Eye Candy (42 page)

“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?

A screaming peel split the ni
ght, followed by a flash of brilliant red light, and a percussive explosion Danny felt in his chest.

Fireworks lit up the
sky.

Great blossoms of light opened in the darkness. Red and blue and green and gold, sparkling overhead like luminescent rain.

Mortars blasted into the air from Tim’s offshore barge. 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 him
self 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 and onto the sand.

Danny merely watched as Candy wal
ked 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.

Chapter 30

Robot Intuition

and

a Promise

All Hallow’s Eve.

Danny sat on one side of his
deep, cozy sectional sofa.

Floyd and Susannah occupied the other side
, snuggled close to one another.

Howard made the requisite journey to the front door each time the doorbell chimed. He distributed generous handfuls of candy with his large, complexly-jointed hand. He complimented the trick-or-treaters, praising the little fairy princesses, and oohing appropriately at the frightening witches and ghouls.

Danny took another hit from Floyd’s bong, and handed the pipe to Floyd. Floyd cleared it of the milky white smoke and passed it to Susannah. Susannah fired the bowl with Floyd’s souvenir Statue of Liberty torch.

“Hey, Howard?”
Danny called.

“
Yes, sir?” Howard dropped fistfuls of candy into the orange plastic pumpkin pales of two zombies.

“
Bring me back another piece of chicken please.”

Howard
bid good evening to the trick-or-treaters, closed the door, and returned to the kitchen. Between trips to the front door, Howard was attempting to clean up the dinner feast. He kept the food itself warm on the stove and in the oven. He’d learned that when Masters Floyd and Danny and Mistress Susannah were partying, their appetites tended to be enormous. Floyd placed a breast of chicken on a plate, along with a generous portion of his homemade sweet potatoes and a mound of spinach salad. He handed the plate to Danny.

“
How did you know I wanted sweet potatoes and salad, too?” Danny asked.

“
Robot intuition, sir.” The doorbell chimed once more, and Howard moved to answer it.

Danny spooned a massive heap of sweet potatoes into his mouth and said,
“Robotic intuition? Hey, you guys, do robots have intuition?”

On the giant
television, two round-headed boys were spending the night in a pumpkin patch, awaiting the arrival of a mythical being. One of them owned a beagle of some repute. Danny had difficulty following the story. His eyes felt fuzzy. His head felt fuzzier. He savored the potatoes in his mouth and waited for an answer from Floyd and Susannah. He had never tasted anything so decadent.