Evolved(32)

“I do not need any help in recreating any activity you wish to experience.”

I shook my head. “How about we watch a movie or read a book?” I suggested. “We need to do some things together that aren’t sexual.”

He made a sighing sound and faced the TV. “If you wish.” When I didn’t reply, he made the sighing sound again.

I laughed. “Oh, stop it.” I leaned back on the sofa and pulled him down with me, settling in and cuddling, as a human couple might do to watch a movie together. His head was on my chest and I wrapped my arms around him. I kissed the top of his head. “Is that better?”

He hummed a happy sound. “Much.”

After a full twenty minutes of silence and movie watching, he said, “Lloyd?”

“Yes?”

“Although it does not activate all my sensors like sex does, I do rather like watching movies with you.”

I chuckled, kissed his head again, and we continued to watch the rest of the movie, both smiling like love-struck fools.



The next three days I spent with Shaun felt almost surreal. Like I was living in some dream holiday filled with incredible sex, stopping only to read chapters of Moby Dick and discuss in great detail every nuance, every ideal. I did eat, of course, meals he would dutifully prepare for me, and we would watch movies, only to end up making out and groping and having more sex.

Or making love.

Because that’s what it was. Sure, there was need and fire and passion, but it was slow and tender, and every emotion, everything I felt yet could not say, I showed him with my touch, with my body.

We laughed, we debated, we discussed, we laughed some more, we loved.

I didn’t care what robotics, or what my rationale told me. I believed my heart. The way he kissed me, the way he reached for me, it was in the light in his eyes when he looked at me.

He loved me.

I knew he did.

On Sunday afternoon, the day before I was to return to work, I suggested a walk along the river. He’d enjoyed it before, and as much as we were homebodies, I wanted him to experience life outside my home.

“I would like that,” he said. “I shall grab our coats.”

Shaun returned a moment later, just as my phone rang. It wasn’t the first time my phone had rung since he arrived, but I didn’t get a lot of calls. I didn’t exactly like enough humans to engage in conversations with them. “Answer Call,” I spoke out loud.

But this was a phone call I wasn’t exactly expecting. “Hello, Mr Salter?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Myles Dewegger, unit manager at SATinc.”

I frowned. “Yes? I remember you.”

“No need for alarm,” he said. “This is just a standard follow-up call. You’ve had your Fully Compatible Unit for a week tomorrow. How are you both adjusting?”

“Very well.”

“Do you have any concerns or questions about the health of you unit?”

My unit. I didn’t much care for that. “His name is Shaun.”

“Yes, of course. And how is Shaun finding life with you?”

“He’s right here, would you care to ask him?”

There was a brief pause, then Myles said, “Okay” like it was a question. But then he changed his tone, brightening somewhat. “Shaun, how are you?”

Shaun looked at me and answered, a little woodenly. “Very well, thank you.”

“I trust you are in good health?”

“Yes. Functioning at optimum levels, thank you. Lloyd has just suggested an afternoon walk before it gets too cold.”

“That sounds fun. I’ll let you both go,” Myles said. “Lloyd, I’ll be making another call in a week to see if there are any teething problems come to light.”

“Okay,” I replied. “I can’t imagine there will be.”

“It’s company policy.”

“Very well.” Then I remembered, “Oh, yes, Mr Dewegger, there was one thing. The control panel instruction manual, I believe it needs to be updated.”

Another pause. “Updated?”

“Yes. It would appear the information was incorrect or incomplete. Or perhaps the file I received was glitched. If you could resend it, that’d be great.”

“Sure thing.” I could hear him tapping on a screen. “Sending it through now.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you. We will.”

The line clicked off and I shrugged the call off as unusual, but if it was company policy to follow up, then so be it. I looked up at Shaun. “Would you like me to help you into your coat?”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, we left our building and walked out into the cool Melbourne winter sun. It was late afternoon on a Sunday, so there weren’t too many other people on the streets. We set off toward the river at a leisurely stroll, my arm linked with his.

It was lovely.

I pointed out landmarks and other things he found of interest: cars, trams, bicycles, trees, birds. We found a seat by the river and Shaun took my hand and smiled. We sat for a while, and I gave Shaun a brief history on the Yarra River, which I’m sure he knew, and actually, I’m certain he could school me in all things history of all countries, but he sat patiently and listened, smiling, it would seem, just to hear me speak.