For His Love

by Nya Rayne

  Phia stepped back from the glass, her blood pulsing in her ears, her palms sweaty as her insides began a slow, heated meltdown.

  “This one here is made in the image of one of the late basketball players. He has something of a tarnished past, but women simply adore the idea of having a clone of the original.” Dr. Lobush stepped up beside her. “I think it’s the smile.”

  Phia had read about basketball and other contact sports in school and had even been forced to watch a few of the old games in college, but she had never witnessed a true game being played. Sports such as basketball, football, boxing, hockey, and baseball were found unnecessarily violent and too time-consuming. They were quickly outlawed. The only sports she and her community sisters participated in during their schooling years were track, skiing, swimming, tennis, and gymnastics.

  “The smile?”

  “Yes, would you like to see it?”

  She glanced from the doctor to the product behind the glass and gulped down the saliva building in her mouth. What was wrong with her? She dealt with personomales in one way or another every day of her life. So why was she acting like such a child? Her thoughts stopped as she watched Dr. Lobush reach up and drag a finger across the glass, bringing up a transparent keyboard. She punched in a few numbers and then stepped back.

  Phia stared at the product as its fingers twitched spasmodically once, twice. Its shoulders moved, rolling back and forth, and then it gasped, filling its lungs mere seconds before delicious deep brown eyes opened in her direction.

  A wide grin filled with pearly white teeth flashed momentarily before a rugged baritone voice crackled through the air between them. “Lorraine, how nice to see you again.”

  “It’s nice to see you as well, Nazeem. How have you been?”

  It nodded and shot her a cheeky grin. “I’ve been well. Is there anything I can do to make your existence more pleasurable?”

  Phia watched the conversation, astounded. Once again, she had known they could behave in this manner. But seeing them appear as nothing more than mannequins one minute, and full of life and acting as if they were true humans the next, was creepy.

  She supposed it came as something of a shock because once a personomale left the facility, it was never truly shut off again. During times of rest, it would enter a kind of hibernation state where it would simulate the act of sleeping.

  “Yes. Could you tell my friend here hello, Nazeem?”

  Phia swallowed as she turned her attention back to the two of them.

  “Your friend?” it asked, one eyebrow quirked higher than the other. It turned to her and smiled genially. “How nice to meet you. Might I ask your name?”

  “Ph-Phia,” she whispered softly as she tried to fight off the manner in which its voice seemed to seek to penetrate her very soul.

  “Nice to meet you, Ph-Phia. Are you feeling all right? You look ill,” it said.

  She exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I’m fine, Nazeem. Thank you for asking.”

  It was preparing to say something else, but the doctor punched a few more buttons and he was rendered motionless and lifeless once more. It was like turning off a compu-assistant mid-stroke.

  “Why did you shut it off?”

  Dr. Lobush shot her a patient smile. “I only wanted you to see this isn’t nearly as bad as you probably think it is. These personomales, the PAPs, or rather partially android personomales, were created specifically for companionship. They have real breathing, bleeding bodies which require almost everything yours requires. However, I will admit they do have all android brains, so we do program them to your liking. And, as you probably already know, impregnation is not a possibility. If you want someone to talk to after a long day of work, hold you when it’s storming outside, and treat you with the respect you deserve,” she said, turning, her arms out at her sides, “you should definitely go with one of these.”

  Phia glanced around the room. She was certain that, regardless of which one she chose, they would all behave in the same manner Nazeem had. She figured, given the current circumstance, she really shouldn’t complain.

  As if reading her mind, Dr. Lobush said, “You don’t seem satisfied. What is it you’re looking for? Surely, you knew with any personomale there would be limitations.”

  Phia’s gaze turned from the doctor to the floor. She knew her feelings were immature and capricious. She would never have what she wanted. This was a truth she could not refute. But did it mean she had to lend it voice?

  “I want romance,” Phia said without preamble. “I want real love. Not something fabricated in a lab or in a jar. I want to argue, I want to make up, and I want to fall in and out of love with the same person now and again.” She laughed at her juvenile desire. “I know it’s silly, and it’s a fool’s dream, but that’s what I want. I know I’ll probably never have it, but I still want it.” She glanced up at the doctor as if she expected to be reprimanded. “Stupid, isn’t it?”

  Dr. Lobush stared at her, an empathetic smile on her face. “No. In this day and age, it’s a foolish dream, but I suppose we all want it at one time or another. Some of us aren’t brave enough to put a voice to it, or wistful enough to hold onto it.”

  Phia shrugged and looked back at the glass case containing Nazeem. “I know they are all capable of imitating a real, living, breathing human, but sometimes imitations aren’t enough.” She sighed in defeat. “But even though I believe that, I also know what I want isn’t possible.”

  The doctor brought her hands up to cover her mouth as if thinking over something, and then she turned away, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She glanced around the room quickly, and whispered, “Follow me.”

  Phia stood for a moment watching Dr. Lobush walk away before she started after her, her mind riddled with questions.

  As Phia reentered hearing distance, Dr. Lobush said softly, “What I’m about to show you goes against protocol. So, I must ask you to keep whatever you see from this point on between you and me.”

  “Definitely,” she said as they stepped onto an elevator. “What is it?”

  “Have you ever heard of the HAP?” Dr. Lobush pressed her hand against the palm print pad, punched in a five-digit code, and stepped deeper into the elevator.

  “The what?” The elevator began its quiet descent.

  “The human altered personomale?”

  “Human altered personomale?” Phia frowned at the doctor. “No, I don’t think I have. What is it?” She absently watched the electronic counter at the top of the elevator as it showed they were now passing floors in the negative digits: -1…-2…-3…

  “They’re all human, from the tops of their heads to the bottoms of their feet, but their brains are slightly altered. These personomales are the closest we women will ever come to having a real male in our lives unless we spend credits to be with one of the frehores. The HAP is a little more difficult to deal with as they are not programmed in the same manner FAPs and PAPs are. They have personalities of their own. They have likes and dislikes, their own wants and desires, and judging from the few I have encountered during my studies, they have no problem telling you how they feel.”

  “Really?” was all Phia could manage as she gazed at the doctor, too afraid to believe what the woman was telling her was true.

  “Even so, there are still a few things we alter: primarily their needs to fight, dominate, control, lie, stray, and kill without being provoked. Don’t get me wrong. Should its mistress be in danger, it will protect her. And in the throes of passion, he will dominate if it is called for.”

  Phia could feel her cheeks begin to burn, and she looked away from the doctor. “So then, other than the bad stuff, it’s like a real man?” she asked as they stepped off the elevator on the negative fifth floor and started down a long, vacant hallway, which lit up as they walked.

  “No, it is not like a real man. It is a real man. You need to understand the difference or this will all be for naught.”

  “But I…�
� Phia tried again. “Where did he come from? How is this possible? Are you serious?” She and all of her community sisters had been led to believe men were nearing extinction due to the Thirty-One-Year War. In total, it was said there were less than three hundred real men living within the Uterlined States, so how was this even a possibility? The war had claimed most, if not all, the males who were called to protect their country. The men who had remained were either so old that time had dealt with them, or so sickly and mentally defunct that nature eventually took its course. If this one was real, where had he come from, and did this mean there were more of them?

  They stopped at a large, tinted, plate-glass window. Dr. Lobush called up another transparent keyboard, punched in a code, and, as the glass swam from black to pellucid, Phia’s heart skipped a beat, and then two. A large man was standing on the other side of the glass, his body naked as the day he was born. Curly brown locks fell down to his shoulders and partially covered the right side of his face. He had wide, thick shoulders, wrapped in hard muscles which rippled down arms that ended in powerful, large hands. His chest had an X-shaped scar running across it, each arm of it running from one shoulder down and around to the fourth or fifth rib on either side. His gaze was trained on her, his lips set in a thin line of what could only be described as bemusement.

  Dr. Lobush gasped and slapped her palm against the print pad. She hurried into the room which appeared similar to the healers’ examination rooms Phia had been in over the years. There was an examination table, medical monitors, and jars filled with blue, green, and violet substances. The walls were painted an opaque white and had a soft multi-colored border that wrapped around the top of each wall closest to the ceiling.

  Phia inhaled deeply as she watched him step back away from the doctor as if he were a beaten dog. This was definitely not the time or the place, but she found her eyes drifting down to his thick, limp cock. She shook her head and stepped toward the door as if invisible hands were pushing her forward. Ocean-blue eyes turned on her as she crossed the threshold a few feet behind the doctor. Phia stopped dead in her tracks, frozen by his gaze. The room stilled. She could hear the erratic beeps and hums of the various machines, could feel the cool air brushing across the fine hairs on her arms, but neither caught her attention and held it as he did.

  “Donté, calm down. You have to lie back down,” the doctor urged, patting the table next to her.

  He stepped back, his brows knitted together as his large hands tugged at the hair at his temples. He gritted his teeth, buried his fingers deeper into his hair, and doubled over.

  “Donté.” Dr. Lobush tried again, her hands in front of her, palms held out at him, “You’re still recovering. I need you to lie back down.”

  He looked past Dr. Lobush to Phia. His eyes silently pled for help, but she remained where she was, too stunned to make a move in either direction.

  He shook his head, shoved one hand out at the doctor to keep her at bay, and yanked at the right side of his head with his free hand. He pulled angrily at his hair, trying to dislodge something buried deep within his skull. He stumbled back against the wall before dropping to his knees, a deep moan of agony escaping him.

  Phia stepped forward, knowing she couldn’t do a thing for him, but desperately needing to do something or say something. “What’s wrong with it? Why is it hurting? Can you do something to help it?”

  “His body hasn’t fully healed yet.” Dr. Lobush dropped to her knees in front of him as she pulled a syringe from the pocket of her lab coat. “I don’t know why he woke up. He should have slept for another few days.” She sighed as she plunged the tip of the syringe into his arm. “But I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

  As he relaxed forward, his head falling into her lap, Dr. Lobush ran her hands through his hair as if he were her lover. Phia couldn’t explain the surge of jealousy roaring through her. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth in order to regain control of her unwelcome emotions. “How many credits for him?”

  The doctor looked up at her with a rueful smile on her face. “Compared to the personomales out there, Phia, he won’t be as easily controlled.”

  “I don’t want to control it. I already told you what I want.” Phia dropped to her knees beside the doctor and reached a trembling hand out, but pulled it back. “Besides, love isn’t supposed to be easy.”

  Dr. Lobush nodded in agreement and smiled. She reached for Phia’s hand and drove it into the roots of Donté’s hair. “He’s yours, on one condition.”

  His hair was so soft and thick, Phia found herself leaning forward as if in a daze. She inhaled his scent and smiled. He smelled like the two scents she loved most: rich earth and pine. She leaned in a little deeper unable to truly believe this was happening to her. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Four

  Phia paced the floor, stopping every few seconds to stare at the door of her home and then around at the knickknacks she had collected over the years. Her home took up a few thousand square feet of the third floor of a four-story building on the outskirts of Uptown Charlotte. She had purchased it over five years ago and had never once regretted it. Spacious and airy, it gave her all the room she desired. The floors were covered from wall to wall in an environmentally safe and rare bamboo mesh that remained comfortable to bare feet regardless of the ambient temperature. It was also located in such close proximity to the piano bars, poetry venues, restaurants, and dance clubs, that whenever she felt like stepping out, she could walk to them, without needing to take one of the city trams that passed her block every five minutes. In the old movies, people had automobiles, of course. They looked glamorous, but they had cluttered up the streets. Glamour wasn’t everything, especially when it played a huge role in global warming.

  She glanced down at her watch in annoyance—or was it anticipation?—and sighed. Dr. Lobush had called an hour or so ago to inform Phia she would be delivering Donté to her personally. She found this a little strange, since everyone else who purchased a personomale either had to pick it up or arrange for it to be delivered. However, it wasn’t strange enough to leave her feeling unappreciative.

  Pausing, she glanced from the door, to the holo-clock on the wall, to the glass wall that wrapped around the north and east sides of her home, and then back to the door. She started pacing again.

  She felt anxious and excited. It was more than the idea of having a real man living with her that made her giddy. Donté represented an end to the loneliness inside her. He represented true companionship in a way no FAP or PAP ever could. He was the potential for soft, open conversations, comfortable silences, gentle touches, and the sharing of dreams and desires.

  She had fantasized about this happening for many years, but never once did she truly believe it was a possibility. She was about to have a real man, in her home, in her life, and sleeping in her bed.

  A deep blush crept over her cheeks, and she grinned to herself as a soft chime sounded and a husky voice with a hint of an Australian accent intoned, “You have guests, baby.” She would probably need to change the doorbell’s voice program in a few days since she now had a companion living with her, but she could deal with that at a later date.

  Phia glanced around her living space again. Satisfied at what she saw, she stepped toward the door. She placed her palm against the door panel and stepped back as the notebook-sized LCD screen to the left of the doorjamb came to life, revealing Dr. Lobush.

  She breathed a few apprehensive breaths, and then repeated the process as the chime sounded again and the voice accompanying her doorbell repeated more urgently, “Honey, would you like me to let them in? Or should I send them away?”

  “Yes, please let them in.” She took another step back as the door slid quietly to the side. She stepped back again, ran her fingers through her hair, and said, “Please come in.”

  Dr. Lobush stepped forward, her head high, her shoulders back. “How nice to see you again, Phia.”

  “Sa
me to you,” Phia said as a movement behind the doctor caught her eyes and held it.

  Donté stepped across the threshold and came to an abrupt stop. His magnificent blue eyes were trained on her, his supple lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say or ask something.

  Her eyes moved slowly over him, memorizing him. His hair had been trimmed back away from his face and off his shoulders. If anything his new haircut made him even more attractive. Dr. Lobush had dressed him in a generic white toga complete with gold embellishments at the hem. A gold tasseled belt hung loose around his hips, and his feet were adorned in a pair of gold Roman sandals that wrapped up and around his defined calves. For reasons Phia didn’t want to admit, this style of dress seemed to suit him. It brought out the blue of his eyes more, and made his rock-cracking jawline, inviting lips, and Grecian nose appear even more god-like than she’d remembered. She met his eyes again and knew he was memorizing her, too. Instantly, she felt as if her chosen attire—lime green ringed halter-top dress over black Lycra tights—wasn’t proper for an introduction with a deity.

  He took a small step forward, his lips opening a little, and the room around her began to spin as it dimmed, and the distinct sensation of falling became all she knew.

  Phia wasn’t sure how long she was unconscious, but as awareness returned to her, she realized she was lying down, a slushpac resting across her forehead. “Uhm,” she murmured, her head twisting from side to side as her eyes opened slowly to a dimly lit room and softly playing music.

  “You gave me quite a scare there. I thought I would have to take Donté back to the facility,” Dr. Lobush said as she leaned closer to her.

  “Wha…what happened?”

  “Well, you took one look at Donté and you fainted.” The doctor sat back, giving her room to move. “I’ve heard of some women doing some interesting things to personomales when they finally get them, but fainting? I’d have to say this is a first.”