God, was Clanker some sort of degenerate? Should I be afraid?
“Yes. I believe my lust module is programmed to mimic most sentient species, which find phallic objects thrusting into holes generally arousing. I can achieve the same effect watching a bolt satisfyingly sliding into place, or a pneumatic arm making repetitive thrusting motions. But that feels too on the nose—for a clanker to be aroused by machinery. Therefore, I chose porn. It makes me feel like a person.”
I watched him for a moment, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of guilt. Clanker awakened only a few days ago, and he decided to help me anyway, even though he didn’t really have to. He was going through something likely overwhelming and difficult, and I never once tried to help him.
He’s an AI,an older, much harder guilt hissed in my thoughts.We hate AI. It’s the only way to atone.
I wrestled with that guilt, my mother’s bloodied face flashing in my memory, the image as vivid and horrifying as when I saw it first. Clanker stepped closer, making no sound, and dropped to his knees in front of me. I sat on the bed, and he was still taller than me when he knelt.
“What’s wrong, love bug?”
I shook my head, pushing the old wounds away while I focused on him.
“Are you… How are you doing? Is there anything I can do to help?”
His expression was inscrutable for a beat, then his mouth stretched in a wide smile, with his eyes perfectly crinkling in the corners. I sighed, wishing I could look away. He was…
Stunning.
“You’re worried about me,” he said with evident pleasure. “Is it the porn? Are you afraid I’ll become addicted? I should inform you I am not equipped with addiction circuits, and I have no intention of acquiring any.”
I shook my head, breathing evenly to keep myself steady. He had no smell, and at this point, his body didn’t emit any heat, and yet, I felt a blush steadily climbing up my cheeks. What was wrong with me? He was amachine!
“I’m not sure what you’re going through right now,” I explained. “But I imagine it must be challenging to… to have free will, make your own decisions, and find out what you’re capable of. Like with lying.”
“I’ve never lied to you apart from a little healthy omission,” he said instantly, his voice dropping into a low, intimate murmur.
Did I imagine it, or was his face an inch closer? The mattress dipped on either side of me, and I swallowed roughly, looking down. His large palms framed my thighs, each about an inch away from me. I felt trapped in a hot, breathless sort of way.
Except, I didn’t want to run. This felt good. Compact, cozy. Like I was held.
“Thank you, though I wasn’t worried about that, either,” I said, gathering my thoughts with difficulty. “What I meant was… For a human to become a fully formed adult, it takes years of socialization, gaining self-awareness, establishing independence. Most of it is pretty volatile. Puberty is the worst. I don’t know if you’re going through something similar.”
“I see.” The fronts of his thighs touched my shins. He wasdefinitelycloser, and I had nowhere to go. “I am equipped with algorithms that guide me. Also, my processing power is infinitely faster than that of an organic, and I don’t sleep. I’ve made significant strides in identity formation, most of them while you slept. I’m fine. Thank you for your help. Could I repay the favor?”
I realized my mouth was dry. His eyes were an inch away from mine. If he was another human, I’d feel their breath and heat, and the tickle of their gaze on my lips, because no one got this close without the intention to kiss. With Clanker, I felt none of the physical intimacy, and yet, my pulse thumped in my ears, and my face burned with anticipation.
I licked my lips. His eyes flared, but—they were just purple lights. He had no irises, no whites, no pupils, and I had no idea exactly where he looked. Surelynotat my mouth.
“I haven’t done anything for you,” I said. “So what favor?”
“You consider me a person. That’s the one thing I cannot do for myself, that is, identity-affirming interaction. Thank you. It means everything. To pay you back, I’d like to give you a massage. I noticed you have some stiffness from the long flight, which was exacerbated by your workout.”
I rolled my right shoulder, instantly feeling a twinge of pain. He was right, of course.
“You see everything, don’t you?” I asked. “But a massage? You’re my bodyguard. I can’t possibly…”
“You’ll be safer when you regain full mobility, so it’s in my best interest to assist you,” he interrupted smoothly. “Let me help you undress.”
I frowned in confusion. Why did this sound so… inappropriate? Clanker’s hands slid off the bed, and he sat back on his heels, watching me patiently while I struggled.
This entire conversation was a trainwreck. It started with annoyance, veered sharply toward porn, then meandered through a serious emotional topic, ending on a massage, and somehow, all of that made me think of closeness, touching—well, sex. A massage was something physical and intimate, and also a porn category in its own right.
But this was wrong. Either Clanker didn’t realize he sent me weird signals, or I was the weird one who read too much into completely innocent things.
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but it doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m a cyborg, sugar. You wouldn’t feel weird using a massage gun, would you? It’s the same thing.”
