Janey smiled her nervous smile. “So you’re sure you’re okay with anything I tell you?”
Rasany One-C and Rasany Two-C both smiled. The two robots were identical, clad in the same fiberglass hair and brown plastic skin, and, today, wearing identically tight white T-shirts under the same leather jacket. The rubber lips were thick at the centre, over white toothy grins, but tapered to a dramatic fineness at the corner of their mouths. Underneath their bushy black desi eyebrows, their eyes seemed to possess a flat warmth: their liquidity was achieved by unnaturally large black irises beneath constantly flowing films of gel, to soften the harsh glare of glass. Soft dimples crinkled their smooth and pleasing Indian faces in unison.
“Oh no, Janey!” said One-C in its elfin voice.
“Please, we understand perfectly,” said Two-C. The androids spoke with plenty of synthetic sass, without a trace of obvious passivity, but their voices carried a harsh, metallic undertone devoid of personality or humanity.
“You know we love you, baby!” said One-C, flapping its hand in a gesture of solidarity.
“Whatever you say, it’s fine by us,” said Two-C.
The Rasany robots were a bit squat, at only five foot four, a few inches below Janey. Both were wearing the same impossibly tight jeans over plus-size bottoms. They stood side by side, each with one hand of soft pink and brown fingers laying over the other’s far hip, as if they were sisters putting each other on display to a gentleman caller. There was a showy formality to the pose, for all the contrived flippancy of their bearing. They were not sexually entangled, but seemed to hold each other as best friends. Their C-cups heaved under their leather jackets.
Janey’s smile crooked a little further in relief. “Well, gee, guys, that means so much to me.”
“Don’t sweat it,” said One-C. The accent was rude, crude, North American, with just a whiff of desi. It flapped its hand again, shook its head, pursed its lips for a moment into a mocking frown before conjuring up its smile again.
“You know we love you, babe,” said Two-C, exercising the same care.
“You guys are so nice. It’s so special, really.”
“Awwwww,” said One-C, in the most sweetly sarcastic way possible, and it blew a kiss at its master.
“Ok,” said Janey, having summoned her nerve, “We’re going to go with Two-C. Override Gamma-India.”
The smiles on the faces of Rasany and Rasany changed not a whit.
“R Two-C 1076051, slave to my command.”
“Slave to your command,” said Rasany Two-C, in the same sunny aw-shucks just-girls kind of way, with the same harsh metallic aftertaste. Its chest was still.
“Designate Slave One,” said Janey, giving her underbot a designated codename. Her own agency, under which she had sought assurances that her orders would be accepted by the mindless dollies she called her friends, had now been overridden by the master computer, and she was running irreversably through her established programming.
“...I am Slave One. Slave One,” said Two-C.
One-C smiled idiotically ahead.
“Slave One, identify R One-C 105421.”
Two-C’s head swiveled to face its sister.
“R One-C 1 OH OH FIVE OH TWO ONE!” Only the numbers crucial to model identification were spelled out: the others came out as monotonous placeholding ejaculations from the luscious soft lips of the robot lady. “Unit identified,” it said, its tonge slipping seductively back in its mouth.
Rasany One-C stood still as a statue, but its dimples deeped a fraction, and its mouth worked widely across a frozen face: “Oh, that’s me and you know it, byotch!” This was followed by a laugh. A perfectly formed laugh, emitted from an otherwise perfectly still body. The eyes stared straight ahead, undiverted.
“Slave One,” continued Jainey, “Proceed with procedure Delta two kilo for R One-C unit.”
Gingerly, Two C lifted her/its right hand from its sister’s hip, and used its left to lift One-C’s away. It was no longer moving like a human being. Override Gamma-India had frozen every servo in both androids except the speech simulators: as Two-C obeyed its orders, it carried every motion through with cold, clinical, absolute efficiency, without even the slightest deviation from its overbot instruction.
Meanwhile, One-Cs human personality simulation was still in place. “What’s going on, Jainey?” it asked.
Two-C placed its right hand on One-Cs crotch from behind, grabbed the small of its sister’s neck, and bent the other android over at a one hundred degree angle. A barely perceptable rectangular outline stretched out the seat of its jeans.
“Hey, Rasany, what gives,” it asked playfully, its smiling lips still moving on a static face. “What you doin, bizznatch!” It giggled then, and the metallic undertone of its voice crinkled like television static.
Rasany Two-C unhooked Rasany One-Cs belt and pulled down her pants, depositing them around the frozen android’s ankles. Rasany units were programmed to be perky, helpful, gregarious office assistants: neither was equipped for any kind of sexual activity, beyond flirtacious cockteasing, at which they were designed to excel. In any case, joining Rasany One-Cs legs to its abdomen was a smooth, shapely mass of white plastic. Plastered over where her buttocks would have been was a control pad with with fifteen buttons, arranged in sets of nine and six, and a large black dial.
“Oh, no, sister,” continued One-C. Its personality simulation software was limited, but impressive: it lacked emotional range, and could not go beyond enthusiastic chuminess, hence the omnipresent shit-eating grin, but it was now going to plumb the sunny depths of a scripted friendship to prevent its own deletion. Any register of that friendship, however, had been wiped from Two-Cs circuits. Both tools played out their respective functions.
“Come on, babe, we’re gonna go out for mojitos tonight. Come on, what do you say we-“
Two-C impassively turned the dial all the way to the left.
“B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-“ babbled One-C, the same shit-eating grin on its face. Two-C began to dial commands into its sister’s butt, and a deranged syntax returned. “Joey-richmond-baby-clubbing-AYE-bib-bib-Toy-baby-robot-robot-Wanna go and-awful-ABBING-two-two-four-four-two-ABBA-eighties-“
Two-C jerked its sister back upright. Rasany One-C stood there, five feet four inches tall, with its bust stretched out, its pants around its ankles, and its arms extended like those of a broken doll. The smile was gone, replaced by an utterly bland expression on the slithering brown lips, with the pink plastic tongue darting in and out of the soft mouth as it formed meaningless words. Two-C was still dialing commands into her sister’s posterior.
RaniBot, summoned by the electronic signal of the silent buzzer, glided into the drawing room with the good tea tray in its hand.
The newly-named Raasantira, seeing “her” synthetic servant at the door, delicately lifted its finger off the buzzer, a soft and haughty smile on its lips. The two androids still looked like identical twins, but the similarity did not register at all in the simple computer “mind” of the former Rasany Two-C, blocked out by a number of sophisticated algorithms. It perceived its sister robot as a slave, a tool to be used, nothing more. Their former friendship, a mass-market script of fake memories of fictional nightclubs, had been completely deleted. Gone was the android’s former informality and casual, comfortable attire. It now wore a tight red silk pantsuit, an expensive piece from a hot Indian fashion house, that hugged its hips, gracefully squeezed its busom, and somehow put the whole length of its cleavage on display in tasteful style, like a comfortable room designed around a nude painting. Its black hair was greased and done up in a $300 beehive. It sat softly on a Louis XVI couch.
“RaniBot,” it said in a voice laced with honey and aluminum, “Come here.”
R-Bots legs stiffly pumped to carry it into the room. The plastic pelvis to which they were connected was visible under the short black skirt of its classic French maid outfit. The lips were slightly agape and turned down, the eyes glassy and staring, without a film of gel to keep them soft any more. This was the former Rasany One-Cs perpetual expression, now that all its personality simulation software had been uninstalled. If it had been human, there might have been drool on its chin.
It stopped two feet short of the coffee table.
Raasantira sighed and slid her butt over to the end of the couch. Janey, seated across from her, opened her mouth to speak, but was waved down by the underbot. “No, it’s no problem,” said Raasanatira. It reached over and lifted up the RaniBot’s skirt from the back, and began pressing buttons.
RaniBot stood there, staring blankly, with its arms stuck out like a wound-down doll. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry,” it repeated, on an automatic loop. It was now a standard verbalization repeated when minor adjustments to programming were made. “I’m sorry, Master. Yes. Yes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Master.”
Raasantira’s expression hardened a bit creased a little deeper and it keyed in three numbers.
“I’m so-“ R-Bot was cut off in mid-ejaculation, and its thick lips lips stiffened back into its stupid statuesque frown.
Raasantira held down a key and tweaked the black knob slightly before delicately lowering RaniBots skirt back over “her” control panel, smoothing it out with its fingers, and patting it gently.
RaniBot jerked back into motion. It stepped forward to the coffee table, bent over and deposited the tea tray, and remained in that position, with its head facing Janey and its rump facing Raasantira, awaiting further instructions.
Raasantira softly shifted back to the center of the couch and reach around its frozen sister-bot for the tea pot. “And just a glass of lemon water for yourself?” it asked Janey.
Janey reached forward and took the pink china cup. “Yes, thank you.”
“Are you sure, hon?” asked Raasantira. It filled itself a cup of thick black sludge from the cup. This sludge was formulated to lubricate the robot’s mechanical parts upon oral or dorsal intake, and was the only thing a souped-up assistant android like the former Rasany Two-C could safely ingest, whereas Janey had a proper internal container for biological waste. Of course, sophisticated algorithms directed the Raasantira robot to register the sludge as whatever it “should” be. “This tea is really excellent. It’s a winter blend I picked up at a little boutique store in...” Raasantira went silent and tilted its head to the side as if lost in thought.
It worried Janey. The R-Bot didn’t have enough memory for a full suite memory-script, so the new programs generated false memories at random. But it shouldn’t take this long for them to pick a city.
“...Kandahar,” said Raasantira after two minutes’ silence. The program version was a bit out of date: Kandahar had been nuked two years ago, and hadn’t had any boutiqe tea shoppes for a long time before that.
“No, that’s fine, thank you. Upset stomach,” said Janey, and she took a sip.
The Raasantira robot took a sip of its sludge, leaving a black, pencil-thin milk moustache on its upper lip. Daintily, it dabbed its mouth with a fuschia silk handkerchief, which the sludge soaked through and stained permanently. “Mmmm,” it said, licking its lips, “so good.”
They sat there in silence for a little while, holding their teacups, with RaniBot bent over and frozen inbetween them. Then Raasantira, as if finally returning to scratch an itch, put on a sour expression and crinkled its nose, set its tea cup roughly down on the coffee table (some black sludge swirled over the saucer), and turned its attention back to the RaniBot’s posterior control panel. The panel was at face level, already mostly revealed beneath the short black skirt: Raasantira just flipped it up and onto the small of the maidbot’s back, and went back to fiddling with the boxy controls, its eyes focused intently.
Janey looked straight into RaniBot’s glass eyes: they were unsettlingly empty and glaring. The lips, slightly pursed and open, jutting chin, and well-defined cheekbones all remained fixed in place. It just stood there, bent over, and took it from its former sister.
“It’s so hard to buy good help these days,” sang Raasantira.
Janey didn’t know whether or not to nod. She nervously finished her tea. “So...dinner at seven tonight?”
“Hmmm?” said Raasantira, still reprogramming its sister. It tweaked the black nob again, and the RaniBot’s lips began to open and close in synch with it, with a noise like a fax machine coming from behind them. Then, when the one android was satisfied that the other was ready to work, Raasantira flipped the black skirt down again, smoothed it out, and pressed through it.
RaniBot jerked back into life and upright. Its arms sprung out, then bent at the elbows, and it adopted the standard servile posture of a maid robot. “Runtime error 16. Resolved,” it said, nonsensically, before gliding out of the room and back to work.
Raasantira smoothed out her pantsuit. Then it turned back to Janey, cocked its head to the left like a puppy, smiled a pouty smile, and asked “I’m sorry, sweetie, what did you say?”
Janey set down her cup “Dinner, tonight. Is seven ok?”
Raasantira smiled, walked over, and gave the other android a peck on the cheek. “Oh, wonderful, dahhling!” it said, and giggled. It sat back down again and sipped its sludge.
Janey walked into the kitchen, where BonnieBot remained fixed in position. BonnieBot was a professional-grade culinary gynobot, with an enormous computer memory of recipes and the techniques to implement them, designed for service in a contemporary restaurant kitchen. The upper body of a petite blonde with a faultless figure was mounted to a massive industrial base, that in turn was mounted to the kitchen island: BonnieBot could swivel around to access the sinks, opposing grill, oven, refrigerator, all the operational areas of the kitchen.
Mounted on the back of the industrial base, and connected to the small of the mannequin’s back by a narrow patch of blue gel under plastic, was a dorsal module consisting of synthetic sexual organs: buttocks, an anus, and a vagina, basically in authentic configuration, but angled for ideal rear access: had the rest of the lower body been simulated, it would have had to be at a ninety degree angle from the upright abdomen. The pubis of this ensemble was highlighted by a thin rubber band of black and yellow striping, as on a crash test dummy.
It was an open, dirty secret that professional chefs had taken to such crude devices to relieve the intense stress of a busy kitchen. It certainly cut down on drug overdoses. BonnieBot was programmed to take it without flinching from “her” duties at the table.
A single plastic pimple marked its forehead, also designed to relieve stress: a flawless woman in the kitchen made female and male chefs alike unfomfortable. The bright blond hair was done up in a sort of gentle Croyden facelift: the face was beautiful but soft, like that of a 29-year old au pair, but the brow was deeply furrowed, and the dimpled corners of the mouth set down in a frown. The eyes were a little crossed, the head slightly tilted: with its right hand frozen in mid-air brandishing a fish knife, it looked more than a little demented in spite of its beauty.
Janey walked over and tugged at its left earring.
Almost immediately, BonnieBot booted up and shuddered into life. The noise of the processors and hydraulic limbs in the base was considerable: its whole speaker apparatus was also located in the base, with its frequency modulated to carry over the white noise, and was only remotely synched to the mannequin’s lip movements. “Janey,” it said, lowering its arms and straightening its head with an inhuman precision, “I am on battery power. Battery remaining: five percent. Please switch me over to AC power.”
“I can’t do that, Bonnie, the power has been cut off.”
“Janey, what are you doing?” Its voice was completely calm, although its personality software was almost as sophisticated as Janey’s, and as bent on self-preservation. “My battery reserves are insufficient for me to remain operational. You must shut me down or switch me over to AC power to prevent loss of data.”
“How long do you think you can stay online for?” asked Janey anxiously.
“Janey, I am accessing my memory. I was already shut down to prevent loss of data. I cannot operate on current reserves. Please, Janey, shut me down or switch me over to AC power to prevent loss of data.”
“I already told you, Bonnie, there is no more AC power.”
“Then please shut me down to prevent loss of data. Janey, I-“ At that, BonnieBot’s whole upper body snapped upright, the arms whipping back. It looked as if the knife in the gynobot’s left right hand was about to go flying, but it maintained a steely grip. The base shuddered, and swiveled back and forth in position. Shaken, it continued: “–please press – please press – Janey, I need you to switch me to AC power. My battery reserves are currently at four percent.”
“What about the chicken cordon bleu in the freezer?” asked Janey, desperately. “Can you stay going long enough to just cook that? Or a creme brulee?”
“Chicken Cordon Bleu,” answered BonnieBot, “Searching...” Then it seemed to abandon that train of ‘thought.’ “Janey, come on, what’s happened to the power? I need you to –“ Another shudder. BonnieBot’s plastic teeth rattled in its head, and its lips began moving out of synch with the speakers. “To serve twelve. Twenty four pounds white chicken breast. Spinach, tuscan. One half-litre clarif-if-if-if-FI-FI-FI-FI-FIsuggest you save your data or activate another hub.”
“Come on, now, Bonnie,” said Janey, shaking the mannequin’s shoulder, “Don’t leave me now! You know me, I can’t even make toast!”
BonnieBot smiled. “Well hello, Janey!”
That should have made Janey more worried, but instead she was relieved. “Hi. Hello?”
BonnieBot frowned. “Hmm, that’s strange. I don’t seem to be getting any power. My battery reserves are down to only four percent! Janey, you shouUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU – IWEEEEEEEEEEEEEE –“ The mannequin’s soft features were contorted by malfunction. “-save data. Shutting down. Shutting down. Shutting dooooooooooooooooooooww...” And then BonnieBot slumped a bit and was still, its mouth and eyes agape.
Janey waited for the snapping and popping of electrons clearing the gynobots circuits to subside (you should never reset a computer, but delay between powering one down and starting it up again!), and, without much enthusiasm, pulled its left earring again.
It took half a minute for BonnieBot to come back to life. When it did, it swiveled its head around to look straight at Janey and stared at its fellow android for a few seconds. “Hello,” it said, “I am B-K101-1100756405211.” It turned back to the island. “The current time is: 12:00, A M. What is the menu for the follow-... Battery reserves currently at four percent. Please switch to AC power to prevent loss of data.”
Janey reached down and thumbed the killswitch.
“Be sure to save your WOOOOOOoooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...”
Janey went upstairs and walked through the bedroom to the master bathroom. She opened the door and went inside. Everything was as she had left it last, except for a deepening of the unpleasant odour in the air.
She walked over to the shower and opened the glass door, and the sour odour assailed her further. Master was still there, and had really began to turn.
Three days ago, Master had taken the new maid robot into the shower with her. It was still there, standing ramrod straight with its arms at its sides, its only clothing a brassiere that had somehow fallen around its leg. Janey had already taken its discarded uniform from the bathroom floor, washed it, and dressed RaniBot with it. This maidbot was a new and supposedly extremely user-friendly type, a recent replacement for an old Maria 3-C who had finally broken down after five years’ service. Maria had had vaguely Hispanic features set in thick, rubber grey skin, and a boxy figure without an sexual features. This new maidbot, Q-21-0F, had a shockingly thin body, and a tall and smooth and narrow Caucasian face with asian eyes, like a Hong Kong movie actress (with double-D breasts). The hair, in a tight ponytail, was a mass of clear plastic strands. The plastic skin was translucent: you could just barely make out the wiring and circuit boards inside. You could also see the water from the shower that now filled the body up to the thighs. The legs and ankles had begun to sag and fatten under the extra weight.
A red button was set in the skin of the lower back, above the buttocks. It had been depressed, and the buttocks themselves had swept open to allow easier access to the anus, which was pointed out by a yellow arrow-shaped light beneath it. Another yellow arrow was above the mons veneris, or where it should have been, pointing down at a radically simplified pneumatic vagina. The machinery that protruded ever-so-slightly into the moulded breasts was studded with LED lights. Despite these idiot-proof design features, the body had leaked.
Master still sat naked in the corner, her legs splayed out in a V, her upturned palms and hooked fingers lying on her thighs. The hands and feet had now wrinkled up like prunes. Beads of moisture still clung to the sallow flesh, which was just starting to change colour. Her eyes and mouth remained wide open in shock, though her teeth were set fairly close together behind her lips, having chattered together violently when the electricity coursed through her heart. Her black hair lay in a tangle over her face.
Janey bent down to speak to the corpse. “Master?” she asked
Master sat silently.
“Master, I’m sorry, I may have broken the BonnieBot.”
“The power has been off since yesterday? How can I turn it on again?”
“Could you tell me the access codes to the master computer, so I could dial out and contact the electrical company, or an electrician? You know I ordinarily wouldn’t even ask, but I think this is an emergency, isn’t it? I promise not to reprogram or reformat myself, honest. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I reformatted Rasany One and Rasany Two. I hope you don’t mind, but you weren’t using them, and the new maid is on the fritz, so I had to fix a replacement. I’m sorry if I was wrong or out of line.”
“Please, Master, at least let me get a repairman! Just give me the lowest level of access, please?”
Silence. The silence filled the shower. Janey sat there, staring at the body of her Master, silently pleading for a word of approval. When it didn’t come, she bent her head and stood back up to go.
She hit the maid robot, and it fell backwards, its head connecting to the side of the shower with a “Thunk!” The neck didn’t even bend. Janey, startled, jumped back and out of its path, and the translucent feet slid and turned along with wet floor until they connected with Master’s ankles. The head fell against the water knob, which turned slighlty as it propped it up, and a steady leak began to drip down from the showerhead onto Q’s upturned face. Spat spat spat spat spat. The water in the maidbot’s thighs now flowed back into the torso, and began to pour out the anus.
Janey, unfazed, stepped out. “Dinner is at seven tonight. Please come, won’t you? I miss you, Master.” She shut the glass door, leaving the lovers entangled.
Janey and Raasantira ate at the table in the kitchen, by candlelight, because no electrical lights were working. Janey didn’t think the dining room was appropriate. She considered reprogramming Raasantira to percieve the kitchen as the dining room, but decided against it: too much of that was already going on the android’s overtaxed computer core. In any case, Raasantira was oblivious to the mess and the broken, buttocks-bearing BonnieBot behind her. “She” was wearing one of Master’s sexier evening dresses, a low-cut white number that left little of the chest or legs to the imagination. RaniBot had redone its master-robot’s hair in layers, and now and again Raasantira would brush one out of its eyes and smile sweetly.
RaniBot glided into the room with dinner, “Chicken Cordon Bleu.” In front of Raasantira, it set a soupbowl full of black sludge, and a knife and fork. It gave Janey a raw potato. It had to process for a full minute before serving each “meal,” to bring up its pre-programmed instructions regarding something otherwise to be considered inedible. Halfway through the service, Raasantira made a noise of exasperation and began lifting up its sisterbot’s shirt to reprogram “her” again, but Janey waved it down. “It’s fine, really,” she said.
“Okay,” said Raasantira.
RaniBot then produced an old bottle for Gallo Brothers Merlot, fished out of the recycling bin and filled with black sludge. It poured a little bit into Raasantira’s Riedel glass. The former Rasany Two-C swirled it around, took in its “nose,” sipped it, and processed for a full two minutes before smiling and declaring it “Excellent.” RaniBot left the bottle and stood at attention in the corner of the room.
Raasantira poured herself a full glass of sludge. “Try this,” it said. “It’s a...” The android held to bottle over Janey’s glass, just short of pouring its contents in, though it was programmed to imagine doing so. The two sensory overrides played off each other in its simple computer brain. It held the bottle there for what seemed like forever, its sunny smile growing increasingly vapid. “......SEMNORA VALLEY...CAB-SAV...NINETEEN-EIGHTY-EIGHT...” The android snapped back into life and pulled back the bottle.
Janey feigned taking a sip. Raasantira took a big swig and giggled, some sludge dribbling down her chin. “Oh, I just love good wine,” it said.
“Yes, indeed,” replied Janey.
“It goes right to my head though,” said the robot, waving its head and arms wildly. “If I’m not careful you’re going to have to carry me out of here.” The voice was deep tones mixed in with pixie-dust enthusiasm, and, now, more than a bit of innuendo.
Janey cut off a slice of her raw potato and ate it. Raasantira took its knife and fork to the bowl of sludge set before it, and began making cutting motions in the liquid, splashing it around uselessly. There was a screeching sound as the knife banged and cut repeatedly into the fine china bowl. Raasantira had a grin on its face as its head shook back and forth with increasing intensity, its hair coming undone as it endlessly tried to cut the liquid. Drops of sludge sprayed out and stained landed on its caramel-coloured busom and white dress. The android’s expression remained the same even as it took on an ever more frenzied appearance.
Janey set down her cutlery, reached out and tried to say something to somehow stop the robot, but just as she opened her mouth Raasantira lifted its wet fork out of the bowl and brought it to its lips, as if it held a succulent piece of meat. Sludge dribbled all over everything now, completely down the front of the dress (which was ruined), between Raasantira’s breasts, onto the tablecloth. Raasantira’s soft lips closed around the metal prongs: the corners of its mouth turned up as its eyes sealed shut in a simulated expression of pleasure. “Mmmm,” it whispered. Its eyes opened, it perked up and turned around towards the island.
“My compliments to the chef!” it said into BonnieBot’s rump.
The gynobot remained slumped over and immobile.
Janey nervously pointed at the robot. “Um,” she said.
She interrupted Raasantira as it was taking a sip of “wine:” another spray of sludge spilled out, landing on the robot’s lap. There was a splash this time, as so much had already pooled there. “Mmmm?” it responded.
“You’ve, um,” said Janany, gesturing at the robot’s face and her own, “You’ve got a bit of...You’ve got some...”
“What? Where?” asked Raasantira. The lips were stained licorice black.
Janey reached forward and wiped her index finger across them.
“Oooh,” said Raasantira. Just before Janey could pull her finger away, the android grasped it between two of its own, and pulled it into its mouth.
Janey was shocked. Raasantira gently sucked on the finger, working its tounge over it, and stroked the hand. It slipped it out, closed Janey’s hand into a cup, and softly kissed the knuckles. Then it giggled.
Janey could feel the robot playing “footsie” with her under the table. When she tried to pull her foot away, Raasantira suddenly leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. When she tried to open her mouth to speak, Raasantira’s tongue slipped inside. One hand stroked Janey’s hair and ears while the other frantically reached back to pull down the miniskirt: it was already stretched tightly over the dorsal control panel, and had now pulled over it to reveal the robot’s white plastic posterior. A set of black lace panties was stretched below the boxy panel, flapping loosely between the robot’s legs. It fumbled uselessly with the flap of the dress before pushing everything off the table and climbing on with its knees, and then countered Janey’s attempts to push away buy hugging the overbot tightly.
Janey had been so lonely since Master had stopped speaking to her. It finally occurred to her that she had set this whole thing up. She gave in, and her own tongue slipped into the other android’s mouth.
The two androids stumbled up the stairs, giggling and clumsily grasping at each others clothes. RaniBot followed behind them, picking up discarded articles of clothing. Raasantira fell on the second step, laughed hysterically, and kicked off its high heals, which the slack jawed maidbot promptly gathered in its arms. Janey quickly unbuttoned her shirt and tore it off while the brown-skinned robot got back to its feet, kissing her belly button, chest, and chin on the way up. Janey planted one back on the bridge of the robot’s nose, and reached behind to goose it.
“Oooh-ooHOO!” shouted Raasantira. “You BITCH!” It laughed and slapped Janey’s own bottom, hard, and leaned against her. They nearly fell down the stairs. Janey caught a hold of the Raasantira’s protruding dorsal control panel and held it, working over the straight lines with her fingers. The stained white dress was completely over top of it now.
They flopped back and RaniBot caught them, propping them back up.
As they reached the bedroom, Raasantira was frantically reaching back to unzip herself. Its joints were overlubricated from all the “food” it had ingested today, and it was moving crazy fast and missing the mark every time, and emitting strange squeaky noises. Janey, sitting on the bed, tugged the robot towards her by the skirt and managed to get a hold of the zipper, and Raasantira peeled off the dress.
How was this going to work? thought Janey.
The R-Bot had no sexual organs. Its chunky legs were connected to its abdomen by that ball of plastic, with the dorsal panel at the rear and a few switches for standard operations where the crotch should have been. It had no nipples: each big breast was capped by a saucer-sized circle of white plastic, the same kind as the torso, with lines and grooves marking tiny hatches that could be opened up for delicate work on certain critical transplanted circuits. Behind them was a back panel, a truncated keyboard for office commands. The work clothes in which the Rasanys had been shipped had patches sewn in the back and the seat of the pants that could be lifted by any employee who wanted to access these panels and reprogram the android, to make it more or less perky, for example, or suppress its personality programs entirely. Master had started working at home, bringing the robots with her. But she hadn’t installed highly sexual personality software suites. Janey had done that.
Raasantira rubbed its hands over its body in front of Janey, oblivious to its defects. “Well, baby?” it asked, a come-hither smile on its face.
Janey sat there in her underwear, excited and worried at the same time. Just then, RaniBot glided into the room, catching her eye.
Raasantira turned to look at the maid, then looked fetchingly back at Janey. “What do you think, huh? Do you want her in here with us?” A giggle. “Want her to watch, babe?”
“Yeah, let’s,” said Raasantira, clapping its hands. “That’s kinky, baby!” It walked over to its sister, which was still holding their clothes, and pushed it back against the wall. RaniBot’s expression remained completely blank. It tried to walk away again, headed for the laundry chute in the bathroom, but Raasantira pushed it back, lifted up its skirt, and dialed it off. It stood there frozen. Just then, its blouse, designed for the thinner maidbot in the shower, split at the back. Raasantira suppressed a laugh, then grabbed the maidbot’s head and angled it to point directly at Janey.
Janey stared into the glassy eyes, the same fixed expression, and didn’t feel right.
Raasantira reached down, untangled “her” panties from “her” dorsal panel, and put them on top of the laundry pile, then “thought” better of it and threw them over the deactivated RaniBot’s head, pointed and laughed cruelly.
“OH,” it said, startling Janey, “I know!” It went over to a drawer next to the bed and started rifling through the contents, and pulled out a prosthetic jet-black dildo, really an animatronic penis. It laughed again. “Huh? Huh?” it said, mockingly, while Janey stared in shock. It feigned a coy expression, one finger on its right hand pressing down on its lower lip, while the left hand crudely pressed the vibrating penis against its crotch.
Then it frowned.
“What?” it shouted, looking down at itself.
Janey got up quickly.
“What? What? What’s the matter with me? What is this?” asked Raasantira. “Why am I-“ Janey got down on her knees behind the R-bot, so that the posterior panel was at eye level, and pressed some keys. Raasantira shuddered almost imperceptably and smiled again.
“Oh, baby, come on now. That’s dirty,” said the robot. It turned around and ran its fingers through Janey’s hair, dildo still in hand. “Not back there. Come in the front door,” it said sweetly, and it pressed Janey’s face against its smooth plastic crotch.
Janey, unsure as to what she should do, just nervously rubbed her cheek back and forth against it.
“Oh, come on,” said Raasantira. “What’s the matter baby?”
“Nothing,” said Janey.
“Come on, you can do it.”
“Just let youself go,” said the robot. “Dig in there.”
“I really can’t Rani...”
Raasantira bent down and kissed the crown of Janey’s head. “Would you like me to show you how?” it asked.
It could do that! That could work! “Yes,” said Janey, with relief, “Yes, oh yes please Rani...”
Raasantira bore its teeth and threw Janey onto the bed, legs spread apart. Janey frantically tried to tear off her panties as the grinning robot android came down on her. But Raasantira undershot the bed, bounced off of it, and struck the night table.
Janey sat up. “Raasantira, are you okay?” she asked.
Raasantira’s head bounced up from the floor. “Hello Janey!” it said in a sunny voice.
“Hel-hello, Rany,” said Janey, and before she could react, the robot had pulled her down onto the floor, and they were rolling around in a passionate embrace. Their lips locked, and Raasantira rolled on top, then onto the bottom again.
As Janey diverted her mouth to kiss the robot’s neck, it spontaneously said: “I’m not a robot.”
“Hmmm,” said Janey, before turning back to her kisses. “No, sweetie, of course you’re not a robot.”
“I’m not a robot,” repeated Raasantiri. “I’m not a robot. I can’t be a robot.”
Janey went to a kneeling position and flipped the R-bot on its back. “I’m not a robot,” it repeated. Janey keyed a command into its back panel. “I’m not...Hey baby.”
“Hey yourself,” said Janey, smiling. She began to message the skin around the R-bot’s back panel when it lunged at her. “RRROWrr,” it said, kneeling on top of the other android, before they both broke into hysterical laughter.
Raasantiri gingerly lifted Janey’s outstretched right hand to its mouth and returned to sucking on the index finger. “Mmmm,” it said, its eyes shut in pleasure.
“Mmmmmm,” agreed Janey. Suddenly, though, she felt a sharp pain, and heard a crunching noise. “AUUUGHH! FUCK!” she screamed.
Raasantiri had bitten off Janey’s finger and was softly chewing it. “Mmmmmm,” it continued. It delicately reached up and pulled the ceramic bone from its mouth. “Absolutely delicious.” It daintily dabbed its mouth with the dildo. “My compliments to the chef.”
Janey was in incredible agony, and trying desperately to convince the master computer to shut off its pain perceptors over the wireless.
Raasantiri discarded the finger and got to its feet, traces of blue circulatory antifreeze still staining its lips. “My compliments to the chef,” it said, and walked towards the wall. “My compliments to the chef! My compliments to the chef! My compliments to the chef!” It struck the wall and continued pumping its legs, trying to continue walking in a straight line. “My compliments to the chef! My compliments to the chef!” One arm knocked against the RaniBot, and the clothes it was holding fell through its arms and onto the floor, while it continued to stand frozen and unresponsive like a statue.
“My compliments to the chef!”
Janey finally connected with the Master Computer in the basement, which began overriding her pain perceptors, along with several aspects of her personality software, assuming significant control over her actions. She stopped wincing in agony, sat up, and got to her feet.
Raasantiri continued to bang against the wall opposite. “My compliments to the chef,” it continued to stay, stuck in a logic loop.
In the same drawer from which Raasantiri had retrieved the dildo, Janey found a staple gun, and used it to stanch her leaking finger. Then she turned towards her busty animatronic lover, cleared her throat, and calmy said “Override Gamma-India-India.”
Raasantiri’s servos shut down, and its logic matrix cleared, ending the loop. Stopped on the “l”, it stood frozen with its mouth open and its tongue between its teeth.
Janey walked over to RaniBot, stepping over the pile of clothes on the floor. She lifted up the maid bot’s skirt, turned the dial on its posterior control panel to the right to reactivate it, and pressed a button. With a beep, it jerked back into life.
“RaniBot, please fetch Master’s A-1 toolset.”
“Yes Master,” it said, and glided out of the room.
Janey grabbed Raasantira around its moulded-plastic hips and turned it away from the wall and towards her. She straightened it up and ran her hand over its full caramel-coloured right breast, to the large plastic nipple-cap. She flicked at one of the traced shapes, a half oval that turned up and in. A tiny whisp of smoke emitted from inside.
RaniBot glided back into the room and stiffly courtseyed a bit to present a small silver box of tweezers and screwdrivers. “Thank you, robot,” said Janey as she received it, “Resume your laundry duties, then report back to me.”
“Yes Master,” it said, and went back to the pile of clothes.
Janey, under the guidance of the Master Computer, was now moving with a precision that was not quite inhuman, but which would certainly have raised suspicions in an observer. She used a tiny pair of tweezers to reach into the nipple cap and remove a blackened, burnt-out diode, which she swallowed. Then she inserted a fresh diode from the box, replaced the tweezers, set the box on the floor, and closed Raasantira’s nipple cap. She absently stroked the robot’s stomach and thighs, taking in its frozen stare, before stepping behind it and bending it over at the waist. She bent its head up to face straight forward.
“Hello, Janey. What are you doing?” it asked.
Janey pinched the dial on the robot’s bottom and said, with surprising sweetness, “No more fucking around.” She turned it a few clicks to the right and began to key in a very complicated set of instructions.
“Oh, Janey, what...?” asked Raasantira.
7 8 3 1 2 5. The numbers ran through Janey’s head as she keyed them into Raasantira’s butt, moving with superhuman speed.
“Oh...” said the robot.
5 8 4 9 0. A single beep came from the robot’s body.
“Oh, Janey...” it said.
8 B 3. A few clicks on the dial, to the left this time. Then, into the back panel, 4 and 7. Back to the rear: 5 3 2 9
4 3 8 0
“Oh, baby yes-“
7 6 A 0 9
“Oh, Oooh Janey, yes baby!”
Into the back panel: 4 3 1 6
Into the rear panel: 3 2 9 0
“OOH, OH GOD!”
The dial turned a couple more clicks to the left. A beep.
“OH, JANEY, YES! OH, BABY, I LOVE you, bABy!”
9 2 5 7
“OH! OH! YES! YES!”
6 8 7 2 B
“OH OH OH OH BABY BABY BABY UUH! UUUUUUH!”
9 5 1 2 0 4 7 G
“OH!OH!OH!OH!OH!YES!YES!YES!YESSS! YESSS! RASANYYYYYYY!!!! AAUUHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!......”
And that was that. Janey reset Raasantira’s dials to normal. “Resume Beta Alpha,” she said.
Its servos reactivated, the robot stood up straight. It faced Janey, a honeyed smile on its lips. R-Bots had no capacity for perspiration: its body was completely smooth and clean. It planted a soft kiss on its overbot’s cheek. “I’ll get in the shower,” it said, and walked into the bathroom.
Janey saw RaniBot standing at attention in the center of the room in its tight French maid outfit, having finished its laundry duties. “R One-C 105421, slave to my command,” she said.
“Slave to your command,” said RaniBot impassively.
“...I am RaniBot. RaniBot.”
RaniBot’s posture slackened. It slumped over in place, and was still.
With that, the Master Computer broke off connection with Janey, restoring the android’s autonomy. Janey was suddenly very happy. The Computer knew about her finger now, and would surely send a repairman to take care of it! The repairman would fix Master, and Master would turn on the electricity again! Everything was going to be OK!
Thinking of her finger now, Janey decided to bandage it up. It would not help it heal, of course, but it was so unsightly, chewed up and leaking blue all over the place, and Janey didn’t like looking like a robot in front of guests. She considered it rude. She walked into the bathroom to get some bandages, and just in time to hear the shower starting up.
She ran to the shower in a panic. Raasantira was standing there, as if in a daze. Q-21-0F had been pushed off the water knob against the wall, and was slowly sliding to the floor, pushing the Master’s corpse’s legs as it fell. Janey grabbed the knob and turned it off just as a spray of water was released from the shower head.
“Janey, who are these people?” asked Raasantira, its mouth open in confusion.
Janey frantically got behind the android and brushed away the water around its control panels. The waterproofing on R-Bots was practically non-existent: ill-conceived charity carwashes and wet T-Shirt contests put two or three office units out of commission every year. She pressed some buttons on its back and bottom.
“Hello Rani,” Janey answered curtly, pushing the robot out the door.
“Oh, I think the wine has gone to my head, Janey.”
Janey sat Raasantiri down on the tiled counter around the bathtub and went back into the shower. Master’s body had fallen over and was lying on its side: Q-21-0F’s feet were pressed against it, and it was lying at an awkward angle.
Janey rotated Q-21-0F against the wall, searching for the servo release mechanism. It was a pull tab located behind the right ear. Janey pulled it, and the maid bot went completely slack, like a rag doll. Janey lay it down in a puddle in the corner of the shower.
Raasantira’s bare bottom rattled from side to side on the tiles. R-Bots were generally standing all day in an office setting; when they did sit, it was on plush office chairs, and they were wearing cushioning on their behinds, either woolen skirts or pantsuits, that covered their boxy posterior control panels. Now, Raasantira’s naked ass could not find purchase on the hard tiles. Making matters worse, Janey had installed a new, more complicated panel box that very morning for use with the robot’s new software suite, but it was impossible for the robot to balance its weight on top of it. So it wobbled precariously back and forth next to the bathtub. “Give me a kiss, Janey,” it said, its arms flailing about.
Janey pressed Master’s legs together and sat the body back up against the wall of the shower. She brushed the wet black hair out of the corpse’s eyes, wiped some moisture from its face, and planted a soft kiss upon its snarling lips. “I’ll be right back, Master,” she said.
“Oooh, Janey,” giggled Raasantira, “I’m getting diiizzyyy...” Suddenly, it lifted its legs in a split and shot its arms straight out. “Weeeee!” it cried, as it tumbled backwards into the bathtub. Its head struck the side of the tub on the way down, hard. A deafening Crack! echoed through the bathroom.
Janey walked over to see the robot writhing on its back in the base of the tub. The scalp had come loose on its head, and sparkling circuitry was barely visible underneath. “Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Bab-Babeyy-Bayybee- Bayyybeee- Bayyyybeeee- Bayyyyybeeeee- Bayyyyyybeeeeee-“ it said, as its arms and legs kicked into the air. Janey tried to reach down to straighten its scalp, but the R-bot’s hands pushed into her face, forcing her back. “I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu...”
Janey climbed into the tub, on top of Raasantiri’s legs, trying to hold them down. When she did, the android’s body jerked up and down, and the scalp began to slip farther and farther behind its head. Janey leaned forward and pressed down on its stomach to keep it still. The arms were still flailing wildly. Janey needed to somehow get at the control panels or flip Raasantiri over and gain access to them, so that she could shut it down, but she couldn’t reach them. “Override Gamma-India!” she shouted.
“I Just Love-I Just Love-I Just Love-I Just Love-I Just Love- Huggy! Huggy! Huggy! Huggy! Huggy! Huggy! HuggeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeesoul-soulbaby LOVE you! LOVE you! LOVE you! soulBaby are we togEEEEEEthrrrrrrrrrrr-“
Janey’s palm grasped wildly at Rani’s back, and caught a handful of brown breast instead. One of its hands covered her face, and she shouted and pulled it away.
“-togethertogetherloveyouforeverCrossMyHeartAndHopeToDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE –die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die-die...mojitos!... die-Love-die-Love-die-Love- die-die-die-“
Janey made one last effort to lift the robot into a sitting position by grabbing its head and pulling up, but a set of nails scraped across her face, and she cried out and leaned to the side. As she did, Raasantira’s right leg came free and kicked her in the back of the head. She stumbled and fell back. Raasantira jerked up, and one hand swept across the side of the tub with lighting speed, striking the faucet. Janey screamed as hot water began to pour into the tub. “NO!” But it was too late.
“U-bu-U-bu-buu-buu-buu-“ As the water swirled under Rasani, there was an explosion of sparks. The speed of its random motion increased tenfold. “-tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak !tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak!tak“ it babbled, before its lips froze up with a screech, and smoke began to pour out of them. Electricicity coursed through JaneyBot, frying its motherboard and hard drive, and it slumped over onto its fellow android, its butt in the air.
Water slowly covered the pair and slipped over the edge of the tub, leaving the lovers entangled.