a stealth robot. A good one.”
“Not that good if you can recognize me as such,” said the intruder, suddenly dropping into focus. He gave a charming smile. “Call me Chris.”
Judy remained silent. Frances held out her hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Chris. What does the EA want with us?”
“Not the Environment Agency. The Watcher had me come here.”
Judy said nothing. If there had been another human in the room, her body would have appeared perfectly still. Frances wouldn’t be fooled; she would be monitoring her friend’s vital signs and noting the patterns of tension that ran through her muscles on hearing Chris’ words.
Judy’s voice remained level. “I don’t believe you. The Watcher doesn’t exist. It’s only a fairy story made up by those who need to anthropomorphize causality.”
Chris gave a wide smile. “Oh Judy, we both know you don’t mean that. Face it, I can read your mind just as easily as Frances here can. Even more easily, in fact.”
Judy held her composure. She was feeling the robot with her MTPH-enhanced senses. He was like nothing she had ever encountered. The skin was not something that existed as an object in its own right, like the silk of her chemise or the metal frame of the antique seats; rather it was nothing more than a bounding region between the inside of Chris and the outside. It shimmered and moved as she ran her mind over it, constantly changing.
– Touch me. See what I feel like.
The words appeared directly in her mind, and Judy reeled in astonishment. She mentally centered herself, drew herself into her own body, felt the soft silk that she was wearing touch her own skin, felt the cold of the floor through her thin white tabi socks. Now she looked at Chris and focused on him. Was he using telepathy? Was that possible?
– Oh, yes, it is. MTPH is an idea that is entwined with human development. It can free your mind in ways you would not believe. Someday you will see. Now, touch me.
Judy walked forward, stepping over the wooden slats that littered the floor. Chris reached out and took her arm, guided her gently away from a loose nail.
“You’re beautiful,” Judy murmured, sensing what he had just done. She gazed into his dark eyes.
“I know,” Chris said.
The robot
“I can’t feel anything,” Judy said.
“How about now?”
Judy felt warm flesh, then cold ice, then an invigorating prickling that seemed to massage her hand.
“That feels nice,” she said.
“You chose to remain a virgin,” said Chris.
“At this moment I find my resolve weakening,” said Judy truthfully. She touched the robot’s chin and felt warm skin and rough stubble.
Chris stared at her. “Why?” he asked.
“Because…”
“You’re reconsidering.”
“I am weakening,” breathed Judy. “However”-she snapped out the word, effectively throwing the switch on her emotions-“weakening is not enough.” She took her hand from Chris and folded it back into her sleeve. “So I believe you. You were sent by the Watcher. I have heard it said that the technology we use now, the Watcher knew about one hundred years ago. The Watcher reserves the best for itself and makes the ordinary available to humans.”
“And I’m the living proof.”
“So what do you want with us?”
Chris sat down in one of the padded chairs. He steepled his fingers and looked up at Judy and Frances.
“I want you to be aware that we’re watching you.”
“Surely the Watcher is always watching us,” said Frances. “Hence the name.”
Chris smiled at Frances, a beautiful smile.
“That doesn’t work on me,” said Frances. “You’re tuned in to Judy’s libido. Anyway, I think that Judy has worked out that the sexual aspect to your appearance is just a distraction.”
“Judy hadn’t realized it until you pointed it out to her in that last sentence.” He laughed. “As we both know.”
Judy relaxed her impassive pose and slumped into a chair next to Chris. There was no point maintaining her professional manner when both other parties could read exactly what she was thinking.
“Are you going to conduct your conversation via my subconscious reactions, or are you actually going to allow me to speak?”
“He’ll allow you to speak,” said Frances. “All robots do the same for humans. It’s good psychology.”
Chris turned to face Judy. The movement of his fluid body was like molten glass.
“Judy, something has changed about you since Judy 3 and 11 visited you last night.”
There was no point lying. “They told me something that shocked me.”
“What?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
Chris smiled a beautiful smile, carved from the finest lead crystal.
“No answer,” said Judy. “So is this meeting a fact-finding mission or a warning? Or something else?” She smoothed the edges of her layered kimonos flat, thereby concealing the colors of the linings. Now she was a white woman only. “Is the Watcher going to kill me if I reveal what I know?”
Chris gave her a disappointed look. “The Watcher does not kill, surely you know that? Judy, you should not believe everything you are told. Still, here is some advice: open your mind. Your life is changing.”
Judy looked at the robot.
“What do you mean?”
“I have a bad thing on my mind, Judy.” He looked at her significantly. “You’ll see.”
The viewscreen at the front of the shuttle was beginning to glow red.
“We’ve hit the atmosphere,” said Chris. “We have about twenty minutes before we land. Frances, what happened to Judy 11?”
“You seem to be much more advanced than me,” said Frances. “Can’t you read my mind?”
Chris leaned closer to her. “Not as such,” he said. “But I believe I can see something there.”
Frances said nothing. Judy gazed at the two robots, seemingly frozen in place. She was trying to feel what they were doing, MTPH-enhanced senses soaking up every possible piece of information there in the cabin. It was no use: the two were communicating on a completely different level than human senses. As the red glow of reentry built up outside, Judy felt as if the temperature in the cabin was rising. But she knew that was all pure imagination.
Or was it? One of Chris’ hands moved, running itself down the front of Frances’ golden body. Judy looked on in slightly horrified fascination as a grey crystal finger began to draw lazy circles around the top of one of Frances’ thighs. The circles grew smaller and smaller as his finger moved closer and closer to his target.
Gently, he pressed one of the buttons between Frances’ legs. The robot bent her knee, ever so slightly.
“Don’t mind me,” muttered Judy, turning to look through the screen at the brilliant plasma glow beyond.
The shuttle skimmed across the surface of the sea, lazily weaving in and out of the colored sails of the yachts and dinghies that were making the most of the brisk coastal wind. Complex fields baffled the ship’s passage through the air, so that its passing barely disturbed the white foam flecking the busy waves.
The shuttle decelerated as it approached the shoreline, lowering four flexible legs as it slowed in such a fashion that the point at which its lift vanished and its speed and altitude became zero were contemporaneous. Its legs touched the ground lightly.
“An elegant landing,” said Chris, disengaging from Frances. “And now, ladies, I must leave you.” The grey sheen drained from his body as he gradually became transparent.
