The Pleasure Bot (Planet Desire Book 4) by Delilah Devlin

Author:Delilah Devlin [Devlin, Delilah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Delilah Devlin
Published: 2016-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

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“Agnes!” she hissed into the receiver.

“Yo, boss! You don’t have to whisper—this bathroom’s well insulated. But hey, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

Priscilla wrapped her arms around her abdomen, suddenly chilled. “We need to talk.”

“I thought Decky baby would keep you occupied longer than this. I’ll have to have a talk with the boy.”

“Knock it off, Agnes. I have something I need to ask you.” Priscilla lowered her face to keep Agnes from seeing her expression. Her assistant was far too intuitive.

“Sounds serious. What’s the matter?” Agnes’s voice rose sharply. “Did lover boy get too rough?”

“No, nothing like that.” Her face heated. His roughness had been an unexpected bonus. “He was fine. I was wondering about something you said earlier.”

“You actually listened to something I said?”

“Quit the sarcasm already. I’m serious.”

“All right.” Agnes’s voice grew softer. “What did I say that has you so worked up?”

Priscilla took a deep breath. “You were talking before about how you’re not all plastic and wire—you’re living cells, too.”

“That’s right. Grade-A stem cells straight from some of the world’s greatest minds.”

Priscilla shook her head. “I never gave it much thought before—but you’re part human.” Guilt for her self-absorption ate at her conscience. All these years she’d never once given Agnes’s existence a second thought. She’d just been an aggravating convenience.

“I was created, not born, sweetie. A few cells reproducing in a Petrie dish do not a human make.”

“But you get bored like a human and need stimulation like a human, don’t you?”

Agnes was quiet for a moment. “What’s all this leading to?”

Priscilla persisted. “Can you experience emotions like a human, too?”

“I respond to stimuli in my environment,” Agnes said slowly. Was there hesitation in her voice? “My reactions to those stimuli are a result of my programming.”

“Personality programming—that’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”

“That’s what it’s called. But the operative word, hon, is Artificial Intelligence. I don’t breathe, I don’t procreate—”

“But you do dream, don’t you, Agnes?”

“Well, it’s just an intellectual exercise to keep my circuits—”

“What do you dream about, Agnes?” Her heart squeezed at how hard Agnes worked to give such a human function an intellectual explanation.

“Dream? That’s a frivolous activity.”

“But you do it—don’t you?”

Agnes remained silent.

“What do you dream?” Priscilla repeated.

“Okay. I dream about going places I’ve only seen on the boob tube—galaxies with names you can’t pronounce—hurtling through space in a cruiser as fast as I can get the engines cranked.”

How like a certain smuggler’s delusions of grand adventures. Dismayed she’d let her thoughts wander that path, Priscilla asked, “Do you dream of a companion to share those things with?”

“What for? I have you. I keep hoping you’ll get a life and decide to see some of these things for yourself. Maybe meet a nice—”

“Smuggler?” Priscilla pressed her point. “Is that why you gave me Declan? To give me a yearning for adventure?”

“Well, sort of.”

Priscilla was quiet for a few moments. There was so much to take in. Agnes was a sentient, feeling creature. She’d never guessed. “I’ll tell you what, Agnes.

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