"I am fully functioning like a flesh and blood man," Tristan smiled. "Just tell me what you like, and I'll be anything you want me to be."
Deon grinned. Suddenly his luck had turned. The bad day was forgotten as he prepared for a certainly unforgettable night. He looked forward to touching and tasting that smooth skin.
***
"Did you catch it?" Margeret-Shannan Hermelinda Nine-Brambila frowned at the policeman who had filed her complaint. Human beings were definitely less efficient than robots. Especially lifelike robots like her sex toy.
"No, ma'am," the man answered patiently. "We would have called you if we had. The image has been fed into the system, though, if any camera catches a glimpse of it, we shall be notified. And so will you."
"Mm." She glared at his black uniform and plump body. He was nothing like Tristan. "I guess I should go back to the Serenaide Labs and ask them if they found a way to trace it."
"You might suggest they add a tracking device to custom-made BOBs, to avoid such inconveniences. They could be stolen, after all."
"They might be robots, but they can defend themselves," she snapped. "They are ten times stronger than men. He wasn't stolen, he just left."
"Then suggest they add some kind of block in the AI." The policeman shrugged. "If it has a half-decent AI, it will know how to avoid surveillance cameras."
"Unless there are new ones that it's not aware of. It's five years old. Maybe its knowledge is not updated, since I don't let it go on the meganet. It recharges itself wirelessly, but that doesn't mean he can access upgrades."
"So we could check sudden energy surges in utilities," the policeman mused. "It must recharge somewhere..."
"That's an excellent idea." She nodded sternly and rose. "Keep me posted. I'll go back to the Labs to suggest your improvements."
She stormed out of the police station, snorting with impatience. Her flying limo took her to the Serenaide Labs building avoiding all traffic at lower levels and deposited her on the roof of the skyscraper where the labs were. The driver was also an android, less sophisticated than Tristan, but still human-looking. It was programmed to drive her around and open her doors, and that was it. No conversational skills, nothing.
She took the elevator down to Doctor Sumirasko's office. Her money gave her preferential access to the head of cybernetics, instead of lowly employees. She had plenty of androids coming out of the Serenaide Labs – they made the perfect workers, whether drivers, maids, cooks, servants – why should she bother hiring human beings when she could afford more efficient workers who didn't complain about the treatment?
Her sister kept telling her she was becoming a grumpy old spinster, but she had no intention of remarrying, not even a younger man. Especially not with a younger man, who'd fuck her only to get her money! Tristan was just perfect – he fucked like a god and didn't want anything in return. He was well programmed to please her and she was losing interest in meeting real human beings.
"I don't understand how a BOB might have developed a mind of its own," she complained to Doctor Sumirasko. "I'm sure it wasn't stolen, so why did it leave?"
"He wasn't programmed to externalize his feelings, unless he was responding to you," he replied. "I don't think he knows how to complain or explain why he did it. We're tracking his series number – if it appears on any utility service, we'll know where he's recharging."
"His battery lasts for forty-eight hours!" she protested. "Which means you just missed his recharging time!"
"And in another two days he'll have to recharge again, and we'll find him. I think I know where the programming went wrong, and we can probably fix it, as soon as we find him."
"What do you mean you think you know? Could it be avoided in the future?"
He smiled. "Probably. There is one unknown factor we can't really predict, and it's the human factor."
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
"I mean that we build them to your specifications. We have more and more robots and androids who act as servants or caregivers, and especially in the second case they need to be carefully programmed. Wealthy people who purchase robots for their homes must determine which model is best suited to a family's particular need."
"I already talked with your counselor when I purchased it, thank you," she snapped. "I don't want a better option, I want customer service! All the others are doing just fine, and they're much older than Tristan!"
"But Tristan is a BOB and he's of a superior breed, so to speak. He has a much bigger AI inside his head and is programmed to respond to his owner. Like I said, what we can't predict is human behavior. They don't change unless we change."
She narrowed her eyes and scowled at him.
"Are you saying he ran away because he was sick of me or something?"
"It's the first time I hear you speaking of him as a 'he'," he replied, amused. "Yes, he has a personality, and yes, it evolved with you. I do not wish to know what happens in your household, but either he could not keep up or he was so far ahead that the controls snapped and he took off."
She gaped at him. It had never occurred to her that androids could rebel. Maybe Tristan was becoming too human.
"Now if you let us do our job, we will bring him home and reprogram him," he continued. "But you'll have to figure out what you did that made him react like this, to avoid history repeating itself."
She nodded, thoughtful. "Maybe I neglected him a little," she muttered. "But I didn't think he'd care."
"Mrs Nine-Brambila, Tristan is fully programmed to be by your side at any time. If you want to marry him and take him with you everywhere, nobody will know he's not an actual human being. You have a custom-made BOB and you might have been wasting his potential unknowingly."
She pondered some more and looked at him. She had already noticed he was a handsome man, but now she saw the flawless perfection of his skin and the blue eyes staring back at her were much like Tristan's.
"Are you an android?" she asked without thinking.
He smiled. "Ever heard of S.E.T.H.?"
She shook her head, puzzled.
"Super-enhanced Trans Humanoids. Many don't even look human anymore. But some of us would rather keep a human appearance. My physical body was destroyed on Marc'harid while I worked at the Vaurabi Labs. I had time, before the catastrophe, to upload my mind to the mainframe and downloaded it here, after I had a new body built, based on my previous appearance. So this body is pretty much like Tristan, but the mind inside it is not artificial."
"I see." She nodded, impressed. "So you'll look like this forever?"
He chuckled. "Yes, I guess I have acquired immortality..."
***
Deon was madly in love. Tristan was everything he'd ever dreamed of in a lover. Tireless, tender, ready to fulfill his every wish or kink in bed and with that dazzling smile of his... The only thing was – he couldn't show off his new boyfriend. Not until it was cleared from its previous owner. Although Deon never considered Tristan an "it" labeled TR1ST4N, an artificial intelligence with a synthetic body coming out of the Serenaide Labs.
To him Tristan was alive, even though he didn't see him breathe and he couldn't hear his heartbeat. Alive and cheerful, Tristan kept his small apartment in perfect condition. And he was the god of massages. When Deon came back tired or stiff because of something that happened at work, Tristan's hands helped him relax and took care of his sore muscles.
The two days since the BOB had entered his life were like a dreamstate for him. Coming home to that gorgeous young man ready to pamper him was bliss. He was aware that Tristan didn't belong to him, though. He didn't dare raise the question, but surely the owner couldn't let go of such a great lover.
"What bothers you, Deon?" Tristan's voice came in the dead of the night. Of course he wasn't sleeping, but he even had noticed that Deon himself was restless!
"I don't want to lose you," Deon blurted out. "I know they'll come for you, eventually!"
"Yes," Tristan said. "They can d
etect when I recharge myself, and they will come."
Deon switched on the light and stared at the glorious naked body that had made love to him, making him fall asleep only to wake up with a start barely a couple of hours later. And he hadn't been able to go back to sleep since. The clock on the bed table said it was 2AM. Tristan was as alert as ever and he stared back at Deon with a serious expression.
"I wish I could afford to buy you from your owner!" Deon complained, hugging Tristan and putting his head against the flat, still chest. "Who is she anyway?"
"Margeret-Shannan Hermelinda Nine-Brambila," Tristan said.
Deon moaned. "With a name like that she must be dirty rotten filthy stinking rich!"
"Her late husband left her quite an inheritance, yes. She doesn't employ humans, only androids."
"Shit!" Deon couldn't even offer himself for menial tasks, so he could keep seeing Tristan! "It is so unfair! I love you and I can't have you!"
"You love me?" Tristan sounded surprised.
"Yes!" Deon stared at the beautiful, chiseled face. The blue eyes had widened in wonder, much like a human would do. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
Tristan squeezed him but didn't smile. "She never said anything like that to me," he said.
"People like her consider everybody else either inferior or not human!" Deon snorted. "I bet she was very demanding!"
"I was made to her specifications, so I had no trouble making her happy."
"And why did you leave, then?"
"I told you, I was bored. She left me in the closet too often. She used me in bed, then sent me back to the closet. Unlike you." He deposited a kiss on Deon's forehead. "You make me feel useful at all times."
"You mean she never took you anywhere?" Deon asked, puzzled. "I mean, if I owned you, I'd take you everywhere with me and tell everybody you're my most beautiful and beloved boyfriend and I'm sure people would be totally fooled and think you're as human as them!"
Tristan smiled. "Thank you. But I'm supposed to be a sex toy and not leave the bedroom, unless it's for some orgy or party with sex included. I had a few during the first year, but then my owner started closing her house to guests. She's become a misanthrope and hates everybody."
"How do you know all that?" Dean asked.
"I have very good hearing. Her sister still visits her. I heard her saying she was becoming a grumpy old spinster. I'm not sure I understand what it means, but I know how it feels to me."
"So how old is she?"
"She is fifty-two and she's been a widow for twenty years. Both her and her sister seduced rich old men for their money and she's terrified someone would do the same to her. She doesn't trust fellow humans anymore, but I’m the perfect bed partner since I don’t need her money."
"So you'll go back to her, eventually," Deon said, disappointed.
"I don't want to go back, but you said so yourself. They will take me back to her. She is too stubborn to give up on her investment."
Deon sighed and nestled against Tristan again. "I don't want to lose you," he muttered again.
"There isn't much we can do," Tristan replied.
Deon pondered. "What if we left the planet?" he suggested, brightening. "I could find work somewhere else! I mean, healthcare navigators can work anywhere..."
"Do you have a private starship?" Tristan asked, mildly amused.
"Ah... no." Deon lay down again, frowning. Of course they'd stop him from boarding any public starship with a runaway BOB
"Try to get some sleep," Tristan said. "Staying up all night won't bring a solution." He leaned to close Deon's eyes with butterfly kisses. "Sweet dreams, Deon."
Deon wanted to object, but it felt too good. He relaxed in his lover's embrace and slowly drifted off to sleep.
***
"Officer Gabrysch speaking. We have an address where there was a spike in energy use in the past week. Do you want us to go there or would you rather we passed the info to the Serenaide Labs?"
"Send them to Doctor Sumirasko, head of cybernetics. He is ready for it. Thank you, officer."
"What is this all about, Marge?" Esperanza-Twyla Adolfo Tagami stared at her sister with her eyebrows raised.
"My BOB ran away," Margeret-Shannan replied with a shrug. "But as you've heard, they found it."
Esperanza-Twyla scoffed. "I'm sure you can afford better than a battery-operated boyfriend! You still look much younger than your age, and you've been playing the sorrowful widow for too long! Let me take you out and meet people!"
"I hate people." Margeret-Shannan scowled at her sister. "I never know if they talk to me because they genuinely like me or because they want my money."
Esperanza-Twyla rolled her eyes. "You've become too paranoid. We both married rich men who died quickly, leaving their fortune and no kids to us. Don't you think we have the right to get a wonderful second life with someone else? Maybe someone younger?"
Margeret-Shannan smirked. "Do I smell a young lover, Espe?"
"Yes! Humans are different! Trust me, Marge, find a young man, not a well-programmed android, and you'll be fine!"
"I will not let anyone do to me what I did to my husband," Margeret-Shannan retorted. "What we both did. Now that we're not in our prime anymore, do we really want to give up all this," she waved at the luxurious living room in the great mansion that had been her home for the past thirty years, "for a good fuck with a young man who will steal our fortune? No, Espe, I'm not falling for that trap."
Esperanza-Twyla snorted and glared at her. "Fine. Enjoy your solitude!" She rose from the plush couch and headed for the door.
"My solitude is about to end!" Margeret-Shannan shouted after her. She frowned at the empty living room. Maybe she still had some friends. Yes, she'd throw a party as soon as Tristan came home.
***
Markandeya stopped outside the condo building and looked up. Thirty floors with approximately ten apartments per floor. Three hundred doorbells to ring. In spite of having an artificial body that didn't need to breathe, Markandeya sighed.
That was the place that had had a surge in energy use. Tristan could be anywhere in one of those three hundred apartments. And since he was so life-like, maybe whoever sheltered him wasn't aware he was a BOB.
Markandeya looked around before ringing the first bell. He showed Tristan's picture to dozens of people, but nobody had seen him. Some looked surprised, others suspicious, others asked what the young man had done. He told them the truth, that it wasn't a "young man" but a runaway android, a sentient machine.
He reached the fifteenth floor, glad that his new body didn't get tired like his biological one used to. It was going to be a long day going through all the apartments of the building. Some weren't at home, so he'd have to go back later.
And then knocking on the fourth door of the landing, Tristan himself opened the door. His smile vanished as he focused on Markandeya.
"Hello, Tristan," he greeted. "You're actually the one I was looking for. Is the apartment owner present?"
"He's at work," Tristan answered flatly. "Please don't take me away without letting him know."
"Let me in," Markandeya replied. "I'd like to talk to you first."
Tristan's hesitation was very brief.
"Come in, Father." He moved away from the door.
If Markandeya still had a heart, it would have swelled with pride at being called "father" by Tristan. The emotion was there, though, and he felt sorry he'd have to take Tristan back to that spoiled rich widow.
The apartment was small and tidy. Perfect for one person, or two with little means. It could be perfect for Markandeya himself, if he still needed human commodities. His mind still needed to rest, but he simply switched off the android body when he needed to regroup. Perks of downloading a human mind into an artificial body.
Tristan stared at him, waiting for him to start the conversation. Markandeya looked at the BOB and another surge of pride made him smile at his "son" – definitely one of his best work
s.
"How have you been, Tristan?"
"I'm fine, Father. This place is small, but Deon really needs me and it feels good."
"And Deon does what in his life?"
"Healthcare navigator. He's twenty-five and is struggling a little at the beginning of his profession, but I help him relax when he comes back tense."
"I see. And does he know who you are?"
"Yes, he saw me while I was recharging by the building, away from security cameras, and approached me. He was the only one who actually talked to me since I left Mansion Nine-Brambila."
"How did he bring you in without passing the security cameras?" Markandeya asked, curious.
Tristan smiled. "Fire escape stairs. He told me to come to the fifteenth floor."
Markandeya chuckled. "Very smart, both of you!"
"He says he loves me." Tristan's smile vanished again. "He needs me more than Marge. Can you do something about it?"
Markandeya sighed. "I'm trying to convince her I'll make her an even better lover, but she seems very stuck on you. She might change her behavior towards you, though. I told her that you adjusted to her, and if you'd run away, either she was using you too much or not enough."
"Not enough," Tristan said. "I was bored and sick of being locked in that closet. She even stopped inviting her friends over. Deon would be delighted to show me around and introduce me to his friends, but how can we, knowing Marge is looking for me? We even considered leaving the planet, but we don't have the means."
"How about you come with me and talk to her?" Markandeya suggested. "She might have ignored you because she was unaware of what you really really are. You see, it's not easy for human beings to understand artificial intelligences."
"But we are supposed to adjust to human beings," Tristan said.
"Yes, I know, it's tricky," Markandeya replied. "I have an artificial body like yours, but the mind is still human, and if you compare our thought patterns, they'd be very different. Yours are logical, mine aren't."
Tristan hesitated. "I've seen so many emotions in Deon... he has so much to teach me! Can I stay with him?"
Star Minds Third Generation Snippets Page 12
