Harley turned to Danny. “You let him fly it? I didn’t get to fly it.” She turned to Candy. “Did you get to fly it?”
“No,” said Candy.
“How come Howard got to fly it and we didn’t?” Harley asked.
“Because Howard is a licensed pilot. And because he was on the stick when those Navy boys showed up and invited us to participate in their cute little live-fire exercise.”
“Live fire?” asked Rory.
“Well, you know, it was just a few hundred rounds and a couple of surface-to-air missiles. Nothing Howard couldn’t handle.”
“First a crash landing in the Salton Sea and then live bullets and missiles?” Canary asked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone is trying to kill you.”
Harley coughed while taking a drink of her cocktail, and the brown liquid shot out of her mouth and nostrils. “Captain and Coke,” she said, wiping her nose. “That burns.”
“What do you say, Howard?” Canary asked. “One of my two pilots has decided to retire next month after my annual trip to Monte Carlo for the Grand Prix. You could come with us. Four weeks should be adequate for a being of your intelligence to learn the systems and procedures.”
“What type of aircraft is it, sir?” Howard asked.
“You hear that?” Canary laughed. “He wants to know the type of aircraft. Quite the discerning creature, this one. It’s a Gulfstream Nine, Howard. A G-Nine-Fifty. Do you know this particular aircraft?”
“Certainly, sir. I read about it recently in Plane and Pilot. Service ceiling of sixty thousand feet, maximum cruise of one-point-five Mach, and a range of eleven thousand miles with the new Honeywell Merlin-Five engines.”
“Which means I can go from Los Angeles to Monte Carlo without stopping for gas,” said Canary. “I also have a G-Two-Eighty-Eight, my first airplane, which is a hopped-up Two-Eighty. She’s smaller and faster but has less range. You’d be flying both aircraft, of course, depending upon the mission. If it’s a domestic, romantic deployment and we’re skipping over to Manhattan for dinner, we take the Eighty-Eight. But if we’re partying in Monte Carlo, or Cannes, or Herzliya, we’ll need the Big Bird.”
“I would be delighted to accept your proposal,” said Howard.
“Very good,” said Canary. “Talk it over with Master Floyd when he is . . . available,”–Floyd and Susannah were feeding one another juicy morsels of pineapple, and remained oblivious to the conversation–“and get back to me.”
“Very good, sir.”
Canary turned to Rory. “How are we coming on the new foresight protocol?”
Danny was soon lost by the technical complexity of Rory’s response when he felt Candy’s hand slide into his lap and caress his penis through his shorts. Her lips nuzzled his ear and her hot breath sent a warm chill through him when she spoke softly, “Speaking of proposals, there’s a rumor going around that you’re going to propose to me tonight.”
The warm chill turned to a cold one. “Oh really?”
“It’s just something I heard.” Candy smiled and focused her attention on her food. But her hand remained in Danny’s lap.
Danny shifted the ring box in his pocket, away from Candy’s hand and his burgeoning erection. What was he going to do? Propose to a robot? If she were a robot, did that make her less real? After all, he was a professional roboticist and he’d taken Candy for a human being. Why should his feelings change?
But still. . . .
Something was different. He had to know. He couldn’t make a decision until he knew for certain.
Maggie appeared at their table and took the empty seat beside Candy.
“How is everything?” Maggie asked.
“Wonderful!” “Excellent!” and “Exquisite!” were the replies.
Maggie smiled and sipped from the glass of white wine in her hand.
“Pardon me.” All eyes turned toward Howard, for it was he who had spoken.
“Yes, Howard?” Floyd replied. Floyd had extricated himself from Susannah, though their hands and fingers remained entwined. Danny could not recall having seen Floyd be so amorous with a woman. In fact, Floyd hadn’t had more than a few dates with any one partner during the entire year for which he’d lived in Danny’s house. Clearly his connection with Susannah was something greater.
“I have a question for Mistress Maggie,” said Howard, “if she does not mind.”
“Not at all, Howard,” said Maggie. “What would you like to know?”
The evening sun cast Howard in a golden light, and his pewter face gleamed. “I heard one of your guests state that you had prepared this food yourself, despite the large quantity. And that any sane person would have sought the assistance of a catering company. Is that correct? Did you prepare the food yourself?”
“Yes, Howard, I did. I’ve been cooking for the past three days.”
“May I ask why? Are you not sane?”
Maggie laughed.
“Extraordinary,” Canary marveled.
“I suppose that after raising five kids my sanity is debatable, Howard,” said Maggie, “though I wouldn’t say it’s related to my choosing to do the cooking myself.”
“And why not?” asked Howard.
“Because I love to cook,” said Maggie.
“Even in such large quantities and for so many people?” Howard asked. With one upturned hand he made an elegant gesture, referencing all fifteen tables and the bevy of guests enjoying their meal. Isaac and Nik were restocking the buffet while Gali, Copper, and Turing served the guests returning for a second helping; despite the rigorous pace, the kids seemed to be enjoying their hosting duties.
“Sure,” said Maggie. She smiled as she watched her children work.
“Would the use of a catering service not be easier?”
“Of course it would.”
“Then why not–”
“You tell me Howard,” said Maggie.
Danny saw the tiniest flicker in Howard’s bright red eyes. He was struggling to formulate a response.
“May I give you a hint, Howard?” All eyes turned to Candy. “I hate to see a robot in distress. Particularly a robot to whom I owe my life.” Candy gazed across the table at Howard. “It’s a matter of pride, Howard. Tim and Maggie could’ve called any of a dozen excellent caterers. But Maggie wanted to do the cooking herself. And the kids were looking forward to running the buffet.”
“It is a sizable task,” said Howard.
“That is precisely the point,” said Candy. “There is great satisfaction to be found in taking on a sizable task and then working hard to accomplish it.”
“I see,” said Howard. “It is not unlike learning to fly Master Cherrolet’s jet,” said Howard.
“Exactly,” said Candy. “Operating such a machine is a large responsibility presenting an endless series of tasks requiring sound judgment and keen reflexes. It’s a lot of work, and yet you would enjoy flying it.”
“With Master Floyd’s permission, I would indeed.”
“That’s a brilliant correlation, Howard,” said Canary, “just brilliant.”
“Making correlations is the highest form of learning,” said Howard.
Canary laughed out loud. “Marvelous. Simply marvelous. You won’t find a more spectacular robot anywhere. Not even in Japan. I’m quite sure of it.”
“What about the new pleasurebots Danny and I discovered at Mechanical Man last week?” Candy asked. “They were so real I didn’t know if I should be turned on or terrified.”
“Amen,” Danny added.
“They’re part of my new line,” said Canary. “Designed to look, sound, and feel real. But they’re designed for one thing and one thing only.” Canary glanced at Laura and winked. “They’re good but they’re nothing compared to Howard here.”
“So why not combine the two?” Danny asked. “Why not take a robot with Howard’s logic and intelligence and capabilities and give it the appearance of a pleasurebot? The pleasurebots we saw looked a bit like Candy.
Long hair, long legs, and big . . . eyes. In fact, how do we know Candy isn’t such a robot? She looks realistic. She eats, she sleeps, she knows how to use a knife and fork.” Danny put one arm around Candy and covered her hands with his as she cut a piece of chicken. “It’s quite impressive, actually,” Danny went on.
“What are you doing?” Candy asked.
But Danny continued, “She even does it the logical way, cutting with the knife in her right hand and eating with the fork in her left hand, like they do it in France.”
“Danny, let go,” said Candy.
But Danny did not let go. “It really is impressive.”
“Danny, stop it,” said Harley.
“Perfect hand-eye coordination,” said Danny. “She never slips, never cuts herself by mistake.”
Danny raked the serrated knife blade across Candy’s left index finger.
Candy cried out. Danny withdrew his hands. Bright red blood ran from Candy’s finger and dripped onto the white dinner plate.
“I’m sorry,” said Danny.
“What the fuck?” Candy shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Danny repeated.
Guests at several nearby tables stopped eating and turned to look.
“An awkward slip,” said Maggie. “Here, come with me and we’ll get it patched up.” Maggie stood and held a napkin to Candy’s finger. The starched white linen quickly turned red.
Maggie and Candy were turning to go when Maggie leaned close to Danny’s ear. “Nobody said love’s perfect.” She led Candy away.
Danny looked across the table at Rory.
“I’m going to get some more food,” said Rory. He stood and left the table.
“Not to worry,” said Canary, “she’s in good hands.”
Danny nodded lamely, then stood and walked across the sand to the bar. He asked for three beers, dropped a five-dollar bill into the robot bartenders’ tip jar, and then walked over to the buffet, where Isaac and Nik stood together looking at the ocean. Danny handed each of them a cold beer. “You got any more of that weed?”
“I dunno, man,” said Nik. “My parents find out I’m dealing and they’ll beat me to death with my surfboard.”
Danny took another gulp from his beer. “So don’t tell ’em.”
“Dude, my mom knows everything that goes on around here.”
“That’s true,” said Isaac. “Once, during my junior year of high school, me and the guys flew to Fort Lauderdale for spring break and I hooked up with this naughty little honey from Yale. When I got home, my mom not only knew I’d hooked up with a college girl, she even knew her name. She’s like the Secret Service.”
“Or the N.S.A.,” said Nik.
“Or the C.I.A.”
“The F.B.I.”
“The I.R.S.”
“Now those guys are scary,” Nik agreed.
“So how much for an eighth?” Danny asked.
“An eighth of what?” asked Nik.
“Of the best you’ve got.”
Nik turned to Isaac.
Isaac shrugged. “He’s a big boy. Besides, it’s his funeral.”
“Unless mom finds out. Then it’s my funeral. I start college in a month. I’d kind of like to live long enough to meet some naughty little co-ed honeys of my own.”
“She’s not going to find out,” said Danny. “Besides, if anyone asks, I didn’t get it from you. I got it from a guy downtown.”
“Got what?”
Danny, Isaac, and Nik turned to see Blackie, Whitey, VanCat, and Kong approaching. It was Blackie who had spoken. “Hope we’re not intruding.”
“We saw you guys checking the surf,” said Whitey. “Looks like a good break.”
“It’s coming in,” said Isaac. “Our dad’s been surfing here since he was a kid.”
“That’s cool,” said VanCat. Two of his hands were in the back pockets of his jeans. His other two hands rested in his front pockets.
“What’s it like having four hands?” Nik asked.
“Chicks dig it,” said Kong.
VanCat grinned sheepishly. “It has its advantages. Besides, you’re the one to talk.” He turned back to Danny, Isaac, and Nik. “His arms aren’t the only thing he had enhanced.”
“Damn straight,” said Kong.
Whitey pointed to the skin tape covering the stitches on Danny’s forearm. “What happened?”
“Knife fight.”
“Seriously?” asked Nik.
Danny nodded. “Candy and I were on a date in Robot City. Some asshole tried to rob us.”
“Did you give him your money?” Isaac asked.
Danny sipped from his beer. “No, I gave him a knuckle sandwich.”
“I’m glad to see chivalry is alive and well,” said Blackie.
Danny turned to Nik. “So how much?”
Nik sighed. “A hundred.”
“You have it here?”
“Not stuffed down the front of my pants. But yes, it’s upstairs.”
Danny turned to Blackie. “Feel like partying?”
“Oh no. I’ve done my time under the bridge. Back in the nineteen eighties, they used to tell kids to get high on life. I didn’t listen, of course. That choice has cost me dearly. But after all these years, after kicking more times than I care to count, I finally understand what they meant.”
“So now it’s all about the music,” said Whitey.
“Listen,” said Blackie, “I don’t mean to intrude but what was that scene at dinner about?”
“You saw that?” Danny asked.
“Everybody did,” said VanCat. “The bloody napkin was hard to miss.”
“You trying to cut off your old lady’s finger or what?” asked Kong.
“She’s not my old lady,” said Danny.
“Maybe not officially,” said Kong.
“But it’s pretty obvious that you and she are in love,” said Whitey.
“With a healthy dose of lust,” added Blackie. “In fact, there’s a rumor going around that you’re going to propose tonight.”
“Jesus Christ, does everyone know?”
“Good news travels fast,” said Whitey.
Blackie continued, “So during dinner we wrote a pretty little ditty just for you. It’s called Fireworks.”
“How the hell did you guys write a song during dinner?” Danny asked.
“Well, for the past three days, I’ve been humming this melody,” said Blackie, “but I didn’t know what it was. Then, when we arrived at Tim and Maggie’s and I saw the ocean and the sunset and all these wonderful people here to celebrate Independence Day, lyrics started to come. I started singing to myself during dinner. Whitey started slapping, K-man started drumming, and Van started strumming. A few minutes later, we had it.”
“Some of the greatest songs of all time were written in ten to fifteen minutes,” said Whitey.
“Usually in the back of a tour bus or in a hotel room,” said Kong.
“Or in bed,” added Blackie.
“Places where musicians spend a large amount of time,” said VanCat.
“We’re going to record Fireworks tonight during the show,” said Blackie.
“Did Tim and Maggie hire you for this?” Danny asked.
“Oh no,” replied Blackie.
“Tim oversaw the design and installation of our robotics,” said Whitey. “It all started as a gimmick for an album cover. But when Tim said he could turn us into real cyborgs, we decided to go for it.”
“What’s it like?” asked Nik.
“The real heavy metal involved some delicate surgery,” said Blackie. “I had twelve operations over the course of about nine months. Whitey had twelve. Kong had eleven. And Van had fourteen.”
“But what’s it feel like?” asked Nik. “To have all that metal in you?”
“Your dad explained it like this twenty years ago,” said Whitey. “It’s still you, but now there’s more. More sight. More sound. More sensation. More emotion.”
“More emotion?” asked Dann
y. “That sounds tough. Like being eighteen all over again.”
“Yes,” said Blackie, “but how alive were you when you were eighteen?”
“That’s true,” said Danny. “But there’s a lot to be said for middle age and the wisdom which comes with it.”
“That is also true,” said Blackie. “Imagine the combination of the two, and you’ll have a sense of what cyborgeoisie feels like.”
“Cyborgeoisie?” Danny asked.
“That was the name of the album we released when we got our metal,” said Whitey.
“See, I was born in nineteen sixty-two,” said Blackie. “So chronologically I’m eighty-five. But biologically I’m in my early forties, and I feel like I’m still in my twenties.”
“We’ve known Tim and Maggie for years,” said Whitey. “They’re really excited about your engagement to Candy.”
“We’re dedicating our song Fireworks to the two of you,” said Blackie.
Danny sipped his beer. “Don’t go dedicating anything just yet. There’s a few things I need to work out first.”
“It looked like you had everything worked out last night on the beach,” said Nik.
“Busted!” said Kong, and everybody laughed.
“So do you have the ring?” asked Whitey.
“Right here in my pocket.”
“May we see it?” asked Blackie.
Danny withdrew the ring box and opened it. The guys all leaned in.
Kong whistled in appreciation.
“One-and-a-half carats?” Whitey asked.
“One-point-six-seven,” replied Danny.
“You aren’t messing around, are you?” said VanCat.
“What do you mean?”
“Anybody who gets his girl a ring like that is obviously in love,” said Kong.
“Exactly,” said VanCat.
“You scared?” asked Whitey.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“With a woman like that?” said Whitey. “Hell no.”
“I’m not scared,” said Danny, “I’m . . . confused.”
“She’s totally into you,” said Nik. “And she’s hot as shit.”
The other guys nodded and vocalized their agreement.
Danny sighed. Somewhere upstairs Maggie was likely gluing Candy’s finger shut. Had he expected white biodraulic fluid to squirt out of her finger? “I dunno, man.”
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