“What was it about?”
Rory sighed. “I’m not sure. I think . . . I think she got tired of me.”
Harley crawled across the bed and knelt beside Rory in the moonlight. “She got tired of you? What kind of fucked-up shit is that? She married you. She took a vow. If you take a vow, you should goddamn well live by it.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Harls.”
“Did you guys go to counseling?”
“I did. She refused. But after a couple of months, my therapist and I agreed we weren’t going to get anywhere without Melinda. Melinda had to participate. But she wouldn’t. So I stopped going. And then I met you.”
“And then you met me.”
“You were fun and happy all the time. Not to mention being drop-dead gorgeous and built like a brick shit house.”
“A what?”
“A brick shit house.”
“What the hell is a brick shit house?”
“I don’t know. It’s an old expression. Tim used it one day when we were having lunch and we had this really attractive waitress. I think it’s one of those things they used to say seventy-five years ago.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means you’ve got an amazing body. Which you do. Look at your legs. And your shoulders are huge. And you have the nicest breasts I’ve ever seen anywhere ever.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry about Melinda. I didn’t know it was like that. Still, you should’ve told me you were married when we met. I never would have slept with you if I’d known you were married.”
“It was for the best. Being with you helped me realize that there was life after Melinda. Plus I knew it was the only way to get closure with her. I knew she’d find out I was having an affair and that would offend her self-righteous sensibilities, which would then prompt the divorce. Even though she was having an affair, too.”
“She was?”
“She never admitted it. Probably because she knew her alimony suit would be damaged if she did. But I suspected she was after Rose was born. She worked late and traveled quite a bit, usually with her law partner Preston Elroy. And they were on the phone constantly. Mr. All-American running back. Asshole. He always wears pink.”
“Pink?”
“Pink shirt with a black tie. Black shirt with a pink tie. Pink polo shirt. I only saw him a few times, but I’m fairly certain that each time I saw him, he was wearing pink. Probably because Melinda likes pink. She even bought a pink shirt for me once. I never wore it.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I sold it on an Internet auction site.”
Harley laughed. “How much did you get for it?”
“A hundred and thirty bucks.”
“A hundred and thirty bucks? It must’ve been a nice shirt.”
“It was. It was a hydrophobic silk and polyester blend with UV-40 sun protection. For golf, she said. I don’t golf. Preston does. But I don’t. I haven’t golfed since that time we all went to Pebble Beach. You’ve seen me golf. I’m terrible.”
“Yeah, but your play on the back nine was superb. We did it in the bunker, remember?”
“I remember. But I was pretty wasted. Tim was, too. If I recall correctly, we drank two bottles of champagne, smoked an eighth of Maui Waui, and had done several grams each of Columbian Snow. I could hardly see straight let alone golf, but, man, was my dick hard.”
“It certainly was.”
“It was exactly what I needed after all those months of feeling like a stranger in my own house, feeling abandoned and alone. I keep hoping I’ll bump into her when I’m out with you, and she’ll see us together. But that probably won’t ever happen. And even if it did, she wouldn’t remember me. I’m not very memorable.”
Harley lay down beside Rory and draped one arm and one leg over him. “You are so memorable. You’re young, good looking, and you’re rich.”
“That’s what Tim said.”
“He’s right.” Harley propped herself up on one elbow so she could see Rory’s face. “Look, you got the shit end of the stick with Melinda. You tried to make it work. She’s the one who chose to withdraw from the relationship and from the marriage. If not physically then certainly emotionally. Which is probably even more painful. But she made her choice. So it’s time for you to move on. When was the last time you were on a date?”
“Tonight doesn’t count?”
“This is sex between friends. Which isn’t quite the same thing.”
“A real date?” Rory squinted up at the ceiling. “Gosh, it’s been awhile. I’d say my last date was with Melinda, before we were married.”
“Okay, we need to change that. You need to go on a date as soon as possible. Who do you want to ask out? Is there anyone you like? A nice girl you’ve got your eye on?”
Rory smiled. “There is one girl. She’s a therapist. But I don’t think it can work out.”
“Why not? If you like her, you should ask her out. You like her?”
“I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Harley sat up and punched Rory in the arm. “You love her! You definitely need to ask her out. Even if she shoots you down, you need to know. So you can move forward, with or without her.”
“It’s complicated, Harls.”
“Love always is.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“If I have to jump back into the dating scene, so do you. Who do you like?”
“Nobody.”
“Bullshit. You could have any guy you want. Riding around on that bright red motorcycle in your little black skirt. I bet you’ve got guys driving off cliffs because they’re too busy staring at your ass to watch where they’re going. I bet you’ve got guys lined up, ready to eat a mile of your shit just to see where it came from.”
“That’s disgusting, Rory.”
“But it’s true. Come on, who do you like? Tell me and I’ll set you up with him.”
“I can get my own dates.”
“I know you can. But this will make it fun. Tell me who he is and I’ll set you up with him.”
Harley cast her eyes down at the sheets, bashful. Finally she met Rory’s gaze. “Danny.”
“Danny who? My Danny? That you met tonight?”
Harley shrugged, grinned, looked out at the window at the moon, and finally nodded.
“Wow, Harls, you’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you so sheepish.”
“It’s dumb, huh?”
“No, it’s kinda cute, actually.”
“Do you think he likes me?”
“How could he not?”
Harley flopped down onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling. “God, when he walked into the pub, I saw him and thought to myself, ‘Who is THAT?’ When he walked over to our table, I got so nervous. And then he started talking to you and he sat down and suddenly we were alone and I had no idea what to do. I shook his hand far too long. And I couldn’t stop staring at him. I was grinning like an idiot.”
Now Rory was propped up on an elbow, smiling down at Harley. “Harley lost her cool. I can’t believe it.”
“I did. Completely. The next thing I knew, I was asking him to take me flying. That’s so presumptuous.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would. He asked where I wanted to go.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I wanted to say, ‘Back to my place’ but I blurted out ‘The Blue Bar’.”
“Isn’t that on Catalina Island?”
Harley nodded. She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “God, I wanted to kiss him.”
Rory noticed Harley absently caressing her breast with one hand, her fingers slowly massaging her nipple, while the fingers of her other hand lightly stroked the tuft of her pubic hair. Melinda had always kept herself clean-shaven and meticulously smooth down there. But Harley maintained a v-shaped patch. The hair was long and soft. Beauti
ful. Womanly. It was one of the many things about Harley that Rory adored.
“He has such a . . . presence,” Harley said softly, mostly to herself, bringing Rory back to the present. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Were you thinking about him tonight? When you were screwing me?”
Harley didn’t respond. Finally, she looked at Rory.
“You were, weren’t you,” Rory stated. “Jesus, Harley.” He turned away and rolled out of bed. “If you want to masturbate yourself into a coma thinking about him while you’re alone, that’s fine. But if you’re going to be with me, then it would be nice if you were mentally here. I put up with enough of that shit with Melinda.”
“I know. You’re right.” Harley sat up and crawled across the bed to Rory. He stood with his hands on his hips, awash in moonlight. Harley knelt on the bed, with her hands on Rory’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ror. It’s got nothing to do with you. You know I think you’re sexy. And I do enjoy being with you. But it’s like you said: I’ve got it bad.”
“So bad that you came five times. While thinking about him.”
“Rory, please don’t be that way.”
Rory removed Harley’s hands from his shoulders and began to gather his clothing.
Harley sat back on her heels, watching him. “Are you leaving?”
“Forgive me if I don’t feel like staying.”
“Please don’t go. We’re having a nice evening.”
“You are. You and your five orgasms thinking about Danny.”
“Rory. Grow up. Come back to bed. Let’s do it again. I’ll pleasure you while you think about your therapist girl.”
Rory paused in the gathering of his clothes and faced her. “Harley, that’s sick.”
“I’m kidding.”
Rory stood in the center of Harley’s bedroom. He held his clothes in a messy ball under one arm, and his shoes in the other hand.
Harley lay across her bed, propped up on both elbows, her legs slightly spread. The bright moonlight illuminated her from behind, throwing strong contrast over the muscles of her shoulders and thighs, over her breasts.
Rory began to get an erection.
He dropped his clothes and shoes, and approached the bed.
Harley spread her legs wider.
Rory recognized the hungry look which came into her eyes. He positioned himself above Harley. His penis rested on the soft tuft of her pubic hair.
“I want you to look at me,” he said. “Keep your eyes open. Agreed?”
Harley nodded.
Rory maneuvered his hips, positioning his body until he was ready to enter Harley. He penetrated her slowly, gently, their bodies glowing together in the moonlight. They kept their eyes open.
Chapter 10
All’s Fair in Love and War
Classical music brought Danny back to consciousness.
He was face-down on his bed, buried in white sheets and pillows and comforter. When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, he regretted it: daylight bit into the backs of his eyes and his skull began to pound. This was why he seldom drank, and when he did it was never to excess. Well, mostly never. Last night’s football festivities at Positronic Pizza & Pub with Rory and Harley notwithstanding.
Danny clamped his eyes shut, dropped his face into the mattress, and reached out for his phone, groping blindly around his nightstand. He found it and answered by feel as he brought it to his ear. He was too asleep, and too hungover, to take a moment to wonder who might be calling at such an ungodly hour of the morning.
“What?”
It was a male voice. “Good morning to you too, precious.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Rory, dumbass.”
“Why are you calling me so early?”
“It’s eleven-thirty.”
Rory lifted his head once more and cracked one eye open. He consulted the red digits of his alarm clock: 11:30. Crap.
Rory continued, “I’d ask how you’re feeling but the fact that you’re still in bed says it all. I hope you used the autodrive on your mighty steed last night, after the herculean amount of beer you drank. Even Harley was impressed.”
Danny grunted a general acknowledgment.
“Why don’t you come by the office and we’ll grab some lunch. I’ll meet you out front around one o’clock. I still want to hear about your blind date, since we never really got a chance to talk last night during the game.”
Danny grunted once more.
“See you at one.”
A distinct beep indicated Rory had ended the call.
The task of getting out of bed was surpassed only by the struggle to make it to the shower. Danny spent a good thirty minutes leaning against the wall while the water nudged him further back to life.
Slightly more coherent, he exited the shower, dressed, and made his way to the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open and Howard’s mechanical butt was poking out of it; Floyd was nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning, sir,” Howard called from inside the refrigerator.
Danny attempted to reach the carton of orange juice, but was blocked by Howard’s substantial girth. “Howard, can you come out of there, please?”
Howard backed up slowly and then stood erect. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” said Danny. “What are you doing with your head in the refrigerator?”
“Conducting an experiment, sir. According to my Owner’s Manual, my cranial structure and positronic brain can withstand temperatures well below freezing before experiencing noticeable lag in function. I was attempting to quantify this through a real-world experiment with actual temperature variation.”
“Then why not stick your head in the freezer?”
“I sought to proceed slowly, in case I experienced any ill effects due to exposure to cold. I wouldn’t want to put my head in the freezer and experience a mental freeze-out.”
“That’s a good one, Howard.” Danny reached past the robot and grabbed the carton of orange juice, then pulled a clean glass from the cupboard.
“A good one, sir?”
“Yeah. You know: mental freeze-out. Because your head would be in the freezer.” He added two scoops of raspberry-flavored vitamin-mineral powder to the orange juice, and watched it effervesce.
Howard merely looked at him, red eyes glowing. If the robot had had eyelids and eyebrows, they would’ve been all the way up to his forehead. Danny could almost hear the positrons rushing through their nano-channels as Howard computed his last sentence. There was still room for improvement when it came to robots and their comprehension of humor and sarcasm.
“Forget it, Howard. Please close the door.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Where’s Floyd?”
“He went out, sir.”
“Didn’t say where he was going?”
“He merely said ‘out’, sir.”
“I think he’s got a secret mistress he doesn’t want anyone to know about.” Danny forced himself to chug half the orange juice concoction at once, waiting to see if it would disagree with him.
“A mistress, sir? But Master Floyd is not married. One cannot have a mistress unless–”
“Call it a secret love affair, then.”
“Intriguing. Would you care for some breakfast, sir?”
“No, thank you. I’m meeting a friend for lunch. Did the garage call about the shuttle?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“You really think it was sabotage, Howard?”
“It would seem so. But let’s hope not. Shall I forward their call to you when it comes, sir?”
The last thing Danny felt like doing was dealing with what amounted to attempted murder. If the garage found anything untoward about the shuttle, he’d have to call the police.
This led him to wonder what the objective had been:
Himself?
Candy?
Perhaps Howard?
Howard was the very first of a new line of advanced bots pre
paring to go into mass production. Floyd had paid a lot of money (and called in a lot of favors) to get the first one. There was more than one anti-robot activist group out there clamoring for the abolishment of all robots. And they all had clever-sounding names which disguised their true anti-robot agendas:
The National Human League, also known as NHL (this made fans of ice hockey none too pleased), which comprised most labor unions.
The Coalition for Peaceful People, or CoPP for short, which was interesting because CoPP had a reputation for hit-and-run attacks on robots found moving about the city without their owners to look after them; Danny found such attacks truly cowardly.
But the most well-organized, most well-funded, most outspoken, and thus most widely known anti-robot group was STERN: the Society Teaching Every Robot Now.
Rumor had it that Les Grossman had ties to the group, although once he’d announced his bid for the Presidency, those ties seemed to have been promptly and decisively severed.
STERN was comprised of people from all walks of life who referred to themselves as Humanists. Humanists believed that robots were an abomination, an evil work born of man’s hubris, and that they should all be destroyed and their existence and production made illegal ad infinitum—forever. And whatever robots were used to serve mankind should be simple service bots with very little artificial intelligence; nothing more than drones, really.
Danny found these STERN people to be even more nuts than the vigilantes of CoPP. Robots were machines. Yes, they had powerful processors which allowed them to communicate with people and with each other. But the very same was true of automobiles and airplanes and telephones. Yet no one seemed to be forming coalitions or activist groups calling for the destruction of any of those objects.
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