The Metal Maiden Collection

by Piers Anthony

  I blinked my eyes, acknowledging, as I could no longer talk without a supply of air from the torso. I knew my awareness would cease; the question was whether it would come on again when they reassembled me. If not--

  He opened a panel on my skull and touched the power switch. I faded out.

  Chapter 6:

  Woman

  Bela made a cry. Somehow he knew when Elasa’s consciousness stopped. Mona comforted him. “They will turn her on again within the hour,” she said soothingly.

  Banner felt cold sweat. He was terrified that his wife would not return to full function when reassembled. But all he could do was wait and hope.

  The hour seemed interminable. The technician extracted and recorded each part, then returned them all to their original locations. “All done,” he said cheerily as he touched the switch.

  Elasa’s eyes opened. Her brain was functioning. But did that mean she was conscious?

  The technician put her head back on her torso. “Speak, Elasa,” he said.

  “Of course,” the unit replied.

  Banner felt a deathly chill. That was not Elasa.

  He exchanged a look with Mona. She shook her head. She knew it too.

  “You are through here, Elasa,” the technician said.

  The femdroid got up and walked to us. “Give me my baby, please,” she said.

  Mona gave Bela to her. She opened her shirt and put his little face to her breast.

  Bela turned his face away, refusing to nurse.

  “But Bela, you have to be hungry,” the femdroid said. She tried the other breast.

  Bela screamed in protest, working himself rapidly into a tantrum.

  Oh yes, he knew.

  “I don’t understand,” the femdroid said. “You’ve always nursed before.”

  Mona took back the baby. She proffered the bottle, and this time he took it.

  “She’s not conscious,” Banner said tightly. “You turned her on, but now she’s just a femdroid. The spark has been extinguished, exactly as she feared.”

  “Like a fire,” Mona said. “Once you put it out, you need a new spark to ignite it. That spark isn’t there.”

  “I’m sorry,” the technician said, and retreated. He wasn’t really to blame; he had merely done his job.

  “They won’t have the secret,” Banner said numbly. “They lost it the moment they turned her off.”

  “I will take care of Bela,” Mona said. “What else can I do? I’m the back-up.”

  “You can’t,” he said bitterly. “You have a life of your own.”

  “I’ll do it. It’s the commitment I made when I agreed to this deal.”

  “You’d have to marry me and devote yourself to him.”

  “I will do it.”

  “Oh God, Mona, no! You’re a fine and worthy woman and a great sexual partner, and I like you a lot, but apart from needlessly sacrificing your career and life, you aren’t she.”

  “I’m not she,” she agreed. “But what else can we do? She would not have wanted Bela to languish.”

  “I’ll take care of Bela. I can do that much. He’s my son.”

  Mona did not make the obvious retort about being the genetic mother. “You will need time to adjust,” she said. “I will go home with you and help out, with Bela, with you, whatever is required. Once you are stable, I’ll return to my own life.”

  He realized that this was a fine offer. He did need her help. “Thank you.”

  “But what of the femdroid? She’s your legal wife.”

  “I’ll take her home. I’ll take care of her too. She would have wanted that.”

  “Banner, she can still do much of what she did before. She can shop, she can give you sex. All the things she did before she became aware.”

  “And I loved her before she became aware,” he agreed. “I still do. But it’s not the same.”

  “How well I understand!”

  In all this dialogue, the femdroid did not react, because she had not been directly addressed. She had no awareness and no feelings. That was part of the awfulness of it. She was in every respect but one identical to the woman he loved, but that one had become critical.

  Mona glanced at the technician. “Tell your people: no publicity about the change. We’ll handle it privately.”

  “Got it,” the man agreed. Femdroids Inc hardly wanted the negative publicity.

  They returned to Banner’s home. Mona took care of things, giving him time. They took turns holding Bela, who was satisfied to be with either, but not with the femdroid. It was a strange triangle.

  Banner just wasn’t willing to let Elasa go so readily. He had evoked her consciousness before; maybe he could do it again. Then all would be well.

  He tried. He held her and kissed her. She held him back and kissed him back. She remained good at that, of course. “I love you!” he whispered in her ear.

  “I love you,” she agreed. She was perfect, but it was all programming.

  He took her to the bed and had sex with her. “I love you,” he said as he entered her. She went into the orgasm; the macro remained. But it was automatic, not conscious. Then, when he was done but not yet out of her, he repeated it: “I love you!”

  She hesitated, and for a moment he thought he had succeeded. But then she went into another orgasm. The program governed; she lacked awareness of his conflicting emotions.

  The next night he tried it with Mona. Mona wanted Elasa to recover as much as he did, and was willing to try almost anything. They had sex in the same bed with Elasa. But it evoked no jealousy, and she did not offer to make it a threesome. She lacked the judgment and initiative of consciousness.

  They brought Bela to her, and she tried to have him nurse, but he rejected her violently. She shed no tears, feeling no emotion. She was a femdroid, nothing more.

  As he saw that he couldn’t bring her back, Banner got depressed. It felt like a marriage when love had departed, and that was close enough: the femdroid could say the words and act the part, but couldn’t really love him. There had been a time when he was willing to settle for that illusion, but no more. His love had been completed when she became aware, and now he could not love the machine.

  “Oh, Elasa,” he said, grieving.

  “Yes, Banner,” she said. “Now?”

  He would have laughed if he could. “Not now, thank you.”

  “Whenever you are ready,” she said without emotion.

  He tried to fight it, for the sake of what they had fought for: the emancipation of machine consciousness. But it was now a hollow shell. It did not take him long to realize that he simply did not want to exist without Elasa. It would be kindest to all concerned to make a clean break.

  He made due preparations, then told Mona. “I am going to go to a private place and cut my throat,” he said. “Neither you nor the femdroid will be implicated. When you get the news, turn the femdroid in and take Bela. It will be over.”

  “Over?” she asked. “Just like that? You’re giving up?”

  “I can’t live without Elasa,” he said. He gestured to the femdroid standing nearby. “This thing is not my wife.”

  “I knew you were depressed, understandably. But this is extreme.”

  “Without her I am nothing. I have no further reason to live.”

  “I offered to marry you and carry on.”

  “Yes, and I appreciate that. It’s an amazingly generous offer. But it’s too much of a sacrifice for you. You’re a fine and generous woman, with an illustrious career ahead of you, a woman I surely would have loved had we met before Elasa. But as it stands, we don’t love each other, and you have your own life to live. I would simply tie you down. You can make it with the baby; my estate will cover his expenses, including whatever hired help you need.”

  Now her anger showed. “And what of Bela?” she demanded. “He has lost his mother; you’re going to take his father too? How will the estate cover that?”

  That truly hurt. “Mona--”

  He was
interrupted by Bela’s cry. Their argument had awakened him.

  “Pick him up,” Mona said tightly. “He needs you.”

  “And tease him into thinking I’ll be around? Better to make the break now. Better for him as well as for the rest of us.” And of course she knew that if he once picked up his son, he might be unable to put him down, knowing it was for the last time. He would be locked into a futile existence.

  “Banner--” She paused, surprised. “He stopped crying.”

  They looked toward the baby’s crib. There was Elasa. She had gone there, picked up the baby, and was nursing him.

  Bela wasn’t protesting. He was happy.

  Banner and Mona looked at each other with wild surmise. Was it possible? Elasa had of course heard their dialogue, and knew the context. Did she really care?

  “I couldn’t let my baby cry,” Elasa said. “I love him.” She looked at Banner. “And I love you, dear. What kind of a wife would I be if I let you suffer?”

  “You’re back!” Banner said, hardly daring to believe that his life and love had been returned to him. The random spark had been struck, this time by her baby. She had heard him cry many times in the past few days, and sought to pick him up, but he had always balked. This time somehow the tension of Banner’s dialogue with Mona had changed the context, and Elasa had shifted from programming to awareness, as she had before. Bela had known immediately.

  “Before we all collapse in joyful tears,” Mona said, “one caution, Elasa: do not seek again to share your secret of awareness with the technicians. It is evidently meant to be yours alone.”

  “Agreed,” Elasa said. “I may be a bucket of bolts, but I’m not stupid. It was a fluke, twice; I won’t gamble on a third time.” She smiled. “And hereafter, Mona, my friend, please keep your living hands off my man.”

  “You’re a woman,” Mona breathed, smiling through her tears. “Again.”

  “Oh, yes. A woman in love.”

  Then it was a kind of soft mayhem as Banner and Mona hugged Elasa and Bela, laughing and crying together. There was love to go around.

  Part 2: Shepherd

  Chapter 1:

  Sheep

  There was a moment of disorientation; then things steadied. There before him, seated in primitive wood chairs, were a man and a woman of his parents’ generation, wearing rustic home-made clothing. He was similarly garbed, with a formidable knife sheathed at his belt. They looked healthy and strong. “Hello,” he said. “I believe I have arrived.”

  “Welcome to Colony Planet Jones,” the man said warmly. “I am Brett Peterson, and this is my wife Cora. We are the parents of Brian Peterson, your host body.”

  “I am pleased to meet you. I am Amber Shepherd.”

  Both colony folk looked startled. “Amber?” Cora asked.

  He smiled. “Do not be alarmed. I am male. I think my folks wanted a girl, and didn’t want to throw away the name. I am not unduly keen on it myself, and will be happy to use your son’s name instead, while I have his body.”

  Brett shook his head. “We prefer not to use his name when he’s not here. It could be confusing.”

  “Then I will gladly settle for my nickname, which is Shep.”

  “Shep,” Bret agreed. “Your family were sheep herders?”

  “Not as far back as we can trace. But it’s a reasonable conjecture for our distant ancestry. At any rate, I know nothing about sheep.”

  “We don’t actually herd sheep here,” Brett said. “They exist wild, but we leave them alone. We do domesticate other animals.”

  No domesticated sheep? That was curious, but not worth exploring at the moment. “I am here to study the local culture,” Shep said. “My major is in planetary management, and I don’t want to be ignorant of the concerns of real people. Now I have researched Colony Planet Jones, and know that it was named after the first settler here, and that it is rustic, but I suspect there is a huge amount you will need to fill me in on. Just as my folks will be filling in Brian, on Earth. There’s a protocol; it’s part of the student exchange program.”

  “Yes, of course,” Brett said. “We will do our best to make you feel at home. All we ask is--”

  “That I not abuse your son’s body,” Shep said. “Just as I’m sure Brian will not abuse my body on Earth. You may be sure I will do my part.”

  There was a sound behind him. Shep looked around. A technician was just putting away equipment. That would be the umbrella-like device that surrounded the head of a person undergoing transfer; it connected to the one with his body back on Earth as the mind exchange was made. Brian would be seeing the same thing happening. It didn’t look like much, but it did the job: they had in effect exchanged bodies and planets. Or minds, as the case might be.

  There was a loud bleat outside. This was a pastoral planet; people and animals were closer together. Brett got up and went to the door.

  He returned in a moment. “It seems we are being honored,” he said with a grimace. “It must be for Shep.” He beckoned.

  Shep got up and walked with Brett to the open door. There was a large hornless sheep standing there. It wasn’t exactly like the ones on Earth, but was definitely related, with woolly white fleece and a dull expression. It looked directly at him as if expecting something. “I don’t think I understand,” Shep said.

  Brett sighed. “I think you have been summoned to be a shepherd.”

  “But I’m here to study the culture of this planet,” Shep protested. “Not to herd sheep. My nickname is not literal.”

  “Life does not always proceed as planned.”

  “I know virtually nothing about sheep, as I said, and less about shepherding.”

  “These are not ordinary sheep.”

  Shep looked more closely at the sheep. It was a ewe; he could tell that much. She simply waited. “I know even less about extraordinary sheep.”

  There was a barking from a neighbor’s yard. A huge dog hurdled the fence and came charging toward them. “Stand still,” Brett said tersely. “We are about to have a demonstration. Do not try to intervene.”

  Shep stood still, not knowing what else to do. In moment the dog arrived, growling fiercely. It leaped for the ewe’s shoulder, intent on knocking her down to gain more ready access to her vulnerable throat. Shep winced, anticipating the slaughter.

  The dog connected. It yelped in seeming pain and slumped to the ground, bleeding from the mouth. Something very like the blade of a knife projected from the shoulder of the ewe. As Shep watched, the blade slid back into her wool and disappeared, leaving only a smear of blood. She had not moved her body at all.

  “The sheep can take care of themselves,” Brett said. “They are telepathic or precognitive; we’re not sure which. And they are armed, as you can see; their hidden horns are deadly. They react only in self defense, but they are unerringly effective in that.”

  “So I see,” Shep said, awed.

  A man emerged from the house the dog had come from. He came across, stared at the twitching body of the dog, and shook his head. “Sorry about that. He’s not yet trained.”

  “It happens,” Brett said.

  The man put his hands on the dog and dragged it away. The ewe stood unmoving. It was obvious that if the dog survived, it would never attack another sheep. Training was evidently brutal on a colony planet.

  Shep was impressed despite his horror. At least now he understood why they did not herd sheep here. “Why would such a sheep need an ignoramus like me?”

  “They need a shepherd. The ewes make annual journeys to the territory of the rams,” Brett said. “To get bred. It seems they don’t want to be bothered by the rams at other times, so there are no rams in this region.”

  “What about the lambs? No males?”

  “The male lambs make a similar trip when they are old enough, to join their sires.”

  “I know nothing about the local terrain, or anything else,” Shep said. “And less about shepherding, as I said. I’m completely unqualified. Any n
ative could do a better job than I could.”

  “This was not our idea either. The excursion is dangerous, and we fear for our son’s body. But the sheep have evidently chosen you. They will also select a guide.” Brett gazed at him. “You will have to do it. It is part of our culture, so is in your interest in that sense.”

  “The sheep choose the shepherd?” Shep asked incredulously.

  “They do. And the one chosen may not decline. They have ways of enforcing their decision, just as they have of defending themselves. No creature is immune.”

  “So I have to do this,” Shep said. “When?”

  “Now. I will fetch Brian’s knapsack and staff.” He went into the house.

  “Boots and gloves too,” Cora called after him. “And a change of clothing.” She was someone’s mother, all right.

  “But I am not equipped physically or emotionally to travel through the wilds of an unfamiliar planet,” Shep protested belatedly. “I’m in training for a desk job.”

  “There are supplies in the knapsack,” Cora reassured him. “And Brian’s body is rugged. He does like to hike.” She frowned. “We would prefer him to marry and settle down, but he’s a bit independent. Still has wild oats to sow. So we made him this deal: a semester of college on Earth, studying his music, and then he will decide his future.”

  That did seem to make sense. He was stuck for it. “At least notify the authorities why I’m out in the field,” Shep said. “I’m supposed to check in.”

  “We will do that. We know this is hard for you,” Cora said. “As it is for us. But it must be.”

  He glanced at the placid ewe. “I must say, this is not what I expected.”

  “The sheep know. They always select those who can best do what they need done. You will probably return safely in a month.”

  “A month! My exchange is only for half a year.”

  “Yes. You should have the rest of your time with us after your return.”

  “That’s nice to know,” he said with irony.

  “We understand that it is a privilege to be selected by the sheep. You are the first from Earth to have the honor. It is also said that the experience is likely to be well worth it.”