Love and Robotics (46 page)

Volte Face

The decision to marry Josh off had not been taken lightly. Following his return to CER, the leading figures holed themselves up in the boardroom. They didn’t know Pip had hacked into the cams and watched as she typed up her reports.

The first hour was spent apportioning blame. As far as Adrian was concerned,
someone
had been exceptionally lax.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, allowing that degenerate unrestricted access to Josh. They might’ve been doing anything!”

“It made Josh happy,” Sugar snapped.

Adrian sneered. “Noah, I know you’re attached to him, but emotions don’t come into it.” Making quotation marks with his fingers, “He can’t be ‘happy’. He can’t be ‘sad’. He just ‘is’. Thanks to your sentimentality, you’ve allowed him to be groomed by a pervert.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Ozols might have looked like she was teasing Monty with a piece of string, but she was paying full attention. “So what if he fancies a guy? We’re modern people, aren’t we?”

Though both Sugar and Fisk had issues with this statement, Adrian answered. “It’s not the image we want to project! It’s not normal! And certainly
not
with that demented, violent, boozing -”

“Who instead?” Malik didn’t normally contribute unless it was to make an acid comment. Heads turned her way.

“What do you mean?” Fisk asked tonelessly.

“Love is the outcome of certain schema.” Malik ticked them off on her fingers. “Attractiveness - Langton does nothing for
me
, but plenty of people would spend pocket money on him. Compatibility - they obviously enjoy each other’s company. Proximity - they’ve been living together a year. Things are bound to happen.”

“Are these the technical terms, doctor?” Adrian sniped.

“Just dumbing down for my audience.”

Sienna cleared her throat. As the head of Marketing and PR, they couldn’t make decisions without her input. “Are you saying these conditions could be created with somebody else? Somebody more appropriate?”

They imagined the perfect mate for Josh. Somebody who was psychologically sound, who could be trusted not to do anything embarrassing. Somebody ignorant of robotics, who wouldn’t ask awkward questions. Somebody photogenic, who wouldn’t object to the round of engagements that was Josh’s life. Above all, somebody female and
young
.

“I don’t see why we can’t give this further thought.” Adrian was as transparent as a child.

Ozols looked at her colleagues in disbelief. “I don’t believe I’m hearing this. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

Sugar returned from his inner hell. “I don’t care who he’s with, as long as it isn’t that old bugger.”

“Me too,” Fisk whispered.

“Right.” Sienna clapped her hands. “I’m going to place an announcement. There must be thousands of girls who’d jump at the chance!”

The doctors clamoured to get to the door first, as though they were implicated in something shameful. Only Adrian left with a spring in his step. Fisk went to creep upstairs, hands limp at her sides. Somebody touched her arm.

“What now?” she complained.

Malik smirked. “Are you seeing the PM or shall I?”

The question was academic: of course it would be Fisk. She doubted the Prime Minister knew who Malik was.

Fisk seethed as she prepared for the interview. She’d thought that by deleting the file she would be wiping Josh clean, freeing him from Langton’s influence. Now they were talking about marrying him to some silly little girl he hadn’t even met!

She was convinced Sugar had guessed her secret. When he wasn’t skulking like a disgraced dog, he was treating her to long, searching stares. He would never say, of course. They had worked together for twenty years but that conversation in his office was the most intimate they had shared.

She was announced at the Forum, Olive Omatayo greeting her with polite boredom. Fisk saw herself through the Prime Minister’s eyes: a wraith in a twinset.

She sat in the Yellow Room while Olive prepared the tea. The previous Prime Minister had used one of CER’s service robots; the contract was discontinued when Olive entered office. She carried the cups clumsily, setting them near the table’s edge. Fisk sipped hers and wished she hadn’t.

Olive said something she didn’t catch. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been following your robot’s adventures with interest. Whoever writes those articles does a sterling job.”

“Josh writes them.”

“Of course he does.” Olive drank her tea and made a face. “How can I help? I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with you people once the Session was over.”

Fisk couldn’t think how to begin, but she must. “We have - CER has - Josh needs to get married.”

The cup jolted, splashing them both with tea. “What?”

There are few things as uncomfortable as explaining an unpalatable idea to someone who doesn’t want to hear it. Fisk thought, as hadn’t been considered in the boardroom, how frivolous it sounded. Like any timid person with a superiority complex, she dreaded having to justify herself. She dared to sneak a glance at the PM and was unnerved to see she wasn’t angry or even shocked. It was the expression she wore in the Forum before she blindsided someone.

“I wish I could say this was wholly unexpected, but it isn’t. Are you determined to go through with it? Never mind it’s doomed to failure?”

“There’s no reason why -”

“In other words, you’re asking me to backtrack everything I’ve put into place over the last few months, to spare your blushes. Am I to assume that a certain someone has overstepped the mark?”

Fisk was too miserable to answer.

“I knew it. Don’t come whimpering to me when it goes wrong.”

Olive downed the last of the tea and pointedly picked up the speakertube. Fisk was dismissed.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she mumbled.

Olive covered the tube and said coldly, “Do what you like. If I had my way, CER wouldn’t exist.”

The news filtered down to the staff. Mandy went into mourning - you expected her to don a black armband. Tatum shared her theory about the star crossed love between Josh and Lord Langton and was told to shut up. Ravi exclaimed, “You go, my son!” and offered Josh dating tips. Since the irregular was the norm at CER, it soon passed out of mind. It didn’t affect their lives after all.

Except for Pip. She did mind. She was that rarest of birds, a promiscuous romantic. What kind of friend would she be if she didn’t help the truest love she had known? So she went up to Adrian’s office and rapped on the door.

“Don’t come in just yet!” he bleated.

She didn’t have time for this. She pushed open the door and caught Adrian in the act of arranging numerous pictures of himself on his desk.

“What can I do you for, hmm?”

Regrettably we often find ourselves working for people we can’t respect. Adrian Pinder must have been one of the most egregious examples forced upon a company. How he had attained his present post was a mystery. He had no understanding of or interest in robotics, annoyed and upset visitors, and lacked the most fundamental social skills. Just a moment’s conversation exposed him as a vain, obnoxious poseur with the warmth and intelligence of yoghurt.

“Pippa Profitt,” she said wearily. “I wanted to talk to y’ ‘bout Josh gettin’ married.”

Adrian studied her in a way he’d read was imposing. “What’s it got to do with you?”

“Josh is my friend. His welfare means a lot to me. I don’ think we should be makin’ decisions about his future without consultin’ him first.”

Adrian sat on the edge of his desk.“Ms Pratchett, we
own
Josh. Talking about his ‘welfare’ and ‘future’ is beside the point. We believe this is the right thing for the company’s international profile -”

“Is it fair on Lord Langton? Josh loves him.”

He nearly toppled from the desk. “You have quite the imagination, Ms Pritchard.”

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. What you’re doin’ is wrong.”

He pushed his face forward so she could smell the steak and kidney pie he’d had for lunch. “Young lady, you are skating on very thin ice. You are meddling with matters that are no concern of yours. If you value your future with this company, drop it.”

She opened her mouth but thought better of it. She loved her job; she couldn’t guarantee the next one would suit her as well. Feeling like a traitor, and mentally apologising to Josh, she mumbled, “Yessir.”

“Good girl. Run along!”

Lila witnessed an extraordinary series of events that week, forcing all other topics out of the news. The Prime Minister’s volte face was remarkable enough, amounting to “Perhaps I was mistaken” through gritted teeth. A few days later - everyone counted - CER announced they were holding a competition to find Josh Foster a wife.

The coverage was intense. Articles on both sides of the debate appeared, a single called
The Robot Wants a Wife
was released. Satirists and cartoonists rejoiced. Crispin Clay, never one to miss a trick, ran a weeklong series of robot themed shows (
In Love with my Robot Babysitter
and other worthy transmissions). The AAL organised rallies, interrupted the Forum and generally made a nuisance of themselves. Everyone waited for a scathing attack from Lord Langton. It never came. In fact, no one could remember the last time they had seen him.

The press followed Sienna’s tour craft around the country. She selected girls according to “certain desirable qualities” (no one knew what these were), Josh having the last word. Once the final six had been chosen, the competition would unfold in a secret location, every moment filmed. It was the first programme of its kind and everyone was agog.

***

The girls had been picked. Filming would begin the following day. Jerry Etruscus had laid on a multimillion Q firework display in celebration. CER heckled Josh to attend the opening but he was obstinate. There was somewhere else he needed to be.

Alfred and Josh were watching the display from Josh’s flat. Josh wanted to let go and have fun; Alfred could only think of losing him. It didn’t help he kept having flashbacks to their last night together.

Josh was asking something; he had to attend. “Hmm?”

“How do fireworks work?”

He listened attentively to the explanation. It was probably wildly inaccurate, but Alfred had never claimed to be a scientist.             

“They’re purely decorative? No other purpose?”

“Yes.” Alfred wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

“Then I like them. Everything’s got to have a reason at CER, it gets on my nerves. Books don’t have a purpose. Nor do pictures.”

“They help you to live beautifully.”

“You don’t have a purpose either.”

“That’s the most backhanded compliment I’ve had!”

“Neither do I. We’re just ourselves.”

They lay on the mat and watched the stars shatter. Some were red and gold cross stitches, others fluffy pink and white bouquets. Alfred’s favourites were the spinning wheels, shooting round at unbelievable speeds. A stylised robot marched across the sky, saluting before fizzling out.

“Must be costing Jerry a fortune.”

Josh dimpled. “I’m glad he didn’t tie me to one.”

Alfred grinned and poured more wine. They’d been working their way through Chimera’s cellar, trying to establish Josh’s preferences. A dry white, it seemed. Red knocked him out and champagne burned his insides.

Now came the jumping jacks. Josh clutched Alfred’s arm. He didn’t like loud bangs.

“It’s okay,” Alfred said through a curtain of golden hair. “They’re up there, we’re down here.”

“You probably think I’m silly.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s been really nice this evening. Good food, good company. Who knows where I’ll be tomorrow.”

“Don’t you know?”

“It’s secret. Cut off from the rest of the world, Sienna says.”

“She’s teasing.”

“I’m only allowed one book. Who knows what I’ll do once I’ve finished.”

“Which one?”

“Lewis Sinclair’s
Without A Paddle
.”

“Good choice. Wait till you reach the part with the eels.”

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“What if none of the girls like me?”

“Be yourself. It works.”

“What if I don’t fall in love? We’ll lose funding, I’ll get decommissioned -”

“That’s paranoia talking.”

“I know how I’m
supposed
to feel. Like everything stops when I see her. That I want to spend the rest of my life sharing her thoughts and listening to her stories.”

“Things don’t happen the way they do in books.”

“I wish they could. It’d be much easier.”

Josh was in need of a hug so Alfred put his arms around him. When he showed no sign of objecting, he nudged his nose beneath his ear. He licked a trail from his ear lobe to his collar bone, kissed him -