Page 15 of CHOICE Lover
The unit’s eyes narrow as it considers. “I’ve done as you’ve instructed. They believe I’m you.” It grins brightly, pleased with its own response.
He shakes his head. “No, I mean, what do they think of me? Of my company? How do they act toward you, thinking you’re me?” Zorg that’s convoluted.
The unit’s smile is gentle. “I see. Two of the three FRIENDS are quite taken with you and often invite you to join them for unrequired FRIENDS appointments. The other is a little less interested, but still very respectful.” The unit stands and approaches him. It places a warm hand on his shoulder. “As your manupartner, I don’t want to overstep, but is something else bothering you?” Though it was made with his DNA, for a second it feels as if it is his brother standing before him, imploring. His heart squeezes, and suddenly, talking to the mirror seems entirely inadequate.
Perhaps that’s why he says, “There’s a woman.” The unit nods encouragingly. “She thinks CHOICElover and our mission is horrific. She thinks I’ve been with manupartners so long that I can’t . . .” Technically, she said,Can’t get an actual woman to spread her legs for you? but he certainly isn’t going to say that. “. . . she thinks I can’t attract a real woman.”
“And this woman’s opinion bothers you because?” the unit asks.
He sighs. “I don’t know why I care whatshe thinks. It . . .”
The truth is, her accusation stung—what, his male pride? Because it questioned his purpose for existing? Or was it her general disapproval of him that chafed? Why does he even care if some woman from four hundred years ago doesn’t like him?
“. . . it bothers me that she doesn’t understand my reasons. It’s my responsibility as owner to embody our mission, to demonstrate thatYourCHOICEforcompanionship has never been easier. What’seasyabout dating a real person?”
The unit’s features remain placid as it waits for him to continue. He clenches his fists as his agitation rises. Why is he expecting some type of reaction? Manupartners are programmed for unquestioning obedience and agreement. He shouldn’t blame the thing for being a little stilted. Robotic, even. The unit perfectly illustrates why he allowed the experiment that led to Electra.
If they could select for individual idiosyncrasies, the units might feel more human without the complications of actually being human. Look at where it landed him: with a woman-shaped dilemma. A woman he’s currently responsible for—because her existence is his fault—who doesn’t believe he’d be able to attract a real human woman. Which brings him full circle and back to the manupartner staring at him.
“With every other aspect of life customizable to one’s preferences, people shouldn’t have to settle for less than a perfectly agreeable partner. CHOICElover stepped in and offered an ideal solution so they no longer had to. You see how people react to us. They think I’m a trailblazer. A modern-day hero who provides a valuable service to society. I could probably garner the attention of any number of real women.”
“But you want her attention,” the unit observes.
He runs a hand through his hair, starting to pace. “No.”
“Then you want her to understand that other women will want you?”
Is that it? It doesn’t feel right—not entirely. His brow furrows. He turns the accusation over in his mind.Can’t get an actual woman to spread her legs for you?What is it about that question that bothers him?
Even by modern standards, he’s an attractive, successful man, so he assumes the answer is yes. He could indeed get an actual woman tospread her legs, as she so vulgarly put it. But he hasn’t even attempted anything, casual or not, with a real woman in . . . he can’t remember. He’s always had a manupartner—at least since they developed the first prototypes. He’d been 31, and while he’d never had a girlfriend like Jerme, he still had needs, so he fulfilled them as his body required. But that was almost a century ago. Does it even count?
“That’s not it,” he finally replies. Again, it’s not like he cares. As far as he’s concerned, her existence is only interesting because of the scientific insight she’s uniquely poised to provide.
His device pings. There’s a message from Tommy:Where did you go?
He nods to the manupartner. “We’ll continue this discussion later. Your next FRIENDS appointment is tomorrow. How’s your fuel supply?”
The unit opens the closet, which displays a dozen nutrition packets. With his m-volt, he shoots Tommy a quick message to order more before slipping out the door to meet him in the living room.
“Any luck?” he asks. The soundproofing in the unit is so good, he wouldn’t be able to hear the shower. He only knows she hasn’t taken one before today because of the water usage monitoring report all MSP citizens get in their inbox every morning. And her rumpled physical state.
“She’s in the shower.” Right as he’s about to release a sigh of relief, Tommy continues. “As your personal assistant, I’m obligated to inform you that the poor woman in that room isgrieving the loss of everyoneshe’s ever known.” Tommy says that last part in a poor imitation of a woman’s voice. “As she was speaking, I queried DumBot for a more detailed explanation. Trust me when I tell you the experience sounds ghastly! Imagine losing your favorite aesthetician!”
Res6 winces, directing his attention to the particle panes. She mentioned that. After the seemingly never-ending pain of losing Jerme, he wasn’t too keen to ruminate on the concept of grief, much less to dwell on it. As far as he’s concerned, he’s done with grief for the duration, so she’s going to have to deal with it on her own, much like he did. With a thought, the particle panes switch to a sun-kissed meadow with a gentle stream meandering through it. He takes a moment to observe the sway of the vegetation—
“How am I supposed to do my job if you aren’t even listening to me?” Tommy asks.
The image on the particle panes dissolves abruptly, leaving a view of the roofs of the other A Quadrant towers. The smog is so dense he can only see a few structures beyond the adjacent building. The sight does nothing to settle his discomfort.
He turns to Tommy, who has picked up the remote. While Res6 could simply reanimate the panes with a thought, his assistant is holding the remote with a defiant look that says he is prepared to turn them back off just as quickly.
“I was enjoying that scene,” Res6 says, wincing at the petulance in his voice.
“If you want to keep hernaturea secret, you need to take this seriously. She said staying trapped in this unit will not make her happy, so that isn’t an option. I think encouraging her adaptation is your best strategy.” Tommy turns toward the empty particle panes, wearing a disapproving expression—likely aimed at him.
“If you’re so concerned, I’ll send her to wage a hostile takeover ofyourliving quarters.”
Tommy chuffs. “Absolutely not. As you’ve mentioned several times, she’s your responsibility. As your assistant, I’ve done my part. You could have at least shown her how to use the tablet, which I did, along with giving her access to a few harmless chat rooms and some history lessons. Oh, and she asked about books, so that should keep her occupied for a while.”
