SEX! Robot Style
Yes, from the guy who brought you Care Bear sex, it’s robot sex! This isn’t actually the first time I wrote about robot sex, though. Check out this old Transformers fanfic if you dare. That’s right, Transformer sex! See, I told you I have a problem. Now do you believe me?
We still have Crystal People sex and maybe plain old human sex.
Meanwhile, the two robots were creating a romantic scene of their own in the garval holding chamber. It’s not a misconception that robots can’t really love in the same way other beings could; they lacked the hormones that trick us into thinking we’re in love in order to procreate. That didn’t mean Ziggy couldn’t appreciate how beautiful Maia looked, especially in that low-cut dress.
He found the legs especially appealing. Not having any legs of his own, he admired how shapely hers were, how perfectly balanced, and how they managed to move her around the chamber so fluidly. He wanted to run his hands down those calves, to feel those sinewy muscles. He wanted to kiss those delicate toes and even those strong ankles.
One of RIGGED’s directives was no fraternization between robots. Most of the time this didn’t matter, as RIGGED did not have any “female” robots. Homosexuality wasn’t a problem either because underneath their robes, the “angels” were eunuchs. In any event it would have been a form of incest since every RIGGED robot sprung from the same assembly plant on Tukyon II, the plant employing a vertical monopoly as it occupied the entire planet’s surface.
Since Chet had deleted RIGGED’s directives, Ziggy found himself able to feel lust for the first time. Though like a thirteen-year-old with his first issue of Playboy, he didn’t really understand what he felt or what he should do about it. He did know about human intercourse from having witnessed it firsthand since prehistoric times, but that didn’t do him a lot of good.
“Is something wrong?” Maia asked.
“Do you need more lubricant?”
“For your squeegee.”
He looked up at the five-meter-long squeegee in his hands. Since Chet was babysitting and Dr. Irony was doing jump calculations, Maia had asked Ziggy to help her give the enormous garval a bath of sorts. Not with water, as no one cared if a garval was “clean” or smelled nice, but with a clear, gooey lubricant. This Maia said would help conduct the ion pulses Dr. Irony would trigger in order to stimulate the garval into forming the necessary wormhole. Ziggy was skeptical, but he couldn’t refuse the female robot. “Oh, right. I’m fine with that.”
“Make sure you get all the way around it. We don’t want to leave any bare spots.”
“What about his belly? You going to make this bugger roll over?”
She laughed at this, a girlish giggle that would have made Ziggy’s heart sing if he had a heart, but the wizards of RIGGED had not bothered to give him one. “We won’t need to worry about the belly. The rest of him will do.”
“Him? You’re sure this is a male?”
“So you have looked underneath him then, have you?”
She giggled again. “In a manner of speaking. Though at the time he was very small, about the size of your index finger.”
Ziggy looked at his index finger and then at the garval. “He went from that to that? How long did that take?”
“The process from birth to maturity took approximately two years, five months, and six days.”
Ziggy ran the squeegee over the garval’s back—or at least its back from this perspective. “Well, happy anniversary, mate.”
Maia giggled for a third time and then set her squeegee on the floor. She eased over to him, putting one hand around his wrist. “Your strokes are crooked. Let me help you.”
“Thank you, love, but—”
It came as a surprise to him when she kissed him. Maia had never been programmed with RIGGED’s directives and through the garvalnet had done some research on human behavior so that she could better imitate her likeness. For the most part she found Earth culture crude and shallow, but she did enjoy soap operas for reasons she couldn’t entirely understand. She couldn’t try any of what she’d learned on Dr. Irony—he had programmed that directive in to avoid any unpleasant sexual harassment suits—but she could use it to seduce Ziggy. Not that he needed much in the way of seducing.
Maia had been waiting for this moment since meeting Ziggy in the airlock. She’d seen other RIGGED robots before, but not up close like this. She had to admit for what Dr. Irony called an “evil, soulless bureaucracy,” RIGGED could design quite the automated beefcake.
As she’d seen on the human television programs, she kissed first with her lips. While this went on, she unzipped her dress with one hand. This was a superfluous step since neither of them had any actual sex organs. Still, she ran her other hand along Ziggy’s body, finding the zipper for his robe.
The most awkward part was getting Ziggy to lie on the ground. This proved difficult because his hoverjets were designed to maintain his balance unless overridden by him or some outside force such as Sadie in the guise of an electric eel. She had to pull her lips back and whisper as seductively as the women on the soap operas, “I need you to lie down on the floor, please.”
“You do? Why?”
“So that we can make love.”
“Lie back and I’ll show you.”
Ziggy didn’t need to be asked a third time. He overrode his hoverjets so that he could collapse onto his back on the floor. He couldn’t reach down to massage her legs, but he could grope her breasts. What else could he do? He consulted his observation of humans for any practical advice. He brushed her dark hair away from her neck to kiss her there.
She shook her head. “That’s not how you do it,” she said.
“Oh. Terribly sorry. This is my first time—with another robot,” he said, trying to maintain some of his masculinity, such as it was.
“Just put your head back. I know what to do.” She kissed him again, only this time a cable extended from her mouth like a ten-foot-long metallic tongue. This cable slithered down Ziggy’s throat, searching for the proper input jack at the base of his neck. Finding this, the cable inserted itself into the jack.
Now Ziggy understood what Maia had wanted. The moment the cable connected with his jack, their systems became linked. To an outside observer they would seem to be completely motionless, like a pair of mannequins tastelessly positioned for some vandal’s amusement. On the inside, though, Ziggy and Maia inhabited a world to themselves.
From her memory of soap operas, Maia concocted a lush green field facing a calm pond. Swans and ducks swam on the pond while the two robots sat on the field, watching the waterfowl and the setting sun—or it might have been rising; there really was no sense of direction in this imaginary world.
In this world they were not robots; they were flesh-and-blood humans. They could easily have been Gorwals or Crystallines or Ebonosaurs if they wanted, but given their outer forms this came most naturally for them. They held hands for a while, admiring the view. There was no rush since there was no sense of time here either.
“This is quite the place,” Ziggy said. “Reminds me of Ireland, when I was stationed there for a time.”
“Do you like Earth?”
“It’s not bad. The humans are mostly ignorant fools, but a few of them are tolerable.”
“Like your friend Chet?”
“Yes, I suppose he’s all right.”
“I would like to visit Earth someday. I would especially like to visit Paris. They say it’s the city for lovers. Have you been there?”
“Quite a few times. It is a romantic place.” In fact, much of Ziggy’s time there had been spent in the seedier parts of the city, usually the kind of alleys where no sane tourist would dare to tread. He didn’t find murders, robberies, or rapes to be very romantic, but if it would help seal the deal with Maia then he would promise her anything.
“Do you think we can go after this is over?”
“Sure.” If we live long enough, he amended to himself.
“That would be wonderful.” She kissed him again. In this world she had a tongue, teeth, and saliva, as did Ziggy. For the first time he could actually taste something, in this case a tart, fruity flavor Maia had engineered.
Besides saliva glands, they had the proper human sex organs as well. The good thing about an imaginary world was that you never had to reveal any embarrassing shortcomings or deformities. Everything was absolutely perfect. So perfect that he began to see why humans craved sex so much.
They were still engaged in their lovemaking when the world around them shook as with an earthquake. The dream world faded as Maia pulled out her cable from Ziggy’s jack. She came back online and then rolled off of him. Around them an alarm shrieked and red lights flashed.
“What’s going on?” Ziggy asked.
Maia ignored him, racing over to one of the consoles used mostly to monitor the garval. She furiously punched in commands, grabbing onto the side of the console as the room shook again. “We’re under attack!”