Rim When the Dream Dies by A. Bertram Chandler

Author:A. Bertram Chandler [Chandler, A. Bertram]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Sci-Fi Short
Published: 2010-03-07T20:37:13.421000+00:00

WHEN THE DREAM DIES 13

She pouted. "Is that all? You could have talked to Central Control."

"That wouldn't be quite the came," I told her, I broke away from her again—reluctantly, I admit—and sat down in one of the two chairs. She followed me and before I could step her sst on my lap. Sponge rubber flesh.

,I told myself. Steel bones. Plastic akin. A colloidal brain . . . I thought of further, quite revolting physiological details. Even so, ake didn't feel like a machine. And aren't we all machines, anyhow?

Gently I pushed her from me. I said, "Sit on the other chair. Please."

"All right." She sounded sulky, and looked it. Her drew bad come adrift at the shoulder and was revealing perfect white skin. I prefer my women well tanned, however—to me the combination of brown akin and that pale hair would have been almost (almost?) irresistible. But I kept quiet about my preferences, knowing that should I voice them

isomething would be done about t, possibly at once. She said, "We were made for a specific purpose, you know. Talking is only incidental to it." I asked, "And when Central Control has produced the real, flesh and blood women—what then?"

A shadow fell over her face.She said, tonelessly. "We shall be wrapped, I suppose."

"Did Central Control make you?"

"No. Auxiliary Control." "And is Auxiliary Control an independent entity?"

"No," she said slowly. "No. Not quite. it is part of Central Control, yet it has its own individuality." Her face brightened. "It is analogous to a man-woman combination. As I understand it, when Central Control was first made it was decided to give it both male and female personal. ity. Over the years the two personalities have become more distinct." Mechanical schizophrenia, I thought. I asked. "And will Auxiliary Control care if you are scrapped ?"

"Why should it? It's only a machine."

"And so are you," I told her cruelly.

"I'm not!" she flared. She jumped to her feet, tore off her flimsy dress.

"Look, damn you! Is this the body of a machine?" I had to admit that it didn't look like one.

"I'm a woman, damn you! I'm woman more desirable than any you have ever known!" "You're a machine," I told her shakily.

"It's you that's a machine, not me. I was made for love. You . . . You were made for totting

44 AMAZING STORIES

up Columns of figures. It was a happy life off this world. There mistake ever to have made you are many planets in the Galaxy in the shape of a man!" upon which you and your sisters

would be in great demand. Yes inI wanted to loosen my collar deed, you have no idea . .." but refrained irom doing so, Her lips curled scornfully. "A

fearing that the action would be pimp," she said.

misconstrued. Auxiliary Control, "No, I'm not a pimp." Then, I was thinking, was something "You seem to have a remarkable of a Frankenstein. Auxiliary fund of knowledge for . . ." Control had created monsters machine." she fin• that would destroy—but that ished.

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