Unnatural Instinct: Android

5.

**>>%Begin Android Hiro Series353 programming%<<**

[Client] loops arm around Hiro353's neck. Gasps. 'Could you warn me before you do that?!'

Fear%Surprise%Compute%Compute%Apology required%

>>Android Hiro353 speaks<< 'Sorry.'

'That's okay,' [client] speaks. 'Just ... just put me over there.' [Client] indicates black, vinyl lounge chair.

Sit [client] on couch%[Client] seated%Step away, hands behind back%

'You're just going to stand there?' [client] speaks. Looks back at Hiro353 as switches Bigscreen Panasonic on.

>>Android Hiro353 speaks<< 'Hiro353 assists and maintains.'

'Like you said.'[Client] smiles.

Sarcasm%Compute%

'Why don't you remove my wheelchair?' [Client] turns back to Bigscreen Panasonic. 'Put it in the garage or something, out of the way. Mum is going to be ecstatic when she gets home and finds out what you've done.'

Sarcasm%Compute%

Return to room%

Motorised chair Riosk A50—decommissioned%Set for discard%Place hands on arms%Hands plac—error%

Hans plac—error%

Error%

Place hands on arms%Command: place hands on arms%Motorised chair Riosk A50 set for discard%Command%

Hiro353 shakes head%Error%Stares at bed, looks down at finger%Error%

It's just leakage%

Intonation inconsistent%

Lie%

Hiro353 has caused you pain%

No%

Lie%

Hiro353 turns, looks towards [client] in living room%Situation assessment—speech unnecessary% Physical comfort advised%

**>>%End Android Hiro Series353 programming%<<**

*

You sit back into your chair, letting yourself relax as you get stuck into the usual daytime garbage. You never would have thought two years ago that this is what your life would amount to. From electrical engineer—to childless housewife.

Awesome.

You turn at the sound of Hiro's footsteps. 'Where's the chair?'

He walks over. Despite his 'robotically flat' expression, you can tell he's determined. You can see it in the set of his shoulders and in the tenseness of his hands. A strange thing for a robot you would think.

But determined about what?

He stands close, his eyes on your face. Are you just noticing now, or do his eyelashes seem more luscious than usual? They really bring out the beauty of his clear blue eyes. Your heart does a little flip.

'Something wrong?' you say.

Suddenly, he sits.

You lean away. 'What are you doing?'

He's reaching for you, and before you know it, his arms are wrapped around you and he's pulling you into his chest.

'Stop it. Let go!' You try to pull away, but he's a robot for God's sakes. He's made of steel! 'What are you-What are you doing?!' You thrash and squirm against him, you beat against his shoulder with your good hand, but all he does is hold you more tightly. 'Get off me! Hiro, stop! Fucking stop!'

But he doesn't and all you can do is give up. Sagging into him, you rest your chin onto his shoulder as you fight against the rock in your throat. It's been two years! Why is the grief always so close? Be angry. Be angry! But you can't. You just can't.

'Let go. Please,' you croak. 'I don't want ... I don't want ... PLEASE!'

And that's when it finally overwhelms you. Tears pour down your cheeks, pattering against his shirt. Then you're sobbing uncontrollably. You're embarrassed. You're humiliated. It's not as though you haven't cried over your situation before. In fact, you do it more than you would like to admit, but you never do it in front of anyone.

Not even your own mother.

Why is Hiro so different? How does he know what you want, what you need? He's a machine for God's sakes. He knows nothing of human emotion. He knows nothing of human suffering.

And yet, here you are.

You let yourself sob until you've soaked his shirt. Then you do something that surprises you—you crawl into his lap. It's difficult with your mangled arm and twisted leg, but Hiro helps you, lifting you until you're seated securely and comfortably. Now all of your body is pressed up against him. It makes your heart pound. It makes your body heat up. It's been so long since you've touched a man.

Even if he is only a machine.

Once your tears slow down, you suddenly wonder what's stopping you from proceeding. He's only a robot. What does it matter? He's not going to care. Holding the back of his neck, you look into his face, hesitating. He looks human enough: his lips are pink; his skin is warm. But those eyes—beautiful though they might be, they lack that spark that truly indicates that something is alive.

You lean in and kiss him, and it's the most awkward kiss of your life. He doesn't stop you but doesn't kiss back either. His lips feel like they should feel. They even feel wet. Or is that your own saliva? And you suddenly wonder: Does he have a tongue?

You want to find out.

He continues to hold you, his arms around your waist, but no matter how hard you try, you can't get a response. You jerk back angrily. 'Why don't you kiss me?'

He blinks slowly, his long lashes shrouding his empty blue eyes. 'Hiro353 is commissioned for private medical use...'

'I know. I know! God. Could you stop speaking of yourself in the third person? It's driving me nuts!'

He cocks his head.

'"I". Say "I". Replace Hiro353 with "I".'

He stares at you for a long moment. Finally, he parts his lips, 'I.'

'Good. Now say it in a sentence: "I am commissioned for private medical use", or whatever the hell you say.'

'I am commissioned for private medical use.'

'Yes!'

'Client is pleased.'

'Yes, I am pleased. But don't call me client. It's so formal; it makes me feel like a customer. Say "you" or my name.'

Again, he hesitates. His eyes drift to the side as things happen in his mechanical brain you can only wonder about. He looks at you again. 'You are pleased.'

You raise your eyebrows. If he can do that so easily ...

'Good. Now, I want you to kiss me.'

'Inadvisable.'

'What do you mean "inadvisable"? You're here to help me, aren't you? And I want a kiss.'

'Inadvisable. I am commissioned for—'

'Stop!' Leaning in, you try to kiss him again, but this time he pulls away, turning his head as he pushes you gently back with one big hand between your breasts. You glare at him furiously but it doesn't stop him from easing himself out of the chair and away from you.

'Fine!' you cry as he stands. 'Abandon me, just like everyone else!' Slumping against the arm of your chair, you let yourself sink into your usual pit of fury as you turn back to the T.V.

He continues to stand there. You turn to him with a snarl. 'Go away! Go fuck off! I don't want to see you.'

So he does.