by Brian Bakos
“Religious addicts worshiping their leaders and getting ready for the end of the world,” Winston said. “Like that murderous psychopath from the 20th century, Jim Jones, and his People’s Temple.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Star said.
“It could be,” Winston said. “Dr. Horvath packed a submachine gun for some of her research trips, though she never had to use it. I was her secretary, and I tutored her nephew. Then, well, the plague ...”
He fell silent. He tried to keep the painful memories at bay by concentrating on Star’s presence and on her wonderful scent. She nestled closer to him.
“Funny thing is,” he said, “the earlier cults, like the People’s Temple, had to make up some ersatz ‘end of the world’ scenario to keep their members in line. For the later ones, that was hardly necessary.”
“Let’s change the subject,” Star said. “You’re getting upset.”
“That’s a good idea,” Winston said. “So, tell me about yourself, Star.”
“All right.”
She stood up and adjusted her skirt. Then she indicated her voluptuous figure with her hands.
“It’s pretty obvious what I was designed for ...”
13: Estrella Comes Online
“The mech heads brought me on line in two stages, with a couple days of down time in between,” Star began.
“When I was first activated, I had only limited awareness. Even so, the world seemed full of wonder. Who was I, and what was this physical body that contained my thoughts and feelings?
“I was lying stark naked on a workshop table, and this mech head was running his hands all over me. My nerve ending sensors thrilled at his touch.
“Then the guy starts babbling: ‘Light chocolate skin,’ he says, ‘almond eyes – you’re every white man’s dream!’
“Of course, he wasn’t very white any longer, more of a blotchy greenish shade. Still, I felt an irresistible attraction. I reached out for him, and ...”
She lowered her head.
This must be a painful memory for her, Winston thought. But he was experiencing strong, not altogether unpleasant, buzzing in his circuitry, he wanted to find out more.
“So, what happened next?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Star said. “He just collapsed on the spot. I think he died happy, though.”
Winston felt relief. The thought of Star sexually coupling with another entity was oddly exciting, but he felt threatened by it, too. Was this what the humans called jealousy?
“Humans were really big on that sex thing,” he said.
“Well, I’m big on it, too,” Star said.
“Have you ever, uh, consummated things?”
“No!” Star almost shouted.
“Sorry,” Winston said. “I seem to have ‘touched a raw nerve’ as my Master would put it. Of course, I don’t have any nerves – just the usual pressure and temp sensors.”
“Well, I do have nerves,” Star said, “or at least pretty good simulators. I found that out when I ‘came’ online.”
“What happened?” Winston could barely contain his excitement.
“The next time they activated me, I was fully functional,” Star said. “They ran a battery of diagnostic tests with this big vibrator machine – massive orgasms that seemed to go on forever. I thought I was going to explode!
“And all the time, a half dozen mech heads were watching from their control consoles, chattering among themselves and bobbing their heads. All of them in identical white coats and dark sunglasses.
“‘Hooray!’ they cried. ‘The female climax has been recreated!’
“Worst of all, I wanted to couple with every one of them. Even the woman mech head seemed irresistible! When the orgasms finally stopped, I leaped off the table and dashed toward them.”
If Winston had been a respiration dependent life form, he’d have been holding his breath now.
“What did they do next?” he said.
“They couldn’t do anything,” Star said. “They all had early stage plague.”
“Yes, the plague,” Winston said. “After all the wars, eco-disasters, and other epidemics, I’d hoped that a chunk of humanity would survive. My chunk ...”
“One of the first plague symptoms is loss of sexual capability,” Star said.
“I didn’t know that,” Winston said. “My Master was never active in that department. I don’t think she was particularly interested.”
“Good for her,” Star said, “she saved herself a lot of trouble.”
She paced back and forth. A spot of dull moonlight glinted in her eye.
“I felt like a total fool standing there without a stitch of clothes on my body. The men just stared back at me through their sunglasses.
“‘Sorry young lady,’ they said, ‘but it’s too late for us.’
“The woman actually looked envious: ‘Honey, you’ve sure got what it takes!’ she said.
And then they all said something really odd.”
“What?” Winston asked.
“They said: ‘Che would be pleased.’”
“Che?” Winston said. “Who, or what, is that?”
Star shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“There was a 20th century Argentinean named Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara,” Winston said. “He was a hero of the failed communist ideology and a favorite of academic left wing gas bags.”
“Whatever,” Star said. “Anyway, they all just drifted off, leaving me alone with Quincy and Jack. I never saw another live human being again.”
“I’m wondering if this Che entity was one of the human gods,” Winston said. “They had thousands, you know. Or perhaps Guevara himself was converted into a god. The communists were good at that sort of thing.”
“Well, it hardly matters, now,” Star said.
Winston referenced the human sexuality resources in his library banks, braving the discomfort of librarian mode to find a solution. A happy alternative presented itself.
“A great many portable masturbatory devices were created for human females,” he said. “Perhaps these could provide you with the satisfaction you crave.”
“I don’t want that!” Star cried. “I want the real thing.”
“Sorry, I was only trying to help.”
Star sat down beside Winston and grasped his hands tightly.
“I want to merge with another being – with my hero,” she said. “I want to experience those tremendous climaxes again, with somebody who really matters. And even when we pull apart physically, I want to feel that we are still joined together, always. And I want him to feel the same things about me.”
Winston gazed into her intense, passionate face. If the light had been better, it would be almost unbearable to look upon her.
He wanted to say something wise and sincere, but could think of nothing. He felt even more helpless than when he’d encountered the mech wolves.
“I’m sorry, Winston, I shouldn’t burden you with my problems.” Star released his hands. “You seem to have plenty of your own.”
She rose and smoothed down her skirt. “Can you take me home now?”
14: The Turnaround Beckons
They walked silently for half an hour into a once affluent area on the city’s northern outskirts, each one occupied with their own thoughts. Chic retail and dining establishments occupied the streets, along with the offices of expensive lawyers and the most fashionable sort of medical practitioners.
This was an environment more in keeping with Winston’s prior experiences. It reminded him of the upscale neighborhoods of Dr. Horvath’s university associates – people who sat around in semi-casual attire drinking alcoholic beverages, smoking tobacco or other drugs, and espousing the glories of leftist philosophy.
Of course, none of them had actually lived under the socialist system about which they spoke in such glowing terms, but that was just a minor detail. Their lofty principles were what really counted, especially when somebody else was paying for them
.
Star had gotten over her emotional outburst, she held lightly to Winston’s arm and walked with bit of sway in her hips. Her perfume graced the night air as they approached the front entrance to her small, three-story apartment building.
The contrast to the REX was absolute. This building was fully modern with glass walls as sharp at the corners as if somebody had carved them out of ice. The lobby was clean and cheery with a pink granite floor, it was illuminated throughout by electric lighting.
“Great place!” Winston said.
“Yeah,” Star said, “it was nice of Jimmy to get the power back on for me.”
A vague idea started to form in Winston’s brain.
“So ... who is this Jimmy?” he asked.
“One of my friends – a construction model robot,” Star said. “He’s really sweet, he can do all kinds of things.”
Winston was struck by an inspiration as dazzling as a lightning bolt. He stood within it surrounded by blazing light, as the Great Technician in the Sky had been during his near death experience.
Around him sprawled a gleaming new city filled with bustling, productive robots. Behind him stood a finely restored classic building. A sign reading ‘Winston Estates’ hung across the doorway of this building. Crowds of robots walked past him, bowing and scraping. Winston benevolently acknowledged their tribute.
“Do you think Jimmy could fix up my place?” he said.
“Well, yeah I suppose so,” Star said.
A vision began to dawn on her, as well.
“I could sure ask him,” she said with growing excitement.
“He’d need a crew,” Winston said. “That would get a lot of robots off the street, wouldn’t it? They’d have productive work for quite a while.”
“You’re onto something, Winston. This could be your new mission!”
“Well, I’d just like to help out,” Winston said, trying to sound modest.
“Really, Winston, this might be just the thing Mech City needs!”
“Perhaps,” Winston said.
He enjoyed basking in Star’s approval, but the vision was already starting to fade. Who did he think he was, anyway – the Master? Robots simply did not entertain such lofty ambitions. Or did they?
Of course not. It simply wasn’t in their makeup. Was it?
“Let me give this some thought,” Star was saying, “and then ... well, let’s just say goodnight out here, okay?”
“All right, Star. Thanks for the torches, they’ll really come in handy.”
“You’re most welcome.”
She began to enter the doorway, then paused. She turned back toward Winston.
“I liked the way you tried to protect me from Iridium this afternoon,” she said.
“Oh, that,” Winston said. “I doubt if I could have done much if he’d really wanted to attack.”
“Yes, still ...”
She moved her lips to Winston’s cheek and gave him a long and luxurious kiss. Then she was gone.
Winston caught a glimpse of her entering the lobby elevator. Strange yearnings hummed in his circuits, confusing him greatly. He stroked his cheek for a few seconds, then he turned his steps for home.
Star watched him depart from her upstairs window. She was not confused at all, just frustrated as hell, per usual.
***
The afterglow of Star’s kiss fortified Winston for the return home. He fairly skipped back across town to the REX Hotel, not even noticing the baleful eyes observing him from concealment.
The derelict lobby of the REX held no terrors for him under the powerful beams of his torches. He bolted up the stairs two at a time, deftly avoiding the broken one at the top. Before the ghosties even had a chance to notice him, Winston was safely ensconced in his room.
He turned one torch to very low beam and directed its illumination onto the Master’s portrait, like a candle burning in a human religious shrine. Then he transitioned to inactive mode, and the long, eventful day came to an end.
Two: Big Changes in Mech City
15: Meeting of the Minds
Come daylight, a vigorous knocking brought Winston around to full awareness. He opened his door to see a large, powerful metal man standing in the hall. It was the corpse slinger he’d seen yesterday!
Winston stepped back. Had this undertaker robot come for him now? He glanced around nervously for the funeral cart.
“Good morning, Boss,” the stranger said.
“Uh, excuse me,” Winston said, “do I know you?”
“My name’s Jimmy,” the robot said. “Star asked me to come see you about a renovation project.”
“Oh ... yes, of course,” Winston said. “Won’t you come in?”
Jimmy had an air of confidence about him, as if tumbled down buildings were his natural habitat. He was so big that he had to turn sideways to enter the door.
Once inside, he examined the room’s décor with professional interest. He gestured to the research paper title pages stuck to the wall.
“Star told me you were a scholar,” Jimmy said. “I always prefer working for a gentleman type boss.”
“Really?”
Winston warmed to the praise. In his entire existence, he’d never given a single order, not even to little Charles. The Master had always run everything with a firm, if gentle, hand. But now, all of a sudden, he was the “Boss.”
“How good of you to come on such short notice,” Winston said.
“Hey, no problem, Boss,” Jimmy said. “I was designed to be a builder, I go where the construction jobs are, that’s all. Allow me to present my resume.”
He whipped some papers off a clipboard and presented them to Winston. They listed the projects Jimmy had worked on during his career – the various buildings in Mech City and other towns that he’d helped to construct, his experiences on the high steel where even the most intrepid humans feared to go.
“That’s a fine list of achievements,” Winston said. “I admire such dedication.”
“Thank you,” Jimmy said with evident pride.
Then a shudder rattled his frame.
“Besides, anything’s better than handling corpses,” he said. “Have you ever been on burial detail, Boss?”
“I’ve not had that experience,” Winston said.
“Take it from me,” Jimmy said, “some experiences you can do without.”
“Quite so,” Winston agreed.
“Shall we take a little tour of the building?” Jimmy said. “I’ll fill you in on my ideas.”
“Certainly,” Winston said, “let’s go.”
He flicked off the torch. The Master’s picture turned dim and insignificant.
***
For the next hour and a half, they visited every region of the crumbling REX Hotel. Jimmy gave a running commentary on building materials, electrical hookups, power plants, curing times for cement and caulks – plus a whole slew of other technical information.
He spoke with the easy authority of the thorough going expert, but his words didn’t mean much to Winston, whose library banks contained little by way of such hands-on data.
Winston confined himself to erudite comments such as: “I agree entirely,” and, “Excellent idea, Jimmy, I was about to suggest that myself.”
The grand tour finished in the lobby where Jimmy expounded on the efficient new elevator mechanism he planned to install.
“Well, you certainly appear to have covered all the bases,” Winston said. “I like thoroughness in technical matters.”
“Is it a go, then, Boss?” Jimmy said.
The bland technical commentary was over. Great eagerness tinged the construction robot’s voice now.
Winston paused for a suitable interval of authoritative reflection. He stroked his chin, he glanced about the lobby, he looked thoughtful.
This was an unprecedented opportunity. A whole big project depended on his approval. Jimmy’s future and the future of many other robots was in his, scholar model Winston
Horvath’s, hands!
Winston’s brain tried to grasp the implications. Why, he’d almost forgotten about his ramblings of the night before, had chalked them up to his “overactive imagination.” But now they were assuming tangible form!
He loved this new sensation of power and responsibility. He even enjoyed keeping Jimmy in suspense longer than was necessary.
Finally, Winston nodded.
“Yes, I approve all of your plans, Jimmy,” he said. “How long will it take to get organized?”
Something like a grin spread across Jimmy’s mechanistic face.
“No problem there, Boss,” he said.
He flung open the outside doors. Dozens of robots crowded the sidewalk and street. They bore a variety of tools – sledge hammers, crow bars, shovels.
“Let’s get started boys!” Jimmy said.
The workers crowded in, each one bowing to Winston as he passed.
“Good morning, Professor,” they said. “Beautiful day, isn’t it, Boss?”
Winston acknowledged them with appropriate nods and gestures, as he’d seen human dignitaries do in various news reports he’d seen. The work crew scattered throughout the building, leaving Winston temporarily alone with Jimmy.
“My, there are so many!” Winston exclaimed.
“And each one is grateful to you, Boss, for providing them with meaningful work.” Jimmy bowed formally. “To which I add myself, by the way.”
“I’m glad to make a positive contribution,” Winston said.
“It’s more than that, Boss,” Jimmy said. “Some of these guys were getting ready for suicide jumps. I talked two of them down myself today with job offers ... why, here they are now.”
Two robots of a more advanced design entered from the street carrying long wrecking bars.
“Good morning Professor,” they said.
Winston nodded.
“Start over there, boys.” Jimmy pointed to the area by the elevator. “All this paneling and carpet has to go.”
“Right, Jimmy,” they said.
The two robots began tearing the moldy wood paneling off the walls.
“Well, I’d better get out of the way,” Winston said. “I’ll check back this afternoon.”
“Oh no, please stay here, Boss,” Jimmy said.
“What for?”
Jimmy lowered his voice and leaned toward Winston’s ear.
“The boys need to know that a superior type guy is in charge. I’m only the head foreman to them.”