Hardwired for Love

What is love when the lover has no choice?

            My true name is Love Model Number 65, but my master calls me Stacy.  Stacy is the name of his old girlfriend.  She left him for a body builder.  I am not her copy--I suppose that would be too painful for him.  No, I am my own…being. 

I am not a person… 

I am an android… 

My master made me…

He made me for love…

            I am perfect, he tells me.  My hair--horse hair, the kind used for wigs in the old days--is blonde.  My eyes--glass--are blue, like the ocean, he tells me.  My proportions are 36-24-36, like his favorite song--I hope that makes me his favorite, too.  I am made to be pleasing to the eye.  But, like I said, I was not just made for pleasure.

I was made for love…

            When I first opened my eyes, he was there, and I knew then that I would love him until the day my core battery died.  I know this is because of how I was programmed; but I cannot help it, so it must be so.

            My master was obviously amazed at what had come from his hard work--he fell over--I thought it was funny.

            I am Model 65 for a reason. 

            The first 15 were all pleasure prototypes.  My master says that, for a while, he thought that all he was missing was the physical things offered by a relationship.  He tried several types of pleasure models, and when those failed he even tried these strange pleasure model humans called “w****s,” but none of it worked.

            That was when he realized that he wanted more--companionship.  The models then became more human and more interactive.  Gradually, they became more and more advanced, until they finally took a new turn.  My master realized he wanted love, and so, at Model 55 his methods became even more elaborate.

            He won’t tell me exactly how he did it--he’s very insecure and paranoid that I’ll want a love model for myself one day.  But, finally--after several failed models--he ended up with me.

 

            I suppose it might seem strange to you. After all, being human--mammals--you are born seeing your parents for the first time. In a way, I was born seeing my father, and yet he is more than that. He is my creator, and so he is God to me. I was made to love him and only him, and so he is my lover, now and always.

Imagine waking for the first time in your life to see all three of these important beings in your life standing before you, wrapped into one beautiful, perfect package…

However, strange or not, our life was perfect for a time. From the first moment I saw him, he was almost always smiling; and when he wasn’t, I was doing everything I could to make him smile. His happiness meant the world to me.

He taught me everything he could inside his little apartment, all so we could have discussions and debates. Between my innumerable questions and his animated enthusiasm we never ran out of things to say or grew bored of talking. Sometimes we would talk into the early morning. But then, as it must be with humans, he would always have to go to sleep.

This was the time I hated most. As I’ve said, my master is very insecure and paranoid. So, every night, before he would go to sleep, he would kiss me softly on the lips, lay me down beside him, and turn my power off.

Being powered off is one of the most horrible experiences I can imagine. One second, you’re there, existing; and then, time cuts out. For an indefinite space of time, you no longer exist. No dreams, no awareness, nothing. There is no existence until you are powered up once more. And so, you can have no idea at all what has gone on around you.

I feel that, if I were able to be angry at my master, I would have been at these times.

But I was not made to be angry…

I was made to love…

            Things went on in this fashion for quite some time. I lived my days loving my master. Talking, laughing, playing, living. It was all a joy for me. When he had to leave I would be sad, for he would power me off and I would not even have enough awareness to miss him. When he came back I was happiest--being powered up just to see his smiling face and feel his warm lips heating my cold ones was one of the best experiences of my life.

 

            But it was not to last.

            My master had become addicted to me, he said. He started taking off of work just to stay home with me. I didn’t realize that this was a problem at the time, but people started to notice.

            On top of this, he would not have visitors. Anyone who came by was turned away at the door. He explained to me, after one of these instances, that no one could know about me. Apparently, at the time, it was considered illegal to create androids such as myself. Androids were to be used as servants and have as little human contact as possible.

People just weren’t comfortable with the thought of an interactive, and even human android…

            I was scared. Not for myself, but for my master. If they found out about me, what would they do to him?

I was to find out soon enough.

 

            After about a month, officers of the law were at our door. My master’s habits were becoming suspicious. They didn’t know what he was doing, but they were sure it was illegal. When he refused to open the door, they kicked it in. They took us both into custody almost immediately.

            We were separated for questioning. I don’t know what I did wrong. I simply answered their questions. There were angry words and gestures, nothing I understood. I was not used to anger. I was taken away to a cell where I was powered off.

 

            After who knows how much time, I was powered on again. I was in the middle of a courtroom. They questioned me again. This time, like before, I answered to the best of my abilities. The whole room was in an uproar.

            They moved me over to a chair to watch as they questioned my master. Toward the end, he broke down and turned hysterical.

 

“Please,” he cried. “You can’t do this to me!” He gestured wildly at me. “I don’t love it! I swear, I don’t! It’s just wires and metal! There’s nothing to love!”

 

            My core battery stuttered. I couldn’t have heard him right. My master had always said that he loved me. But he went on.

 

“I don’t care what you do with it! Destroy it! Take it apart! But you can’t kill me! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

 

            My battery stuttered again. It was true. My master did not love me. But what I hated even more than this realization was that, through the pain and sadness that suddenly overwhelmed me, I was still overwhelmed by the thought that they might actually kill him.

            I stood. They tried to push me down and failed. I took a step towards him. Someone reached out to power me down. I had an instant to think. I couldn’t save him. They’d probably end up shooting him if I tried. If they powered me down now, I might never wake up again.

            In my first instance of free will ever, I turned and ran out of the courtroom.

 

            They weren’t able to stop me. In a battle between metal and flesh, metal always wins. Once I was outside, I blended in easily--I did look fairly human after all. It was no time before I reached the cliffs at the edge of the city. And that is where I stand now.

 

            This is my first time seeing the ocean. My master never took me outdoors, for fear someone would recognize me for what I was. I wish he could have. We would have sat up here with the wind whipping our hair about us, talking, kissing. We could have made love, our bodies merging like the ocean waves against the shore.

            I shake my head. That is nothing but a dream, though. My master does not love me. Perhaps he never did. I wish I could make the same choice. But it’s a choice I’ve never had. I don’t know how my master programmed me to love him, and therefore I cannot reverse it.

            As I look down at the ocean, I wonder, Did God give the ocean a choice? It wraps the land in an eternal lover’s embrace; but, if it were not for God’s will, would it have chosen another lover? It starts to drizzle, and I wonder if the sky is crying for the ocean. A few sparks jump from my faux skin.

            I close my eyes and tilt my head back, wishing I had the ability to cry as the sky does. To cry for my broken heart, my lack of choice.

            In the distance, the church bell tolls three times. My master taught me once that this is done to signal the death of a criminal. I now know that the very reason for my existence has just been taken from the world. My core battery stutters again; my skin sparks. I open my eyes and look down at the ocean.

I was never given a choice…

I am not human…

I have no free will…

I was made to love…

I have no other purpose…

My purpose has just died…

            I close my eyes. I want so much to be powered off right now, but I know that if I am, someone might eventually wake me again. I don’t want that. I don’t want to feel this pain anymore.

Water is death to the machine, my master taught me…

Stay away from water…

If he could not love me in life, perhaps he can love me in death…

I am coming, master…Forgive me…

            I spread my arms and fall forward into the waiting ocean. Her waves reach up with open arms. A jolt runs through me as I hit the water.

 

The last thing I see before the darkness consumes me is my lover’s face…

Author's Note

Comments are very welcome. I did this for a contest, but from the looks of things, they don't like sci-fi or fantasy, they want real world.

Reviews

[Mary Evans]

Interesting piece. I like the story, its very intelligently written. The style and language are professional too. I hope you placed in the contest.
The end is a bit sad but really touching. The way you represented the android's mentality is really nice.
Keep up the good work.