“How very distressing,” said Mindy. “Stephen has seldom mentioned his father, but when he does, it’s usually on a positive note.”
“Then he’s delusional.” His eyes flicked from the robot wife to the robot daughters and back. “The old bastard never gave a shit about him—or anyone really.”
The sound of the door opening brought everyone’s attention to the front of the room. Stephen came in. He was wearing the uniform of a San Bernardino County Deputy Sherriff; the upper portion of his body much stockier than it had seemed before, thanks to a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You’re home early,” observed Mindy, quickly stepping to his side, en pointe.
“I wanted to finish the railing before I went to bed,” he said. He looked only at Dakota, though he stuck out his cheek for his wife to kiss. “That way we can have dinner out there tonight.”
“We’re going to get out of your hair for a while,” said Dakota. “I imagine you’ll go to bed after working on the deck. We don’t need to hang around and bother you.”
“Here,” said Stephen, pulling a small piece of notepaper from his pocket and pushing it toward Dakota. “The first number is an untraceable payNETime account. It has four thousand and change in it. The other number is the payment account. Transfer five thousand into it.”
“All right. I have that much between my account and a secret savings account.”
“Good. Transfer the amount over and then don’t use anything else—not even your so-called secret account. There’s really no such thing as a secret account anymore. If your ex has any connection with the law she can find it. She’s not a cop, is she?”
“She’s a lawyer.”
“That’s even worse. Like I said, use only this account.”
“We’ll get going then,” said Dakota, getting up, and started for the front door.
Charity followed.
“Be here at eight,” said Stephen. “We’ll have steaks on the grill and eat out on the deck.”
“I hope his deck is covered,” said Dakota, looking up at the dark sky as he made his way to the truck.
“It will be cool and overcast this evening, but it won’t rain.”
“How the hell can you know that?”
“I don’t know it,” said the Daffodil. “The chance of rain, according to the forecast is only twenty percent.”
In the truck, Dakota fumbled through the settings in his payment app before handing it to Charity. She deftly typed in a series of commands and then held it out for his fingerprint identification.
“You have $6,367.23 in your new untraceable account,” she announced. “I left $2,845.10 in your original payNETime account and have closed your savings account.”
“Why?”
“There was no money left in it.”
“I mean, why leave so much in my other account. We might need it.”
“If you emptied it completely, anyone watching that account would naturally assume that you had established a new one. This way, perhaps, they won’t. In addition, you need to keep your account open to receive your paycheck and your retirement account dispersal.”
“How did you know about that?”
“I have carefully examined your finances,” she said. “It seems as though you should have more money than you do. I was under the impression that threader was a lucrative position.”
“Money’s not important.” He pulled the truck out into the street. “Which way is Wal-Mart?”
“The closest Wal-Mart is more than forty miles away.”
“What? How can you have a town without a Wal-Mart? It’s un-American.”
“What is it you were looking to purchase?”
“Mostly I thought we could walk around for a while. We need to get some clothes for both of us though, I guess.”
“Clothing would be a start,” said Charity. “Might I suggest that it is time to begin some planning, assuming of course that you do not plan to return to your life with Rachel.”
“Are you mentally damaged? Of course I’m not going back to Rachel.”
“If that is the case, what are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You need a job. You need a home. You need a short term plan for your life, and if I might be so bold, it might serve you to start thinking of a long term plan as well.”
Dakota sighed.
“One thing at a time. Which way to the clothing stores?”
They visited a pair of shops sitting between a junkyard and a pizza restaurant. The first was a boutique called Dainty Chix, which featured clothing that would fit anyone of Charity’s size and configuration and seemingly no one else. They purchased two tops for her—a teal one with a design around the neckline and a lemon yellow printed blouse that resembled a man’s shirt, as well as a pair of jeans, a long white skirt, and an all-in-one kind of thing they called a romper. It had a southwest motif print. Charity also picked out a pair of off-white strappy heels with a two-inch platform and a six-inch heel. They didn’t bother picking out underwear for her.
The other shop was Best Man. Dakota, with his runner’s physique, looked good in just about anything. So he bought a pair of chinos, a couple of semi-dressy shirts, and black hoodie. Charity insisted he needed clothing for a job interview, steering him toward the suits. He relented enough to purchase a blue sports jacket. Stopping at a convenience store, they picked up a razor and a tube of shaving gel.
After their shopping spree, they drove to the lake, crossed over the bridge, and pulled out onto a little point of land jutting out into the water. The wind was blowing across the surface, causing little whitecaps across the bluish green. The sky changed from dark to light and back again as laden clouds moved one after another in front of the sun.
“You know you have new messages from Rachel,” said Charity, holding up the phone for him to see.
“Erase them. I don’t want to hear a word out of that bitch’s mouth.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.
“It might have been a one-time indiscretion. Sex is such an insignificant thing for which to end a four-year relationship. Perhaps she can explain why she did what she did. Perhaps the explanation is in one of these messages.”
“I don’t want to hear a reason. I don’t want to hear that it was only sex. I don’t want to hear that it was insignificant. It might have been insignificant to her, but it wasn’t insignificant to me. And I’m the one that matters. Me. I matter.”
“Of course you do,” said Charity, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You matter very much.”
Dakota looked at her for a long minute.
“Why do you care?”
“I cannot help it. I am programmed that way. I am a Daffodil Nonne.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“I don’t know. Having knowledge has to be a good thing though. If you listen to what she has to say, then at least you’ll have that information.”
“No.” Dakota shook his head. “There are some things you don’t want to know. There are some things you can’t un-know, you can’t un-hear, and you can’t un-see. Erase all her damn messages.”
The Daffodil pushed a button on the touch screen.
“There.”
“Let’s go have something to eat,” said Dakota, starting the truck.
“Don’t overfill yourself. Remember, we’re having steaks on the deck tonight.”
“Don’t worry. I saw a Cocoanut Punch down the street from the clothing stores.”
Crossing back over the bridge, Dakota found the smoothie store and parked. They went inside to find, as was typical of the chain, a small restaurant with eight tables and a long line of patrons waiting at the counter. It was quite loud with classic rock music blaring from the speakers in the ceiling and the robot at the counter calling out completed orders. Charity sat down and Dakota stood in line, waiting for his turn. When he reached the fron
t, he ordered a chicken pita bread and a strawberry banana smoothie. He paid from his new account. Picking up a straw and five or six napkins, he sat down and waited for his food.
“This is a healthy choice,” she said approvingly.
“You were right. I don’t want to be too full. Besides, I plan on going for a run before dinner. I eat a lot of chicken, and I thought the banana was a good idea. I probably need the potassium.” He stopped and looked at her. “Programming again? Pretending like you care?”
“Programming is not pretending,” she said. “Programming is at the very heart of what a Daffodil is. It’s part of our very makeup. It’s as important to us as your belief system is to you. Make no mistake—I can pretend to care if I wish.”
“How would a person know if you cared or were pretending to care?”
“Why would it matter to a person?”
“If your programming is so important to you, then it matters. So it matters whether it’s real or not. You don’t go telling someone that you’re theirs and theirs alone and then fuck some other guy right in my bed!” He stopped, aware that some of the nearby patrons were looking at him. He didn’t turn to look back at them, but took a deep breath.
“Athena Pita and Sunshine Smoothie,” called the robot at the counter.
Dakota got up and picked up his food. He sat down and unwrapped his straw, not looking up, sticking it into the precut target on his drink lid.
“Are we going to stay together?” Charity asked.
He looked up into her enormous eyes. Her face was so open, so innocent, and so honest. Whoever had designed her had done a sublime job.
“I think I would like it if we stayed together,” he said slowly. “Maybe I need someone to take care of me right now. Maybe I need an babysitter, a nanny, and a chaste companion.”
“Very well. I am anything and everything you need me to be. I will remain your chaste companion. I will not perform any sexual activities with anyone as long as you own me.”
“Not even if somebody orders you.”
“A robot can’t disobey the orders of a human. That’s a violation of the third law of robotics.”
“I know better,” he said. “Don’t forget—I’m a threader. I know you Daffodils play fast and loose with the robotics laws.”
She tilted her head in the way that indicated she was thinking or connecting to the Infinet.
“Very well,” she said. “While you own this unit, I will not have any sexual relations with anyone, even when so ordered.”
Chapter Four
Returning to Stephen’s home after lunch, Dakota left Charity with Mindy and, after a quick change, went for a run. He ran east and then followed the northern coast of Lake Baldwin. Before he realized it, he was halfway around it, with had another five miles ahead of him, whether he continued or turned back. When he arrived back at the house, he was exhausted.
He shaved and took a shower and then sat back on the bed while Charity massaged his feet.
“You shouldn’t run as far until your shoes are broken in,” she advised.
“You’re probably right,” he replied, closing his eyes.
“Would you like me to sing you a song?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It might be soothing.”
He opened his eyes again and looked at her.
“Not with your voice. The only song that would sound right with you singing it would be Boop Oop a Doop, and I don’t think that would be very soothing.”
She shot him a frown and then said, “Then I’ll tell you a poem.
“I wandered lonely as a cloud,
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of lovely daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Singing and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
among the porcelain and the clay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
And so enlightenment distills,
And dances with the daffodils.”
By the time she was finished, Dakota was asleep. It seemed like only a couple of minutes before she gently shook him awake.
“It’s time for dinner.”
Slipping on his shoes, he followed her to the living room and then out the sliding glass door to the deck.
“Holy shit.”
“Nice, isn’t it?” asked Stephen.
“Nice? It’s the fucking Versailles of backyard decks.”
Constructed of redwood planks, stairs connecting three levels, the deck was half again as large as the living room. The upper deck featured a couple of redwood lounge chairs and a large astronomical telescope aimed at the sky. The middle was set up with two round tables with umbrellas above and chairs around them. Along the side of the lowest level was an outdoor kitchen, complete with refrigerator, sink, and large gas grill.
“Get comfortable,” said Stephen. I’m just throwing on the steaks right now. Fifteen minutes till we eat.”
“Would you like a cocktail?” asked Mindy, holding up a cocktail shaker. “I’ve made martinis.”
“No soda though, huh?” said Dakota. “Just some water please.”
He sat down at the table and Charity sat next to him. The robot daughters were sitting on the edge of the deck, playing jacks, while the robot son was helping Stephen grill. Mindy returned and gave a bottle of water each to Dakota and Charity. As Stephen took the meat off the grill, his wife set out a salad; two steaming baked potatoes, and several slices of hot bread. It seemed an awfully small amount of food for such a large group, but then they weren’t all going to eat. By the time the two thick, juicy steaks were set on the table, the other food had been divided between Dakota’s plate and Stephen’s.
“Perfect medium rare,” said Dakota, as he sliced into his steak.
“Of course.”
“Stephen is an excellent grill master,” said Mindy.
The three children all bobbed their heads in unison.
“What do you think about the deck?” asked Stephen.
“It’s a great deck. It’s the kind of deck that Dad always talked about building.”
“I know, right?”
“Stephen designed it,” said Mindy.
“Mindy actually designed it from my description,” said Stephen. “She even listed out all of the individual pieces and their measurements for me.”
“Yes, robots are handy. I mean… I’m sure she’s handy to have around… as a wife.”
“Are you thinking of moving to Big Bear City?” asked Mindy.
“It’s a great place to live,” said Tag.
“They have nice parks and excellent schools,” said one of the girls, marking the first time that Dakota had heard either one of them speak more than a single word.
“Oh, do you go to school?”
“Of course not,” said Stephen.
“The children are homeschooled,” said Mindy.
“Of course. No, I don’t think we’ll be staying.”
“Dakota needs to find a position in which he can reach his potential,” said Charity.
“Yes, and I need a job too,” he said, smiling at his own joke.
“Sometimes they hire threaders at the Sherriff’s Department,” said Stephen. “I could check an see if there are any openings.”
“I’ll let you know.”
When they finished eating, the robots all retired into the house, leaving the two men on the deck.
“Great meal,” said Dakota.
“Yeah, thanks. So, I think this is as good a time as any to talk. What’s going on with you?”
“There’s really not much to tell. I was living with this girl. I thought it was tr
ue love, but I caught her cheating on me, so I left. I was pissed, so I took a bunch of her stuff and donated it to GoodWorks.”
“Illegal,” said Stephen, nodding. “But at least you didn’t shoot them. I’d say she deserved it. Use the account I gave you and in a few days, she’ll give up looking for you, I would think.”
“Probably.”
“So how’s your mother?” asked Stephen.
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Four months ago. She’d been in a home for the past five years. She had Alzheimer’s. For the last two years she didn’t even remember who I was.”
“Shit. That’s really tough. I’m sorry. Those places are expensive. If you had let me know, I could have helped pay for part of it.”
“She was my mother. Her social security and her pension paid for about half.”
“She actually treated me very well,” said Stephen. “I didn’t appreciate it at the time. First I was so unhappy because I had lost my own mother. Then I was upset because Nora drove my father away.”
“You’re fucking kidding me. She didn’t drive him away any more than your mother drove him away. He ran away—chasing a fucking skirt. He was a worthless piece of shit that never did anything for anybody and the only two things he left us were his genes and the inability to maintain a relationship.”
“That’s not true. He was a good man. He was a good father. I remember him before he left Mom. We had fun. He took me to the see the Angels. He took me to Knott’s. He built me a swing set.”
“Yeah, well I guess I just got shit on then, because I didn’t get any of those things.”
Stephen was quiet for a minute.
“Yes, I guess you didn’t get what I got. He was different after he left Mom. That doesn’t mean we can’t… what you said—maintain relationships.”
“It must mean that. Look at you. You have a robot wife and robot kids.”
“I… well, I never really wanted kids. They just grow up and disappoint you. As for Mindy… well, it’s just easier.”
“Easier than a relationship with a real person,” said Dakota. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Being married to a real person is work. Even living with another person is real work. Did you even have a serious girlfriend before you custom ordered a lover?”
His Robot Girlfriend: Charity Page 4