maggie danced and twirled, surrounded by Isaac, Nik, Copper, Gali, and Turing.
Rory and Harley danced together. Rory stood behind Harley, with his arms around her. With one hand, Harley held firmly to the back of Rory’s head.
“Look at those two. They’re practically having sex out there.”
Danny turned to see Candy standing next to him, watching Rory and Harley.
“Hi.”
Candy’s lips formed a small smile. “Hi.”
Danny looked down at his feet. He began drawing lines in the sand with his toe.
Candy watched Blackie and the guys on stage. She swayed gently in time with the music.
Danny struggled to find something to say. Were he a robot like Howard, his eyes would be positively dim for the effort of it.
The song ended and the band went into another tune. “God is good and fate is great. . . .” Blackie sang.
“These guys are really good,” said Danny.
“Is there something you want to ask me?”
Danny felt heat flush his face. Torches had been lit around the perimeter of the beach, bathing everything in an orange glow. Danny hoped Candy couldn’t see him blush.
“Why, doctor Olivaw,” said Candy, “are you blushing?”
“I don’t know, am I?”
“Is there something you want to ask me?”
Danny swallowed hard, shifted his weight, shifted it back again, and raked at the sand with his toes, first one foot and then the other. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Open bar. Drinks are free.”
“Right.” Danny turned to face the bartenders. “You guys know how to make a Fireball martini?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the robot. “However, this bar is not stocked with the necessary spirits, nor do we have adequate number of glasses.”
“Did he say ‘class’?” Candy asked.
“No, ‘glasses’.”
“Ah.”
“How about a beer?”
“No, thank you.”
Silence. Cold like the sand.
On stage, the Red Hot Cyborg Players concluded their song. Blackie announced that it was nearly time for the fireworks display to begin. “This next song is brand new. We wrote it during dinner. It’s called Fireworks.” He turned to VanCat. “Van, take it away.”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
VanCat stepped forward with his double-neck, twenty-four-string Fender. Tiny light-emitting diodes on the body lit up when he played, transforming sound into light and color. Van’s four hands played both necks softly, brushing all twenty-four strings.
Kong came in soft on his drums, followed by Whitey on his bass.
The song was melodic, beautiful, and made Danny ache inside.
Blackie stepped up to the mic. His red eyes positively beamed. “Now would be a good time for anyone standing by the bar to come out to the dance floor.”
Everyone turned and stared at Danny and Candy.
“In fact,” said Blackie, “why don’t you guys join us on stage for this number.”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
Danny and Candy looked at one another.
“Come on up,” said Blackie, “there’s room.”
The crowd cheered louder, clapped harder.
Danny caught Rory’s eye. The look on Rory’s face said it all: showtime.
Without a word, Candy began strutting toward the stage.
Danny could only follow Candy up the steps and onto the stage.
The tempo of the music increased, as did the volume. Blackie began to sing.
Everyone down on the sand began to dance. The new song was an instant hit.
Danny met Candy’s eye. “Now what?”
Candy shook her head and put her hand close to her ear. She couldn’t hear him.
Their eyes met.
Slow and tentative, Candy held out her hand.
Danny looked at it, at the skin tape covering her cut so like his own.
Candy stood motionless. Her hand hung in space.
She spoke. Danny could not hear, but he read the words on her soft pink lips: Do you want me?
Mortars blasted into the air from Tim’s offshore barge. A screaming peel split the night, followed by a flash of brilliant red light, and a percussive explosion Danny felt in his chest.
Great blossoms of light opened in the darkness. Red and blue and green and gold, sparkling overhead like luminescent rain.
Fireworks lit up the sky.
Everyone cheered.
The pops, booms, whistles, and cracks melded perfectly with the music Blackie and the guys were pumping out of the Marshall stacks. VanCat played with his eyes closed. Blackie held the mic in both hands, giving it his all. Whitey bobbed his head and rocked his bass. Kong pounded his drums, keeping perfect time while he smiled up at the fireworks with his red cyborg eyes.
Candy’s silent words hung in the air, louder and brighter than the fireworks, ringing in Danny’s ears.
Do you want me?
A red starburst flashed overhead, followed by thunder.
Red light filled Candy’s eyes.
Danny could scarcely bring himself to hold Candy’s gaze. Her eyes so red.
Do you want me?
And then he said it. “You’re not real.”
The drums beat.
Candy dropped her hand.
The guitar hummed.
Candy took one step back.
~
Music filled the night.
Candy climbed down from the stage, onto the sand.
Danny merely watched as Candy walked and then ran away from him.
She looked over her shoulder, directly at him, while she pushed her way through the dancing guests. She fled toward the house, and her long blond hair bounced with each stride.
Danny watched her go, with fireworks bright and purple and red and green, and her eyes wet with tears.
Read next chapter: