Autonomously Yours: The Life of a Compandroid by K. N. Parker

Author:K. N. Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: robot, android, future, feminism, droid, techno thriller, techno scifi, feminist, isaac asimov, autonomous bot

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Dessert”

It was a quiet car ride home. James looked catatonic as he sat in his seat and stared out of the front window. Something was on his mind.

“I would very much like some dessert when we get home,” he said, blankly, reiterating his desire. He then turned to Patricia, “Can I please have some dessert when we get home?” he asked her redundantly.

“Of course you can. Should we stop by and pick some up? I don’t remember having anything in the fridge,” she asked, innocently.

“No. I have some in a special place. I’d like you to serve it to me, if that wouldn’t be to much trouble.”

“It would be my pleasure,” she said and she stroked his sweaty head.

“Good. Good,” was the last thing he said before he laid his head on her shoulder, his mind still on something distant.

When they reached home, Miriam was in the foyer waiting for them.

“Welcome back. I hope you two had a pleasant night,” she said as she took their coats. James said nothing. Miriam looked to Patricia.

“It was fine Miriam. Miriam, do you mind getting the dessert for us? James’ sweet tooth is acting up something fierce.”

“Miss? I’m sorry, I don’t think we have anything ready made, but if you give me twenty minutes or so I can whip up something for you. Or I can go out and pick something up if that would be more to your liking.”

“Silly me, I just assumed you would have known where––,” it was then that James stepped in and stopped their conversation.

“Patricia, she doesn’t know where it is. I keep it upstairs.”

“Upstairs. That's a strange place to keep dessert. Is there a secret refrigerator you keep up there you haven’t told me about, Jimmy?” Patricia said as she giggled.

“Yes. That’s it. Secret refrigerator,” James said as he grabbed Patricia’s hand.

“Sir, I am not aware of any secret––,”

“Miriam, you may retire and recharge for the night.”

“Very good, sir. Have a good night, miss,”

“We’ll talk later, Miriam,” said Patricia.

“Definitely, miss,” she said back, and James and Patricia headed upstairs.

James led Patricia into the upstairs guest room, the room she’d been sleeping in for the last week and a half. He still hadn’t shown her his private bedroom the entire time; they spent all of their waking moments together, as expected, but they still slept separately.

James turned on the light, but dimmed it so their outlines were just barely visible. Patricia sat on the edge of the bed and watched James as he paced, agitated, back and forth. I gathered that was his favorite past time, pacing.

“Come and sit beside me, Jimmy. Calm yourself,” Patricia said to him, but it was as if he did not hear her, could not hear her.

“Do you see how she is?” he asked rhetorically, mostly to himself. “Condescending, belittling, sarcastic.”

“What’s wrong with sarcasm? I’m sarcastic and you love me,” Patricia said.

“But you’re not mean spirited. That’s the difference. You’re lovely.”

She grabbed James’ hand and finally got him to join her on the bed next to her.

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