Authors: Rachael Eyre
Appreciative chuckles. Feist ignored them. “You thought he’d been involved with the artificial Guy Love - why, exactly?”
It was his turn to stifle a yawn. “I believe I’ve already made that clear.” He raised an eyebrow, as if to say,
Is that the best you’ve got?
“Do you honestly think Lord Langton would jeopardise his sister’s career by a dalliance with the artificial she had created?”
“I don’t know, Ms ...” Lucy pretended to search his memory for her name, then give up.
“So you clung to this idea despite there being, as you’ve admitted, no evidence? No charges brought against him? Would it be fair to say you have a grudge against my client?”
“I would never allow personal feelings to get in the way of my work.”
“No personal feelings,” Feist mused. “While we’re on the subject, why did you appear in person to collect Foster? Wouldn’t that normally be left to your subordinates?”
The question startled him but a lie had already bobbed to his lips. The man had spent so much of his life dissembling, he no longer knew when he was acting.
“We’ve been too lenient with robot offences,” Lucy said, hooking his fingers into his waistband. “The Prime Minister said we should make an example of him.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the Prime Minister. Can she validate your claim?”
His pause lasted a fraction too long. There were jeers up in the gallery. Somebody - it sounded like Gwyn - shouted, “Liar!”
“I’ve heard interesting stories about your conduct while my client’s been in prison,” she went on. “Shall we discuss them?”
“I -” Lucy blinked twice, swallowed. “Your Honour, I’m feeling unwell. I ask leave to continue my evidence when I’m feeling better.”
Justice Begum clearly scented bullshit but shrugged and let him go. “Call the next witness.”
The next witness, Alfred saw with no surprise, was Sugar. To his credit he seemed thoroughly uncomfortable. The doctor’s gaze kept flitting to him, to Josh and back again.
“I am Dr Noah Sugar, Josh Foster’s creator,” he said. Sweat bloomed across his shirt; he kept wiping behind his collar. He made his vow to Thea in a croaky, querulous voice.
There was no unctuous friendliness in Sir Matthias’s manner now. “Dr Sugar. When did the ‘friendship’ between Langton and the artificial begin?”
It came automatically, painfully. “They’ve known each other since August 2162.”
“How and why did it begin?”
“Langton had made inflammatory comments about artificials, which we couldn’t let stand. Josh convinced us to let him go Chimera and talk to Langton himself.”
“He ‘convinced’ you? Surely it’s part of the Robotics Code to -” half the room mumbled it with him - “defer to their owner in all things?”
Sugar examined his hands. “That’s never worked with Josh. We thought it was a good idea at the time. It paid off - he and Langton became inseparable.”
“Hmm.” Sir Matthias smacked his lips. “Inseparable, eh?”
“It wasn’t like that! At least, not in those days. It brought Josh out of his shell, made Langton less - well -”
Alfred acknowledged the point with a dip of his head.
“- so when he made suggestions, like Josh having a place of his own, or them going away, we saw no reason to -”
“Ha!” A raw sausage finger stabbed the air. “He kept making moves to isolate the artificial and you didn’t wonder why?”
“In retrospect, yes, we regret our decision,” Sugar said. “It wasn’t until they returned from their trip we realised how mistaken we had been. Dr Fisk said she had cause to believe their relationship had become ...” He crimsoned, a fresh crest of sweat breaking across his back. “Intimate.”
A naked, vulnerable word, foisted in front of these ghouls. Alfred closed his eyes. He wished he could shut his ears.
“Dr Fisk seems to confide in an awful lot of people,” Sir Matthias observed. “Will she be testifying?”
A nameless court flunky said, “Dr Fisk is unable to appear due to health reasons.”
“A pity! What was CER’s next move, now the cat was out of the bag?”
“We couldn’t force Josh to make a clean break with Langton. Everyone would wonder why. We decided he should have a high profile relationship with someone appropriate.”
“Ms Howey, am I right?”
Alfred picked Claire out in the crowd. She had taken great care with her appearance: an elegant grey coat, a purple pinwork dress, sensational hair. She saw he was looking at her and shrank.
Poor girl. Any enmity he might have felt was dead. If CER hadn’t chosen her as its sacrifice it would have been somebody else. Her eyes were red rimmed, her mouth gnawed. She’d obviously been bullied into attending. A young man with a buzz cut sat beside her, holding her hand.
Sugar’s next words disturbed his daydream. “One night - it must’ve been mid January - Josh came to my house for help. Langton was with him. His face had nearly been ripped off - it was hanging by a thread.”
Exclamations of horror. Claire covered her face with her hands.
“He said Ms Howey had done it. You’ve seen her, a teensy scrap of a thing. Langton didn’t stay long - perhaps he knew I suspected -”
“That’s not what happened,” Alfred protested.
Begum slapped her hand down. “Langton, I don’t want to have to tell you again.”
Sugar gave details of a bruise he’d seen on Josh’s neck, as well as other ‘marks’. The artificial was shaking his head, distressed, but his creator ploughed on. It wasn’t slander - he believed everything he was saying. Alfred finally understood the man’s drastic change in attitude, his desperate efforts to shield Josh. Sugar had thought he was abusing him.
It’s painful to be confronted with how others perceive you. Alfred had always seen himself as a flawed but decent man - not nice, perhaps, but trying to be good. On paper he was a wastrel, a reprobate. A man who had pissed away his privilege, used his influence to prey on robots.
He didn’t listen to the rest of Sir Matthias’s questions. He could only sit rigid with shock. He heard Josh’s voice inside his head:
He can’t hurt us. Keep strong
. The artificial was watching him with love and pride, his hand against the booth.
Now it was Feist’s turn. She was gentler with Sugar, impressed by his sincerity. “Dr Sugar, you obviously care about Josh.”
“Yes. You could say he’s like the son I never had.”
“Objection! What’s this got to do with anything?” Sir Matthias bellowed.
“Overruled,” Begum said.
“Have you spoken to him about his relationship with my client?”
“A few times. The last was that morning - you know, after I’d mended his face. I told him artificials couldn’t feel genuine love. He took great offence.”
Josh looked as fierce as Alfred had seen him, but had the sense to keep quiet.
“You say he knew his own mind in other instances. Why should this be different?”
He took a minute to answer. “I was worried he’d been got at somehow. Not tampered with - only Dr Fisk and myself can make lasting changes. But Langton has such an overpowering personality -”
“Could it be that Josh’s feelings here are as genuine as they’ve been elsewhere?”
Sugar bunched his tie in his fist. “That would have - implications - I don’t think anyone here fully understands.”
“Would you say you believe this to be the case, or you wish it to be the case?”
Sugar writhed, beads forming on his forehead. “It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“No further questions, Your Honour.”
To everyone’s relief they paused for half an hour’s break. Begum and her minions wafted out; the jury went their separate ways. One was griping about ladders in her tights, another bursting for a slash. The last to leave was Josh, the guard’s gun in his back.
Feist fetched them both a coffee. She never had much colour but the morning’s exertions had left her drained. She sipped the boiling water. “How do you think it went?” she asked anxiously.
“Better than expected.” He knew she wouldn’t be offended. “I felt sorry for Sugar, though.”
“Gods, Alfred! He’s trying to ruin you.”
“It’s what he believes.” It was an important distinction. “Who’s next?”
“Claire Howey.”
“That’ll be a barrel of laughs.”
It might have been a costume change at the theatre. It seemed no time at all that the players came back. Justice Begum was trying to shake off a stubborn, round faced little boy who was her spitting image.
“Yes, it’s a very nice drawing, but this isn’t the time or place.” He refused to budge. “Stop it, Jasvinder! Mummy’s working!”
Jasvinder ran on short plump legs across the room, making hooting noises. Josh waved his guard aside and crouched so he was on the boy’s level. “Come on, Jasvinder,” he said quietly. “Your mum has to get back to work.”
The judge watched him fearfully. He nodded, let her know it was under control. Jasvinder didn’t seem frightened in the least.
“Shan’t! She didn’t even look.”
Josh was handed the picture. He examined it with unfeigned admiration. “That’s a lovely pussy cat.”
“You can see what it is?”
“Of course I can. Does she have a name?”
“Colin.”
Jasvinder followed the artificial back to the bench, meekly taking his seat. Justice Begum was lost for words. “Um - thank you, Foster.”
“You’re welcome, Your Honour.” He let the guard return him to his booth.
A sigh went around the courtroom when Claire rose to give her evidence.
Claire and Josh
fans must have been out in force. She was plainly terrified, swimming in unfamiliar seas, but her obstinacy wouldn’t let her drown.
Sir Matthias didn’t know what to do with her. The narrative he needed called for a different girl - a girl who had been chewed up and spat out. Yes, she had suffered and been publicly humiliated, but she didn’t bear a grudge. This wasn’t what he wanted. He tried to provoke a reaction.
“You were, I quote, ‘crazy in love with Josh’, yet seem totally unmoved by the fact he was cheating! With a man old enough to be your father!”
“I was upset. But it’s different now.”
“What about the night Dr Sugar mentioned? Who damaged the artificial’s face? You or Langton?”
She hesitated but honesty won out. “It was me. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”
“Ha! You admit you attacked him?”
“He said he never loved me. I overreacted. But we’re friends now. We made up.”
Sir Matthias was practically spitting. “You’re a wronged wife! Don’t you care?”
“I did at the time, but I don’t now. That’s all there is to it.”
Sir Matthias stepped down fuming, saying it wasn’t his job to cross examine simpletons. Claire
was
simple, but not the way he meant. She believed in right and wrong, good and evil, and she was bewildered when other people didn’t.
Feist’s approach was that of a sympathetic big sister. “Ms Howey. Why did you enter the competition?”
There were calls that this was irrelevant. Justice Begum silenced them.
“I didn’t mean to. I sort of fell into it. Then I met Josh, and -” She bit her lip. “It was love at first sight.”
The fans exclaimed, “Aww!” Sir Matthias and Lucy wore matching sneers.
“Didn’t you wonder what was behind it? That CER might have their reasons for organising the competition?”
“It was the best prize in the world - all of us wanted to win. I couldn’t believe my luck when Josh chose me.”
Feist broached the subject gingerly. “When did you suspect Josh had feelings for Langton?”
Claire faltered but Josh nodded.
It’s alright. Tell her
.
“On our honeymoon. We were stuck inside, the weather was bad. We were all snuggled up in bed, Josh sounded really happy, then he said his name.”
“My client’s?”
“Yes. He said ‘Alfred’ - only the way he said it, it was like -”
“They were more than friends?” Feist supplied tactfully.
A disappointed murmur went around the courtroom. Probably they’d expected some salacious detail, like Josh bumming her.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Claire was saying. “I felt like an idiot. If it was a girl I’d understand, but how can a robot be gay?”
“How indeed?” Sir Matthias drawled. Justice Begum gestured at him to shut up.
“As I saw it, I was his wife, he’d promised himself to me. I tried warnin’ Langton off and it worked for a while. But it was like they couldn’t stay away from each other -”
“Culminating in the evening you, uh, damaged his face?”
“Yes. They came in and I could tell they’d been havin’ sex. I don’t know what men do together.”
That was partly it, Alfred realised. All these people salivating, wanting to know how the other half lived. Robot sex already had an exotic flavour. Throw in something forbidden and poorly understood, like sex between men, and they were tantalised.