The Genius

by Elin Peer

“Shelly, honey.” He gave me that parental look of I-know-what-I’m-talking-about. “It will happen. If not next year then soon. You’re amazing at what you do.”

  “Which is why you should trust me when it comes to the natural sex-bot,” I said and raised an eyebrow. “I would also like to add some more fetishes to the programming of Mindy.”

  “Fetishes. What kind of fetishes?” He turned back to the frozen image of the Nman licking Mindy’s toes. “Looks to me like Mindy already has that covered.”

  “Like her predecessors, Mindy only accommodates the most common and basic fetishes; why not expand that to include more? Who are we to judge? And the robots don’t care.”

  Charlie rubbed his chin and chewed on his lips, making them disappear. My mind was analyzing as always and concluding that talking about sex made him feel uncomfortable. In a melodic voice inside my head, I used a rule to remember. A thing you don’t like to hear – will make your lips disappear.

  “You’re not talking about the freaky stuff, are you?” he asked and again his nose wrinkled up a bit.

  I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “These past two weeks I’ve encountered fourteen different fetishes including voyeurism, sadism, masochism, nasolingus, pygophilia, titillagnia, urophilia, katoptronophilia, knismolagnia, podophilia, and a few others.”

  Charlie’s eyes were wide and he blinked a few times. “Could you say it in English?”

  Since he’d invited it, I began a small lecture. “Voyeurism means people who achieve arousal from watching others in sexual situations. Sadists like to inflict pain on others, while masochists like to receive pain. Nasolingus describes people who enjoy sucking on a person’s nose. Pygophilia is one of the most common fetishes. It describes people who like to see, touch, and play with buttocks. I can’t tell you how many of the Nmen touch, knead, and slap Mindy’s butt.” I continued explaining the fascinating kinds of fetishes. “Knismolagnia is for people who enjoy being tickled, while titillagnia is for the people who enjoy tickling others. Urophilia has to do with urination.”

  “Eww.” Charlie scrunched up his face in shock.

  “Katoptronophilia is for people who enjoy sex in front of mirrors, and we already talked about podophilia.” When Charlie looked lost, I added. “Foot fetish, remember.”

  Charlie’s chest rose in a slow inhalation before he exhaled audibly. “And you find this interesting?”

  “You don’t?”

  “No.” He shook his head vehemently. “I find it bizarre.”

  “It’s no different from the Motherlands. Our test groups show similar findings.”

  “Hmm, I wasn’t aware of that.” Charlie rubbed his forehead.

  “How about you? Do you have any fetishes yourself?” I asked out of curiosity.

  His hand flew to his chest and he protested, “Shelly, that’s a very inappropriate question to ask.”

  My eyes fell to his collarbone, avoiding his disapproving eyes. “My apologies.”

  I’d done it again. Crossed a social boundary without wanting to. An awkward silence stretched between us.

  “Ehm, all right then.” Charlie cleared his throat. “I’ll check in with you in a few days again.”

  “Okay.”

  “Keep up the, ehm…” He looked to the film of Mindy and test subject 44. “Keep up the good work, Shelly.”

  “Thank you, Charlie, I’ll do that, and say hi to the others.”

  With a wave of his hand he was gone and that was when I noticed the red light blinking an alert.

  CHAPTER 2

  A Fucking Favor

  Marco

  Two steps into my apartment, my low growl was growing to a shout. “Storm, where the fuck are you?”

  I slammed the door behind me with my foot and stalked straight for Storm’s bedroom banging on his door.

  The deep bass from the music grew in volume when the door swung open and Storm raised his chin in a silent greeting.

  “What did you do to my kitchen?”

  Leaning his head out of the door, Storm looked at the gigantic mess in the open kitchen and shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up in a minute.”

  “How many times have I told you to clean up after yourself? I didn’t agree that you could live here and trash my place.”

  “No one cleans anymore; it’s so old-fashioned. Why don’t you get a Home-Bot?”

  “Do you have any idea how much those things cost? If you want to get one, be my guest, but until you do, clean up your shit.” I didn’t stay around to argue the point further.

  Storm had needed a place to stay after his wife, Gennie, filed for a divorce five months ago. The two of them had been a mismatch from the beginning and after meeting her a few times, I agreed with him that the woman was crazy. The first month he lived here, I’d been sympathetic to his grief, but now my patience had run dry.

  If Storm had been such a messy pig when he lived with Gennie, it was no wonder she had been arguing with him all the time.

  With bare feet and only a pair of pants on, Storm began to clean up the kitchen while I made myself a cup of coffee.

  “Gennie called today,” he said.

  “And?”

  “And she wants me to sign the papers so she can remarry.”

  “Wow. Is she seeing someone?”

  Storm brushed the crumbs from the table down onto the floor and let my old vacuum cleaner take care of it, while he moved over to do the dishes. “From what I hear, she’s been seeing more than one.” His voice was low.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  He turned to look at me. “My gut tells me to fight for the marriage, but I think that ship has sailed. To be honest, I kinda wanna sign the papers and move on with my life. You know, let her be someone else’s problem.”

  “And your pride?”

  “I’m not the first Nman to regret marrying a Motlander. Those women are lunatics. Did I tell you Gennie wouldn’t allow me to burp or fart in my own house?”

  “Yes, you told me.”

  “And did I tell you she wanted me to call her every day while I was at work, and give up meat, beer, and swearing?” Storm shook his head. “I’m not saying all Motlanders are crazy because I’ve met some great ones at the school. But Gennie was an uncompromising and mean bitch.”

  “If it makes you feel better, those issues are normal among the mixed couples,” I pointed out. “I’ve heard some of the same complaints from my friends.”

  “Doesn’t it make you wonder why women like Gennie come here in the first place? For ten years couples have been clashing over issues like these, and by now Motlanders who sign up for the Couples Matching Program should know what to expect from us Nmen.

  “And vice versa,” I said and protested when he put a crystal glass with the other glasses. “That thing is antique. It was a present from Boulder and Christina.”

  “You want to wash it yourself?” Storm asked.

  “No, I want you to stop using it and I want you to wash it in your hands, carefully.”

  Closing the dishwasher, Storm started it and turned to me. “You’re smart not to take part in the Matching Program. For every amazing woman, there’s five crazy ones, if you ask me.

  “At least Gennie and I had good sex while it lasted. My friend Henrik’s wife won’t touch his cock. She says it’s ugly.”

  I laughed. “Maybe it is. Did you see it?”

  “No.”

  Sipping my hot coffee, I joked. “I bet it’s crooked as hell.”

  “Maybe, but she won’t suck him or let him have anal sex with her either. I’m telling you, many of the Motlander wives are prudes.”

  I shrugged. “Sex is new to them. Maybe it’s a matter of building trust.”

  “What are you now, a fucking sex therapist?”

  “I wish. With all the problems mixed couples are having, I’ll bet I could make a lot more money being a sex therapist than a mentor.” I returned to drinking my coffee and after a few minutes of silence, I spoke again.
“To be honest, all your pain does make me happy with my decision that I’ll marry a Northlander.”

  Storm rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because that’s working out great for you, right?”

  He was referring to the fact that I’d already been in three tournaments and made it as one of five champions twice. Both times, the brides had chosen someone else, which I blamed on the fact that the men chosen had both been wealthy.

  “I have a good shot in the next tournament. I’ve been training hard.”

  Storm was kicking at a pair of shoes, moving them to the hallway. “Too bad the bride is ugly.”

  “Louisa isn’t ugly.”

  “She’s no beauty queen either, but I guess with a million dollars as your prize money, you can afford to give her some cosmetic surgery.”

  I smacked my tongue. “Some people are beautiful on the inside.”

  “Right. And you can always turn off the light when you have sex with her.” Storm’s tone was sarcastic.

  “Shut the fuck up.” I gave him a pointed stare over the rim of my coffee cup. “I’d take nice and ugly any day over crazy and beautiful.”

  “Fair enough, but what if Louisa is ugly and crazy? You’ve never spoken to her, so how would you know?”

  “She’s a Northlander, that’s a good start.”

  “And if you don’t win her?”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to wait for the next tournament.”

  “Just remember that you’re getting older. The brides are only twenty-one and you’re already thirty. Chances are they’ll pick someone young and good-looking like me.”

  “Hey, I’m fucking handsome.”

  “Yeah, now, but soon you’re going to grow fat and have a double chin,” Storm teased. “This is your last chance to be picked and you know it.”

  Part of me knew that he was right. The age difference would be too significant if I had to wait a few more years. It was already something that concerned me now.

  “Don’t worry, man, there’s always the Matching Program if you’re desperate to get a wife. Maybe you’ll have more luck with a Motlander bride than I did.”

  “I’m not desperate and I told you, I’m not interested in the Matching Program.”

  “In that case, have fun with the sex-bots.” Storm stretched his arms and gave me a smile. “Speaking of which, I’m running late for a test run of the newest model. I heard she’s phenomenal.”

  “Wait a minute. You got invited to try out a new model?”

  “Uh-huh. I have to be there in forty minutes.”

  I scratched my beard. “That’s odd. Why didn’t I get an invitation? I fucking helped start the test group.”

  Storm threw up his hands. “I don’t know, man. Maybe you’re just not good at sex.”

  “Fuck you.” I flipped him my finger.

  “Then it’s probably the age thing. You turned thirty and they need young virile men to test their bots.” He grinned. “I’m sorry, but you’re a senior now.”

  He ducked when I threw a spoon in his direction. “It’s too bad that they didn’t pick you,” he continued. “You’ve got a lot of spunk left for an old guy.”

  Storm was twenty-three and had been my student for almost a year when he was thirteen. Back then we’d both been thrown into the first experimental school that mixed Northlander boys with Motlander children. He had stayed at the school until he was fifteen, while I’d gone on to start the second experimental school in the Northlands.

  It was only two years ago that we’d reconnected.

  “Tell you what,” Storm said and looked at the time again. “You can take my spot and test the bot.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Come on, I know you want to and I’ve got a bunch of things that I need to get sorted anyway. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “I said no.”

  Storm tilted his head. “Marco, I mean it. You’d be doing me a big fucking favor.” His face split in a grin. “Get it? A fucking favor.” He looked proud of his pun and couldn’t stop grinning. “If they call you in later, I can go for you. They’ll never know that we swapped, and honestly, it’s all run by robots anyway. They don’t give a fuck as long as you’re an Nman.”

  My fingers drummed on the table. I had been tense for a few days and could use the release. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Great.” Storm clapped his hands together. “Just give them my name and if the robots have facial recognition and call you out for not being me, tell them it’s their fault for not sending you a VIP invitation. Remind them that you helped start the testing program up here.”

  I moved when the automatic vacuum cleaner came toward me. “That’s right. I deserve to test that model.”

  When I passed Storm, he patted me on my shoulder. “Have fun, my friend. Test that bot to the limits.”

  “Will do,” I said and opened the front door. The last thing I heard Storm say before I closed the door was “At least sex-bots aren’t prudes.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Awkward

  Shelly

  The red alert indicated that the Nman currently in session had asked for help. As protocol described, the alert automatically dispatched a service bot.

  Researchers like myself only visited this facility on occasion and it was rare for us to interact with the test people.

  I switched over to see images from the cameras in the test room and saw a man standing bent over Mindy, who wasn’t moving.

  The same service-bot who acted as the hostess, and who would have welcomed the man when he arrived, entered the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked with a polite smile and moved toward Mindy.

  “You tell me.” The man raised himself up to his full height. From the way he stood with his back to me, I couldn’t see his face but his brown curls and deep voice reminded me of someone from my past, and that alone made my pulse speed up.

  It can’t be him.

  “We didn’t even get started before she shut down. Guess you can call that a flaw in the design.” He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. Like Mindy, the man was naked. He looked fit and strong like most Nmen, with defined muscles and broad shoulders.

  It can’t be Marco. I specifically made sure he wasn’t included in the test group.

  “If you give me a second, I’ll run a quick reboot of Mindy.” The service-bot didn’t move while it attempted to reboot the sex-bot. On my control panel I could see the system that was linked to all robots in this facility run a reboot on Mindy, but nothing happened.

  “Let me try one more time,” the service-bot said in a friendly tone.

  Again, nothing happened and I sighed. This was the third time this week that Mindy had suffered a breakdown. I wasn’t impressed with the engineers who had designed her, and I already had a long list of improvements I wanted to make before Mindy went into production.

  After three attempts at rebooting Mindy, the service-bot apologized to the Nman. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule your visit for some other time. Mindy is currently unresponsive and will need to have service done.”

  “Don’t you have a spare that I can test?”

  “Not at this time. I’m very sorry.”

  “Can I at least play with one of the older prototypes – you have some of those here, don’t you?”

  I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. That voice.

  “For you to play with a different prototype would serve no purpose. The testing of older robots has no relevance since they are already in production.”

  “I know, but now that I’m here, it’s kinda disappointing to leave without…” He trailed off.

  “Without what?” the service-bot asked and picked up Mindy from the floor like she weighed nothing.

  “It would be disappointing to leave here without a release.” The man sat down on the bed and I gasped when I saw his face.

  It had been ten years but there was no doubt that it was Marco.

  Taking a step back I stared at
him. He looked even more handsome than I remembered, with his long curly brown hair and those eyes that had been full of mischief and challenge when we used to banter ten years ago. The Marco I remembered had been twenty years old and had brought out strange desires in me. This Marco was thirty and had me sweating from the sight of his naked body. With the way he sat leaned forward, I couldn’t see his most private parts, but it still felt wrong watching him like this.

  Don’t be silly. What is visible you’ve already seen when the school visited that beach in the Motherlands. Marco was only wearing shorts then.

  Except it wasn’t the same, since the knowledge that he was bare excited me. Holy Mother Nature, he had packed on weight and muscle these past ten years. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  “We could reschedule you for tomorrow morning if you’d like,” the service-bot offered.

  Marco looked frustrated when he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t, I’ll be working tomorrow morning.”

  The two of them talked about availability while my brain was running in circles. I was tempted to do the one thing I’d promised myself not to do which was reconnect to see if he remembered me.

  It’s been ten years; of course he doesn’t remember. You were just a kid in his eyes and you only knew him for a few months.

  I’d had such a crush on Marco back then, and he’d seen me as nothing but an annoying kid who was too smart for her own good.

  For years after my time at the school, I’d casually asked about Marco when I spoke to Kya, the teacher at the school where Marco and I had both taught as assistant teachers. But six years ago, someone had shared with me that Marco had married and after that, I never asked again.

  I watched in a haze as Marco pulled on a pair of pants with harsh movements that revealed how annoyed he was to have wasted his time.

  Why is he here?

  His name wasn’t on the list, and even if it were, it wasn’t normal for Nmen to have sex with others once married, but maybe sex-bots didn’t count.

  At the same time as Marco closed his pants and bent down to pick up his shoes, I stood in a room not far from him, frozen in an inner battle between desire and reason.