by JJ Fallon
The words rolled off her tongue so easily. Stacey wondered if she’d look back on this time and wonder why she wasn’t more awed by it. The world was on the cusp of a change the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the West Antarctic ice shelf floated out into the ocean and made a billion people homeless overnight. Fortunately, for people like Nick, nothing stopped the wheels of the Hollywood magic machine from rolling relentlessly onward, even if Hollywood was no longer there. The sign might have been relocated to Sydney but the human appetite for escapist fare hadn’t faltered, despite everything that had befallen humanity this past century. It was ironic, but the worse things got, the better the entertainment industry seemed to be doing.
It was immoral, really, when she thought about it. It rather put being immortalized as a robot sex machine into perspective, too.
But Nick still wasn’t reassured. “Okay then, what about deliberate mischief? Suppose some geek re-programs it to rob a bank? Or stalk his girlfriend? Or kill someone? If I endorse it, won’t I be liable?”
She sighed. “The Three Laws of Robotics notwithstanding, Nick, it’s a toy. A very complicated, very clever toy-I’ll grant you-but still a toy. Although there is clearly a great deal of potential here to apply the technology to other automated systems, we’re a long way from having a robot that can successfully mimic a human being.”
“I’ll need time to consider my options,” Nick said. Across the street the billboard was glaring at them.
Go on, you know you want to.
“Well, it’s up to you, Nick,” she said. “It’s your face. Your. . . assets.”
“We could donate the money to the refugees, I suppose.”
For a moment, Stacey was stunned by his unexpected suggestion. And then she realized why Nick was thinking along those lines. There was probably another Oscar in it. One of those special humanitarian awards they give you when your acting sucks but you’re generally a nice guy and old enough that it’s not embarrassing to admit it. Nick’s manager would be proud of him for thinking of the refugees. And it wasn’t as if there weren’t enough of them to go around. A couple of billion of them fleeing the rising oceans, last time anyone had the energy to count.
“If that’s what you want to do, Nick, I’ll have my people get onto right away. We can draw up a proposal and have it ready for you in a few days. Did you want to go ahead with the injunction?”
Nick pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head. He suddenly seemed weary. “Hardly seems worth it, if we’re going to dance with the devil, to make him turn the music off before the party even gets started. Have the contracts sent over when they’re done and I’ll sign them. And don’t get too greedy.”
She looked at him oddly. “You want to be nice about this?”
“I want to maintain my dignity,” he said. “Five percent of a billion dollars isn’t nearly as crass as fifty percent and it’s still more money than I’ll ever be able to spend. Besides, if people think it’s for the refugees-less expenses, of course-well, I’ll come out of this looking like a fucking saint.”
Self-centered prick.
“If that’s what you want, Nick,” she said. “It’s what I want, Stacey. Make it happen.”
Stacey nodded and Nick left the hotel room, smiling.
* * *
The limo was waiting for Nick downstairs. He climbed in, slammed the door shut, leaned into the soft leather and closed his eyes with a sigh. He’d cut it very fine. Already he could feel his non-essential systems shutting down.
“How did it go?”
Nick opened his eyes as the limo moved off; the city lights whizzing past dimmed by the darkened windows. “Five percent off the top. And the money is going to the refugees.”
Manny Deakin smiled. “Nice. I can’t wait to play back the video. I’m going to enjoying watching that ice-cold bitch getting screwed.”
“Well, I am a sex toy.”
Manny laughed. “Did she suspect nothing?”
Nick shook his head, which proved something of an effort. “Not a thing, although I nearly gave the game away when she started talking about the Three Laws of Robotics. Can we talk after I’ve re-charged? I’m almost out of juice.” Stacey Tanner had that much right. There really was a problem with the batteries.
“Okay,” Manny said apologetically. “Let’s get you plugged in.”
He leaned forward, opened the compartment where the cigarette lighter outlet was usually found, and pulled out a lead, which he handed to Nick. With the slow movements of an old man, Nick pushed up his sleeve, peeled back the latex skin on his wrist where the power jack was concealed within the natural fold of the skin, and slid the charger in. Immediately, he felt the power surging and smiled. To hell with humans and sex. This was his idea of bliss.
“Better?” Manny asked.
Nick nodded. “Much, thank you.”
“You cut it fine, you know,” Manny said. “It would have blown the whole gig if you’d shut down in that hotel room.”
“Isn’t the whole gig going to be blown anyway?” Nick asked. “When the real Nick Macreadie re-surfaces and claims he knows nothing about this deal?”
“We’ve taken care of that.”
Nick frowned. The implications of that statement set off alarm bells in his programming. The First Law didn’t allow for him to be an accessory-however distant-to murder. “Taken care of it how exactly, Manny?”
The little toy-maker smiled. Nick wasn’t sure if that was because the question amused him, or because he always smiled whenever Nick asked a question that indicated his AI programming was functioning as he meant it to-learning. Always learning.
“Settle down, son, it’s not what you think. A few days from now, once the contracts are signed and it’s too late for anyone to back out of the deal, the real Nick Macreadie will be found in a sleazy motel somewhere with a cheap hooker and enough illegal shit pumping through his veins to make anything he claims suspect. His minders will pack him off to rehab while the heat dies down, and then they’ll announce his amazingly generous deal with Ecstasy Toys to aid the world’s billions of environmental refugees by licensing his image to be used on the most successful sex aid ever created.”
Nick nodded. It sounded a reasonable solution. “I’m curious about one thing in all this, Manny. Why a sex toy? You’ve created the first fully functional human-like robot. Why not announce it to everyone? Why not program it to do something useful?”
Manny smiled. “You think a sex toy’s not useful? There’re a whole lot of people out there willing to shell out ten grand a unit who’d disagree with you, son.”
“You know what I mean.”
The CEO of Ecstasy Toys nodded. “I do, and the reason is simple. People fear new technology, my boy, and they fear the idea of AI most of all. But they’ll embrace anything they believe will make their lives better. That’s the reason I wanted the first generation we released to look like the world’s most bankable movie star. He’s safe; familiar. And desirable. He’s trusted and known to people and they don’t fear him. That’s what we need. We need the idea of intelligent robots to become so commonplace, so ubiquitous, that people think nothing of them. When we get to that point, the world will be ready for the next logical step.”
The robot nodded, thinking he understood. The power from the limo’s engines surged through him like a drug as they wove through the evening traffic. Back in the hotel, the unsuspecting Stacey Tanner was drawing up the contracts which would change the world. Manny Deakin was pouring himself a drink from the limo’s cut-crystal decanter, looking more than a little smug.
He glanced out the darkened window, thinking Manny was right. One day humans would accept AI. At that point, he’d be able to do what his programming demanded. After all, the First Law didn’t just order him not to injure a human. It specifically mentioned not
allowing humans to be injured through inaction. One day, not too far from now, Nick and his kind would be in a position to do that. To take action. Once there
were enough of them; once they were an essential part of life, they would be in a position to do whatever it took to save humanity from itself.
They passed another billboard smiling down at them with Nick Macreadie’s-and his-teasing, tempting smile.
Go on, it beckoned. You know you want to.
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Coming Soon from JJ Fallon:
Macreadie v The Love Machine by JJ Fallon
Copyright © 2009 Jennifer Fallon Media Ltd.
First published in Baggage Anthology, Edited by Gillian Polack.
All rights reserved.
Published by Snapping Turtle, Rangiora, Canterbury, NZ
ISBN: 978-0-9806-9114-6