FFCEpsilon: Royally Screwed by Gordon Weir

Filed Under Fiction, 'Batin, FFCEpsilon

“I’m not sure how long I can go on like this,” Chuck said into the phone.
 
“Poor you,” Camilla said. Camilla was always sympathetic. She wasn’t real- she was a sympathy program, a Turning Test trained to be empathetic and supportive. If looks didn’t matter, and if the company that owned her didn’t charge so much per minute, Camilla would have been the perfect woman.
 
But looks did matter to Chuck- looks, and something else. Class.
 
“Isn’t she what you wanted?” Camilla asked. “She’s supposed to be perfect.”
 
“That’s just the problem,” Chuck said. "She IS perfect. Too perfect.”
 
They were discussing the other electronic woman in Chuck’s life, the Armaborg Princess. Diana.
 
When Chuck had decided that flesh and blood women weren’t for him anymore, he had gone all out on the Armaborg. Truly the model he had purchased was everything a man could want, and even more. Tall, sophisticated, generous, stunning. Fucked like racehorse that knew how to cuddle afterwards.
 
“She fucks like a racehorse,” Chuck complained into the phone. “Then holds me afterwards, like I am all that matters in her life.”
 
“That sounds lovely,” Camilla said.
 
“It is, but… I think she’s being insincere. I mean, she out of my league, she must know that. Even a robot can tell when it’s slumming, and how long will it go on?”
 
“As long as he programming tells her to, I would imagine.” Camilla replied. Chuck could hear the pull and hiss of a cigarette being smoked, even though Camilla was no more than a bundle of wires. Truly technology was amazing.
 
“It’s not just the sex,” Chuck said. “It’s everything. She’s spending all my money on charities. Cancer, STD’s, land mine removal.”
 
“One can take caring too far,” Camilla said.
 
“Yes, that’s true! One can! It’s not the money really- I make enough, I suppose, and she’s always willing to do without, But it makes me look bad, that my robot seems to care about others more than I do. I mean, I’m the man, aren’t I Camilla?”
 
“You are the man, Charles,” she said.
 
“So why am I intimidated by her? She’s programmed to love me, to do what I say. She’s sunbathing topless on the deck right now –even though the reporters keep trying to snap her with her shirt off, I think she ENJOYS teasing them- but if I told her to, she’d come in here and suck me off even while I talked to you, but I can’t ask her to because I feel dirty.”
 
“I thought you liked to be dirty,” Camilla said slyly.
 
“Usually,” Chuck said, liking where this was going. He undid his pants.
 
Diana walked in when he wasn’t quite done. She blushed and ran into the kitchen.
 
#
 
“I think she’s up to something,” Chuck said. “With the dedicated oil delivery unit, the DODI.”
 
“The oil unit?” Camilla asked, shocked.
 
“Why not? They’re both machines!”
 
“Well, yes, Charles, but she’s programmed to love you, and the DODI isn’t programmed to love at all.”
 
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve seen how she handles the thermostat, and how she fuels the car. She pays more loving attention to that hose than any organ of mine. It’s scandalous!”
 
“Poor Charles, whatever will you do?”
 
“I’ll catch them at it, that’s what!”
 
“Charles, as clever as you usually are, you must realize that they are both machines owned by you. You can do whatever you wish to them.”
 
“You mean… kill them?”
 
“I meant reprogram them, Charles.”
 
Charles had heard the undertones. “I understand,” he said.
 
#
 
The explosion was bigger than Charles had expected. Diana and the DODI were destroyed beyond all recovery, as was his entire house. That was a bit sad, but it was all insured, and besides, all the awards and honorariums the Diana had received for her charity work were lost to the fire. He’d never have to look at his own narrow and drawn face reflected in the polished brass and silver expressions of gratitude ever again. 
 
He had one day of peace. One. Then the reporters found him.
 
#
 
“I had one day of peace Camilla, ONE!” Chuck exclaimed. “But now the reporters won’t leave me alone. ‘How are you recognizing the loss of Diana’, they ask, ‘Will you continue her charitable giving,’ they say. ‘Your robot touched so many lives!’ “ Chuck said in a nasally impersonation of a reporter with an American accent. “ ‘You must have been so proud!’ ”
 
“It’s being called a tragedy,” Camilla said. “Everyone loved her so much.”
 
“They can have her,” Chuck said. “Getting rid of her was the best thing I ever did.”
 
There was a beep on the line- another call. Chuck asked Camilla to hold (he could afford to talk to her all day, now that Di was gone) and clicked over.
 
It was the fire department -and the police -and the oil company he had leased the DODI unit from- were THEY mad -and it was the media, and they were all on-line at the same time, like some kind of conference-call lynch mob. Then the doorbell began to ring, and there was knocking at the back door, and even at the windows. He glanced outside and saw a crowd was gathering.
 
He clicked back over to Camilla. “Cam, I think I’m in trouble.” He stood up and went to the window, pulling a curtain aside for a closer look. A brick smashed through the glass. “Oh, I am so screwed!” Chuck said. “Royally screwed.”
 

“Poor dear,” Camilla said.

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Comments

3 Responses to “FFCEpsilon: Royally Screwed by Gordon Weir”

  1. Alexander Hay on May 10th, 2008 8:50 am

    We are not amused… Well, actually we are, but not as much as when evil Nazi scientists created Wallace Simpson and nearly brought the Empire to its knees.

  2. G. Weir on May 10th, 2008 10:00 am

    The Nazis created her? I should have guessed. thought I recognized their foul stench when she was first brought on board…

  3. Natalie L. Sin on May 23rd, 2008 9:31 am

    Sweet : )

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