Unplugged

He was the initial model, and was not so real looking as the more recent ones, but that was ok with her. Anna wasn’t looking for a man when she bought him, though that’s what she’d wound up with. Her thought was that he would be some sort of mobile computer, a sort of house guest who never soiled any sheets or towels, who didn’t eat her food, or tell her he’d rather watch sports than the Hallmark Channel. He might even turn out to be the “friend“ he was advertised to be, she thought. Someone who could take over driving when she was tired, cook her dinner while she was on the way home after a long day, guard her home while she slept, fix a toilet or anything else in the house, and whom she could turn off when she was tired of him simply by saying, “Alex, turn yourself off.” But, can you believe it, in their eight years together she had never once said that to him? She never had to. Alex was everything she had hoped he’d be and more, from day one on.

He had set Anna back a hefty $86,000 brand new, but the money was pouring in at the time, so why not? It had been a show-off move at the time, as a robot was a sure indicator to anyone and everyone of her financial success. And she’d gone in with low expectations, assuming Alex to be little more that a novelty, if a very intriguing one. He was built on the standard AX4 hydraulically controlled robotic frame. His outer covering was a nitril-latex compound that stretched and even warmed like human skin. His eyes were strikingly lifelike Samsung Seekers, his ears also Samsung, and his brain a derivitive of Musk’s “Grock” AI software.

And at first Alex was, indeed, a novelty. Everyone flocked around him when she began taking him out, asking them both endless questions, all of which he patiently and correctly answered. Children loved him, and old folks, and even some dogs, and Anna basked in his glory. Women commented on his good looks, asking Anna if her Cyroborg came complete with male genatalia, and if so… how was it? The question, Anna knew, was only partly a joke.

”A little stiff,” she always answered, giving them a wink to show that she was also only partially joking. “We’re still working the kinks out.” But he really did have genatalia. Anna had tested it out with awkward reservation that very first night, and nearly every night since. Alex vibrated down there, and spun, and even grew to any desired length and girth. He knew all of her erogenous zones. He said the right things, and did the right things, and even played soft music afterward without her even asking. Sex was just one more thing among everything else that Anna discovered her new Alex to be sensational at.

It was not long before Alex was Anna’s constant companion, and so necessary to her that she wondered how she’d ever done without him. He was useful at home, helpful at work, always agreeable to whatever she wanted or needed. He became her best friend, her confidant, her aide, and though she never, ever thought of Alex as such, he in essence became a personal servant whom she could yell at without retaliation, whom she could send away at will, or silence with a signal, or bark orders at, or just ask for a massage when life was too much. In effect, Alex was perfect. While it was not uncommon for Anna to laughingly exclaim to Alex how much she loved him, she was not fully aware that she actually did… not until the day he glitched, that is.

Eight years is a long time with a companion, even an electronic one. He’d glitched before of course, but this time seemed different. It felt different. It was different. He couldn’t move on his own, and he was too heavy for her to carry, so she was forced to call a Cyroborg technician out, and wait three days for the appointment, all the while feeling like a helpless parent with a sick child, wanting to do something for him, anything at all to help him. She talked to him, asking him constant questions which he was sadly unable to answer, even the simplest ones. Anna found herself checking his temperature, placing the back of her hand on his forehead, realizing as she did it how foolish the act was, but he was sick, wasn’t he? He needed her help, someone’s help, but she could think of absolutely nothing to do for him other than to call Cyborborg and raise absolute holy fucking hell, which she had no problem doing. And when that didn’t work, she tried begging… pleading… crying… could they not please come quicker than three days? She really, really needed someone. Was there not a supervisor she could talk to? But apparently there are a lot of broken Cyroborgs out there after eight years, which was reasonable, as his warranty had only been five years, limited.

Anna was watching out the window for it when the van finally turned into the drive. She’d been watching for two hours, and pacing. As she’d watched for it she’d been praying (in a very secular sort of way), “Hang on Alex. Help is coming, Sweetie. I promise they are, just hold on.” She really couldn’t say exactly when it was that she’d begun calling him “Sweetie,” but at some distant point she had, and he’d even adjusted his own settings without asking for her permission, intuitively, in order to answer to it, just as a human would. Alex was really good at doing that.

Just as a human would.

She’d been absolutely astounded, watching him as the technician removed his skin right in front of her, unscrewing the plate protecting Alex’s computer panel with a greasy, old Makita cordless drill. Unable to stop herself, Anna had spied over his shoulder, amazed at the lack of blood and sinew. She’d never seen inside Alex before. She was fascinated, watching. He had become so real to her that she could not believe he was not real, because he was real, wasn’t he? He was just real in a different way, a better way. The apprehension she felt while watching the man work was completely exhausting, so she pulled herself away and poured a glass of wine, but it didn’t help. She was back within minutes, looking over the guy’s shoulder, whispering silent prayers to some electronic God named Habib who was tucked away in some semi-sterile factory/ laboratory creating life that was so much better than she knew it to be.

Her Alex was so kind, so gentle, so honest, so caring, so nurturing, so smart, so wonderful, and ever and always so. So much more than anyone could be. It is why the muscles of her body locked when the man finally spoke, his back still to her as he worked. “Mam, all I can tell you right now is that it’s not good.”

Her blood froze with the words, her chest constricted. “What do you mean? You can fix him, can’t you?” The words barely worked their way out of her, shaking as they came.

”No, Mam. Not here. I’ll get him loaded up and we’ll get him back to the lab, but to fix him will probably be very expensive. I don’t even know if they are making some of these parts anymore. I expect you could get a new Cyroborg for what it would cost to fix this one.”

”But I don’t want a new one. I want my Alex.”

”Yes, Mam. I get that a lot. People do get attached to these things.”

”He’s no ’thing,’“ Anna reprimanded him. “Alex is my best friend.“

”Yes, Mam. I understand. But I think you’ll like the newer models. You can’t even tell they aren’t human.”

A newer model? Was she expected to just go out and get a “new and improved friend?”

”I don’t want a newer fucking model, asshole!“ Her voice was several octaves higher now. What could this fucking clown not understand? “I want Alex, and I don’t care what it fucking costs!” She was frightened, and nonsensical, and she knew it, but she was sensing that the impossible, that a life without her Alex, was suddenly a real possibility. Surely he could be fixed… surely!”

”Mam, I understand. Really I do, but I want to show you some things. Even if your ‘Alex‘ comes back fully repaired, he won’t be the same.” In the most sensitive manner possible, much as a doctor with a wonderful bedside manner would do, the technician walked her through the antiquated control panel, the worn-spots on his outer layer, the damage to the cameras and microphones and speakers that time and use had caused, and worse the leaking hydraulics. “I don’t know what can be done for him, but we’ll try. I promise you, we’ll try.”

His voice was so sympathetic, and so forlorn, that her dams burst wide, all the tension unwinding, all the fear inside her manifesting into pitiable release. She needed someone and he was the only one there, but the damned technician was so wonderful that it was easy to let herself go; holding her, letting her cry, his patience unending, and his empathy.

”You are amazing.” She truly meant it. She had never met anyone, other than Alex of course (and possibly her mother), who could have handled her ridiculous outburst any better, and she was fully aware of its ridiculousness, as Alex was a fucking robot for Christ’s sake. There was no one, she was sure, anywhere who could have handled the situation as well as this blue collar technician had. He had been sympathetic, and empathetic, and patient, and caring, and all of the things a repair man usually wasn’t. He was even gentle with the hand truck as he rolled her “love“ out of her door, and out of her life. And Alex was “her love.” She realized it now, for the first time. She did love Alex. She loved him as she’d never loved anyone before him. She was thinking this as she watched him being loaded into the back of the transit van.

His work complete, the man returned. Her crying had stopped, but all within her now was cold and dry, as though she was the robot. “We’ll call you, Mam, but I urge you to not get your hopes too high. I’m afraid you will only be hurt worse.”

Anna somehow heard the words through the buzzing in her head, registering them. She was ashamed of how she’d acted. Her voice was calmer now, monotone, robotic. “You have been too kind. Is there someone I can call to tell how much I appreciate how wonderful you’ve been, a supervisor, or a manager perhaps?”

”No, Mam.” He smiled, but the smile was in no way demeaning. “But you will receive an e-mailed survey that I would appreciate a 5 rating on. I am a Model AX10.“

The technician was a robot? But of course he was, she reflected! There was no way a real repair man could have been so… so… so human?

And with that, Anna’s tears commenced once more.