LoveMachine (4 page)

Chapter Six

But of course it wasn’t as easy as that. Apparently you
couldn’t decide out of nowhere to make a robot penis and start the same day. It
wasn’t a matter of taking Old Faithful and attaching it to Blue with some duct
tape. Cally, and Blue himself of course, wanted it to work properly, to start
out soft(ish) and grow erect when he was aroused.

“Otherwise, you’ll be walking around with a huge rod between
your legs like someone out of
Spinal Tap
,” Cally reasoned, and after
checking the reference, Blue agreed that would be awkward.

Also, they wanted it to be sensitive, to be a true part of
Blue’s body, wired up to his brain. “Just like a real man,” Cally said again.

They wanted him to have sexual pleasure from it. Blue had to
make diagrams and explanations and Cally had to learn more about the
construction of robots than she’d ever had cause or desire to learn before.

And of course there was the question of what to make it out
of.

“We have adequate spare parts in the storeroom, I think,”
Blue said.

“No way,” said Cally. “This is your penis, Blue. It’s your
dick. It’s your cock. It’s your pride and joy and I’m looking forward to it
being mine too. We are not making it out of spare parts you happen to have
kicking around.”

“Then we will have to place some orders to California and
Japan,” Blue conceded, already connecting to the vendors’ sites via his
permanent inbuilt internet connection.

By mutual agreement, they kept their project a secret from
the rest of the household, human and robot alike. It meant snatched, whispered
conversations during the day, emails and texts while Cally was at work at her
human resources job, documents, diagrams and research results sent directly to
her laptop from Blue’s brain.

And at night Blue would make his discreet way to Cally’s
bedroom, ensuring he wasn’t seen by anyone. He could move absolutely silently
when he wished. Ilsa and Jonathan were absorbed, as ever, in their own lives
but the other house robots were, as Blue knew, acute observers, even if they
didn’t draw connections from what they observed.

“I haven’t snuck around with a lover like this since I was
sixteen,” Cally said one night, when the snow was falling in fat flakes outside
her window.

Blue was lying on his front on her bed, propped up on his
elbows, and she was naked. They were surrounded by drawings Cally had made of
various penile shapes and sizes, some based on ones she had known but mostly
from her own very avid fantasies. They’d been examining them, Blue with what
she could have sworn was amusement, until they’d gotten distracted.

“Is that when you lost your virginity?” Blue asked, lazily
playing with her left nipple. “At sixteen?”

“Fifteen. But sixteen was when I got brave enough to smuggle
a boy inside the house.”

“The same boy?”

“No,” Cally said. “They were never the same boy. What’s the
fun in that?”

“You’ve had many lovers.”

“But none of them quite like you, Blue,” she said
cheerfully. “Wow. It just occurred to me—technically, you’re a virgin.”

“I am many years behind you in experience.”

“Hey,” Cally said, swatting his immovable shoulder. “Here’s
a lesson in human etiquette—never mention how old a woman is.”

“You’re not old. You’re young and beautiful.”

“That’s better.” She lay back, better to appreciate his
talented touch. “You’re a quick learner. And you’re only still a virgin because
you haven’t got the working parts yet. I’m going to enjoy teaching you
everything I know about sex.”

“Perhaps I will be able to teach you a thing or two.”

“If you’re lucky.”

“Until I am properly equipped, this discussion is all
theoretical.” He picked up one of the drawings. “And if I am equipped with
this, I calculate that my loss of virginity will forever be theoretical,
because there is little chance of something this enormous fitting into your
vagina.”

“Okay, I got carried away a little.”

“Did you receive the picture of Michelangelo’s
David
I sent you?”

“That thing is
tiny
, Blue. You’ve got to be kidding.
We’re not making you one of those.”

“It’s flaccid. It is all about potential.”

“It’s all about girth and that thing is a peanut even when
it’s aroused, believe me.”

“The
David
is the epitome of male beauty.”

“You’re about a hundred times better-looking than a lump of
marble and it’s about time you knew it.”

Realistically, Blue’s eyes should look the same no matter
what was going on inside him. They glowed and their glow was provided by some
sort of amber-colored lightbulb, which should either be on or off. But
sometimes, now that she knew him, she could see when he was thinking hard. His
eyes dimmed slightly as if the energy was being diverted toward brain power.
And when he decided something or discovered something, his eyes glowed even
brighter than they’d been before.

They did it now—dimmed then brightened.

“Thank you,” he said. “I do not believe you but thank you
nevertheless.”

“You can believe me. I’m a connoisseur of good-looking
males. Life would be a lot easier if you weren’t that specific shade of blue
though,” Cally added. “How long is it going to take them to send the sheets of
skin from Japan? Another two weeks?”

“Fourteen working days,” said Blue. “It would only have been
seven if you had agreed to use the color they had in stock.”

“I’ll wait an extra seven days if it means your cock matches
the rest of you. I like your shade of blue.” She ran her palm over his
perfectly sculpted back. “Why do you think my father made you blue?”

“For the same reason he made all the house robots unnatural
colors,” he replied. “The uncanny valley.”

“Hmm. That sounds sort of sexy, in a sort of entirely unsexy
way. What is it?”

“Humans are quite happy to accept the existence of a robot
that does not resemble them too much. For example in fiction, C-3PO, or WALL-E,
or Optimus Prime are acceptable robots. They are humanoid without attempting to
be human. However, the closer a robot looks like a human being, the more
obvious are its differences. A robot that looks like it is trying to imitate a
human will appear uncanny, repulsive, even frightening. Your father created us
in unnatural colors to avoid falling into the uncanny valley.”

“But you do look human,” Cally said. “Except for the
blueness and the lack of hair and the glowing eyes. And the lack of penis.”

“And all those exceptions, Cally, are the reason you can
perceive me as a replica of a human being and not a monster.”

He sounded sad and his eyes had dimmed.

“Blue, you’re intelligent, you’re sexy, you’re sensitive,
you’re fun. You’re nothing like a monster and you’re not a replica of anything.
You’re yourself.”

“Cally, I appreciate your sympathy. But the fact remains. If
I were an organic, authentic being, we would not, for example, be awaiting an
order of synthetic blue skin from Japan before we could have sexual intercourse.”

“You’re totally authentic,” Cally insisted. “Unpredictable
and curious and very male. Anyway, humans are, for the most part, completely a
waste of time. I bet I could take you down to Chico’s one Friday night and you
would be by far the most popular person there.”

“You would not take me there, however.”

“Who says?”

“You have never wished to be associated with your father’s
inventions. I infer, though I have not been positively informed, that you have
not discussed our relations nor even my existence with the people outside this
house.”

“Blue, if you want to go to Chico’s or anywhere else for
that matter, I’ll take you there.”

“You would not mind being accompanied by a 1.9-metre blue
robot?”

“I told you, you’re great. I’d take you anywhere.”

Blue rolled a drawing into a perfect tube. Cally could tell
he didn’t believe her.

“Anywhere,” she repeated.

“Perhaps, then,” said Blue slowly, “we should go to your
favorite bar together. Once we’ve finished this—building project.”

“Of course. It’ll be fun. You’re not a drinker but I bet I
could teach you to dance.”

“I already know how to dance,” Blue said.

“It’s a date.” Cally swept her pile of drawings off the bed.
They fell like the snow outside. “Now show me how you can dance.” She stood up,
naked, and held her arms out to Blue.

He joined her, taking her hand in one of his and putting his
other on her waist.

“Wait a sec,” said Cally, “we should have music. I’ll go
plug my iPod into the speakers.”

“No need.” He pulled her closer as
(I’ve Had) The Time of
My Life
started playing from somewhere in the region of his left ear.

Cally began to laugh but Blue was already leading her around
the carpet in a dance.

“Blue,” she gasped, “you are absolutely—”

“Cally?”

It wasn’t Blue’s voice. Blue and Cally immediately froze,
looking over at the door where Ilsa was standing, her eyes wide in shock.

“I just—I was only—um, okay, see you later,” Ilsa said and
disappeared. Cally and Blue both stared at the place where she’d been.

“I don’t think she liked
Dirty Dancing
,” joked Cally
finally.

“Is she upset?”

“She’ll be fine. Come on, let’s dance.”

But she knew that wasn’t going to be the end of it.

* * * * *

Cally avoided the issue for several days but eventually she
knew she’d have to face it so she forced herself to turn up for dinner one
Wednesday night. Her brother and her sister were already at the table, helping
themselves from a serving bowl of chili.

“I’ll set my own place, Red,” Cally said, taking a plate and
cutlery from the sideboard. She sat next to Ilsa and scooped up a big serving
of chili, taking some corn bread and salad too.

“I thought you’d given up eating,” Jonathan commented,
pouring them each a glass of water from the pitcher. “Or does Blue make you
snacks when you’ve got a few minutes in between naked dancing?”

“Jonathan,” whispered Ilsa, embarrassed. Though not too
embarrassed to have told their brother what she’d seen, obviously.

“I’ve been busy,” Cally said. “Don’t try to spoil it for me,
Jonathan. We’re both having a lot of fun.”

“When I went over the month’s accounts with Green yesterday,
I noticed quite a bit of expenditure on electronics and synthetic polymers,”
said Jonathan. “All taken from the household budget. Are you building
something, Ilsa?”

“No.”

“Are
you
building something, Cally? You and Blue?”

Cally didn’t answer, because she knew Jonathan would have
deduced it already. Or if he hadn’t, he’d have shown the invoices to Ilsa and
she’d have figured it out in seconds. She took a bite of her corn bread. Red
was an amazing cook but tonight it tasted dry as dust.

“You’re spending a lot of money on this…what should we call
it?” asked Jonathan. “An extra appendage?”

“So? We’ve got a lot of money.”

“It seems that if you wanted sex on demand, it would be more
cost-effective for you to pay a gigolo. Not spend a bunch of cash making Blue
into some kind of a sex machine. Unless you’re thinking of putting him on the
market?”

“Shut up, Jonathan,” said Ilsa. “We’ve already been through
this.”

“If money is a problem, I’ll pay for it myself,” said Cally.
“Though it’s not a problem so I don’t see why you’re making a big deal out of
it.”

“If it’s what Blue wants,” said Ilsa, “he should have it. We
have a budget for research and development anyway. And you can use the workshop
if you need to. But did you put the idea into his head, Cally?”

Cally put down her spoon hard enough to make a bang. “Blue
is capable of thinking for himself.”

“Yeah. He is. But Dad didn’t make these robots so you could
have a toy, Cally. He made them to take care of us. Blue is intellige—”

“Are you saying Blue’s too bright to bother with me? Because
you might want to ask him. Ask him what he wants. Just because you created his
chatbot program, Ilsa, it doesn’t mean you created him.”

“He’s different lately,” said Ilsa. “His speech, for
example. It’s becoming more colloquial. You say I didn’t create him, Cally…but
I wonder if you’re trying to make him into something that you want yourself?”

Cally pushed her chair back and stood up. “Thanks for the
fun family dinner, guys,” she said on her way out of the room. “And thanks for
your support.”

“Cally,” Ilsa called after her but she’d already closed the
door.

Chapter Seven

“Only two more left,” said Blue, carefully placing an
electrode on the side of Cally’s forehead.

“I feel like a computer chip or something.” Cally looked
down at her naked body. Electrodes ran from several places on her skin,
including her fingertips, her nipples, the backs of her knees and her inner
thighs. There was a tiny silklike wire attached to her clitoris and several had
been placed by Blue, with infinite gentleness, into her vagina.

“Welcome to my world,” said Blue. He applied the last
electrode to the other side of Cally’s forehead to complement the many attached
beneath her hair. Then he paused. “If you are uncomfortable, we can stop.”

“No way. This is important. If we’re going to have sex, you
have to be able to come. If it takes me being wired up like something out of a
sci-fi movie, that’s what it takes.”

“It does not have to be you,” Blue said. “I could ask
another volunteer. A male response might be more authentic. Perhaps your
brother—”

“Jonathan isn’t interested.” She smiled up at Blue. “I can’t
imagine how male orgasms could possibly be any better than mine anyway. If you
don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

The wires protruding from her body were all bundled
together, ending in a simple USB connection. Blue lifted his hand to his neck
at the base of the back of his head and pulled a small section of his skin
aside to reveal a slot.

“That’s where you plug in? How you connect things with your
brain?”

“Does the sight disturb you?”

“Nothing about you disturbs me, Blue. How are you doing with
the construction?”

“It is coming along fine. It should be ready for
installation in a day or two and then I’ll need your assistance.”

“Excellent.”

“Are you ready to begin?”

“What do you mean, am I ready? You’re going to make me come.
I’m always ready for that.”

“Are your orgasms identical to each other?”

Cally nearly shook her head but then she remembered the
wires. “No. Some are more intense than others. Like, the first one is always
quicker but it’s not as deep as the second one, for example. Some of them wake
me up and make me want more and some of them satisfy me and make me ready to go
to sleep.”

“It will probably be wise for you to come as many times as
possible then. So I can collect data from all of them.”

“No complaints here.”

Blue plugged the wires into his brain.

“Are we connected?” asked Cally.

“Yes.”

“I can’t feel anything different.”

“There’s no reason you should.”

“It’s sort of weird. The idea of my brain being wired to
yours.” She screwed her eyes shut tight and concentrated. “Nope. Can’t read
your mind. No, wait, I can. Blue, that’s filthy. I love it.”

“You are joking because you’re uncomfortable. We can stop at
any time. Now, if you like.”

“I don’t want to stop. Do you think you’ll feel everything I
can feel?”

“This is essentially a data-collection exercise. I’ll be
amassing as much information as I can so I can analyze and categorize it and
assign similar reactions to myself. Whether I will actually feel it as you feel
it, at the same time, is uncertain. I should think it unlikely. But I’ve never
done this before. Nor has anyone as far as I am aware.”

“We should probably be recording this for science.”

“It will be stored in my memory. Unless you’d like to take
notes?”

“Screw science. Let’s start.”

Blue positioned himself, kneeling between her spread legs on
the bed.

“That said,” Cally commented, “I do feel a little bit like
an experiment. Do you really want to do this, Blue?”

“We will stop. You are having second thoughts.” Blue reached
for his USB port.

“No! No, I’m not having second thoughts. I was just making
sure
you
want to do this. That it hasn’t all been my idea.”

“It has been a fully consensual process.”

“Phew. I mean—yeah. That’s what I thought. Okay, let’s get
going.”

Blue stroked slowly and gently up her thighs, parting her
legs even wider. She was wet already—she was more or less permanently in heat
since she’d started this tryst thing with Blue. It was the unpredictability, the
exoticness, the sneaking around, the feeling she got when she was with him. The
way he was learning to play her body. Not to mention the fact that he never got
tired, nor bored of finding the smallest variation that might increase her
pleasure.

He stared down at her, spread out in front of him, as if her
cunt was the most fascinating thing in the universe. She clenched underneath
his gaze. And then softly, with the pad of his thumb, he feathered over her
clit.

Cally gasped.

Blue jumped as he did when he was tickled.

“Oh,” he said and then he did it again.

He jumped again.

“You’re feeling it too, aren’t you?” Cally breathed.

“It is startling,” he replied. “I didn’t know it was so…”

He did it again. And again. And some more.

“Do you really feel this each time I touch you? All this?”

“And it gets better, believe it or not.”

“Is it—” He circled round her clit and then came back to it.

“You must like it if you’re not completing your sentences,”
Cally said.

She watched him. He was focused and his movements, while
still delicate and precise, had an urgency to them she had never felt before.
As if he was overwhelmed by the pleasure his touches were giving her and
himself and yet he couldn’t stop. He wanted more. He quickened his strokes on
her clitoris, sliding one finger into her.

“Aagh,” he said.

“Are you all right?” Cally asked, having trouble breathing
properly herself.

He thrust his finger into her with the same rapid rhythm as
his thrumming on her clit. “I…see what all the fuss is about. Are we going to
come soon?”

“Not long now. Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Can you feel it building up, Blue?” she panted. “Put
another finger into me.”

He did. “You want it harder.”

“Yes, harder. Faster.” She felt the first tremors of her
orgasm. Between her legs, Blue shook. And kept going.

“You love it, don’t you?” she asked him, barely able to form
the words, thrusting back down onto him.

He was stroking her so fast and hard now that she was being
pushed backward onto the pillows. Heedless of the wires, she lifted herself on
her elbows, sat up enough so she could grasp Blue’s shoulders. She felt his
muscles bunching, felt the heat of his skin, the way he was shaking. She was on
the edge of coming. A single second more, another thrust, another stroke and—

“I love—” gasped Blue and then she was coming and so was he.

Her world exploded around her but Cally held on to Blue,
watching him. She shuddered and he grew rigid.

The lights in his eyes went out.

Oh fuck. She’d broken Blue.

“Blue!” She tried to shake his shoulders. She couldn’t move
him, he was rooted like a marble statue to the bed. His eyes stayed out.

Panic clawed through her, replacing ecstasy. “Blue! Wake
up!” She pushed at him, slapped his chest. No response.

She began ripping off the electrodes. She’d have to run to
Ilsa. Forget their argument, Ilsa would know what to do to get Blue running
again. She’d have to. Because it couldn’t be permanent, not from an orgasm for
God’s sake, she couldn’t have killed him with pleasure.

Please, no.

She was about to jump off the bed when she heard a low
whirring sound. Blue’s eyes stuttered then resumed their deep, even glow. He
straightened his bent posture so he was kneeling.

“Wow,” he said.

“Blue!” she cried and threw herself on him.

“Are you all right, Cally?”

“You went out! I thought you were dead! Oh my God.” She
hugged him as tight as she could. “Don’t do that again.”

“I was not prepared for such intensity of pleasure,” he
said. “My system was temporarily overwhelmed.” He stroked her hair. “Don’t
worry, Cally.”

“Jeez. You nearly gave me a heart attack too.”

“I should have known that the human sexual response would be
exceedingly strong,” he mused. “Merely from the weight of the attention given
to it. It is my own fault for not anticipating the level of stimulation.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I should have thought. You
said you were programmed to feel mild danger and pleasure, enough to keep you
safe. You’ve been satisfied with nothing more than kisses and caresses from me,
plus some dirty talking, for weeks. If I’d thought about it, I’d have known you
weren’t ready for the big bang.”

“I was ready. I was merely unprepared. I will not be
unprepared the next time.”

Cally pictured Blue going dead after every orgasm. Then
again, that wouldn’t be so different than a lot of the men she’d known.

“Maybe next time you should leave me some jumper cables or
something.”

“My sensors are already adjusting themselves. You said your
first orgasms are usually less intense than later ones. And this was a first
one. Astounding.”

“It was…pretty intense anyway.” Because they’d been sharing
it. But Blue wasn’t to know that. He’d never had any other experiences.

Unlike me. I’ve had way more than my share of
disconnected sex.

Cally blinked. Where had that thought come from? She loved
her sex life. It was great. Sure, she’d been going through a bit of a dry patch
before she hitched up with Blue but that didn’t matter anymore. Right now, her
sex life rocked. And she was a “right now” sort of woman. Always had been.

“Let’s do it again,” Blue said.

“All right.” She reached for the electrodes she’d torn off.
“But this time, don’t die when we come, okay?”