The Kubic Kat
Page 12
He was pleasantly surprised by the food, and the atmosphere was such as to lead them to feel comfortable in each other’s presence. He discovered that Fulvia had a wickedly perverse wit, and seemed to relish every innuendo no matter how slight, nor how extreme. He found himself laughing with her almost continuously.
The restaurant featured a succession of belly dancers, and whenever one came to their table she would pay for them to dance in front of him, then tease him mercilessly about their charms, asking him what he liked about this one, or what was the best feature of that one. “None of them can hold a candle to you”, he had said, and he had meant it.
She seemed to sense that he was being truthful, and came at him across the table. The dancer laughed at their antics and then spun away to another table. By the time Mr Smith had come up for air he had to wonder why they were not thrown out on the street for their outrageous behaviour, but apparently it was not that unusual for the patrons of this establishment to go a little wild.
He called for the cheque, and paid. And then they were on their way back to her apartment, the buggy long forgotten, and with it, all sense of propriety had been lost.
The next morning he made some more headway with the blocks.
He had awoken with Fulvia’s arms wrapped around him, and her breath warming his neck. She was snoring softly, and he found the delicate noise somehow comforting and fitting.
He had eased out of her embrace and gone in search of the shower.
He was rather worried that the bathroom devices might be less than happy at his unexpected presence, but instead they seemed to be rather pleased. Apparently they felt that she did not have enough companionship.
There was no easyAid mirror, but the shower and toilet were both ‘smart’.
When he got into the shower it asked him, rather impudently he felt, if it should tell the digiSleep to wake Fulvia so that she could join him. He told it to let her sleep. It was Saturday, and they did not need to go to work.
The shower informed him that it felt she would enjoy sharing the shower with him, but he stated that he would prefer to give her breakfast in bed rather than rouse her early. The shower told him that he was hopelessly romantic, but that would work too!
He hoped that was true. But he did feel rather guilty about Sally.
As he finished drying himself in the shower’s warm dryMatic breeze he realised that he had not heard from the blocks since arriving at Fulvia’s house to take her to the restaurant. They had left him alone.
But then, as he stepped out of the shower, ready to face the cold, hard world, the blocks had come back.
“You are still a robot.” They had said. His breezy mood evaporated. Damn them. Why could they not leave him alone for a few hours?
“We did leave you alone. We left you alone for the entirety of your evening with Fulvia. And we left you alone to sleep. We even left you alone to shower. But now, now there is work to be done.” They paused as if in thought, then continued, “And you are still a robot.”
"Why do you say that I am a robot?"
"Because you are a robot."
"What makes me a robot?"
"A robot is a machine, programed to perform a particular task or tasks."
"But I am not a machine! I am made of flesh and blood."
"Nonetheless, you are a machine. You are simply of the organic rather than the synthetic."
"That still does not make me a robot?"
"Yes it does. You are programmed. You are controlled. You are, in every meaningful sense of the word, a robot."
He replied, with as much irritation in his voice as he could muster, "Of course, you are right! I am nothing but a stupid robot!"
The blocks seemed discouraged, “Why do you refuse to accept that you are a robot?"
"Because I do not feel like a robot, I do not feel like an automaton!"
The blocks paused, then resumed: "So, do you still believe all that you are told?"
"Why of course I do!" he said, "After all, I am not some kind of revolutionary!"
"Then, perhaps you should be!" whispered the voice, into his ear.
Part 6 - Oppression