by EHY
"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Mr. Haroshi." Dianne Paris Wilkins worked very hard to keep her voice from breaking as she spoke. She desperately hoped the young Asian man behind the solid oak desk couldn't tell just how close she was to breaking out in tears.
"Please, Mrs. Wilkins," Haroshi said, "after what I've been told about you I could hardly refuse to see you. If only to put an end to my curiosity. But I must warn you I have an important meeting very shortly, so I cannot spare a lot of time for you. What exactly is it you wanted to see me about?"
Dianne took a deep breath. She was not a particularly attractive woman. Short and dumpy actually described her better, although she did the best she could with her hair, makeup, and clothing. She had paid particular attention to her appearance today, although there wasn't very much to be done with her drab brown hair just beginning to go gray with age, her overlarge nose, her generally dismal features. But everything depended on Haroshi's reaction to what she was going to ask. "I want to offer you a piece of information, and I want to make a request. All I ask in exchange for my information..." she paused for a moment, realizing just in time that her voice was about to break. This was too important. Was she asking too little? Or offering too little? Or talking to the wrong person? There were so many ways she could be going wrong... No, that was the wrong way to think. She had to think positive. She took another breath and finished: "All I ask is that you promise to take my request seriously."
"Of course I will take it seriously, Mrs. Wilkins, but I cannot agree to grant it until I know what it is."
"I understand," Dianne said, unsurprised. She forced herself to continue. "I know there are many good reasons you might refuse my request. I think you'll find it reasonable to grant it once you know what it is, so long as you don't reject it outright." That was her worst fear - well, one of them - that he would laugh at her and send her away. She didn't know what she would do if he did that. "Well, then. You may know that my ex-husband, Jason Wilkins, is a senior Vice-President with Expressive Technologies. Specifically in their personal robotics division."
"I had wondered if he was a relation of yours," Haroshi said. Actually he had known perfectly well who Dianne was, and who her husband was - one of the reasons he had agreed to see her. "Expressive Technologies is one of our major competitors. Your former husband, I would say, is more or less my opposite number."
"Yes, he is," Dianne agreed. "And as his wife, I heard quite a lot about your industry - despite having, until recently, a career of my own having nothing to do with robotics. I- I think you might be interested in knowing some of what I hear."
Haroshi stared hard at her, but did not say a word. The information he'd received on the woman in front of him indicated that Jason Wilkins had married her for her money, rather than for love. Apparently with his own stellar career at Expressive, his interest in his wife's money had decreased, for they'd finalized a divorce just weeks ago.
She had come here for a reason, he assumed. If she wanted to sell him his competitors' secrets, she would make an offer. If she wanted something else, he certainly wasn't going to let her know how interested he was in those secrets.
But Dianne didn't bother making an offer. She plowed right into her revelation and her request. "The information I have for you is that Expressive knows all about your transference technology. They know you plan to record the personalities of actual people and incorporate those personalities into a new line of androids. So do I. My request is that I would very much like to be one of those people." She hardly took a breath until she'd gotten it all out.
Without taking his eyes from her, Haroshi pressed a button on his desk. "Melinda, reschedule my two o'clock meeting. If anyone calls, I'm not here. I'll want to see Jacobsen this afternoon. And I think I'm going to want an appointment with our legal counsel."
After his secretary acknowledged, he spoke to Dianne again. "I thank you for that information. I think it will be very useful to us." Dianne relaxed just ever so slightly. He hadn't laughed yet. He was taking her seriously. Maybe - just maybe - this was going to work. "May I ask why you gave it to me?"
"Two reasons," Dianne answered. Then hesitated. She didn't want to go into the details of how Jason had ruined her hopes and dreams by seducing her into marrying him, and then ignoring her, giving her no support at all, while using her money to support his career. How very much she wanted to destroy him, if only she knew how. "The first... is really none of your business. Oh, I know you'll find out all about it sooner or later, but I'd rather not talk about it is all. The other... the other is because I want you to turn me into a doll. I mean, an android. You know."
Haroshi idly picked up a pen and began twiddling it in his hands. "Mrs. Wilkins, we can't actually turn you into an android. You'd still be just as you are. All we can do is scan your personality-"
"Yes, I know," Dianne interrupted. "But the personality module still thinks and feels like the person she used to be, doesn't she?" She had to be right. She had to.
"Well, it behaves as if it does. It has all of the knowledge of its former life, except for the private details that our scan isn't deep enough to record, and it tends to speak and behave as if it were the person it was copied from, when it is permitted to. There's really no way to tell what it actually feels like."
"Well, that's good enough for me. If it works, then somewhere - somewhere there will be an android - well, thousands of androids, I guess - who are beautiful, loyal, perfect servants, programmed to always do the right thing, are loved by their masters, don't screw everything up, aren't scared all the time... and who can remember being me. Who even think that they are me. That's what I want, Mr. Haroshi."
Haroshi tapped a pen against his desk. "You do realize that even the transferred models will still be totally subservient to their owners? The personality matrix has only as much control over the android body as the owner allows. We're not in the business of creating free mechanical people, after all. An android incorporating your personality will be just as much a slave as any android you've owned."
"Of course, I understand that," Dianne said. "I've had forty-three years of being a free person, and it hasn't done me any good. I've made a mess of it, and I've been scared and miserable my whole life. I don't think there's anything left for me as a free person. So I want to try being a doll. A love doll, if possible."
"But why?"
"Why?" Dianne asked. Now, finally, she could no longer hold back the tears. "Because all my life, all I've ever wanted is to be loved. I don't want to be snubbed because I'm ugly. I don't want to struggle for dignity. I don't want to be scorned by half the world for having too much money, and respected by the rest just because I have too much money. I don't want to be confused all the time about what I'm supposed to do, and how I'm supposed to act, and who I'm supposed to be. I know it's not a popular attitude for a woman today, but all I want is to make someone happy - and that's what dolls do. People don't. At least... not people like me."
"All right," Haroshi shrugged. He didn't understand it himself - but the woman seemed to know what she wanted. "Here's what I can do. I can have our psychology team interview you. We're not looking for just any personality, you know. We're identifying specific types of personalities we think will sell well in various market niches, and we'll pick the best sample we get for each category. It'll be up to them to decide whether you're the right fit for one of the styles we have planned, and if so, which one. You will not have any say in the matter. Does that satisfy you, Mrs. Wilkins?"
And, looking up through her tears, for the first time since entering the IPM building, Dianne smiled. "That will be fine, Mr. Haroshi. Thank you."
Dianne Paris Wilkins met with IPM's psychologists. They asked her lots of penetrating personal questions. They asked for, and received, her permission to hypnotize her and ask her more questions. She didn't know how many other women, or men for that matter, they spoke to, and she didn't care. In the end, they decided to use her.
She asked Haroshi if she might see what she was going to look like before they scanned her personality. "We don't normally do that," Haroshi admitted, "but in your case I suppose we can make an exception."
He arranged for a bright-eyed young roboticist named Jeanette Carlisle to show Dianne her new body. Everyone who worked here, it seemed to Dianne, was young.
Jeanette led her through a labyrinth of hallways, laboratories, and cubicles, finally arriving at a large storage room full of coffin-sized boxes. She explained, "Most of the unfinished androids stay at the manufacturing plant until they're complete - which means having their personality matrices loaded. Then they'll be packaged and delivered to showrooms direct from there. But we keep a few of each model here at the lab for testing and demonstrations."
Each box had a clear plastic lid, through which one could see the deactivated android inside. They were arranged almost like bookshelves, standing upright so that one could walk down the rows and scan the offerings. The first three boxes Dianne looked at were identical dark-haired men of the stereotypical "tall, dark, and handsome" variety. But Jeanette led her to the third row and off to the right.
She pointed at one of the display boxes. "This is a Lianna. That's the body type your personality matrix will be installed in. I hope that's what you wanted. Back in the lab we called this one 'Dark Temptress' until Marketing decided on a real name for her."
Dianne stared at the body she would become. Lianna was a tall, slender woman with a lovely face. Had she been a real woman, Dianne would have guessed she was in her early twenties. She wore only a skin-tight blue leotard, which showed off her firm bosom, narrow waist, and broad hips. She had a thick dark, almost black braid of hair that curved down her left shoulder and nearly brushed her breast. Her eyes were closed, and her face was composed as if she were dreaming pleasant dreams. Embedded in the skin of her neck, between her collarbones, was a dark plastic square, perfectly aligned with her skin. The feminine body was cradled in a soft foam mold precisely shaped to hold her. In the next case over was a twin to the doll in front of her... and another beyond that...
"Can you activate one of them?" Dianne asked.
"I suppose so," Jeanette agreed. "Of course, it's just a robot now until we load your personality into her."
"I know, but I want to see what she looks like when she moves."
Jeanette worked a pair of catches along the side of the lid of the Lianna's case, and swung the lid open. From a pair of smaller niches next to the doll, she pulled out a black remote control device with many buttons, and two large silver cylinders.
"We store the androids with their batteries removed," Jeanette explained. She pointed the remote at the Lianna, and pressed two buttons. With each press, a seam appeared in the inside of one of the Lianna's thighs, which then popped up as a small panel of fake skin which Jeanette swung open. Inside each thigh was a hollow space just large enough for one of the batteries. Jeanette inserted them expertly, and slapped each thigh panel closed again. As it closed, each panel sealed so perfectly that Dianne couldn't tell there was even a seam.
"Do you want to turn her on yourself?" Jeanette asked, offering Dianne the remote.
Dianne took the device carefully. It was of a different design than the remotes for any of the androids she had owned, but not too different. There was a large red "Off" button, and next to it a series of four green buttons labeled, "Robot," "Passive," "Natural," and "Free." A green outline surrounded all four buttons, labeled "On."
"The four On buttons also control its mode," the roboticist explained. "The modes will be explained to you later. For now just press the button marked `Robot.'"
Dianne pointed the remote at Lianna's face, and pressed the button.
A sharp click issued from somewhere inside the android's torso, and a red light flashed inside the dark square in its neck. Nothing else happened for a few seconds, and then the square began to glow red. Lianna took a breath and opened her eyes.
"Hello," she said, in a soft voice with just the slightest hint of a southern accent. "My name is Lianna. How may I serve you?"
"Step out of the box," Dianne ordered, backing up to make room.
The android did as she was told, carefully placing her bare feet on the carpeted floor of the storeroom. She did not turn to face either Dianne or Jeanette, but simply stared forward at another row of female androids. Only the rhythmic motion of her respiration (for cooling her internal systems) and occasional blinking of her eyes showed that she was activated.
Dianne reached out and touched the android's arm. It was firm and smooth, unlike her own chubby limbs. She moved her hand up to caress Lianna's cheek - gently, half-afraid she would accidentally damage the android, or do something else that would make them decide not to proceed with her. But nothing bad happened. Lianna did not even react to Dianne's touch.
"Look at me," she ordered. Lianna turned to face the older woman. Now that the android's dark brown eyes were open and her body no longer encased in padding, Dianne could see why her designers had called her "Dark Temptress." Jason would have liked her, she thought.
"What is your function?" she asked.
"I am an entertainment android, Miss," Lianna said. "My function is to please. I am programmed with a full array of adult-oriented recreational skills, including games, low-impact sports, dancing, massage, and personal attention, as well as standard housekeeping and secretarial tasks."
"Does that mean you're a love doll?" Dianne asked uncertainly.
"Yes, Miss, I can serve that function."
Jeanette added, "The PR folks think we'd get in trouble with the government if we were too explicit about the fact that half our androids get most of their use as sex toys. That's why we use euphemisms like 'intimate companion' and 'personal attention.' They don't fool anyone who doesn't want to be fooled. But we do expect Lianna to be purchased primarily by men aged 20 to 55, for sexual purposes. I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Wilkins."
Dianne smiled. "That's fine," she said. "Just what I wanted."
Jeanette gave her an odd look. "You sure?"
"I'm completely sure," Dianne said.
Jeanette hmmphed. "Well, better you than me. The only reason I help design them is because it pays so well. I'd hate to become one." She thought about it again for a moment. "But I guess my boyfriend might like it if I became this one."
Dianne nodded dreamily, thinking about the words, "purchased by men... for sexual purposes." In that lovely young-looking body, she could make any man happy just by being there. And she'd never do anything to make her man unhappy. Yes. This was what she wanted.
"I'm finished here," she said softly. "Lianna, get back into your box."
The beautiful android carefully turned her back to the box, and stepped backward into it. "Prepare for shipping," Jeanette ordered, and the android maneuvered her limbs into place so they were once again perfectly cradled by the padded mold. She closed her eyes, and said, "I am prepared for shipping. I will shut down in two seconds." Precisely two seconds later, she exhaled one last time, and the indicator light on her neck went dark. She did not move.
Jeanette opened Lianna's thigh panels again to remove her batteries, and stored them and the remote control in their niche in the box. Then she closed and latched the case, and led Dianne away.
Her next stop was the lab of one of the psychologists she'd met earlier, a man named Frank Feldman. It was he who would perform the actual scan of her personality. He led her to a chair with a sort of helmet attached to the top of it, which he lowered over her head.
"All right, Dianne," he said. "Now, I want you to pay attention to the images on this screen here." He pointed out a large projection screen. "They'll help focus your attention properly, so the scan will work best. It'll take anywhere from an hour or less to two hours or so. It should go fastest if you can just relax completely. Daydream. Let the images guide your thoughts however they will. Just don't fall asleep. Okay?"
"Okay," Dianne said eagerly. "I'm ready." She settled herself in to watch the screen.
A swirl of colors appeared. Slowly they resolved into a series of images, almost like Rorschach blots. Dianne relaxed, letting her thoughts wander. A house... a dog... a pair of breasts... an apple...
Some time later, the swirling images faded. The psychologist walked back over to her and lifted the helmet off her head.
"That's all?" Dianne asked.
Frank nodded. "Nothing to it. You were great - less than an hour for the complete scan. I now have a complete copy of your personality on this crystal." He held up a standard memory crystal, thumb-sized and silver-blue. "We'll check it out over the next few days and let you know if anything went wrong. The process only works perfectly in about four out of five tries. If it didn't work, we'll call you in for a second scan. But otherwise, you're all done."
Dianne walked out of Dr. Feldman's office as if in a dream. She had no more plans. She had nowhere she cared to go. She hadn't changed at all, and yet she somehow felt she was leaving the best part of herself behind, in Dr. Feldman's crystal.
For what it was worth, Dr. Feldman would have agreed with her.
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