~~~
Sarah liked pizza. Being a Friday night the place was packed, but the commotion didn't bother her. She didn’t know what she’d like, so I ordered one with the works. Once again, we started out talking about me, but I managed to turn the conversation to her strange memories.
“I remember a lot of things, but it’s all mixed up and I can’t make sense of it. Sometimes pieces come together but it’s mostly nonsense.”
“You remember language, though; you don’t seem to have any trouble with that.”
She thought for a minute, staring at some of the decorations on the wall. “That’s programming, I think. My brain is different from yours; many of my functions are governed by nano-electronics. It’s what makes the actions of a Humanoid Analogue predictable. The cerebral cortex is smaller than a human’s, but it’s what gives the Humanoid Analogue the associative memory and empathy that make it interact with humans more naturally. Mine must be larger, probably much larger, than normal and somehow memories have been constructed into it. But I don’t have the connections to make sense of them so I need the functional programming to, well, function.”
“Where did that come from?” I asked.
“I know a lot about how HABs are made, that part just came together right now. The rest is still blended up in my head.”
By the time Vickie drove us away from the restaurant, the world had fallen into the embrace of darkness. The night air felt cool and fresh, so I opened up the sunroof and Sarah watched the stars overhead.
I thought about taking her somewhere we could listen to some live music, but I couldn’t help thinking that sounded too much like a date, so I nixed the idea. The truth was, I enjoyed being with Sarah more than felt comfortable for an engaged man. Funny how talking with a crazy cyborg I’d just met seemed so easy.
As we drove, I’d catch Sarah staring at me. It was the sort of stare that told me she wanted the night to just be starting for us. Her programming would be a part of that, maybe all of it. A sex HAB will make you think it wants you. Hell, seeing a woman that beautiful look at me like that made me feel all warm inside and I knew the game. That’s what the expensive ones do, make you feel special; it’s not all about the sex. Of course, anyone who could afford any kind of sex HAB had to be rolling in it, but that’s a different kind of special.
“You can have my bed, I’ll rack out on the couch,” I told her when we got back to my place.
“Your bed is big enough to share,” she said. “I promise to be good,” she added with a mischievous smile that make me wish I could, and certain I shouldn't.
“I’ll take the couch," I said firmly.
“I need to change into something I can sleep in,” she said before stealing off into my bedroom.
I told the wall screen to activate so I could go through my messages. I needed something to get Sarah off my mind. Sure enough, Ron had called twice more, and my friend Mike once. Chloe had called too; I decided to save her message for last. Ron invited me to join his friend and take his boat out, fat chance of that. Mike wanted to get together for the game tomorrow. I’d have to decline; I had to figure out what the hell to do with Sarah.
Finally, I punched up Chloe’s message, and her face loomed large on the screen. Her eyes were soft with concern, her mouth frowning just a little. “Ethan.” She hesitated after my name, and my stomach contracted. Something I didn’t want to hear would be next.
“Look, Ethan. I wanted to wait until I got back to say something, but it’s been weighing heavy on me, and I had to get it out.” Another pause while she bit her lip. “I don’t want to be married yet. It’s not because of you; I just don't feel like I’m ready to be that… settled.” The concern in her eyes deepened. “Don’t take this the wrong way; I don’t want to break up, only... slow things down. I’ll take care of dealing with all the arrangements so you don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll talk about it more in person when I get back, okay? I’m sorry, Ethan, I still love you. I gotta go. Dinner meeting.”
I stared at the list of messages for a long time before telling the wall screen to turn off. “Discuss it,” I scoffed to myself. Chloe would have everything canceled by the time she got home Sunday. She was always efficient.
A noise caught my attention and I saw Sarah standing in the little hallway. She wore a large sweatshirt that hung midway down her thighs and below that, nothing but leg. I should have told her to leave me alone, but the words never made it out. Instead, she came over and sat next to me.
She placed a hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Ethan.”
“It’s just cold feet,” I said.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Her big, green eyes watched me intently. She scooted a fraction closer. Chloe slid away from my thoughts, and for a moment, I didn’t move, frozen by the invitation in her gaze. She could take away all my worries, at least until the morning. Sarah leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, warm and wet. Her supple tongue caressed my mouth, triggering urges with every movement.
I wanted her. I wanted to wrap myself in her and forget the rest of the world. My imagination painted a picture of her skin against mine, soft and perfect. It took willpower, a lot of it, but I broke away.
“I need to take a walk,” I managed to stammer. Sarah said something as I went out the door, but I wasn’t listening. I needed time to think, and being around her any longer threatened to shut down my mind entirely.
A cool evening breeze helped with the heat in my veins. I followed a walking path that led away from the busy streets, taking me into quiet.
Chloe. Maybe, I reasoned to myself, she’s tied up with her career. She’d been promoted in her sales department and would probably be overseeing the whole region before long. Yeah, maybe getting married was too much right now; she needed to get used to her new success. I talked myself into feeling better, but my gut held a lump that wouldn’t go away. Maybe I shot too high; someone as attractive, outgoing, and successful as her might not really be in my league.
My thoughts turned back to Sarah, but now I could be more analytical. She couldn’t stay with me; Chloe would never go for that and I wouldn't blame her. But if I turned Sarah in, then she’d be taken to her owner. I knew I couldn’t live with that decision either.
Thinking about Sarah reminded me of the name on the bench, so I pulled out my phone and started a search. Thomas Hoffman didn’t turn out to be very interesting, just a local businessman in Topeka. However, his son, Gordon, rang some bells. Gordon Hoffman founded Prairie Bio-Tech with his innovations in biological robotics.
Maybe the name meant something to Sarah only because P.B.T. made her. Somewhere in her programming, they tucked away some corporate information; maybe all their HABs had it. I didn’t believe it; Sarah knew the name from her mangled memories, not from hard-wired certainty.
I searched some more. Gordon’s daughter, Nancy, had been a phenom in the field of biological engineering. By age twenty-three, she started filing patents for new ways of interfacing silicon and brain tissue. Before long, she headed up P.B.T.’s research department and put them at least a decade ahead of the competition. She also married at age twenty-three, to Scott Lambert, an artist.
At age thirty-four, Dr. Nancy Hoffman became president and C.E.O., replacing her father. She retired about a year ago even though she’d only be forty-five now. All the articles claimed degrading health as the reason.
When I returned hours later, I saw Sarah asleep on my couch. I stayed as silent as I could and climbed in my bed without bothering to change. Chloe came back to my mind as I lay there, trying to drift off. We’d work things out; she only needed some time. No matter how much I reasoned with myself, that lump in my gut wouldn’t go away.