better work on your gang,” she said under her breath, and gave me one of her million-dollar smiles—literally, since I knew first hand. I gave it to her with her last plastic surgery procedure. Rose turned, tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder and sashayed her way out of the warehouse.
She glanced over her shoulder when the sun hit her hair and showed off the faint red highlights. Her smile became sincere when she caught me watching her. Let her think what she wanted, it made it easier to work with her. Raising a limp hand in a gesture of good-bye, I returned my attention to the monitors.
Five guests arrived this morning. Four other guests were already here and would be for another few days. I switched channels from the hot lawyer before I forgot why I was sitting here, and found Mr. Hardister, who for some reason had turned in his last two female companions and was now working on his third. The island had a policy that guaranteed customer satisfaction, but Hardister was taking advantage of the policy. I had no doubts. Especially as he sat watching the morning news, remote in hand, with Maria on her knees in front of him giving him a blow job.
I almost pitied Maria. She was one of our more popular companions. I’d done a damned good job mixing her personality chips when I’d created her. Always a smile on her face, and up for just about anything, Maria charmed anyone she spent time with. If Hardister complained about her, I would have to talk to Rose. It would mean that Hardister was abusing policy and simply wanting to switch out companions every couple of days while he was here on the island—and complaining they didn’t satisfy him got him out of paying for extra companions.
“Malachi?” Maggie brushed her fingers over my bare shoulder.
“What, sweetheart?” I asked, turning my attention from my work and adjusting the stool so I faced her.
“The Adams are acting up again.” She made a quirky expression and smiled.
Maggie was best described as a living, breathing Barbie doll, complete with her tanned skin and straight, waist-length blonde hair. And she was beautiful beyond fault, although maybe I was biased.
“Those damned Adams,” I said playfully, and stood, tickling her and laughing when she did.
My companions might be created to offer sexual pleasure, but to me, they were my children. I couldn’t think of them any other way. Putting my arm around Maggie, I hurried over to where two of the Adams were repeatedly walking into each other.
Of all my creations, the Adams probably shouldn’t hold such a special place with me. I knew no one understood why I didn’t scrap them. Hell, sometimes when they created more work than they accomplished, I didn’t understand why I kept them activated. But then there were times like now.
“Hold on to that Adam,” I instructed Maggie, pointing to the manlike android, whose face wasn’t even partially developed. “I’ll grab this one. On my word, face him toward the door.”
“Roger that,” Maggie said, laughing as she jumped around the two Adams. “Why do they do this?” she asked, her tone proof she was curious and not condemning.
Thank God they acted up after Rose left. “Circuit malfunction,” I huffed out, wrapping my arms around the waist of one of them, which wasn’t an easy trick since he kept stepping forward and backward. “Okay, Maggie, now!”
I turned my Adam and Maggie turned hers. I grunted and huffed loudly. Lifting a grown man was no easy task. Maggie lifted hers, the amused grin on her face never fading. She reminded me again why I didn’t regret making my later models stronger than the average human. The two androids, dressed in loincloths like the other companions on the island, walked out of the warehouse like nothing happened.
“Can you fix them?” she asked.
I started after them, deciding it would be best to see what shorted out now before they damaged anything or themselves. “They won’t ever be like you or the other companions. But I’m going to do a diagnostic on both of them now, I think.”
Maggie didn’t say anything. And although I knew she wasn’t programmed to judge, I gave personal thanks anyway that she didn’t. There were times when I thought I understood parents of physically deformed children. They loved their kids just like a parent of a normal looking child would. And that’s how the Adams were to me.
An hour later, after Charles and Phillip helped me carry the Adams to my laboratory, I sent the companions away, and stood in between the tables where the two Adams lay motionless. It didn’t seem so long ago when I first created life, and now here my first attempt at it looked lifeless on the tables.
“Don’t go getting all emotional, old man,” I told myself, and walked over to the computer where I kept my logs on each model.
The Adams were my first attempt, and didn’t have human faces or the ability to speak. I admitted, as I stared down at one of them and brushed my knuckles over his skinlike cheek, I’d come a long way in mastering a human nose. Nonetheless, when these Adams were “brought to life” they were a mile marker in robotics.
I remember that day like it was yesterday, and my excitement when they sat up on a table so similar to this one and walked over to the counter and poured a glass of water and brought it to me. Without the aid of a remote. My staff at the time applauded my efforts, and the next day I was on the front pages of all the national newspapers in France.
“The beginning of the end,” I grumbled bitterly, returning my attention to my computer.
The last thing I expected to be doing for the next decade was mastering my creations and creating companions to offer sexual pleasure.
I typed in quick notes on their latest malfunction, hopping up several times to confirm which wires cross circuited, and then kicked back in front of the computer.
There were several blogs I kept an eye on, mainly my competitors and what they were up to these days. Sometimes spending so many years on this island made it easy to forget the rest of the world was out there. I’m not vain, not at all, but I don’t want to hear that someone is getting the better of me and coming out with something that I haven’t thought of yet.
A box popped up in front of the Web site I was looking at and I groaned.
“I don’t like her,” the instant-message box read, and the statement was followed by a link. Rose wouldn’t leave me alone even when she was on the other side of the island.
I clicked on the link without responding and watched as it quickly opened in front of me. The link was to an article about a law firm in Chicago that had successfully won a lawsuit for a medical supply company that we used. I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands and read about Green, Green and Albert, Attorneys at Law. It didn’t surprise me that Rose wouldn’t like our new guest, without even bothering to get to know her. Rose didn’t like anyone who she viewed as competition, and any pretty lady arriving on the island, Rose viewed as a threat.
“It doesn’t even mention her name,” I said out loud and brought the blog I’d been scanning back up in front of the chat box. Devlin Products was still boasting their latest personality chip. I clicked a few more links, searching where I could to learn how far they’d come with it. “Not even close, my friends,” I said, admitting relief and satisfaction when I leaned back in my chair, clasping my hands behind my head and grinning at the screen. “My Adams are still better than anything you’ve got.”
Rose’s chat box started flashing.
