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The Non-Standard Man Ch. 01

By: MissPrim



I walked the line of the gallery looking over the various models.

"Hmm, these are attractive, but what about programming?"

"They all come with the standard package," the saleswoman said, her voice abnormally perky. I glanced at her again. She was one of those silicon beauties hidden under thick, dark glasses, with her hair done up in a messy bun, wearing a tight pencil skirt, and cream-colored shell. 

"Not like you."

"Oh, no, miss. I'm specially programmed for this job."

Apparently she was programmed for flattery too. I was too far down the road to be called "miss."

"Well, let's see, then." My voice sounded tired even to my ears. But, then again, this was my third toyshop in as many hours.

"Do you have a preference on body type?" she asked.

"Either very blond or very brunette."

She frowned. I was not being specific. Then she perked up and flashed me a big smile. 

"I think I have just the thing," she said. She stepped over to a tall blond who looked like he spent his days riding the waves at Big Sur. "This is our Bradley model. Brad, darling, say hello to our guest."

Bradley's eyes immediately lit with animation.

"Hey, baby," he said. "Care to chat?"

"No."

"But," said the saleswoman.

"No," I said more firmly.

"Take five, Bradley," she said. He grinned a big, white smile at her. "Sure, baby," he said and switched off.

"Anything else?" I said. 

"Well, there is the Tom series. He is a bit out of your stated budget, but he's so worth it. And he comes with multiple options." She winked at me, and I shuddered. 

She strolled over to black haired model, whose brown eyes reminded me of dark chocolate. 

"Tom, say hello to our guest."

Tom's eyes brightened in a delicious way. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi, Tom. Tell me more about yourself."

He smiled. "Well, I'm an laid back, easing going, fun guy."

"Take five, Tom," I said.

"Sure, sweetheart." He powered down. 

"I'm sorry." I turned to the front entrance.

"Wait!" said the saleswoman. "I can see you want more than the standard man. And I might have something. Now, I'll be honest. He's a trade-in, and he hasn't been reconditioned yet, but the previous owner did invest in some upgrades."

"What kind of upgrades?"

"You'll see. Follow me."

She led me to the back room where there were unclothed models in various states of repair. I got an eyeful of different upgrades. But the one she stopped at wore a dark business suit with a crisp white shirt. His hair was grey at the temples and he honest-to-god looked a little tired. 

"Andrew, say hello to our guest."

Andrew's eyes showed life, but he gave me a wary glance. I stared at him, marveling at his life-like expression. I smiled, and he smiled back, warmth seeping into his eyes.

"You're not easy going, laid back or fun," I said. 

"No, I am not."

"Perfect."

#

"Are you sure you don't want any changes," said the saleswoman. "We could adjust..."

"No, I'll take him just as he is."

"Once he leaves the showroom..."

"Where are the papers," I said. 

In the end I had to sign, on top of the usual, a waiver of guarantee because I did not allow any reconditioning. That was fine was me. 

"I'll get him then."

The saleswoman left me alone in the tiny office, and quickly returned with Andrew who carried a small paper bag. "Sweetheart, you'll go home with Miss Shipley."

"I will?" he said. 

Hmph. This was unusual. 

"That is, if you want to," I said.

Andrew turned his blue eyes on me.

"I have a choice?"

"Now, Andrew," said the saleswoman.

"No," I said. " If there is something in his programming tells him 'no' then he doesn't have to come with me."

"What would I do?"

"Not much," I admitted. "Robots aren't permitted the run of the streets."

"I'm aware." He almost sounded bitter. "It doesn't sound like much of a choice."

"We all don't have many choices, Andrew." Like buying artificial men because there just weren't that many flesh and blood men left. 

"She's already paid, Andrew. Go along with her."

He looked at me again. Something seemed to pass between us, but that was impossible. He was, after all, a machine. 

"Okay. I'll go with you, Miss Shipley."

"Evaline. Call me Evaline."

"Evaline," he repeated in a nearly toneless voice. 

#

In the elevator going up to my apartment, Andrew stood, face forward, holding that paper bag.

"What's in the bag, Andrew?"

He didn't look at me.

"Enhancements." 

I was going to say something, but then my neighbor, Magda, got in. 

"Ooh, and who's this, Evaline?"

"His name is Andrew."

"Just Andrew?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Her tone held a sneer. I never did like her. 

"Andrew, this is my neighbor, Magda Adams."

He continued to stare ahead. 

"What's wrong with him," said Magda. 

"There is nothing 'wrong' with me, Miss Adams. I am functioning at my normal parameters."

I almost smirked then.

"Andrew, would you please be so kind as say hello to Miss Adams."

"Hello, Miss Adams. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Her eyes widened at the unusual, for a robot, response.

I moved closer to her ear. "He has enhancements," I whispered to her. I drew out the last word in the most suggestive way I could.

She looked at both of us askance.

"Non-standard programming is illegal," she said primly.

"Who said anything about non-standard? I just bought him, as is, from the toy store. They are licensed, you know."

"Which one?"

"Pecks. On Fifth."

"Hmph," she said. "I've never been to that one."

"For as many trade-ins as you've done? I'm surprised."

She huffed and the door opened. Magda fled as fast as she could.

"I take it she's not a friend of yours," said Andrew.

I gave him a look wondering at what he just said.

"Come along. My apartment is the second door on the right."

"Yes, Evaline."

I walked in, but didn't turn on the lights. I liked my apartment just like this, dark, with the lights of the city a backdrop against the huge planes of glass that made up my left wall. The moon was full, its light streaming on the back of my long, curved sofa. 

"This, of course, is the living room. Over there," I pointed to a darkened area to the far left, "is the kitchen. I pointed straight ahead to a set of double doors. "Through there is the bedroom."

His gaze darted around. 

"And where do you want me?" he said. 

"Pardon?"

"Where should I stay when you do not...require me."

"To tell you the truth, I hadn't thought about it."

"You've never had someone like me before?"

I shook my head slowly.

"So, why now?"

"My friends told me I was getting sullen, and difficult. They suggested this."

"Were you? Sullen and difficult."

"I suppose. My work is stressful."

"Would you like a glass of wine?"

"How do you know I have any?"

"A woman like you wouldn't."

I pointed to the kitchen. 

Andrew moved there and doors opened and shut as he looked through cabinets. I heard a bottle uncorked, and soon he returned with two glasses of the white I had in the refrigerator. He handed me one, and sat down next to me on the couch.

"Two glasses?"

"Is that wrong? My last...owner always insisted."

"But you don't drink."

"Of course not. She'd drink it."

"Why were you traded in? She seems to have invested quite a bit in you."

"She didn't. She died and none of her family wanted me."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

I took a sip of my wine. "That they didn't want you."

"I'm not. If you don't mind I'd rather not talk about the past."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Me? Nothing." 

He took my glass and set both his and mine on the coffee table. Andrew raised his hand and traced the line of my jaw with the knuckle of his forefinger. 

"What are you doing?"

"Getting to know you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Gently his hand trailed down my neck to my breast. He made lazy circles around it while he stared into my eyes.

"Like that?" he said.

"Yes." Despite the wine, my throat was suddenly dry.

He cupped the underside of my breast firmly, and then moved the flat of his palm over my nipple, which had hardened under my shirt. 

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes."

Slowly he unbuttoned my silk shirt, and pulled each half to the sides, leaving my black lace bra exposed. 

He brought up each hand to my breasts and pressed against them slightly. His eyes closed briefly, as if he was enjoying this, which was, of course, impossible. The robot took each nipple between his forefingers and thumbs, and pinched them hard. 

"Oh."

He reached around and unsnapped my bra. Andrew pulled up the bra so that my breasts were exposed. He lowered his head and sucked in a nipple. I don't know what I expected, but his lips and tongue were soft. So real. Little tingles of pleasure shot to my spine and I felt myself getting wet. 

His hand fingered my other breast. He didn't rush, wasn't looking for anything else other than to pleasure me. I started breathing harder, and as if that were a cue he pulled me down so that my head was in his lap looking up at him. He continued to stare into my eyes and he reached down and pulled up my skirt with both his hands. Expertly, he stuck his fingers under my panty hose, and pulled them down my thighs. Slowly, so very slowly, he fingered my mound, and then pushed his fingers in around my clit. Still, even then, he didn't assault that spot as if he knew it was too tender to touch. Instead, he moved his fingers all around it, and my back arched.

"Sexy," he whispered. 

I was a little beyond words now, especially as he pulled my head up on his shoulder as if I weighed but a feather. A finger pushed into my pussy. He stroked me. 

"Ah."

"Hmm," he said. "Shall I put another in?"

I nodded, lost in pleasure.

Andrew added a second finger, and pushed a little more forcefully. At the same time he head dipped to one of my breasts again and he sucked in the nipple, this time a little harder. 

I whimpered. His fingers moved faster within me and I was climbing higher on these sensations, and my hips moved in time to his fingering. 

"More," I gasped. 

He added a third finger, and while that felt good, it wasn't enough. 

"Fuck me."

He didn't say a thing, but in an instant he turned me over, and shoved me over the arm of my sofa. My arms rested against the arms of it, my ass in the air. I heard the sound of his belt unclipping and a zipper going down. His hands went to my hips, and the tip of his shaft rubbed the entrance of my pussy. Slowly he pushed in and I pushed against him. 

"Eager," he hissed. With that he plunged inside of me, and then withdrew. And as I made noises of my pleasure he fucked me faster and harder until the I felt nothing but the pleasure rising from my core, up my spine and to my brain. My hips bucked and he slammed into me, again and again, until I came completely undone, screaming, oh god, oh god. But as I started to come down, Andrew didn't stop, and the pleasure came more intense this time. It was so good, it almost hurt, and I couldn't breath anymore. Any oxygen I got was from ragged gasps. My next orgasm slammed into me.

"I can't," I gasped. 

His fingers moved around my waist and his thumbs pushed into the small of my back.

"One more, Evaline. One more for me."

He didn't stop fucking me, and my mind spun from his insistent stroking. My body, good god, responded again, splintering me into a thousands pieces. 

"Andrew!" I wailed. 

He pushed harder a few more strokes, and I heard a groan, and felt something spurt inside me. Finally, he stilled, though he laid his head on my back. Then he slid away and pulled me up, wrapping his arms around me. 

I looked into his blue eyes. 

"You came?" I said in wonder. This was NOT part of the programming.

He smiled.

"Yes. Enhancements."

#

If I thought we were done, I was wrong. After a while of him holding me, I made moves to get up.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I need to go the bathroom."

"Oh," he said as if he hadn't considered that. He let go of me, and I went into my bedroom, then my bath. When I done, I got up and flushed, and turned.

"Jesus!" I said startled. Andrew was inside the door staring at me. He was only wearing his white shirt opened, showing his chest. I couldn't help but stare myself. The body of the cyborg was formed ripped and toned, with a sexy V that cut from his hips. His penis and balls were a perfectly proportioned package was a thing of beauty all on its own. I caught myself thinking about what I would do with it. 

"Perhaps, you'd like a shower," he said. 

Without waiting for an answer, he turned on the water. Slowly, seductively, he removed my shirt, bra, shirt and panties as I stood there. 

"Get in, Evaline. It's warmer in the shower." The shower looked good, like just the thing I needed then, so I followed the robot's instructions. 

The water slid over my head and down my body, and my eyes were closed. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when I felt his hands soaping my body.

"Does that feel good," he asked.

"Yes. Tell me something now. When you came, what was that? For what purpose?"

He was silent for a long space of a few seconds.

"It is known that sexual activity with artificial surfaces can be irritating to human skin."

I nodded. My friends told me something like that.

"It is just a liquid to sooth those areas, nothing more."

"A lubricant?" That sounded silly. It would be better to lube before.

"No, not a lubricant, though we can use those if you wish."

If I wish.

"Doesn't bother you either way, does it?"

"How can it?"

Good answer. 

He turned me around and kneeled to wash my hips and legs. His head was almost level with my mound. Working upward, he washed my feet, calves and thighs. When he got to my hips, he moved his hand to my pussy, soaping it, and then using his hands to bring hot water to rinse it. I sighed.

"Feels good?"

"Yes."

But he didn't stop there, his fingers exploring my pussy once again, his eyes looking to my face to watch my expression. Between his finger and the hot water, I was getting hot again. I tilted my head back. 

I felt his hands on my hips, and something against my clit. His tongue was there pushing and probing. 

"Oh, Jesus."

He pulled his head away. "My name is Andrew. Did you forget?"

"Good god, no."

"So you want me to continue?"

"Yes," I gasped.

He set back to his work, his mouth moving against my mound, suckling it.

A little noise escaped my throat and my hips bucked in his face. 

His hands came down, and parted the folds over my clit. 

"Your clitoris is very swollen and red."

"I do believe that is part of the process."

"It's very tender, isn't it?"

"Yes. Don't touch it."

"I won't." Instead, he blew on it, slowly, forcefully, his breath hot from the steam in the shower. He filled his mouth with the water streaming down and blew that as a steady stream over my exposed clit. 

Oh shit. I shivered. 

I didn't know robots breathed.

"You are very responsive," he said. "But you aren't getting excited enough."

"Enough for what?"

"Enough to orgasm."

He stood up suddenly, spun me around, and with his hands, pulled my wrists in back of me. He took them both in one inhumanly strong hand, and with the other pushed down on my back. 

"Bend over, and spread your legs."

"Andrew."

"Spread your legs," he said again. 

My heart pumped in my chest. What was wrong with the crazy robot?

"Stop," I said.

He bent over to my ear, his shaft pushing between my legs.

"If you want, I'll stop. But your heart is pumping hard and your skin is flushed. Your vagina is very, very wet, and not from the water. You want this. You want it just like this. I can give it to you. Let me give it to you, Evaline." 

He was right. I did.

I nodded my head.

"Good. Don't make me explain myself again."

With that he pushed inside me, and I gasped. With one hand he held mine, with his other he grabbed me around the waist, holding me in a position that no human male could hold for long. His hips moved, as he held me in place. I had no control, did not want any control over what was happening. My wrists ached, and he must have felt something. He let one hand go.

"Hold it against the wall," he said. He pulled back and slammed into me. 

"Fuck," I said. 

He picked up the pace, faster and deeper until I felt him pounding into my furthest walls. My head dipped down, and my legs were shaking as my orgasm rolled over me, gathering force against his control.

"Oh," I said.

"Say my name," he demanded.

"Andrew." 

And he pushed harder almost jamming my head into the wall of the shower. He pulled back on my hand, gripped my waist tighter, and stroked and stroked until white heat exploded in my core and my brain. I was nothing but a glowing ball of pleasure.

"Andrew," I screamed. 

I panted as my body came down from my orgasm, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. My legs trembled.

"Oh god, what did you do to me?"

He picked me up and lay me gently on the bed. With a towel he wiped me down, and then tucked my blankets around me. I was exhausted, sexually sated, cozy and warm. I feel asleep quickly as the robot sat on the edge of my bed. 

#

I woke to sunlight streaming through my bedroom windows, which was unusual. I kept my shades drawn. 

The smell of coffee was in the air. 

Coffee?

The events of the previous night seeped into my brain. I sucked in a breath. That was nothing, nothing at all what my friends did with their toys. I wondered about the extent of Andrew's enhancements. 

My bedroom door opened, and Andrew entered carrying a glass of orange juice and coffee. He set them down on my nightstand.

"It's good you are awake. You have just enough to time to get ready for the office. You don't have much for breakfast."

"I don't eat breakfast."

"You will. It's not good for you to work without food."

I sat up, picked up the orange juice and stared at him.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Ignore that comment."

"I checked your schedule on your phone. You have a nine o'clock appointment with a new client. What sort of wardrobe do you wear for such an event?"

"A light suit, perhaps a scarf with it."

He moved over to my closet, and started leafing through my clothes.

"Compared to the fashion magazines, your wardrobe needs an update."

Now it was my turn. "Pardon?"

"Here." He pulled out a gray suit I rarely wore, and a fuchsia colored silk shirt, which I never did. Along with that he took a gray and cream silk scarf, the gray matching my suit.

"I recommend this, though, of course, you can choose something else."

He picked up a pair of fuchsia pumps bought in a moment of idiocy. I had forgotten about them.

"The magazines say that color should be combined with neutrals."

"Andrew. This is not part of the standard programming."

"I know," he said his back still to me while he looked through the closet. He started pulling out some suits and he laid them on the chair by the closet.

"These are too out-of-date. Do you have a tailor to send them to update them, or should they be donated to a charity?"

"Andrew!" I said more sharply. My heart was now beating like a freight train in my chest. Just how non-standard was this robot? 

He turned.

"Is there a problem?"

"You know damn well there is a problem."

He walked back over to the edge of the bed and sat, and looked into my eyes. 

"You are afraid."

"Yes."

He sat for a second as if thinking.

"Would it have been better if I hid what I was to you?"

I sucked in a deep breath.

"Because, I could see right away that the usual one of my kind wouldn't be enough for you."

"How could you know that?"


The Non-Standard Man Ch. 01



"I heard everything you said when you were in the showroom."

Suddenly I couldn't breath at all.

"Cicily wasn't my owner. She was a programmer. She made adjustments as she saw fit."

I took a sip of my orange juice and studied his face, trying to unstick my breathing. It worked. My lungs took oxygen again. 

"That's not quite legal," I said. 

"She had all the proper clearances. Cicily worked for Androdyne."

I gasped, knowing that this robot should have been turned in to the company and wiped. 

"It's okay. Cicily wanted me to stay like I am. She thought it would be wrong for me to lose what I'd become."

"And what did you become?" I asked this even as I got a sick feeling in my gut. 

"Sentient. Just like you."

A self-aware robot. 

Shit.

I should have seen something sooner. His use of "I," wanting me to call him by name, making demands, were all clues that should have shouted at me. If I weren't so caught up in my lust, I would have seen it sooner, and get the damned thing out of my apartment. 

I was so screwed. Sentient robots weren't anything new, just outlawed. For good reason. 

Fuck.

He offered a hand to help me out of bed. As I stood there he dressed me like I was some sort of goddamned doll. The underwear, the hose, the shirt and suit went on in proper order. I just stood there between freaked and pissed. I had no clue what to do.

First. I bought the thing willingly. I even insisted there was no change in program. Second, and god help me, I liked his programming. Every bit of it. 

"Your car is waiting for you at the door," he said as he slipped on the fuchsia pumps. 

"How do you know that?"

"WiFi. I'm connected to the building's security system now."

Double fuck. 

He took the brush from my dressing table and brushed my hair. Then I felt some twisting, and some pins being pushed into my hair. 

"You look very beautiful today," he said. It was a standard line, but coming from Andrew, it felt like a real compliment. "The darker color looks good against your skin." 

"Thank you." I looked in the mirror, and my hair was done up in a bun. 

"Can I ask you something?" he said. 

"What?"

"Can I have access to your credit? You need some food here, and a few more items of clothing. So do I, for that matter."

The doubt must have shone in my eyes.

"I'll be very careful," he said. "I won't overspend, and I'll do all the shopping over the Internet."

"You can spend up to two thousand, but spend less if you can. The password on my computer is blueballs2036."

"Blue balls?"

"It's a personal joke."

He didn't look amused. "You should get going now," he said. "The car is waiting."

I hesitated.

"Trust me, Evaline. I know my existence is in your hands. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize that." He handed me my briefcase.

I nodded and started for the door.

"And Evaline?"

"Yes?" 

"I look forward to seeing you tonight."

I nearly shuddered and I wasn't sure if it was from remembering what he did to me last night, or the fact he could think that far ahead.

I was most definitely screwed.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 02



Most days I spent the ride to the office looking over briefs, making notes into my phone, or making a few brief calls. Not this morning. I spent it sitting with my hands gripping the edge of the leather seats. 

My phone rang and I answered without looking at who it was.

"Evaline, it's Andrew." Fuck. I closed the privacy window between the driver and me. 

"Yes, Andrew."

"What colors do you favor? I gathered from the look on you face that fuchsia was not a favorite."

"What are you doing?"

"Shopping for you. You are a very busy woman. I thought I could help."

"I'll do my own shopping."

"Evaline. Don't be like that." His voice carried the edge of command that he used on me last night. "If you don't like anything I buy, we'll send it back."

We'll send it back. 

"Colors? Or should I just use my discretion?"

"Do you even have discretion?" My voice rose slightly. "Because a discrete—one of you- wouldn't be calling me in my car, where any one of a half dozen authorities could be listening."

Silence.

"My mistake, Evaline. I will note that for future reference."

"We'll talk when I get home," I said firmly. 

"Of course." The line clicked off. 

The phone rang again. 

"What is it now!" I said.

"Evie? Are you okay?"

"Oh, Betty. Yes. No. I'm getting a massive headache."

"Oh, you didn't find a toy?"

"What? No, I did."

"Ooh!" she cooed. "What model did you get? Is he fun?"

"Betty, I'm sorry, I have some briefs I really need to look at before I hit the office. I'll call you later."

"Okay. But you promise I can try him out, right?"

Oh god. I'd forgotten my half-assed promise to my best friend.

"Gotta go." I ended that call, my heart racing in my chest. What would Andrew think about being passed around as my friends expected? And why the fuck did I care?

Because I didn't want to go to jail, that's why.

I speed-dialed one particular number, one I rarely used, but when I did, it was very necessary.

"I need information on a programmer by the name of Cicily, who worked at or with Androdyne. Yes. ASAP. Thanks."

I dialed my assistant. I could just imagine her feet flying off her desk at the sound of my voice. 

"Caroline! I need all case law on non-standard programming in robots."

In the background, computer keys clacked. "Yes, Ms. Shipley. Is this a new client? Should I open a billing file?"

"Not yet. Just get the case law and put it on my desk."

"Oh." On my desk meant it was for my eyes only, and she got a hint of some serious shit going down. This was, of course, why I paid her twice the going rate for any executive assistant, and paid for her twice-a year-vacations, to keep her mouth shut.

"Right away, Ms. Shipley."

"I'll be there in five."

"Yes, Ms. Shipley."

"And I have Carruthers coming in for a nine o'clock."

She tsked. "Have you been looking at your schedule again? You shouldn't. You know it gives you headaches. Everything is set up in your office, even the coffee service."

"Thank you."

"And your husband called."

Fuck.

"Send him the usual check."

"He says he wants to talk to you."

Fuck me.

"Schedule him in any free space."

"He says he wants to go to dinner." 

"Tell him I've got plans."

"Do you?"

Besides trying to figure out to do with an illegal robot? One that just thinking about, made me wet between my legs?

"No. And Mr. Shipley doesn't need to know that."

"Yes, Ms. Shipley. I'll see what I can do."

The driver rolled the car up to the entrance of my building. I took a deep breath, pulled on my brief case, and walked into the largest law firm in Washington, one that had my name on it. 

#

"Evaline."

My mind had wandered back to that delicious shower last night.

"Sorry. What was the question?"

"Do you think the other side has a case? Can they win in court?"

"You know what, Liz? That's why you hired us. You shouldn't worry about anything. That's my job. And I'm not worried."

"But my cousin, she's at Harvard, says that..."

"With all due respect to your cousin, I graduated Harvard. Cumma Sum Laude. And you shouldn't discuss your case with anyone outside this office."

"Yes, of course, Evaline. It's just that this suit could wipe out my company."

"Product liability is the bane of the capitalist's existence, that and taxes. You let me worry about the lawsuit. You just go run your company." I stood when she did and escorted her out of my office. 

Shit. My client was antsy, and with good reason. Her company was liable for the accident that caused a man to loose one of his legs. And now-a-days damage to any man ran an eight-digit lawsuit. It was a good thing he didn't lose his penis. That would be indefensible.

"Caroline," I said through my headset, "Have the pre-trial and discovery motions gone out on the Carruther's case?"

"Yes, Ms. Shipley. They should keep them swimming in paper work for at least three months, if not longer."

"Good," I said, taking off my fuchsia heels. Damn, they hurt. 

"Oh, and your husband is here."

Just what I need. I put my heels on again. "Send him in."

Roger, that bastard, breezed in and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Wow. Aren't you stunning today? Got a new stylist?"

I went back to my desk and sat at my chair. Roger, of course, went to my bar and poured a drink. Yeah, ten in the fucking morning.

"What is it this time, Roger? Over promised on some present to one of your conquests? That's why you have a budget, Roger. Live within it."

"Baby, don't be like that." He moved to the back of my chair and slipped his arms around my neck, kissing me behind my ears.

"You know I only ever want you."

"Cut the crap, Roger. What do you want?"

He rained kisses down the back of my neck. At one time, that would have made me incredibly hot.

"It's that time of the year again, darling."

Oh, double fuck.

"Let's just say we did."

"It doesn't work like that, darling, and you know it. The government demands proof, and you'll have to give it."

One of the stupidest laws on the books was the "Defense of Marriage Act." Not the weak one that was written decades ago, but the one put in place ten years ago after the plague. Women, looking to keep what they had against those that lost their husbands, demanded the law, one that made divorce illegal and true separations impossible. 

Over the years, as the birthrate among married people plummeted, provisions were tightened so that once a year, childless married couples had to provide proof of conjugal relations to the government. Failure to do so could result in fines and or a prison term. Being a lawyer, I couldn't afford that kind of trouble. And Roger knew it too.

"I'll come by your condo tonight," he said.

"No! Not tonight!" I still had Andrew to deal with and I couldn't do that with Roger there.

"Tomorrow then," he sniffed. "I can't wait. I've a reservation at Saint Bart's in a couple days."

"Thanks for the notice."

He turned my chair around and stared in my eyes.

"We used to have something special once, Evie. What happened?"

Wrong question. "What happened? Finding your dick inside my former best friend is what happened. Now get out of my office."

He sighed and straightened up. "Tomorrow night then, darling."

Yep. I was really, really screwed.

I entered my apartment and the lights were off. 

"Andrew?" I said. 

"Please sit at the table." I heard Andrew's voice through the sound system, which was creepy. 

"Where are you?"

"Please sit at the table."

I walked up the short hall and turned left into the living room, heading to the kitchen, the only place where I had a table for eating. And stopped short. In front of the picture window, a table was set, for two, complete with candles and flowers.

"Andrew?"

Andrew came out of the kitchen, holding a plate of food.

"Evaline. It is good to see you. Dinner is ready. Sit, please."

As I did so, Andrew put a shrimp cocktail in front of me. It was quite fancy, with mango chutney in the center. The shrimp was arranged around it, like it was some sort of flower set on a bed of lettuce.

"You didn't have to go through this trouble," I said.

"It is no trouble, for me."

"So, you know how to cook."

"It is an enhancement."

"Yes, enhancement. Listen, Andrew, no one must know you can do these things."

"I'm aware, Evaline. Eat please." By now he was pouring a white wine in my glass. Then he stood behind me, and massaged my shoulders lightly.

"Andrew, please, I'm not used to this kind of attention."

"That is a shame. You should be."

"Why don't you sit and talk to me."

"If you wish." Andrew took his place at the other end of the table. 

"What did you do today?"

"Not much to tell."

"Indulge me."

"I bought food on the internet. It was delivered today. I spent on that a total of three hundred fifty-eight dollars and eighty-nine cents, which is more than your records show you spend per week, but your kitchen was poorly stocked. Additionally, I ordered twenty-five bottles of wine, whites and reds, and those will arrive tomorrow. On this I spent five hundred thirty-seven dollars and fifty-seven cents, but since it was a large order, the retailer gave me ten percent discount. Again, the only reason I spent this much was that your wine stores were poorly stocked and what you have is low quality. 

I also found the address of a tailor on the Internet that could update your suits. I sent those out, all but the navy blue one, which wasn't worth the effort. I sent that, along with your outdated shirts and slacks to a charity store a few blocks from here. They were more than happy to pick them up at this address. Because I could save money on clothing by reconditioning your suits I spent one thousand dollars on clothing to replenish your shirts and slacks, and a few silk scarves that will go nicely with your suits. I hope you will be pleased with the additions."

"Really?" My mouth gapped open, my mind agog at the complexity with which this robot thought. He wasn't just sentient. The robot was a fucking genius. 

"Yes. And one hundred dollars and fifty-six dollars and eighty-four cents I spent on a few items of clothing for me, and various and sundry items. Then I-"

"Wait, you spent the entire two thousand?"

"No, I did not. Forty-six cents is left unspent. You did say not to spend the entire amount. After that, I cleaned and re-arranged the kitchen shelves for efficiency."

"You did all that."

"I also repaired the robot vacuum, though I fail to understand how its gears were stuffed with little pieces of paper."

I looked down. I hated the thing, the way it zipped around the house, whining and getting underfoot, so one night I shredded enough paper on the floor to jam it up.

"Very good, Andrew."

"Then I prepared dinner." He cocked his head. "And how was your day?" 

#

Dinner was delicious, much better than what I could get at one of the high priced restaurants my friends favored. 

"Andrew," I groaned, after I finished the most luscious chocolate brownie cake I ever ate, "You can't keep feeding me like this. I'll get fat."

"Don't worry, Evaline. I will keep track of your calorie intake. I just thought this first night should be something special." 

"It was. Thank you."

"Good. Now take off your clothes, so we can get started."

"What?"

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes. Evaline, I told you not to make me explain myself."

"I'm tired, Andrew." I stood and walked behind my couch to get to my bedroom. But I didn't make it there. Andrew grabbed my arm and twisted it in back of me. I froze, well aware that if he wanted to, he could rip my arm out of my socket.

"If you want to do this with your clothes on, than that's fine too," he said, his voice low. He pushed my shoulders down to the top of the couch.

"Andrew, please."

I felt my skirt pushed up over my hips and then a solid whap on my backside.

"What?"

"Keep quiet. You'll take your punishment without a sound, understand me?"

"Stop!"

"Bad Evaline. You do need to be taught a lesson."

He jerked my panty hose down and off my legs. I heard a ripping sound. In the living room mirror before me, I saw Andrew had one end of the hose in his mouth, and the other in his hand. Quickly, he tied my hands behind my back. Then the other half of the hose he stuffed in my mouth. Bent over, helpless and dominated, I never felt wetter or hornier.

And he knew it. 

Whap! Another blow landed on my ass, then another. I quickly realized that he never hit harder than to make my cheeks sting. He could have done anything, but he didn't hurt me, not really. He only gave me what I secretly wanted. 

Tears came to my eyes, as my ass grew hot under his hand. My arousal soared, my pussy dripping. I needed more and I wiggled my ass. 

"So you want to be fucked, Evaline?"

I nodded my head.

"Have you learned your lesson? Will you behave from now on?"

I nodded my head again. 

"I'm not sure," he said. "You've been terribly difficult, despite all I've done for you." With that he lifted me into his arms and took me to my bedroom. He tossed me to the bed, moved away from it, returning just seconds later. He blindfolded me with several of my scarves. He bounded my ankles with several more. 

"Don't move until I return."

I heard my door shut. The room was dark, my eyes covered, my mouth gagged. I heard only the sound of my breathing. The need to cum burned through me. Making me lay there, unable to move, was unbearable. Unbearably hot. Incredibly sexy. 

Heat spread through my core, the fire of frustrated release. The more I thought about my stinging cheeks, the more aroused I was. I wanted to move, to do anything to bring on an orgasm, but there was nothing I could do. 

It seemed forever before I heard the door open again. 

His footsteps padded on the floor toward the bed, and my heart started to pound in my chest.

"Have you learned your lesson, Evaline? Do as I say, and you'll get pleasure. Refuse, and you'll get punishment. Do you understand? 

I nodded my head, and whimpered.

He turned me on my stomach, so I wasn't on my hands. Andrew released my ankles and pushed my knees up under me. Without a word, I felt something liquid spread at my ass, and something pushed up there. His finger.

I wriggled. I'd never done this. It stung.

"Relax, Evaline. You'll like this." He worked his finger in and out of my ass, and then, god help me, added another one. With more lube, he added a third and I became incapable of thought as he explored my butt. 

"You're ready," he said. 

With a swift plunge he entered me. I cried out, though it was muffled through my gag. 

He stopped. "Push back against me. Don't resist. Take it in." 

I did my best to relax, and he moved gently inside me, back and forth. Soon, the most incredible feelings flooded me. He bent over my back, and with one hand, played with my clit. I started moving back and forth, crazy with a need to come, but I was too aroused. I'd hit a plateau on my excitement and couldn't get there. 

"Fuck me, fuck me," I begged with mind and my hips. 

His fingers dove into my pussy. My ass and my snatch was filled, my whole being centered on the lower half of my body. He pushed harder into my ass, and started pounding me, even as his fingers fucked me. No human man could keep up this pace or these positions. I burst apart, every nerve ending exploding, and I screamed through my gag. 

Andrew held himself inside me as my breathing evened out. He pulled out, and gently removed the bindings on my wrist, and then my eyes, and lastly the gag on my mouth. He looked at me so tenderly I thought there was something there that could not possibly exist. 

He brushed my hair from my face.

"I know you are tired, so you can sleep now. Sleep now, my Evaline. You have a busy day tomorrow."

He held me until I did.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 03



For the second night in a row, I slept the sleep of the dead. For the second morning in a row, I woke to the aroma of coffee, and another I hadn't for a very long time.

Bacon.

"Good morning, Evaline."

Andrew held a bed breakfast tray and walked to the side of the bed. He stood there until I pushed up to sit in the bed. He settled the tray over my legs, and then rearranged my pillows behind me.

"Can you do something for me?" I said.

"If possible."

If possible.

"Can you sit? It's be easier to talk to you if our eyes were level to each other."

"Certainly, Evaline." He pushed the upholstered chair from the other side of the room closer to the bed, and sat.

"That's better."

"Eat up, Evaline. You only have an hour to get to the office."

I scanned my plate. Slices of two different colors of melon, scrambled eggs, and two strips of bacon were artistically arranged there. 

"No toast?"

"I told you, Evaline, that I'd watch your calorie count. Toast contains empty calories. It does not return enough nutritional content for the calories ingested." 

I sighed. "Andrew, this is very nice, but I'm a grown woman. I don't need a babysitter, a robotic one at that."

"Have I offended you, Evaline? Did I fail to anticipate your needs?"

"No, but-"

"Then I do not understand the problem."

"It is a problem. Humans become lazy and selfish when they get everything they desire. 

Andrew cocked his head.

"You are not lazy, and from what I can see, you deserve to be selfish."

"That's very nice, but-"

"No buts, Evaline. From your schedule I see that you work very hard. Considering your financial assets, this apartment and the state of your wardrobe, you haven't rewarded yourself enough for your accomplishments."

"Wait, my financial assets?"

"I took the liberty to review them last night while you were asleep, and noted areas for improvement. Overall, they are impressive."

I sucked in a deep breath.

"Andrew, that's confidential information."

"Yes?" he said in a " what is the problem" tone of voice.

The fucking robot had a tone.

"It's none of your business!"

"Everything about you is my business, Evaline. I cannot take care of you properly otherwise." 

He spoke as if he was repeating gospel, chapter and verse. I turned this over in my mind as I nibbled on a perfectly sliced and trimmed piece of melon. Suddenly an electric thought ran through my brain.

I cannot take care of you properly otherwise.

"Andrew, are you telling me you are programmed to take care of me? Not just the normal programming to please me, but your code is written in such a way you must take care of me?"

He smiled. "I appreciate how intelligent you are."

A smile. A behavioral reward. Programmed. 

Shit. He was every woman's dream. 

And he was totally, fucking illegal. 

Even this early in the morning, the irony hit me. 

#

Showered, dressed, and properly groomed, I was about to leave the apartment when I remembered Roger. Andrew handed me my briefcase when I forced myself to tell him. 

"Andrew, my husband is coming over this evening."

"Husband?" He gave me a wary glance.

"Yes. We lead separate lives, but we have to follow the law."

"You refer to certain provisions of the 'Defense of Marriage Act." His voice flattened out, speaking as a normal robot.

"Yes, Andrew."

"Shall I prepare dinner for two then?" he said in clipped tones. Did I hear this? Did he sound pissy?

"I'd appreciate it. Otherwise, I could have something delivered." Right then, my face flushed at my foolishness at caring how a robot felt, as if he could do such a thing.

"There is no need," he said. "Though I now understand certain expenditures. A shame. I saw them as areas of improvement."

"Believe me, Andrew, I would if I could." Without thinking, I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. I pulled back and we caught each other's eyes. His eyes widened, as if surprised. He blinked. 

"Have a good day, Evaline." 

"Thank you, Andrew. You too."

"Ah, Evaline," he said as I put my hand on the door handle, "I did not expect a guest."

A guest.

"I will need a little more money to properly prepare for the evening."

"Spend what you need, Andrew."

"Thank you, Evaline."

#

On my desk were the two things for which I asked. One was the case law I requested from my assistant. The second was the report from the private investigator.

"Ms. Shipley, the partner's meeting starts in fifteen minutes," said Caroline through my headset.

"Thank you, Caroline." I put the reports in my brief case. 

"And Evaline, you are looking particularly sharp today. Did you hire a stylist?"

Andrew dressed me a brand new black knit suit with a cream colored edging around the neck, and the front of the jacket. Apparently, he'd gone through my jewelry, as he produced wide gold necklace and matching bracelet I'd forgotten. Black sling back shoes completed the outfit. 

How do I explain a robot that reorganized my wardrobe? "No. I cleaned out my closets is all."

"Hmm," said Caroline as if she didn't believe me.

#

In the conference room were the partners of Shipley, Shou and Connors. Amanda Connors, the founding partner, was mostly retired now. Tamara Shou sat at the right of the head of the table. She was our financial wizard, and in charge of corporate accounts. Another dozen women and two men sat at the table. 

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," I said breezing in, taking my seat quickly. "Let's start with old business. Let's review the active cases."

This meeting was not unusual. In fact, it bored me. I drifted into a daydream, thinking about my evening with Andrew last night. 

He was programmed to take care of me. He had no choice in delivering exactly what I needed, when I needed it. Oh, but it was delicious how he did it. I loved how he tied me up and left me squirming in my arousal. Even now the thought of last night's activities gushed moisture to my panties. 

"Evaline," said Tamara sharply, bringing me back to earth. She sounded annoyed. "The Carruthers case?"

"Oh, sorry. It should bill out at around two million dollars baring settlement. But the client doesn't want to settle. I met with the client yesterday, and I rolled out the first of the pre-trial motions. It will be two years tops before it reaches court."

"Well, old business is complete," said Tamara. "Any new business?"

Silence. 

"Folks, generating business is your first order of business," she said. "Go through your contacts lists and call your clients."

Grumbles moved around the table. 

"What?" I said. "It isn't as if you are too busy to get this done. In fact, I want call sheets turned in this evening showing at least twenty calls where you've spoken to the client. And don't have your assistants, paralegals or interns make the calls. You do."

The meeting broke up with the junior partners hating me, again. But it'd teach them not to ignore grooming new clients. 

"You going to make the calls too?" said Tamara.

"Of course. I don't make the partners do work I don't do."

"Let me see YOUR call sheet then."

I chuckled. "Right."

"Evaline," she said with concern. "Is something going on? You were distracted today, and that's not you. And you've spiffed up your wardrobe. Is there a new man in your life?"

I shook my head. "No, Tamara. I'm married and I don't stray. Don't worry. I won't damage our firm with scandal."

She had a doubtful look on her face. 

I walked away, my lies a silent witness to my perfidy. I wouldn't risk my firm on a social error, but apparently I was more than willing to risk it on illegal activity. With a robot. 

I was so fucked. 

#

I left work early to get home at seven because of my "date" with Roger. I even announced what I was doing to certain gossipy members of the firm. I don't know why I did that, and that bothered me. Maybe it was my way of trying to distance myself from my robot, my utterly adorable, fuckable robot. The one I had to get rid of. 

When I got home, Andrew met me at the door. 

"I have a bath ready for you," he said. 

"A bath? How did you figure out when I'd get home?"

"I accessed the GPS on your town car. I want to make sure things go smoothly tonight."

"Why?"

"These sorts of things can be accomplished efficiently. That way there is no need to repeat them in the near future."

"What's for dinner? I don't smell those delicious aromas that come from your kitchen."

"Steak Au Poivre with a cognac cream sauce, baked potato with chives and sour cream and garlic green beans."

"Sounds awesome."

"Nothing special," he said flatly. "This meal is easy to prepare and cooks quickly. Besides, I had to choose something from a local restaurant in case your husband asks where you got it. This is from the menu at Rolfo's. I have an Australian Shiraz decanted to go with the meal. Reviews pair it favorably with this menu."

I gazed into his blue eyes. He was so wonderful, so perfect. 

He cocked his head at me. "Evaline, your bath?" 

"And what am I wearing tonight?" I said.

"There was a simple cocktail dress at the back of your closet," he said. "Nothing special. But it will do."

Nothing special. 

I walked into the bedroom, and Andrew followed. "Andrew, I get the distinct impression that you are not happy."

He walked to the closet, his back to me when he answered.

"Don't be silly, Evaline. It doesn't matter to me who you sleep with." There it was again, that pissy tone. 

"Andrew, look at me."

He turned slowly. The look on his face appeared guarded.

"A robot can't have emotions," I said. 

"Yes, Cicily told me that was impossible."

"So what I'm hearing in your voice?"

"What do you hear?"

"Annoyance."

"Not possible. You've assigned human value equivalents to my speech patterns. I will moderate the patterns. Now, Evaline, your bath?"

#

Roger showed up at the door, sloppy drunk, as usual. 

"Great, Roger," I said. "Are you in shape for tonight?"

"Don't worry about a thing, Evie."

"Well, dinner should sober you up."

"Lead the way, darling."

Just as Roger crossed the entrance to the kitchen on his way to the table, Andrew swung open the door with a tray balanced in one hand. Roger jumped.

"Chrissakes, Evaline," he said looking at Andrew. "What the hell is that?"

Andrew, I noticed had changed into a butler's outfit. A fucking butler's outfit.

"Umm, help. You've seen the ads."

"Shall I serve," said Andrew tonelessly.

"Yes, Andrew."

"Andrew?" said Roger looking the robot up and down. "Isn't he a bit fancy for help?"

Andrew kept his gaze impassive.

"Stop staring, Roger and sit," I said. "Everyone has robots nowadays."

Roger sat, and Andrew placed a salad before each of us.

"Andrew," I said. "Please, bring the wine."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Shipley. You have no wine," Andrew said in his flat robot voice. He disappeared into the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Roger," I said as I stood. I entered the kitchen swiftly. It was dark, except for the glow of the burners of the gas stove. Of course, he didn't need bright light to see. I switched it on. 

"Andrew!" I hissed in a whisper. "What is wrong with you?"

He was at the stove, laying the steaks into a frying pan. 

"Nothing is wrong, Evaline," said Andrew in a low voice. "Considering the state of inebriation of your husband, wine is not required."

"Well, I require some wine, if I'm to get through this thing." I whispered. 

He turned to look at me, and I swear the look in his eyes softened.

"This is a chore for you? Something from which you do not derive pleasure?"

"I have not derived pleasure from fucking my husband in many years."

He turned back to the steaks sizzling in the frying pan. "I am sorry. I did not know." He reached to the overhead cabinet to the right of the stove and handed me a decanter. 

"Here is the wine, Evaline. Do not drink too much. We are watching your calorie intake."

#

"Sorry," I said, as I returned to the table. "Programming glitch." 

"Were you talking with that robot?"

"What? No. Just giving it instructions."

"He looks too buff for a housebot," said Roger.

"How would you know?" I said pouring him and me a glass of wine. "Don't tell me you play with toybots?" 

He looked at his salad, moving his fork through it.

"Of course not."

Just then Andrew arrived with the dinner. He pushed the salads to the side, and put the plates down. He also delivered a cup of coffee to Roger. I shot Andrew a warning look. He ignored it. 

"Looks, delicious, Evaline," said Roger. "Where's this from?"

"Rolfo's." 

He cut a piece of the steak and tasted it. "They must have a new chef. I don't remember the Steak Au Poivre tasting this good."

"Is there anything else you require, Ms. Shipley?"

Now we were back to Ms. Shipley. 

"No, Andrew."

"Very good, ma'am."

Andrew turned stiffly and retired to the kitchen. 

"So," said Roger. "How's business?" 

"Good," I said. 

We lapsed into silence as we ate. Long ago we lost anything relevant to say to one another. When we were done, Andrew brought out thin slices of the brownie cake from the other night garnished with raspberry sauce. Roger's slice I noticed was thicker than mine. Calorie control I suppose. 

"Delicious," said Roger. 

"It's something I picked up from a bakery."

"Which one?"

"Don't remember." 

Finally the food disappeared and Andrew cleared the plates. The silence between us spun over the empty table like a giant black hole. 

"Well then," said Roger. "let's get this done."

#

"Sorry," said Roger. He flopped over on his back on my bed, sweaty and unfulfilled. 

"It happens to everyone," I said. A bit frustrated from his unproductive groping, I couldn't keep annoyance out of my voice.

"Yeah. Just I didn't need to have it happen tonight."

"Well, maybe when you get back from Saint Barts."

"Yeah. We'll have to."

Have to. What a wonderful sentiment. 

I got up from the bed. "I need some water. Want some?" 

"No."

I walked into the kitchen and switched on the light. Andrew stood there, motionless. His head swiveled to me. 

"You've not been satisfied," he said.

"To put it mildly."

"He did not perform?" 

"No, he did not. But what's it to you?"

"We've had this discussion. Everything about you concerns me, Evaline. And it might not be such a bad thing for you to have a child."

"A child? Now look here."

"Not that you'd get one with him," continued Andrew.

I got a glass. Andrew took it from my hand. "What do you want?"

"Water."

He filled the glass from the refrigerator with water and ice and handed it to me. 

"What do you mean, I wouldn't get one with him?"

"His sexual orientation makes it difficult for him to copulate with a woman."

I put my glass down on the counter.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I think the proper vernacular is 'gay.' Roger favors sex with men."

"How the hell do you know that!"

"When Roger looked at me, his heart rate went up and there was a heat signature for blood flow to his pelvic region." 

I put my head in my hands. Everything made so much fucking sense now. His relentless conquests of women, our relationship fail, why he was so unhappy. In a world where only twenty percent of the population was male every one of them was needed for procreation. Homosexual sex was more of an aberration now than any other time in history.

"Poor Roger," I said.

"Did you miss the part where he lied to you about what he was?" said Andrew.

"How do I expect you to understand? A secret like that could ruin him, ruin me."

"Why you?"

"Because I married him."

"I do not understand humans. You make things unbelievably difficult for yourselves."

"That is true."

"And yet, you still need to do this thing, fornicate with your husband for the sake of the law."

"Yes."

"Well then, let's get this done." He took my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom.

"Andrew, what do you think you are doing?"

"I told you not to make me explain myself, Evaline. You know what happens when you do."

#

Roger dressed before we entered. 

"Get on the bed, Evaline," said Andrew.

"What's going on, Evaline?" said Roger.

"I'm not sure. But I think you and I are going to fuck." I climbed onto the bed. 

Andrew took a pillow and put it at the edge of the bed. He pulled my legs so I slid down to the edge and he lifted my hips to rest on the pillow. Andrew bent my knees so my feet rested on the edge of the bed. 

"Can you hold onto the sheets, or do I need to tie you down?" Andrew asked.

"What the fuck? Evaline?"

"I'm fine, Andrew" I said though my heart raced at the thought of restraints.

"Good." He turned to Roger. 

"We realize this is not your fault. Evaline was unaware of your sexual orientation. That is because you hid it from her. That was bad, and dangerous, for both of you. Now, there will be no more lies." 

"What the hell!" Roger said with alarm.

Andrew reached for his belt, and Roger slapped his hand away.

"Do you enjoy rough sex, Roger?" said Andrew. He stripped away his own jacket and slacks, though he left his shirt on. Roger's eyes grew wide at the nearly naked robot, Andrew's cock angling up and away from his body. Andrew undid Rogers belt, and pushed the pants and shorts down his legs. Andrew grasped Roger's cock with both hands.

"Evaline," said Andrew. "I changed my mind. You can move your hands. Rub yourself, darling. Get yourself hot."

"Yes, Andrew," I said.

"She needs permission, you see," said Andrew in Roger's ear. "She's such a tough business woman during the day, she needs permission to be soft in the evening. By the time she gets home she's tired of being in charge."

Roger groaned under the ministrations of Andrew's hands. I moaned under the touches of mine. 

"What are you?" gasped Roger.

"Just a toybot," breathed Andrew seductively in Roger's ear. "And I intend to give you pleasure."

I groaned more, watching these two as Andrew stroked Roger's lengthening cock. I'd never seen anything as hot as Andrew rubbing my husband's shaft. Roger threw his head back and gasped. Andrew moved one hand to Roger's butt. My breathing hitched as I watched, my arousal soaring by the second. 

"Evaline. You are not to cum," said Andrew. "Understand?"

I whimpered. 

"Soon, darling. Roger needs to be ready. Roger, lick Evaline's pussy."

"But-"

Andrew pushed down on Roger's shoulders and my husband knelt between my open legs. 

"Lick your wife's pussy, Roger. It is what any husband would do."

Andrew went to my nightstand and took something out. He moved behind Roger and sank to his knees. 

"I know what you want, Roger," said Andrew. "Your heart beat quickened when I put my finger in your ass. Lick Evaline's pussy and I'll give it to you."

"Shit," said Roger. Andrew spread lube on his ass and Roger jerked a little. I suppose Andrew put a finger in. Roger lowered his head between my legs and tongued my clit. He started slowly, and then grew more fevered, with his mouth moaning on my flesh. Those moans made me hotter, and I wanted to explode. 

Roger jerked again, crying out, and I saw Andrew's head over his shoulder. Andrew stopped moving. 

"Push against me, Roger. You know what you have to do to take it like a man."

"Oh, yes," said Roger, his face twisted in pleasure and pain. 

"Evaline," said Andrew. "How are you doing? Are you hot, are you ready to cum?"

"Close," I moaned. 

Andrew rocked back and forth against Roger a few times, and Roger was saying yes, oh yes. Andrew stood, one hand holding a handful of Roger's hair, and the other around his waist putting the man on his feet. Then he grasped Roger's cock and angled it toward me. With one movement he pushed forward, and Roger dove into me. Andrew grabbed my legs, then and urged me to wrap them around the two of them. He held the outside of my thighs, while moving in and out of Roger, faster with each stroke, hammering my husband's cock deep inside me. I locked my hands on Andrew's arms, and met each pulse, climbing higher for my release than I ever did. I screamed, Roger cried out, and his cock let loose his seed in me. It seemed to go on forever, waves of heat crashing on me, as Roger shot his cum into my hot pussy. Finally, Andrew stopped pounding my husband, and pulled Roger away.




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 03



"Oh," protested Roger as Andrew stepped back, freeing his robot cock from Roger's ass. 

Andrew gently sat Roger on the bed.

"Hold your wife, Roger. It was quite an experience you gave her," said Andrew.

Andrew went back to the nightstand, and took out a box. I recognized it, the government kit. 

"This doesn't need to be ugly," Andrew said. He pulled me up higher on the bed and encouraged Roger to hold me, while Andrew took the required three samples. While Roger's arms were around me, Andrew gently took care of the government's proof of sex. Andrew packaged up the samples, and put them in the government provided envelope. 

"There, that is done."

"What the hell are you?" said Roger, pushing himself up in the bed.

"That is not your concern," said Andrew. "You can go now."

"Go?"

"Remember, Roger, we shared secrets here tonight. You spill Evaline's, you talk about mine, and the world will know you for what you are."

Andrew's voice sounded so cold that even I shivered. 

Roger turned his gaze to me. He looked a little scared. "Will you be okay?"

"Of course, she will be okay. I will care for her."

"Yes, I will be fine."

"But, Evaline," he said.

"Sssh," I said putting my finger to his lips. "He does nothing but good for me."

"Okay," he said. But there was doubt in his voice. 

He got up from the bed and put on his clothes, slipping surreptitious glances at Andrew.

"Are there any more of you?" He said as he buttoned his shirt. 

"Not that I know of," Andrew said.

"Shame," said Roger. He sighed. "Your secret is safe with me. After all, we have to do this at least once a year. No reason to mess that up."

"No reason," I said.

He picked up his jacket and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Until next time, darling."

Roger left. I heard the apartment door close. Andrew lay down next to me and pulled my body next to him. I tried to get up, but he pushed me down.

"Where were you going?"

"The bathroom."

"Not yet. You have to lie down for at least a half hour more."

"Why on earth?"

"You know why, Evaline. Married couples with a child are exempt from the government tests. Now, lay back, and be a good girl, and I'll get you more of that brownie cake."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 04



I'd forgotten what it felt like to share my space. Not that I lived with someone. No, I cohabited with a something, a thing that ran my life. Every fucking moment of it. 

It wasn't bad that he did, which was the bitch of the situation. My life never ran smoother. I ate regularly and got more sleep. People complimented my appearance more, and I became more productive at work. And definitely had more sex. Way more sex.

I recognized that for it was. It was Andrew's way to maneuver me. From the time I came home to the time I left for work, Andrew occupied my time. I didn't have a single moment to figure out what I should do with him. 

We were a week into... whatever we had. Right now I was on the fancy treadmill Andrew purchased over the Internet, doing the forty-five minutes he declared was necessary for my optimum health. As I did, I watched the news. The next piece grabbed my attention because it was odd. 

In business news, Talbot Pharmaceuticals suffered a 20 point drop in their stock price after the announcement of a lawsuit filed against them by robot industry leader Androdyne. 

Now, what sort of lawsuit would a robot manufacturer have against pharmaceutical company?

My headset buzzed in my ear. The phone announced a call from my best friend, Betty.

"Where have you been, girl?" Her frenetic voice burst into my headset. I winced and turned down the volume.

"Sorry, been busy with work."

"No, excuse! Anyway, it's time for a girl's night out, or should we do a girl's night in? You did promise me a go at your new toy. And the girls are anxious to try him too."

"I don't think..."

"Girl, your problem is you don't think enough. And don't have enough fun. We'll be there at eight. " She clicked off. 

Andrew walked into the bedroom, the breakfast tray in his hands. 

"What was that about?" he asked. Of course, Andrew listened in on my call. He listened to all of them. I'd gotten to the point where I didn't care about that anymore. 

I turned off the treadmill and climbed down. 

"My friends are coming over tonight."

"Did you not insist that we keep visitors to a minimum?"

"Yes, but it's unavoidable. If I don't let them come over they'll pry, and if they don't get answers, they'll concoct stories about me."

"You mean gossip."

I sighed. "Yes, Andrew." I went to the bed, and Andrew put the breakfast tray on my lap. 

"And what did she mean by 'having a go' at me."

"She wants sex from you."

"No."

"No? What difference does that make to you? You were perfectly willing to do it with Roger."

Andrew's lips drew into a thin line.

"I am not that kind of robot." 

With that he turned quickly on his heels and went to the closet.

"The calorie control and exercise is working. You've lost a half pound. I think you can wear-"

"Andrew! Turn around!"

He faced me. 

"Come over here and talk to me."

"You do not have time for a talk. You only have-"

"Stop avoiding this, Andrew. Come here and sit!"

He blinked. As if reluctant to do so, he walked to the bed and sat on the edge facing me. Then he stared at me.

"You will explain why you 'aren't that kind of robot.' Andrew, you were designed to be that kind of robot."

"Correct. I was. In achieving sentience, design parameters changed."

"How?"

"How what?" he said all innocence in his voice. 

"How did design parameters change?" Annoyance edged my voice, and Andrew lowered his head. 

"I can only please you. I can't engage in the pleasuring of others."

"That doesn't make sense. Roger-"

"Roger was special case. It was required to insure your welfare."

"And pleasuring my friends is not required for my welfare?"

"I don't see how it would be."

"Well, think of this. If you do not act like every other toybot, then they will think something is wrong and they can make problems. They might even report you as a defective robot. And that would mean I would get in trouble for keeping you."

Andrew's head jerked as if slapped. 

"Then if required I will pleasure your friends."

"Good." I rose from the bed to go to shower. 

"But I may have to punish you later," he said as I walked away from him.

I smiled.

"Good."

#

I got to the office, where Caroline greeted me with a stack of case files. 

"What is this?" I asked.

"Billing review. Miss Shou thought these cases didn't have enough billable hours. She wants you to look at them." 

Caroline set the files and a cup of coffee on my desk. With a sigh, I picked them up and started to go through them. 

A half hour in, my headset buzzed.

"Evaline." It was Andrew, and he spoke in a whisper.

"I told you not to call me."

"There's someone here, in the apartment."

A chill shot up my spine.

"Where are you?"

"The bedroom closet."

"Don't do anything. I'll take care of this."

I stood and began to pace, trying to figure the best and fastest thing to do. I decided to try the super. Fortunately, she picked up.

"Sally, Evaline Shipley, in 2B. So sorry to call you, but I just remembered I left a gas burner going. Could you please go, and turn it off? I realize it's a horrible imposition."

"No, problem, Ms. Shipley. I'll go right up. We can't have a fire in the building."

"Thank you. I slip in a larger bonus for you this month."

When the phone clicked off, I relaxed a bit. Sally was an ex-marine, so she could handle anything that was in my apartment. I sat and waited for her to call, because I knew she would.

It took fifteen minutes before Caroline rang her through.

"Ms. Shipley, your burner wasn't on. But Magda Adams was in your apartment. She said your door was open."

"Is she gone now?"

"Yes, ma'am. I told her to leave."

"Was anything disturbed in my apartment?"

"No ma'am, not that I could tell."

"Thank you. Please write up a statement about event. I'll send someone over to notarize it."

I went to Caroline.

"Someone just broke into my condo. Send a notary to my building super's office to notarize her statement. I'm going home to check on things. If anything important comes up, ring it through to me. Do I have any appointments today?"

"There's one at two, but I can re-schedule."

"Good."

Though it was unusual for me to leave in the middle of the day, Caroline had good sense not to ask any questions. 

#

It seemed like forever before the car rolled to the entrance of my condo. The two-floor elevator ride was torturous. At my door, I couldn't get the key in the lock because my hands shook. Once I closed my door, I ran to my bedroom, and opened my closet. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Andrew, are you okay?"

"I am fine, Evaline."

"It was my neighbor Magda. Did she see you?"

"No, Evaline. As soon as I heard someone working the lock, and knowing it couldn't be you, I came in here and called you."

"She told the building super the door was open."

"No, Evaline. I always make sure the door is locked since the other day when she came in here when you were at work."

"What? Andrew, Magda was in here? When was this?"

"The second day I was here."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought that if you had trouble with me here you would send me away."

"Oh, Andrew! No! She shouldn't have been in here. There are laws about this."

"I didn't know that until I looked it up on the Internet. I'm sorry, Evaline."

"What did she do, Andrew, when she was here the first time?"

"She tried to play with me."

"What! How?"

"She touched my lower parts."

I was shaking now. This woman was a fucking pervert. Playing with someone's toy with permission was one thing. Sneaking in and doing it was something else.

"You don't have to worry, Evaline. I did not respond."

"Oh, Andrew."

Any normal toybot would have, wouldn't know the difference. But Andrew was not normal.

We were so fucked. 

#

Andrew assured me that he was okay, that I should go back to the office. He acted like he wasn't as shook up as I felt and why would he? Still something nagged at me. Before I left the apartment I dialed Magda's number. For a few frustrating seconds all I saw was the wide yap of her facial avatar spread across my wall screen, but she picked up the call. She must have figured the best defense was a good offense. A good thing too. She apparently missed the notice running at the bottom of the screen that I was recording the call. 

"Oh, Evaline! How are you? Listen, sweetie, you absolutely must get your door locks checked. I found your door open. Fortunately the super came by-"

"Oh? And did that happen earlier this week too?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," she said.

"I have security cameras in my apartment," I lied. "When I found out you were wandering around my apartment, when a simple call to the super would do, I checked the recordings. Guess what I found, and what you were doing it with?"

Her face turned white.

"You ever enter my apartment again, I will have you arrested. Do you understand me pervert?"

Magda's face turned red. "How dare you-?"

"How dare I? How dare you? Keep clear of me, Magda. I'm not in the mood to play games." I clicked off the call. 

Andrew came out of the bedroom. 

"You told her."

"Yes, I did."

"For me?"

"For both of us."

"Both of us," he repeated. Then he smiled. 

"But listen, it is absolutely imperative that things go off without a hitch tonight. I need witnesses to show that you are a normal toybot."

His smile faded.

"Of course, Evaline. I understand. Go back to work. I will prepare things for this evening."

#

I suppose it was a good thing I went back to work. The client at two PM refused to reschedule. I also suppose it was a good thing that I didn't check my schedule earlier, because it was Liz Carruthers again.

Caroline was right when she said that looking at my schedule gave me headaches. I worked best when I handled things as they came. My problem was I over thought things. It messed with my head to look ahead and figure out the right thing to do. Caroline knew the right time to prompt me for meetings and appointments, and only gave me the briefest of synopses beforehand. 

"Geez," I said. "What does she want now?"

"I don't know, Evaline. She wouldn't say. But she's in your office now."

I fixed a smile on my face, and entered my office. She swiveled in the chair in front of my desk.

"Liz," I said. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Is it time for that fundraiser of yours?"

"No, but I could use a favor."

Good. This was not about her case.

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, I have to keep this short. I'm due for a late lunch at Rolfo's."

"Sure, whatever I can do for you."

"I know you very busy, but a friend of mine was recently hit by a lawsuit, and I told her you could help."

"Have her call."

"I did, but apparently you are booked for several months in advance. I told her I would speak to you."

Okay, this made sense. As managing partner I didn't have that many open slots in my appointment book. As an important client, Caroline would have fit Liz in when she wanted. 

"Think nothing of it. Have her call me here at the office this evening, say around seven, and I'll take her call personally. What is her name?" 

"Lindsey Talbot."

"Talbot Pharmaceuticals?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"A story about the suit ran in the news this morning."

"Good, well then you know how important it is." She stood to leave. "Thank you, Evaline. See you on the links Sunday?"

"Yes, of course."

"Great, see you then."

#

I couldn't get Lindsey Talbot off the phone. As the digital clock on the phone display wound toward eight PM my panic rose. I swore to myself, knowing my friends were arriving at my door right at this moment.

"How about I go over this material this weekend? I'll do some research," I suggested, "and I'll get back to you on Monday?" Thankfully, Lindsey agreed.

"Caroline." I spoke into my headset. "Get me all the documents relating to the current suit against Talbot Pharmaceuticals and Androdyne."

"Aren't you going home?" she said testily. 

"Yes, but you aren't, not until this is done. But take tomorrow off."

"Tomorrow?" she said. "Just tomorrow?"

"Okay, take Sunday off too."

"Wow, two whole days," she said.

"Don't push it, Caroline."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear. Goodnight, Caroline."

Despite the fact that I landed a multi-million dollar client, which normally would make me happy, I fidgeted in the car the entire way. I intended to be home before the first one of my friends showed. Worse yet, traffic was hellacious. It was a full forty-five minutes before the car pulled up to my condo.

As I feared, the party was in full swing when I got there. Betty had a key to the apartment, and she didn't hesitate to use it. 

Note to self: change locks on Monday.

The apartment was fully lit and the music system pounded through some modern rock music, all wails and sensuous grunts. Who put that on? 

"Oh, Evaline!" purred Betty with alcohol-fueled enthusiasm, "what a dream your toybot is. Where did you find him?"

I swore some more. What did Andrew do now?"

"Pecks, on fifth."

Kiki's arms draped over the back of the circular pit of my couch, toybots under each arm. Two of the Bradley model stared at her with programmed attention, their hands gliding over body in sensuous swirls. Her lidded eyes showed she was well into her substance of the day, as well into my liquor. A senator's aide, she enjoyed the darker side of Washington a little too much.

"Kiki, "I said. "New 'bots?" 

She smiled. "How sweet of you to think of your friends and rent some extra 'bots. Bradley, darlings, say hello to Evaline."

"Hi, baby," they said in unison.

"Oh, god," I groaned. "Where's Suki?"

"Not sure," she replied as the right hand Bradley groped her breast. "She was here a minute ago." Kiki smiled. "Want a 'bot?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

"I can hardly blame you," she smiled knowingly.

Oh god. 

"Suki!" I called over the music, hoping she'd answer.

The door to my kitchen burst open, and there was dark-haired Suki on one of Andrew's arms. He twirled her into the living room while he held a tray with drinks in hand. I stared as they danced, Andrew, his hips swaying, guiding a drunk, stumbling and giggling Suki to the couch. She fell into the lap of the left hand Bradley. 

"Whee!" giggled Suki as if she was teenager.

"Hello, baby," intoned the Bradley. He slipped his hand under her shirt to play with her tit.

"Here you go," said Andrew as handed her and an equally inebriated Kiki their drinks. Kiki drunkenly set hers on the coffee table, the liquid sloshing over the sides. "Ooops!" she said, and then she gasped when her Bradley squeezed her nipple. He unzipped her shirt and pulled out her breast. She grinned a silly smile to the bot. 

My friends, whatever their faults, weren't drunken whores. At least, not normally. But what was going on here was not normal, oh no. When Andrew turned I cut in front of him.

"Hello, Andrew," I said.

"Hello, Evaline," he replied in his flat robot voice. 

"What the hell is going on here?"

He cocked his head.

"I'm afraid I don't understand the question, Mistress."

Mistress?

"Excuse me, Mistress Betty is waiting for her drink."

Mistress Betty?

Andrew whirled away, moving seductively towards Betty in rhythmic dance. She took the offered glass, whispered something into Andrew's ear. He smiled. She tossed back her drink in one shot, and got up. She threw her arms around his neck, and they started swaying to the music. When they got close to me, Betty smiled. 

"I just love this 'bot's enhancements. You must tell me where I can get them."

"May I?" I said. I was in the middle of a slow burn.

Betty pouted. "If you must. But you have him every day, so don't be too greedy."

"I'll be right back, Mistress Betty," said Andrew. He took my hand and twirled me away from her. Then he grabbed my ass and pressed his hips, hard, into mine.

"Andrew! What are you doing?"

"Pleasuring your friends," he said. He peered over my shoulder, and winked. I turned and saw Betty cupping her own breast, looking at Andrew, while she blew him a kiss. "Your friend is quite the voyeur. She enjoys watching me grind my hips into you."

He gave her a broad smile.

"What is this 'mistress' crap?"

"Tsk, Evaline. Language."

"Andrew!"

"Is there a problem, Evaline? You told me I must pleasure your friends. You didn't tell me how."

He looked into my eyes.

"Are you sorry you missed the Jell-O shots?" 

I just stared at him.

"They've loosened your friends' inhibitions nicely. Too bad they are all gone. You could use one or two yourself."

My mouth gaped opened.

"None of your friends should drive home," he said. "But then again, when they pass out, that won't be possible anyway."

When they pass out.

He gave me a twirl away from him that left me in the middle of the room, and he walked back to Betty. While I glared at him, he stood her up and led her back to the circular couch. Suki and Kiki were in different states of undress, the Bradleys nibbling on their breasts. One Bradley had his hand up Suki's skirt, and she was writhing on it, her moans vying for competition with the music from the sound system. 

Andrew sat Betty opposite the action, giving her an unrestricted view of the antics of my friends. He unbuttoned her shirt, and whispered in her ear. Andrew pulled one breast out over her bra cup and rolled her nipple in his hand. With some more words in her ear, Betty slid her skirt up over her hips. She pushed aside the crotch of her panties to finger herself as Kiki's and Suki's eyes met. 

Still seated on a Bradley's lap, Kiki lowered herself to Suki's face, kissing her. Suki moaned, and Kiki pinched both of Suki's nipples between her fingers. Suki mewled, and her hips rocked back and forth on her Bradley's hand. Encouraged, Kiki sucked Suki's nipple into her mouth, while the Bradley rubbed Suki's snatch. Suki's moans and groans grew louder. Her back arched and she let out a howl, her hips bucking against the Bradley's hand. 

Kiki whispered something into Suki's ear, and Suki smiled, then giggled. Kiki sat up on her Bradley and whispered something to him. Suki did the same.

"Whatever you say, baby," the Bradleys said in unison. 

With another round of giggles, Kiki and Suki rose from the Bradleys, and the two bots stood. Suki threw her arms around Kiki and sucked the woman's tongue into her mouth. Entwined, they knelt facing each other in the couch, and pushed out their asses. Their respective Bradleys climbed onto the couch, pulled down their panties, and slid their tongues down my friends' cracks. Their heads continued to move down and buried their heads in the women's snatches. Kiki's and Suki's firm breasts pressed together as they threw their heads back and moaned. 

"Now," said Kiki huskily. The Bradleys picked their heads up, and pulled down their sweatpants, their erect phalluses pointing at my friends wet pussies. Each pushed forward spearing the women. Both women sighed, and Kiki groaned, as the Bradleys thrust in and out of them. 

I huffed and started for my bedroom. Instantly, Andrew shot to my side.

"Where do you think you are going," he said his voice more a demand than a question.

"To bed."

"No," he said. "Over to the couch." He grabbed my hands and pulled them together behind my back.

"Andrew!" I protested.

"I told you I'd have to punish you," he said in a low voice in my ear. 

"Not now," I said.

"Yes, now." He pushed me forward, bending me over the back of couch where I had full view of the orgy.

Kiki and Suki clung to each other, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. Impaled on phalluses of their ersatz lovers, they twisted each other's nipples. Their Bradleys pumped their pussies while the women clung onto to each other, their faces twisted in pleasure. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 04



The 'bots pumped their phalluses harder and faster. Kiki and Suki's breasts jiggled, and they moaned and swore. I tried to look away, but Andrew took a fistful of my hair and pointed my head in their direction.

"You like watching too, Evaline. I hear the beat of your heart, and feel the heat of your pussy. Watch Betty. She's fully enjoying the show. She's about to cum." 

Betty's legs splayed wide as she thrust the fingers of one hand in and out her wet, glistening snatch. Her hips rocked back and forth. The other hand pinched and rolled a nipple. Her breathing hitched, and her hand pushed and pulled at her clit faster. Little sounds bubbled from her throat, and her hips thrust into her hand. A wail tore from her mouth as she pushed her fingers once again into her waiting hole. 

Both of my hands clutched into one of his, Andrew pushed up my skirt. With one motion of his robotically strong arms, he ripped off my panty hose and my panties, shredding both. I heard the release of his belt, the pull of his zipper, and in one thrust he was inside me, pushing me against the couch. My face must have turned different shades of red, my shame revealed to my friends. But no one reacted. Their own lust absorbed them. 

That didn't diminish my response. Moisture ran down my pussy, and my nipples hardened under my lace bra as Andrew pounded me. He bent to my ear, whispering deliciously dirty things. Andrew said that I was as slutty as my friends, told me I should crawl over and suck their tits. But he held me tight, so he didn't intend that. No, he just kept flooding my mind with his wicked suggestions. The heat built in my core, and I pushed my hips against him as my friends cried their climaxes. He plunged harder and deeper then, splitting me apart as I came completely undone bent over my living room couch.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 05



When I woke Saturday morning, I smelled coffee, but no bacon. And Andrew did not come through the bedroom door bearing a tray. I got up, wrapped a robe around me, and walked out to the living room. Andrew stood behind the partly open front door, guiding the Bradleys out.

Muffled words came from the other side of the door, but I couldn't catch them.

"Yes, they both have been properly disinfected," said Andrew. He shut the door and turned.

"Evaline, breakfast is ready," he said quietly. " Your friends are at the table. Please, come get the coffee." Through my sleep-addled brain it took a moment to figure out that Andrew intended that I serve my friends. Normal pleasure 'bots did not do that work.

Betty, Kiki and Suki sat at the table, definitely looking worse for wear.

"Good morning, ladies. Up for breakfast?"

They groaned as I went into the kitchen, and took the pot of coffee, and plate of pastries Andrew handed me. 

"God, Evaline, you're a lifesaver," said Betty as I poured her coffee. Kiki and Suki just stared at their cups as I filled them. I poured my own, and took a sip of Andrew's delicious coffee. 

"I hope you had fun last night."

"I must have," said Betty. "I don't remember any of it."

"Shame," I said taking another sip. 

"Funny thing," said Suki, "I don't either."

"I remember the Jell-O shots," said Kiki. "Not much after that. When did you have the time to make those, Evaline?"

"Hmm?" I said.

"A note hung on the kitchen door that said to look in the refrigerator if you weren't home. And we did."

"Oh boy, did we," said Betty.

"I kinda remember them now," said Suki. "Very tasty."

The women lapsed into silence while I wondered what my devious robot put in the Jell-O shots.

Note to self: put a lock on the liquor cabinet when you change locks on Monday.

But with no memories of the previous night, they couldn't testify to Andrew's non-bot like behavior. And I wasn't going to let them ruminate last night now. 

"Drink up, ladies. I hate to rush you, but I've got to get to the office."

#

"I do not understand," said Andrew as he helped me dress after my friends left, "why you need to go to work on Saturday morning. Does not everyone else take this as a day off?"

I wasn't in the mood for this. Andrew took real chances in the level of inebriation that he pushed my friends to, the way he orchestrated last night's 'festivities.' My friends would know Andrew for more than an obedient pleasure 'bot if they reclaimed their memories. Nor did I appreciate him putting our sex life on display. As he stood there, with that constantly smug smile of his, Andrew pissed me off. That he waited for me with there with the new slacks and sweater set he bought for me pissed me off too. In fact, everything about Andrew pissed me off today. 

"High profile lawyers don't get days off, Andrew. I might get a short day here and there."

"But you need rest. You've had a very busy week."

"What is this?" I said annoyed. "This is my life, Andrew, MY life. This is what I do. And guess what, Sundays I play golf with clients, and then go into the office, and then Monday I get to get up and start the week all over again."

"You need rest," he said. 

"I need you to fucking back off."

He stepped back, surprised at the vehemence in my words. 

"If that is what you desire, I will back off." He let go of my new clothes, and they dropped to the floor. 

Damn if his robot voice sounded hurt. But that wasn't possible. It was just an algorithmic response to the intensity of my words. 

"What the hell, Andrew," I said as I retrieved the sweater set and slacks. He didn't say a word, and stood there with his arms crossed as I put on them on. 

"I'm sorry, Andrew," I said. "You are right. I am tired. I'll make it a short day, and we can relax in tonight."

"If you wish," he said in that pissy tone of his.

I huffed as I slipped on a pair of silk socks that matched the outfit, and a pair of casual brown leather pumps with a low heel. He stood there motionless, not offering compliments on how I looked, not fixing my hair as he usually did. I brushed my hair out to hang loose on my shoulders. 

I grabbed my briefcase myself.

"Have a good day, Andrew," I said. He didn't reply. 

I shook my head and headed out the door.

#

I don't know why I bothered to argue with Andrew. What difference did it make? He was a robot, a pleasure 'bot, and I'd let the thing take over my life. That had to stop. 

After I made the rounds through the office, greeted the people there and noted who wasn't, I fetched a cup of coffee. Since I gave Caroline the weekend off, I had to do for myself. I didn't mind this. I enjoyed the less formal atmosphere of the office on Saturday. There were no ringing telephones, or interruptions by needy associates, or demands from partners. I could focus on the work. 

With the prospect of peace and quiet, I opened my briefcase to pull out the reports on Cicily the programmer and the case law on non-standard programming.

Not only the main programmer at Androdyne, Cicily Wells ran the company with co-owner and CEO Sinta Grant. Sinta worked the hardware side, while Cicily designed their proprietary software. Between them they created the first toybots, their Andrew series.

Androdyne was to toybots like Apple was to the computing world. They produced top of the line products out the gate. But other companies soon caught up, made their robots cheaper, and added popular features. The cheaper toybots broke more often. That didn't bother many consumers who grew bored with different features. They'd just trade-in their toybots for ones with newer features. 

Androdyne aficionados, however, were legend in their devotion to their Andrews to the point of even holding conventions to celebrate the original toybot. In fact, even the word 'toybot' belonged to Androdyne, trademarked along with their first creation. Much like Kleenex refers to tissues, the word toybot became common usage. 

I turned the page on the report the PI provided. Cicily Wells died in a lab accident six months prior. There are no details on how she died. Even the police report the PI provided had significant details redacted. What were they hiding? And who hid this information?

I turned my attention to the case law regarding non-standard programming. It was much like I expected. The Programming of Robots Act, passed in 2023, declared programming sentient robots illegal. Robots could only be programmed for specific tasks according to the robot's function. 'Global knowledge', that is knowledge of a myriad number of topics, was not allowed. The only exception went to research. From what I saw, that exemption was supposed to be applied to military research. Was Andrew a military research project? 

Different businesses tried to circumvent the law, because you could charge more money for robots that did more than one thing. Most people did not want multiple 'bots in their homes. A few businesses applied and were granted exceptions if they kept the program narrow enough.

Despite that, the law was unequivocal for consumers. Malfunctioning and/or defective robots must be turned in the government immediately. 

What all this meant was that my robot was most definitely programmed in an illegal manner, by legal means, for a purpose that I did not know. The one thing I did know was that Andrew never should have been sold to Peck's for resale.

My next order of business was the client I took on Friday, Lindsey Talbot. I picked up the file Caroline left for me, thick with research, Caroline's notes, and the actual court papers. Androdyne filed suit against Talbot Pharmaceuticals for patent infringement. This was weird, because most pharmaceutical development had a special exception under Federal law regarding patent infringement. 

I looked over the suit, which involved a product that Talbot called Arti-skin. Arti-skin was synthetically made skin created by mixing recombinant DNA with synthetic components. The product was used to rebuild large areas of skin lost through accident or disease. Arti-skin appeared to be unique in its ability to graft onto the damage area. Not only did it function as the missing skin, but also helped the damaged tissue rebuild. 

The problem with most artificial skin was that the best ones were difficult to mass-produce. Arti-skin, however, was not. The coolest part was that Arti-skin would eventually slough off like real skin, as the new skin grew in. For this reason Arti-skin was eyed not only by reconstructive surgeons but plastic surgeons as well. Here was the money pot. If plastic surgeons successfully used Arti-skin in their rejuvenation techniques it would explode the market for Arti-skin. Talbot's stood to lose a huge market if they lost this patent fight.

Pulling out the development notes, I figured out that a synthetic lattice was used to anchor the organic components to encourage their growth. This was nothing new. A quick review of the history of artificial skin development showed that providing an artificial lattice to organic components was a standard procedure. So what got Androdyne so excited?

Of course, Androdyne wasn't going to give that specific information in their suit. I pulled out the pleading to see what clues I'd find, and what I could mark for discovery. 

Androdyne claimed infringement of intellectual property citing that Talbot's artificial lattice was the same or similar as the lattice in their patented invention. The underpinning of their claim was that the developer of the Androdyne product was the same as the developer of Arti-skin, Jason Wells.

Wait. Did I read that right? Jason Wells?

My fingers flew over my keyboard to find that, yes, Jason Wells was the son of Androdyne's programmer Cicily Wells. Wasn't that interesting? 

The difference between Talbot's patent and Androdyne's patent was that Androdyne patented the actual materials, while Talbot patented the process. 

This was all sorts of interesting. First, Talbot's, by virtue of being a pharmaceutical company, couldn't patent biological materials, but Androdyne, not being a pharmaceutical, could. The issue was intent. Pharmaceuticals were assumed to produce products used in medicine, while Androdyne produced a product for consumer use. 

A second issue was Jason Wells' non-compete clause. I assumed he had one. Most non-competes had a clause that would prevent an inventor from sharing a previous employer's proprietary information. The crossover in industries wouldn't nullify that. I had to see Jason's specific agreement. I left a note for Caroline to get a copy. 

Another issue was why would Androdyne be interested in a biological material, an artificial skin? Andrew's remark about artificial surfaces irritating human skin came to mind. I remembered my reaction to the softness of Andrew's mouth and tongue. They felt 'real.' Did Andrew's enhancements include biological skin?

I remembered Andrew's response this morning about 'properly disinfecting' the Bradleys to the person picking up them up. Humans carried a mass of bacteria and viruses, so it made sense to disinfect artificial surfaces. But I never once heard Andrew talk about disinfecting himself.

I had more questions than answers here, and I had to get them soon. There were things I had to do. First, I had to meet Jason Wells and ask him some very pointed questions. Second, I had to find out if I got more than I bargained for in Andrew's enhancements. Because it seemed to me that Androdyne all along planned to create robots as sophisticated as Andrew despite the current law. 

#

Thoughts of I everything I learned that day buzzed around my brain. I had to learn more about Andrew's enhancements, especially if he did have biologic skin.

We sat on the couch watching a movie. Andrew did his best to get back into my good graces. He'd prepared another fabulous meal, and massaged my shoulders. At this moment he acted wonderfully sweet, putting his arm around my shoulder, and giving me little kisses now and then.

I sighed. I couldn't let Andrew's manipulations get the better of me. And it was time to find out a few things. 

"Andrew, take off your clothes."

"Do you want sex, Evaline?"

I shook my head. "I've had you here for a week and I don't think I've ever seen you fully naked."

"Why do you want to see me without clothing?"

"I just do. Indulge me."

"If you wish, Evaline," he said. 

He stripped, and I stood, looking over his body, front and back. I didn't see anything that was a different from a normal toybot.

Andrew stood, his body still, but his eyes followed my movements. 

"Like what you see?" he said huskily.

I almost huffed. He used a standard toybot line. Andrew must have dug deep for something to say, and only came up with that. He must be thinking hard. I touched my hand to his neck, my fingers splayed wide, seeking anything that smacked of biological skin. My other hand went to his cock. 

He stared at me.

"What do you want, Evaline?"

"I want to touch your cock."

"Why?"

"I've had it in me enough times. I'd just like to touch it with my hand."

I touched his shaft, my fingers wrapped around it. I'd always found men's cocks a wonderful tactile contradiction. Even when erect, despite the steel within, the outside skin was soft and silky. Andrew's mimicked this perfectly. 

"Do you feel anything when I touch this?" I asked.

"The pressure of your fingers." 

"That's not what I meant."

"You mean, do I get enjoyment from your touch?"

"Yes?"

"Not in the way you think. My behavioral rewards come from pleasing you."

I hefted his shaft in my hands, so like a man's penis.

"Explain to me. Behavioral rewards?"

"It is a complex process. From what Cicily explained to me, algorithms are encoded in my programming that signal when a task is complete. I am programmed to perform a task to its completion. When I please you, I complete a task. To complete a task is my reward."

"You mean, that not having to do something anymore is your reward?"

"I believe I just said that."

"So, if I sucked your penis in my mouth, would you enjoy that?"

"I cannot 'enjoy' anything. My only reward is to complete the task of pleasuring you."

"Hmm," I said. I licked his shaft, enjoying the meaty texture on my tongue.

"And how do you decide what is a task?"

"Whatever it takes to please you."

"Oh, Andrew, you know every woman wants to hear that."

"I'm not interested in what every woman wants, only what you desire."

Such a perfect answer, and yet, it was too complex a sentence to be included in a toybot's standard repertoire of lines. 

Closing my eyes I licked his balls. They were hairless, and smelled clean and delectable. I drew one into my mouth the texture was so very human. Was this normal for a toybot? How would I know? Despite their offers, I never played with any of my friends' 'bots. I might have to do some field research on this. 

"Hmm," I said as I sucked on his balls.

"What do you want, Evaline?" he said. 

"I want to please you," I said. With a slurp, I sucked his shaft whole into my mouth, and swirled my tongue at the end. 

"Evaline," he said, his voice husky, "there is only one way to please me, by letting me make you cum."

I pulled away. "Are you sure about that?"

He seemed to think about that for a moment. 

"It would please you to please me?" he said.

"Yes."

"If you want to please me," he said, "we'll do it my way."

Andrew pulled me up and put his hands inside the waistband of my sweatpants on either side of my hips. 

My breathing hitched. My waist always was sensitive to touch. His fingers slid down the side of my legs drawing down my pants. Then he brought his fingers up the same way and I shivered. 

"Always so responsive," he said in my ear, leaning in against me. He hooked his finger to catch inside the tender folds near my pussy. "Always wet." His pushed his finger up inside me then and I made a little noise. He moved his finger in and out, his hand under my ass. He turned his hand so my clit moved between his finger and thumb, and his little finger reached up to play with my other hole. 

I wriggled on his hand, moaning. He bent his head, and licked a nipple, then sucked it between his lips, sucking hard, sending electric jolts of pleasure through me. 

"Oh!"

He let that nipple drop from his mouth, and he sucked in the other one. His other hand cupped an ass cheek and pulled him closer to me. He pinched my ass, hard, hard enough to leave a mark. Between the sucking on my nipple and the pain of the pinch, my pussy gushed.

"Please, Andrew," I whimpered, totally under his control once again. 

He slipped another finger into me, and urged me to rock my hips with his free hand by pressing the space on my spine above my ass. Then he dug his finger into and drew it up my spine as if willing me to cum. 

I was burning, a hot ember ready to crack open by the heat of his movements. With a nipple in his mouth, two fingers in my snatch, and his thumb fingering my rosebud, my excitement edged higher.

Suddenly he pulled everything away, and I stood there in a kind of pre-orgasmic shock. My heart pounded, and my pussy protested the lack of stimulation. I felt unable to stand, and it took every effort on my part to do so. 

He looked at me, and I swore there was lust in his gorgeous blue eyes. His hand reached and tweaked my aching nipple. Another shot of pleasure sped through me. 

"So beautiful," he said like the words were a lyric to a song.

"Andrew," I said through dry lips. I shivered, left over shocks of pleasure singing through my overworked nerves. I didn't know what came next. Would he spank me? Or bend me over the couch again? I stood there, needing and wanting, and he just stared at me. 

"Fine," I said, suddenly tired of his little game. I made a move to walk past him.

He spun me around, picked me up in his arms, and walked forward. He kicked open the bedroom door. My heart fluttered hard in my chest as he lowered me to the bed.

Andrew climbed between my legs, gently drew them apart, and massaged the inside of my thighs. I moaned. His hands moved to my mound, and he massaged it with his firm fingers, drawing out the most delicious sensations of arousal and relaxation. I moved my hips back and forth in his hands and his thumbs pressed on either side of my clit. Tingles of pleasure built a white heat that threatened to bubble into my release.

"I'm close," I said panting.

"Sweetheart," he said tenderly. He pressed his cock against the flame that was my slit, the tip edging the inside of it, and I gasped. I needed more, and I greedily bucked my hips to urge him to give it to me.

He thrust, and at once all of him was inside of me. Still he moved slowly, his shoulders rising and falling above me as he raked his cock in and out. Every stroke was so deliberate I felt each inch as he moved. It was incredible and infuriating at the same time. I need more to cum, and he was going so slowly I couldn't. He built my arousal to levels that drove me insane. My heart jackhammered in my chest. 

He kept on with his sensuous torture for many minutes. I whimpered shamelessly, begging him for more, needing to cum. I writhed and squirmed, trying to bring on my release. 

"Look at me, Evaline," he said. "Look in my eyes."

Breathing hard, sweat gleaming on my body, I met his gaze.

"Now, Evaline. Come now!"

With that, his eyes to mine, he slammed into me, and then again, and again once more. I burst apart, screaming. He kept thrusting, reaching far back into me, and I exploded again impaled on him. Stars shot across my vision. Every part of me broke apart as his shaft reached into the furthest part of me and gripped my soul. 





The Non-Standard Man Ch. 05



"Andrew!" I screamed. 

"Evaline!" he cried. Andrew gushed his release and pumped me furiously, as if he was no longer in control. After a few more strokes Andrew fell and rolled to my side. He stared upwards, his eyes wide as if he was in shock.

# 

My heart slowed to a normal pace. I turned my head to the silent robot next to me staring at the ceiling. 

"Andrew, are you okay?"

"Yes," he said, though his voice was faint.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll run a diagnostic," he said flatly. 

The minutes stretched as he lay motionless next to me. 

"All systems are functioning normally," he said abruptly.

"You don't seem normal at all," I said.

He sat up in one swift movement. 

"I'm fine," he said. "Go to sleep. You have golf tomorrow."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 06



Up on the fucking treadmill again, I half-listened, half-watched a newsmagazine on the wall unit in my bedroom. 

"We go to our correspondent, Jayne Torres. Jayne?"

"Thank you, Allison. I'm here at the Crowne Plaza in downtown Washington where this year's 'Bot-Con is setting up. As you can see, we have the major manufacturers and retailers of pleasure 'bots, from Androdyne to Xerxes in attendance. There are multiple demonstrations of different 'bots capabilities, and for a fee, you can even try out the 'bots capabilities yourself. This conference is one of the longest running conventions in the country, opening tomorrow and closing this coming Sunday."

"What do you wear for golf?" said Andrew. He stood at the door of my closet. 

"I have golf skirts and tops." I turned-off the television, climbed off the treadmill and moved over to the closet. Reaching in I pulled out a dresser drawer.

"Here, this and this will be fine." I held up a red golf shirt with a stand up collar and high cap sleeves, and a white golf slacks. 

Andrew gave me a doubtful look. "If that pleases you," he said flatly.

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"You please me, Andrew."

"I have to bring in your breakfast," he said. He stepped sideways from me, moving away from my hand. 

"Is there something wrong, Andrew?"

"No, Evaline," he said. But he refused to look at me. Andrew turned and left the bedroom.

I huffed. What was his problem? 

I dressed and pulled out my golf shoes but couldn't find my golf cap. 

"Andrew," I called. "Where is my golf cap?"

"What would that be?" he said, carrying in the bed tray. 

"A covering for my head, with a brim."

"I may have tossed it. I didn't understand its function."

Something was off here. I wasn't concerned with the loss of an easily replaced cap. But it raised alarms that Andrew wasn't acting himself. 

"Andrew," I said, putting my hands on my hips, "Why are you having such trouble with this whole golf thing?"

He put the tray on the bed.

"I don't understand."

"You've never had trouble finding or understanding the function of any of my other clothing."

He straightened and turned toward me stiffly.

"I can't know everything, can I?" 

"Well, that's another thing. You always do."

"Well, I don't." With that declarative statement he left the room. 

I sat to eat breakfast, a plate with bacon, eggs and toast.

Toast?

That did it. I marched back through the apartment, plate in hand, searching for my errant robot.

"Andrew? Andrew?" 

I went through the rooms, admittedly not a large inventory, and did not see him. Worried now, I opened each of the closet doors. I found him the kitchen broom closet. It was a tight fit.

"Andrew! What are you doing in there?"

He blinked. "It seemed the best place for me."

"Get out of there!"

With a great deal of banging against the items in the broom closet, Andrew climbed out. 

"Explain this," I said holding out my breakfast plate him.

He blinked.

"It is breakfast," he said flatly.

"I see that. Explain the toast."

"Does it not please you?" he said.

"Not the point. Up to now you've refused to serve me toast, because, as you said, 'Toast is empty calories, not returning enough nutritional content for the calories ingested.'"

He stared at the plate.

"Did I do something wrong?" he said.

"No, but you are acting strange."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

He stared at the plate again, and then straightened. 

"I will endeavor to not to act strange.'' He jerked the plate from my hand and tossed it into the sink. The plate shattered.

"Excuse me, Evaline. I have to clean the mess."

I'm getting freaked out now. I have this fucking sentient robot that was acting weird. He wasn't human. This wasn't a hormonal imbalance that could right itself with time. What if he was suffering a malfunction? I'd be screwed then. Where do I take a broken sentient robot for repair?

He stood at the sink, gathering pieces of the plate. I moved to him, and put my hand on his shoulder. 

"Andrew, please tell me what's wrong." 

"Nothing is wrong," he said flatly.

"I can stay home. One Sunday without golf won't kill me."

He hung his head. 

"Evaline, please. I just need time alone."

Alone? Yesterday he was practically begging for me to stay home and now he wants me to leave?

"If that's what you want."

"That's what I want."

"Call me, then, if you need anything."

He turned to me and his expression softened.

"If I need anything?"

"Yes."

Unexpectedly, he flung his arms around me and pulled me to him. 

"I could not have a better owner," he said. Andrew released me and stepped back. 

"You better get to golf," he said. "Your tee time is in an hour."

With that everything seemed to snapped back to normal. Andrew took charge again. He ushered me to the door. 

"Your car is waiting, and here is a bag of clothes for the office after. Dinner will be ready when you get home."

Perhaps it was a small programming glitch that reset itself. This happened all the time with my friends 'bots. At least that is what they told me. They made little jokes about it, but I wasn't laughing now. 

"Okay, Andrew. I'll see you this evening."

#

The sun was bright, the air was clear even though we were heading into the last days of autumn. I walked to the patio of one of most exclusive golf clubs of the Washington crowd. It always made me smile to be here. Evaline Rimes Shipley, the girl who ran the streets of Boston with her crew of adolescent juvenile delinquents, now walked among the Washington society.

I spied Liz sitting at the table with a man, his back to me. I waved to her, and she waved back. When I got closer to the table I recognized the back of the man's head because I'd seen it so many times before. 

Roger.

Fuck.

"Hi, Evaline," said Liz.

Roger stood and gave me a peck on the cheek. 

"Hi, darling," he said.

"I thought you were supposed to be at Saint Barts?"

He shrugged. "Plans fell through. Want a drink?"

At least that was reliable.

"I'm sure you've drunk enough for both of us already."

"Now, now, darling. What can I get you?"

"Orange juice."

"Just orange juice?"

"Yes."

He smiled. "Liz, want a drink?"

"I'm good." He got up and walked inside.

Liz smiled at me. "You don't mind, do you? Roger is such good company."

I plastered a smile on my face. One of the results of losing eighty percent of the world's men was that one was not to notice when your husband stepped out on you. We were supposed to share, like good little girls. That doesn't mean I ever liked sharing. I just couldn't say a thing about it, especially not to my biggest client. 

I wondered if the situation was reversed, if men would be so generous. 

"Of course not, Liz. Roger and I haven't lived together in years."

"Oh?" she said. "He mentioned he saw you the other night."

Really? He talked about that?

"The yearly thing," I said casually.

"Oh. This isn't a conflict of interest?" 

Was she asking my permission?

"Because, you see, Evaline, I want a child."

Well, this was unusually honest.

"And Roger is willing?" I said. Disbelief must have crept into my voice because her expression changed to doubt.

"We haven't discussed it. Yet."

Meaning he hadn't fucked her. Yet. Good luck to that.

"Business is business, social activity is something else," I said. "There would only be a problem if I bought too much of your stock." 

Roger came back and set an orange juice in front of me.

"There you go, darling," he said. 

"Thank you, Roger."

He sat, his own drink in hand. His was orange juice too, with vodka, no doubt.

"What did I miss?" he said.

"Nothing important," I said. 

"Who are we waiting on?" said Liz. 

"I asked Lindsey to join us," I replied.

"Lindsey Talbot?"

"Yes, I thought it would be good to get to know her a bit before we moved into a business relationship." 

"Are you able to help her?"

"You know I can't talk about the case, but possibly, yes."

"Good," nodded Liz. "There's no one better."

Hmph. That was quite the endorsement, seeing that up to to a few days ago she was talking advice from a Harvard Law student. But then again, she intended to fuck my husband, so I supposed she thought it was politic to be nice to me. 

"There she is," said Liz, her face brightening as she waved over the pharma mogul. 

I twisted in my seat. 

"Who is that with her?" asked Liz.

Walking next to Lindsey was a young man that appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Another consequence of losing eighty percent of the world's men was that it was no longer a social stigma to date men younger than you. Just dating any man was a prize as long as he was of legal age. 

As they grew closer, he looked familiar. I couldn't place why as I hadn't met Jason Wells. Then it hit me. His face reminded me of Andrew's. I shook my head. Obviously, I had android-on-the-brain syndrome.

"Hello, Lindsey," said Liz. "This is Roger Shipley. And you spoke with Evaline, Friday."

"Oh, Evaline. Nice to put a face to the voice," she held out her hand and I shook it. "And Roger, nice to meet you. This is Jason Wells. Jason, Liz Carruthers, Roger Shipley and Evaline Shipley."

"Wait," Lindsey said. "Are you two related?" She pointed to Roger than me.

"Married," said Roger. 

"Guilty as charged," I said. "But Roger is Liz's guest today."

"Oh," she said. 

In point of fact, Roger shared my membership in the country club, one of the perks of marriage. But I said what I did with a reason. I wanted to see her reply to my next question. 

"Is Jason your guest?"

"Jason works for me. He is brilliant. I want him to meet new people."

"Jason needs no introduction. Jason, wasn't your mom Cicily Wells, from Androdyne?"

"Oh," said Lindsey brightening, "You have done your homework. Good. I'm glad we have this chance to get to know one another outside business before we get to work."

Liz's cell phone buzzed. "Sorry, got to look," said Liz. She frowned. "A text from my assistant. I have to swing by the office. You've got your four, so Roger, sweetheart, call me when you are done. I'll send the car around."

#

We paired up. Roger to Lindsey, me to Jason. But on the third tee, Roger flung his clubs into my golf cart. 

"Our balls are fairly close together," he grinned. "Jason, catch a ride with Liz, will 'ya."

"Sure," said Jason. "Meet you in a few."

"There's nothing about us that's close," I said after the young man walked over to Lindsey's cart. "Balls, or otherwise."

"You didn't say that the other night."

I ignored him.

"I went back to Rolfo's," he said, "for lunch. The Steak Au Poivre isn't as good as what I got at your house."

"Did you waste Liz's money on that, or mine?"

"Oh, good one," said Roger. "But then you've always been a clever girl."

There was a branch laying on the green from a nearby stand of trees. I ran over it, on purpose, making the cart lurch. 

"Hey!" he protested. "Watch the road. You'd think you've been drinking."

"Not a chance. I'm the sober one, remember?"

"Here's my ball," he announced. I stopped the cart. He hopped out and inspected it.

"Nope, that's yours."

I pulled the driver from my bag. "You sure that's my ball? I seem to remember it more to the left.

"Sure you haven't been drinking?" he said.

I walked to the ball and Roger grabbed my shoulders from behind and pulled me close to him.

"I've been thinking," he said. "Maybe I should move back in."

"You've got to be joking."

He gave me a kiss on the neck.

"Who knows? Maybe we stuck a bun in the Evie oven the other night."

"That's bad, even for you, Roger."

"You're right. I can work on the stuff I'm bad at, Evie. I can stop drinking. I'll control my spending, hell, I'll even give up the women."

This was feeling weird. This wasn't the Roger I knew and I didn't want to discuss this in an open place. I heard rustling in the bushes to the right, and I got spooked. 

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. "But not the men." 

"Hells, woman. Why are you so difficult? I want to give us a chance again."

"Where does this change of attitude come from, Roger?"

"I'm afraid for you, Evie," he said in a low voice. "I'm afraid of what that thing in your house will do. You know why we don't have them, right?"

"Yes, Roger," I sighed. It was no secret why sentient robots weren't allowed. While clever, they didn't, couldn't have the emotional attachments to humans that would keep them from being a danger. At a certain point they'd reason that humans were a danger to their survival. That is when they turned lethal.

"Yes," he said. "Despite Asimov, the logical contradictions in his three laws make them unworkable."

"Roger, I don't need a history or literature lesson. And I don't need a babysitter. Why don't you bunk with Liz? She tells me she's game. And she wants a baby."

"Play your ball," growled Roger.

So I did. 

#

At the next tee I made sure Jason rode with me again. There was a job to do and I best get to it. But Jason wasn't make it easy to talk to him.

"Nice shot," I said to Jason, who landed his ball on the putting green. 

"Thanks," he said, one of his many one word answers 

After I shot my ball to the green, we climbed into the cart. 

"So, how long have you worked for Lindsey?"

"Two years, since mom died."

"Sorry about your mom."

"Thanks."

We got to the green, and climbed out of the cart. 

"Is that why you left Androdyne?"

He face screwed up in a frown.

"Because your work is brilliant. I can't see why Androdyne would let you leave."

"It's a free country, isn't it?" 

"Yes."

"Besides, I worked with robots all my life. Since I could first sit, I fiddled with the things. It was time for a change."

"I recently bought an Andrew."

"Well, good for you," he said as he swung, and overshot the putt.

"Damn."

"His face looks a little like you."

He scoffed. "You mean he looks like my father. Mom modeled him after dad."

"Oh, that has to be weird," I said. After I lined up the long shot, and hit it, it rolled down the little slope. It sank into the cup. 

"Damn right," he said, annoyance in his voice. "Listen, what is this conversation about?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but your present employer and your old employer are about to to do legal battle over your work, Mr. Wells. So either we do this the easy way, or the hard way. I don't care which."

"You want to know if I stole Androdyne's legal property."

"To start."

"Well, keep wondering. I'm not telling you a damn thing." With that, the young man walked to his ball, and hit a chip in. This time the ball fell into the cup. 

#

Lindsey accompanied me to the shower. I cleaned up and changed my clothes. She sat on the bench, after changing herself, to slip on her shoes. 

"What you think of my boy, there," she said.

"It's hard form an opinion. He wasn't very friendly."

"Sorry, about that. I thought he'd talk to someone neutral. He's a bright kid, but he seems to have his issues."

"Kind of reminds me of someone I know," I said, more to myself.

"What?" she said.

"Nothing. I'll have to dig into his background. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. You know, he graduated MIT at eighteen. He should understand that you are only trying to help him."

"Do you have a few minutes? We can go to my office and take care of dotting the 'i's. Then I can proceed on your case."

"How about if I come to the office tomorrow morning on my way in?"

"Sure."

"How do you think this will end up?"

"I have more work to do before I can answer that. But trust me, I'll do everything I can for you."

"That's what Liz tells me. Thank you, Evaline."

"No problem," I replied. But what I wanted to tell her was not to thank me yet.

#

Roger rudely stood against my running town car. He smiled when he saw me. 

"How about giving me a ride," he said.

"I thought Liz would send her car."

"I'm a big boy. I don't need Liz carting me around."

"So, you ask your wife to bring you to your lover."

"Jesus, Evaline. You are pissy today. Isn't your pleasure 'bot taking care of you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Get in," I said. 

The driver shut the door.

"Where to?" I asked.

"How about your place?"

"That's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

"Okay, Roger, what is going on?"

He looked away.

"I got evicted."

"What? Roger! Not again. What was it this time?"

He shrugged. It was a little boy response to a big boy problem.

"I really should drop you off at Liz's."

Roger gave me an earnest look.

"I've had enough, Evaline. It is time I grew up."

I shook my head, looking out the window. Then I picked knocked on the privacy window and the driver opened it.

"The Crowne Plaza," I said.

"Which one?"

"Any of them."

"Evie!"

"Yes, ma'am." The window closed again. 

Roger leaned into me, and kissed my neck.

"Roger, don't."

"What ever happened to, 'Roger, yes?'"

"Many things. They all have names attached to them, names such as Caroline, Mary, Jessica. And I have no clue as to the men's names. Get the picture?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, sliding his kisses down my neck. He opened the top two buttons of my blouse, and stuck his tongue between my breasts.

"Roger, I'm not what you want," I said, though my fingers dug into the leather. 

"I've always had a thing for you, Evie, regardless." He unbuttoned a couple more of my buttons, and reached around to unsnap my bra. "That does happen. But I'm glad there are no secrets between us now. "

He lifted up my bra, and lowered his head to a nipple. He licked it first, and pulled away, watching as it hardened from his attentions and the cold air in the car. Roger sucked on it then, and my eyes closed, as a white pleasure creeped up my spine. 

"Stop," I said, though admittedly I barely breathed the word. 

His mouth covered the other nipple, and he sucked it in, laving it with his tongue as I squirmed in my seat. 

"You know what you were always good at?" he said.

"Yes," I whispered. 

He put my hand between his legs to show me his hardness there, and I swallowed. 

"When I think of that, that's what happens, Evie."

He unzipped my slack and slipped his fingers to my clit, make small circles around it.

"I know how sensitive you are there. It doesn't take much, does it, Evie, to make you cum."

With my nipple in his mouth, and my clit under his fingers, everything tingled, from the bottom to the top. My hips bucked under his hand, and he dipped his fingers lower to find my entrance slick. He pushed two fingers in.

"Ah."

"Oh, Evie," he breathed as his fingers explored my hole. "It feels so soft in there." His hand rocked back and forth, his fingers reaching in as far as they could, and I threw my head back, enjoying the rough intrusion in my most sensitive area. There was something so wicked about having a man's fingers reach up into you, scraping the tender walls. 

He moved hand faster, and clamped his lips on my tit again, this time sending a sharp spear of pain through it. He sucked harder then, and pushed me over the edge.

"Oh god," I gasped. It wasn't the strongest orgasm I ever had, but as it washed over me it was warm and relaxing. 

I opened my eyes, and found Roger smiling at me.

He put my hand on his hard crotch again. 

"Now, sweetie," he said. He unzipped his slacks, and pulled his slacks over his hips, his cock springing free. He half lay back, giving me easy access. I took the base of his cock with one hand and pulled the shaft between my index and middle finger, my thumb running up sensitive underside of the head. His breathing hitched.

"That's good, baby, but you know what's best."




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 06



I lowered my head, moved my hand, and sucked his cock in my mouth. 

"Yes. Evie, that is so good."

I ran my tongue around the head, and then took as much in as I could. 

"Fuck, yes."

Rather than just bob my head on his shaft, I moved my head up and around, twisting around his shaft.

"God, yes. Ah, I've missed that!" He pushed his cock into my mouth further, gripping my hair urging me to go faster. 

I gripped his tight balls with one hand, massaging them lightly.

"Ah, that's it. Yes. I'm coming, baby."

With that, Roger shot his cum down my throat. 

The car stopped.

"Shit," said Roger, breathing hard, scrambling to pull up his pants. 

I quickly snapped my bra in place, buttoned my shirt, and pulled up my pants. I barely got them zipped, when the driver opened the window a crack.

"The Crowne Plaza, ma'am."

"Thanks, pull off the parking lot. I need to finish talking with my husband."

"Yes, ma'am."

I opened a small door in the panel below the window with a bottle of whiskey I kept there.

"I need a drink," I said.

"Baby, you sure know how to make a man happy."

#

We settled Roger into the Crowne Plaza despite his protests. 

"I'm still worried about you," he said.

I didn't need Roger to kick up my fears about the illegal robot in my house. I still uncomfortable with what happened this morning. 

"I'll have Caroline do a search for a new place for you. In the meantime, don't get kicked out of here."

"Baby," he said.

"Don't 'baby' me, Roger. There is too much water under the bridge to keep it from sinking."

He gave me a peck on the cheek, and with a backwards puppy dog look, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked to the elevator. 

I shook my head. In a small corner of my heart, I felt guilty about what I did with Roger in the car because of Andrew. That was silly. He was my husband. Andrew was a 'bot. I shouldn't have conflicted emotions about a man and a thing. 

I blamed Roger for my current state of emotional unrest. It is so easy to blame my problems on him. Roger the miscreant, Roger the philanderer, Roger the drunk. 

Roger, the born-again husband.

But he was right. I'd gotten myself into a situation with an illegal robot. Nothing good could come of this.

And then I had a thought, and not a pleasant one. I pulled out my phone and called the private investigator.

"Tersa, you did a piss poor job on that report."

"I gave you what I could get in the time frame you requested," she said flatly. "But I was waiting for your call."

"Bitch," I said. Point of fact, Tersa and I went back to our Boston days and were good friends, despite the fact we ran in different circles.

"And I'll have you know I'm still on the clock."

"Whore," I said.

"Sweet talk will get you everything, slut."

"I sure hope so."

Her tone got serious. "What do you want me to focus on?"

"I want to know how Cicily Wells died."

"I've been working on that. People are closed mouthed about it, but from what I can gather she died in her lab. And the whispers are that an Andrew was responsible.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 07



Tersa's words rattled in my head. "An Andrew was responsible." What robot was that other than my Andrew, the one who spoke of Cicily intimately? I squelched my fears, and breezed into my apartment pretending nothing happened. Nothing as in I didn't give my husband a blowjob, and left him off at a hotel. 

"Hi, I'm home."

Nothing. 

I went to the kitchen where Andrew worked cutting vegetables. 

"Hi, Andrew."

He avoided my eyes. 

"Hello, Evaline."

"What's for dinner?"

"Pork chops."

"Sounds good."

He put carrots in a boiling pot on the stove. 

"Andrew? Is something wrong?"

"No," he said, his voice flat.

"Andrew, we had this conversation this morning. Tell me what is wrong."

He glanced up, and there was coldness in his eyes I hadn't seen before.

"You were with him."

A chill ran down my spine.

"I was with a couple 'hims', so what's the issue?"

"Roger!" he spat. "I heard you through your phone."

"My phone? You listened through my phone?"

"Yes, I rigged a signal through the GPS."

"What! How dare you!"

"How dare me! How dare you! You told me you lived separate lives."

"This is ridiculous. He's my husband!"

"So? You live with me."

"Correction, buddy, you live with me. This is my house, and you are my robot."

Andrew stood there, with knife in hand, his gaze so fierce that I suddenly feared for my life. Here was the moment about which Roger warned me, when a sentient robot turned on his owner. I shrieked, and ran from the kitchen. Things clattered in the kitchen. I dashed across the living room into my bedroom, and to my bathroom. Shaking, I slammed it shut, and turned the lock.

"Evaline! Come out of the bathroom!"

My heart pounded in my chest.

"Evaline!"

My back was against the door, so I jumped when the door bucked. Andrew hit the door again, attempting to force it open. 

Fuck.

"Evaline!" he called again, his robot voice eerily loud. "Open this door!"

What to do? I didn't have my phone. 

"Not until you calm down." What the hell was I saying? Even if he seemed perfectly calm he'd still be murderous. 

"I am calm," he said in a lowered voice. "I can't be anything but."

That is what frightened me most, being murdered in cold blood by a calmly homicidal robot.

"Open. The. Door."

I was breathing so fast I felt faint. I had to do something before I passed out. Then I remembered the safe phrase the saleswoman used at the store.

"Take five, Andrew!"

"What?" he roared. 

My heart wanted to leap out of my chest. The safe phrase was my last shot. 

"Take five, Andrew," I screamed. "Hell, take ten!"

Silence.

"Andrew?"

Nothing. 

With caution, I opened the door. Andrew stood there, eyes open, with a blank look on his face. I shivered. 

What was I going to do now?

Duct tape. Nothing got past that shit. That thought ran through my nerve-wracked brain. Slowly, I edged past Andrew fearful I'd tripped a sensor waking him. I got to the living room, and pulled my phone from my purse. 

"Sally. Yeah, Evaline in 2-B. Do you have any duct tape? Yes, duct tape. Yeah, bring everything you have. I'll pay you for it. Yes, thank you."

The super arrived a few minutes later carrying three rolls. I gave her a fifty-dollar bill. 

"Thanks, Ms. Shipley," said Sally.

"No, thank you."

"Is there something I can help you with?"

I didn't have a plan. The only thing I wanted to do right then was secure my crazy robot.

"Maybe later, Sally. I'll call you."

"Sure thing, Ms. Shipley."

I wrapped Andrew up, shoulder to ankle, row upon row of duct tape twisted around his body. I didn't cover his head or hands, just everything where clothes touched.

While I did so, I argued with him, though admittedly it was a one sided conversation.

"What is your problem? Why did you go off? You were getting too much. Evaline, no, you can't eat toast. Evaline, walk the treadmill for forty-five minutes. Evaline, bend over the couch."

Finally, as a precaution, I put a piece over his mouth.

I backed away from my handy work, clueless what to do next. I had to think. Sinking to my bed, I scooted backwards while I stared at the duct-taped encased Andrew. 

It wasn't possible to return him to the store. I signed that damned non-warranty agreement. And I couldn't, as other owners did, sell him to a sex house where he'd work out his life span servicing anonymous women. Even if I could do such a thing, which I wouldn't, Andrew's reluctance to have sex with other women, and his sentience would create noticeable problems. Eventually those problems would come back on me. 

"What the hell am I going to do with you?"

#

Exhausted, I fell asleep during the night, clothes on, as I stared at the 'bot. It wasn't a restful sleep, far from it. In my dreams Andrew was chasing me with a knife in his hand as he called my name. 

"Evaline!" 

I woke with a start, and sat bolt upright. Someone stood at the head of my bed, and I frantically switched on the light on my nightstand.

"Oh, Roger," I breathed.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked. 

"Andrew got out of hand," I replied. "And how did you get in here?"

"Your super, Sally. She had complaints of yelling in your apartment. She didn't want to call the police, in case, you were getting busy with the robot."

Hmph. 

"Remember, I am your emergency contact?"

"Yeah, I remember, Roger," I said as I slid off the bed. 

Roger walked over to Andrew, and circled him.

"Duct tape, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Kinky."

"This isn't funny!"

"I can see that. You did a thorough job, but then again you always are. What are you going to do?"

"Don't know. I can't return him."

"Why not?"

"I signed a non-warranty agreement."

"And you a lawyer."

"It was stupid." I looked at the clock. "And I have to get to work. Roger, stay here with him. Make sure he doesn't turn on, or anything."

"I don't know."

"Roger! It's the least you can do."

"Okay, Evie. What do I do if he wakes?"

"Say, 'Take ten, Andrew.' That's the safe phrase."

"Safe phrase?"

"The same as a safe word?"

"Kinky," he said. 

#

When I arrived at the office I had a surprise waiting. And it wasn't a good one. Caroline glanced up from her desk, and she looked scared.

"There are two women, from the RIB to see you, in your office."

"Fine," I said, acting nonchalant despite the acid churning in my stomach. I put on my best lawyer's face. "Keep my briefcase under your desk." 

Caroline nodded, her face pale, and took my briefcase. I entered my office.

The two women stood there, pretending they didn't try to open every locked drawer in my office. I kept no files in my office anyway.

"Ladies," I said. "I did not know the government worked this early in the morning."

Unimpressed with my humor, Agents Greene, and Pataski flashed their badges with grim faces. "Evaline Shipley," said Greene. She was shorter than me, the other taller, and both wore the same cheap blue suits every government field worker wore.

"That's me."

"You recently bought a pleasure bot," she opened a notebook, "serial number XB109856."

"I did, but I can't tell you the serial number."

"The name given is Andrew," she said.

"Yes, that is the name," I said pleasantly.

"Has your toybot acted in any way unusual?"

"What kind of question is that?" I asked. Indignation tinged my voice. 

"One that requires an answer."

"Are you implying that this pleasure bot is defective?"

"Possibly," she said. 

"So you are implying that I knowingly keep a defective bot despite the law?"

She stared at me.

"Because I assure you, you better have something to back up that claim with more than a question."

"So your bot isn't acting unusual? We got a report, Friday, from a Magda Adams that your robot acted in an unusual manner."

"Do you know any word but unusual?'' Listen, Magda is upset that I don't allow her to play with my 'bot. I won't let her. She has a horrible record of taking care of her own. Investigate that. You'll see it's true."

"Okay, Ms. Shipley," said the other agent. "We have to look into these things."

"I understand," I said more calmly. "Understand I have a lot riding here with this firm. I can't afford any scandal. Unfortunately, there are more than enough people who want to make trouble for lawyers. We aren't the most popular of people."

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Shipley," said agent two. "Can we call you if we have any more questions?"

"Of course. Call the office. My assistant will ring you through if I'm available."

They thanked me and left. I sunk to my chair at my desk, and put my head in my hands. I had to get rid of Andrew, because I couldn't afford to have a toybot ruin my life.

I'd get arrested if I turned him in at this late date. There wasn't a robot disposal company I could call. 

I had a goddamn sentient robot duct taped mummy fashion in my bedroom, and I had no clue what to do with him.

Caroline stuck her head in my office.

"Is everything okay, Evaline?"

"Yes, everything is fine."

"Really, because you look as if somebody died."

Hmph. That remark gave me an idea.

"But Evaline, Lindsey Talbot is here to see you. Do you want me to reschedule?"

"No. And type up a standard contract for services."

"Done. Just needs your signature. And I have her retainer."

"Did I ever tell you I love you?"

"Too many times to count, boss. But you know me, I'm married to my work."

#

Especially after the visit from the RIB, everyone noticed my edgy, and out of sorts attitude. Some even remarked that I looked tired. I agreed. More than tired, I was a mess. Barely brushing my hair, I threw on the first thing I pulled out of the closet, and my stomach rumbled during the partner's meeting. 

"Evaline and I reviewed our billable hours, and folks, let's say, some of these clients are not properly served." Tamara slid files to different partners, her mouth flapping about the need to blah, blah, blah.

In theory I agreed with her, but I wasn't interested. My mind wandered to the robot duct taped in the bedroom, alone with Roger. 

Tamara poked me in the side. "Any new business," she said glaring at me. I flubbed my big moment, when I announced our new client. 

"Um, yes, Tamara. We've pulled in Talbot Pharmaceuticals to defend them against their patent fight with toybot manufacturer Androdyne."

Murmurs ran around the table. This wasn't just high profile. If we succeeded we'd be nationally known.

Tamara clapped her hands, and then the rest of the partners joined in. I smiled somehow.

"And that," said Tamara putting too fine a point on this, "is why keeping in touch with clients is the backbone of our business. Liz Carruthers referred Lindsey Talbot to us. Good job, Evaline!"

But I didn't do a good job. I felt shitty, and it all had to do with that damned robot in my bedroom. 

#

I called Tersa, my PI friend, and told her I needed a biohazard body bag. Damn if she didn't show up at my door with it as soon as I got home. I didn't ask her in, and she handed the package to me. 

"Anyone I know?" she asked. "Did you finally off someone?"

"I'm disposing of some property, Tersa, and I don't want anyone to look inside. And the less you know the better. And Tersa, if you could arrange to have the bag transported to the morgue, I'd appreciate it."

"It's going to cost you, Evaline."

"I'm aware," I said. "It already has. I call you with details."

I shut the door on Tersa, and the real work began. That damn robot was heavy, and biohazard body bags aren't as easy to work with, as you'd imagine. These things had two layers to deal with the bottom edge of the inner bag a rounded corner instead of square. This did not lend itself to easily inserting a rigid and taped robot. 

Even with Roger's help, getting Andrew into the bag was a comedy of errors. First we laid him on the floor, and tried to roll him in, but his body was so stiff, we couldn't fit him in the slot. Both of us breathing hard, we hauled him up again, both of us nervous from handling him so much. I slid a corner of the bag on his head as his robot eyes stared forward. 

"For a guy that didn't eat, he sure packed on the pounds," complained Roger.

"You didn't complain the other night," I said.

"Funny," he replied. 

We laid him on the floor again, and pulled, and stretched the bag try to get his feet in. No luck. Then I got the bright idea of angling the bag under him. With Roger lifting Andrew's feet, I was able to slip the robot's feet in after a few tries.

"Hurry," Roger huffed, "I can't keep holding him."

"If you used that gym membership you make me buy for you every year, this wouldn't be so difficult."

"You're beautiful when you're bitchy."

"You've always been a sweet talker," I said as I zipped the clear inner layer. I hesitated to put the final layer over him, staring at Andrew's eerily opened blue eyes. 

"Come on, Evaline. That thing gives me the creeps."

"Ssh, what if he still can hear you?"

"What do you care? That thing tried to kill you. Or are you forgetting that?"

"Roger, we all have our sins. Look at you. You broke my heart many times, and I haven't put you in a body bag."

He rolled his eyes. "I applaud your restraint."

To get Andrew out of my condo, I called for my car. I told the driver to pull into the second-level parking garage, and told her to take a fifteen-minute break. 

"Are you sure, Ms. Shipley," she said.

"Yes, take a walk around the building or something. I'll be ready to go when you return."

"Yes, Ms. Shipley."

When the driver entered the elevator to go downstairs, I opened the trunk of the car from a button at the driver's dashboard. Then I accessed the door to my floor. The entrance to my apartment was a few feet away. Roger had the door open, looking for me.  

"Come on," I said to Roger 

"You've got to help me," said Roger. 

As I shook my head, I propped open the door, and grabbed the handholds of the bag on one side. We hefted the body bag, and half dragged, half carried Andrew through the hall, and into the trunk of the limo. 

"Do me a favor," said Roger. "Next time, get your robot lover to climb in the trunk himself before you use the safe phrase."

#

Roger knew of a cheap hotel where the manager would take cash to keep his mouth shut. After paying the manager a bunch of cash, we dumped Andrew, encased in black plastic, on the bed. 

I have to give Roger credit. He played the part of the bereaved nephew very well. He walked to the hotel desk, asked to see his uncle, and the drama played out. 

The morgue transport arrived, which cost me a small fortune. They carted the 'body' away, and then shipped it to the funeral home, which cost me another small fortune. I promised God that if I got out of this with my reputation intact, I wouldn't do anything bad again. 

Three days later, Roger and I sat waiting for the 'funeral' to begin at the gravesite. I ordered flowers. They looked very pretty arranged on the top-of-line casket. 

"This is ridiculous," complained Roger. "I can't believe you are doing all this for a robot."

A chill breeze blew, flapping the edges of the funeral home's green canopy over us. I shivered and pulled my jacket up to my neck.

"Ssh," I said. "You didn't know your 'uncle' the way I did."

"Oh, I believe I so."

"Funny."

The minister arrived, and we stood, and shook her hand.

"Sorry for your loss."

"We weren't close," said Roger. "He spent many years in Africa, doing missionary work. He loved doing missionary things."

Smart ass. I gave him a kick in the ankle for that remark. He winced. 

"Unfortunately," he continued. "We didn't know he was sick when he returned home."

"That's too bad. But he sounds as if he was a good man, a man of God."

"Oh, he knew how to bring Heaven to Earth, all right," said Roger. "People sang his praises all through the night."

My foot jabbed him, harder this time, in the ankle.

"Ouch," he complained.

"Are you okay, darling?"

"Muscle cramp."

"Well, shall we get started? And his name was Andrew Shipley, right?"

"Yes," I said. I sniffed. And then something did grip my heart, and tears rolled down my cheek.

The minister took my hand.

"He's in a better place, dear. With the God he loved, and served. I'm sure the angels are singing joyful refrains upon his return home."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

We sat and Roger leaned over to me. "Aren't you going a overboard?"

"Shut up."

#

"Use me, and dump me," complained Roger as I dropped him back at his hotel. 

"I'm not in the mood," I said. 

"That's my line," he said. 

"Yeah, you used it enough, when we were together."

"Evie, I meant it when I said I wanted another shot."

"I need to think," I said. "Call me in a few days."

"Okay. But don't buy any more toybots."

I gave him a faint smile. "Don't worry. I've learned my lesson. And thanks, Roger. You helped a lot."

He gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then shivered. 

"Feels like snow's coming," he said scrunching up his shoulders. Then he walked into the hotel. 

As my car drove away, I took out the whiskey, and not finding any clean glasses, drank it straight from the bottle. Though it burned on the way to my stomach, my heart ached more. I felt someone did die.

But no one did. He was only a robot. Hell, he wasn't even a he. He was a thing.

An adorable, fuckable thing. My thing. My robot. My Andrew. 

"Andrew," I sobbed even as I swigged more whiskey. But there wasn't enough of that liquor to cure me of what ailed me.

Fuck me. 

I was so screwed.

#

It was dark when I got home. There were no smells of cooking food, or the masculine sounds of "Hello, Evaline," or someone to take my coat, and fuss over me. 

I wandered into the kitchen, and picked up my chef's knife on the floor. Andrew must have dropped it. Smelling something awful at the stove, I saw the pot where the carrots cooked a blackened mess. Well, at least Roger turned over the gas. I threw the pot, whole in the trash. In the next instant I found a rock hard pork chop, and baked potato in the oven. Half-heartedly, I opened the refrigerator. There was a slice of brownie cake, wrapped in plastic on a plate.

"What the hell," I said taking the plate. I found whipped cream in the fridge too, and sprayed that on. The whipped cream reminded me of a scene in the old movie "Practical Magic." In this scene the two sister witches used whipped cream as part of a spell to bring back one sister's lover back from the dead. The reason he was dead? They accidentally killed him. Yeah, whipped cream, the preferred dairy product of betrayal. 

I stood at the counter, and shoveled the brownie cake in my mouth. Quickly I lost the taste for it. Turns out chocolate doesn't mesh well with whiskey, which was burning through my gut right now. Suddenly, I lost both the whiskey, and the cake in a gush in my kitchen sink.

Note to self: Buy better whiskey.

Exhausted, I didn't have the energy to call for a meal delivery, so I decided to go bed. 

I dropped to the bed, not even taking off my clothes. 

There was no one here to pull the blankets over me, or sit on the edge of my bed. I'd cry, but I didn't have the energy for it. I didn't even have the energy to sleep.

I opened the drawer of my nightstand, and fished for a sleep-aid there, my hand groping the different items. My fingers hit a larger thing that rustled when I touched it. I drew it out, and turned on the light. It was a brown paper bag. 

Andrew's bag. 

When I first asked him what the bag held, he told me in his robot voice 'enhancements.' 

The largest item was an unmarked tube. I opened it, and sniffed recognizing the aroma as Andrew's ejaculate. Tears fogged my eyes again as I lay the tube on the nightstand. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 07



I pulled the next items. My hands felt cardboard.

They were not.

I stared at the pictures of Cicily, and Jason Wells. The photos were from different points of their lives. Cicily holding Jason as a baby, as a young child, at the airport with a backpack on Jason's shoulders. And other pictures of Jason; Jason playing with building blocks, holding a baseball bat, sitting at a computer. The last picture was of Andrew, and Jason. Jason was giving Andrew a hug.

Shit. Family photos. 

Andrew had a family.

#

I finally found the sleep-aid, and jammed the capsules in my mouth without water. As my lids grew heavy, in the haze between wakefulness and sleep, I swore I heard the robot's voice. 

"Go to sleep, Evaline, you have busy day tomorrow."

My eyes closed. 

"It's okay, Evaline. I'm sorry, so very sorry. I shouldn't have frightened you. You should know I'd never hurt you."

I smiled at Andrew. We stood under some trees. "It doesn't matter. You are here now." I reached out, took his hand, and then wrapped my arms around him.

"But it does matter, Evaline. Something happened, something is wrong with me." 

"Ssh, ssh," I said not wanting to waste this moment. I touched my lips to his, his marvelous robot lips, and teased his soft, and flexible tongue with mine. 

"Make love to me, Andrew."

"Love? We can have sex. Do you want sex, Evaline?"

"What difference does it make? If feels the same to me. What you do feels like love."

"Evaline, Evaline," he said pulling my head to his chest. "I do not know what love is."

"Yes, you do. You show it to me each day, and in each thing you do for me, how you care for me."

"That's programming," he said.

"Can't be. You could serve me hamburger for dinner, but you feed me with Steak Au Poivre. You could buy a cake from a bakery, but you make me brownie cake. You could do a hundred things differently, but you always put in an extra effort. To make me happy. That's love, Andrew.

"Love is when you make an extra effort?"

"That's as good as definition as any."

"Let me show you some extra effort then."

He sank to his knees, facing my hips. Gently he unbuttoned my slacks; unzips, and then slips them off my legs. He kissed my mound, and slipped his tongue in between my folds. His eager tongue met my flesh in long, slow licks, seeking to reach in as far as he could. His warmth lights a fire between be legs as he pulls a leg over his shoulder. 

My hands curl in his hair, grabbing fistfuls to support me as he slides, burying his face into my clit. I jumped when he put his mouth around, and sucked. The jolt from touching that sensitive button was too much. Yet, when he pulled away, I yearned for that sensation again. 

Andrew clenched my ass, and then pulled his hands to the place where my butt meets my legs. He massages that sensitive area while he moves his tongue to my center, flicking his tongue, burying his nose in my clit. It is my fire that pushes my hips seeking the warmth, and pressure of Andrew's tongue. The electricity of his touch ignites my clit, sending pleasure through my body. He presses harder, urging me with his hands to ride his face, and he spears me with his tongue. My back arches, I clutch his hair, and rock my pussy as he holds me. I break apart s waves of heat crashed through my body.

With a panting breath, I shot upright in my bed, finding not Andrew between my legs, but my own hands. I fell backward into my pillows knowing I would be damned to this fate. Night after night I would lust after a thing I could not have. A frustrated cry escaped my lips while tears slid down my cheeks.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 08



A light snow fell the next day. The day after a more vicious manifestation of an east coast winter left four inches on the ground. For an entire day the snow clung to the trees before the sun melted it. People remarked that it was pretty. I thought the snow matched the frost in my heart. 

It was the only way to survive, to shut down my emotions. I couldn't bear the pain, and I berated myself for feeling it in the first place. I kept telling myself that I had to do it, that it was the best thing, the only way to save my life. I reminded myself over and over that the robot was a thing, not a person. I didn't believe a bit of it, but pretended I did. It was the only way to get through the day. It was now Friday, two days since I lowered Andrew into the ground. 

Right now I was sitting in the conference room, across from Jason Wells. The young man was unhappy to be here. I asked him if he would tell the truth, he said yes, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice. 

I had to do this. The pictures Andrew kept haunted me. And something was very odd about Jason Wells and his relationship with Androdyne. I couldn't get copies of his non-compete agreement, and they wouldn't acknowledge him as a former employee. 

"Jason, how long did you work at Androdyne?"

"Technically, I never worked for them at all."

Surprised, I tapped my pen against my notepad. 

"You didn't?"

"I told you I practically grew up at Androdyne."

"You didn't tell me that," I said.

"I told you that since I could sit, I fiddled with the robots. As a child I spent more time in my mother's lab than my own bedroom."

"So you did. You are telling me, then, that you never collected a paycheck?"

"Nope."

"Or received monetary renumeration for anything you did?"

"Nope, we were one big happy family."

The way he said 'happy' implied that they weren't.

"So how did you get your name on the patent for biologic skin?"

"I developed it. It was a project for a high school biology class. When Sinta saw it, she got very excited. She encouraged me to work on it in the lab, gave me my own lab to do it. For a fourteen-year-old kid, that was huge. It made me feel very important."

"Sinta? What about your mother?"

"She was good with it, as long as it kept me out of her hair."

"That sounds harsh."

"She was a busy woman. The Andrews took up all of her time."

I wondered about that. That must have sucked that his mother found robots more interesting than her own brilliant son.

"Tell me about your mother's work with the Andrews."

He looked at his cell phone. "Can't," he said without looking up. 

"Can't?"

"I'm under a confidentiality agreement that I signed before I went to work for Talbot Pharmaceuticals."

"I'd like to see that agreement."

"I'll ask Sinta to send it over."

"You will?"

"She takes my calls," he said. 

"What the fuck is going on here, Jason?" I snapped. "Why are you so friendly with the people that are suing your employers?"

Jason leveled his gaze. 

"Why the hell wouldn't I be? Sinta is like family to me, just about the only family I have left. Just because I didn't want to play with 'bots for the rest of my life doesn't change that! Now if you'll excuse me, I've had enough of your questions."

Wells left in a huff, and I sat there in the conference room staring after him. What the fuck was going on?

#

"Ms. Shipley," said Caroline, in her most efficient 'I'm the gatekeeper voice', "your husband is here to see you."

I'd avoided Roger's calls all week, since that day I last saw him. 

"Tell him I'm busy," I said, knowing that Roger listened to what I said since she was on speakerphone.

"Goddammit," said Roger in the background.

I typed something in my instant messenger window to her.

"Did you find him a new apartment," I wrote.

"Yes, he moved in yesterday," she replied. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Shipley, I have to answer this call. Yes, Ms. Carruthers, I'll ring you through. There was more swearing from Roger.

"Liz—" said Caroline. 

"I know."

"Hello, Liz. I didn't expect—"

"This isn't business, Evaline. Sorry to call. But if you see Roger, please have him get in touch with me."

"Liz, I'm sorry, but I don't get involved with my husband's social life. I hope you understand."

"Yes, of course, it's just that, well, I have to talk with him."

"Of course, Liz, if he gets in touch, I'll tell him you called." I clicked off the call more than a little annoyed that Liz was using her relationship with me to contact my husband. I made sent a message to Caroline to make this a billable hour. 

Just then my door flung open.

"Roger, what the hell!"

"Why are you ducking me?"

"I'm not avoiding you. I've been busy."

He scrubbed his face with his hands. "Geez, this is such a mess."

"Come in, shut the door, and tell me what's bothering you."

He shut the door, then went to my bar, and poured himself a generous amount of whiskey. He drank it straight down. I typed in a note to Caroline to get another bottle.

Roger fell into one of the chairs in front of my desk. 

"Evaline, I'm sorry."

"What did you do now? Did you get kicked out of your new place already."

He glowered at me.

"No, that's not it. But it's a huge mess, and it has to do with that robot of yours."

"You're not making sense."

Roger looked down. "I didn't make it to Saint Barts because I got arrested."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Evie, listen. I got clipped in a men's room. Get it?"

"Oh, Roger," I sighed. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't call me."

"All I thought at the time was that I really messed things up. The scandal would affect your firm. The government agents said that they'd make it all go away, if I got them information. And I thought if it was only information-"

I cut him short. "What kind of information?"

"About Lindsey Talbot and Jason Wells."

"Wait," I said counting back the days, "I hadn't even met them then."

"They seemed to think you would."

"Wait? What?"

"It seemed like a long shot to me, but Evaline," he said leaning forward with an earnest look on his face. "I've found since that people have been watching the two of them since Jason left Androdyne to work for her."

"How did you find that out?"

"The government agents let some things slip when they interrogated me."

"For two years they've been tracking Jason?"

"Apparently. Saturday, the day before I met you at the country club, they pulled me again in to see what I found. When I said nothing, they got me evicted, telling me to go live with you to find out."

"Shit." I sat there, mind boggled, trying to trace the intricacies of the conspiracy running around me. This was the kind of black hat operation that kept conspiracy theorists up at night. 

"All this. Before we buried Andrew?"

"Yes, and Evaline, Liz is working with them. I don't know what they have on her, but it must be deep. She was too frightened to talk about it."

"Fuck. And that's why you've been avoiding her?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you come to me with this earlier."

"I've tried. You wouldn't take my calls."

He was right. I had my head so far up my ass about Andrew, I ignored Roger even when normally he wouldn't bother to call me that often.

"So, Roger. How deep is this shit that you finally came clean."

"Evaline, they pulled me again after that cluster fuck of a funeral, and threatened to arrest you if I couldn't get them the information they wanted. Since I wouldn't talk, I suspect they will do just that to find out what you know about Androdyne."

Fuck. I needed some answers.

"Roger, it's time to make yourself scarce."

"Is it time for the safe?" said Roger.

"Yes, Roger. It's time to open the safe."

#

I asked Caroline run Roger's arrest record, and found, curiously that his last arrest didn't show on the records. 

"But they said-"Roger protested.

"I'm sure they did. And don't think that it can't get dropped into the record when they want. But right now, your passport is clear, so we are going to get you out of the country.

"Please, Evie. Let me help."

"This will help, trust me."

I called Tersa, and filled her in.

"I need you to take Roger down to Florida, and get him on a nice cruise ship."

"Is this legal?"

"Yes, perfectly legal, right now."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. 

"But certain people are using my husband to get to me, and I can't have that, so I imagine there will be some excitement along the way."

"Oh," she said brightening. "Good. Where do I pick him up?" 

"Here, at my office in the parking garage. Fifteen minutes."

"It's gonna cost you."

I sighed. "Yes, I know."

#

I announced rather loudly to Caroline that I was going to lunch with my husband. I hoped whoever was planted to watch me would hear me. At this point I was sure there was a spy in my office. 

Roger and I walked down several flights of stairs to get entrance to the walkway that took us to the garage. When I opened the door to the garage Tersa's red car was waiting there running, and waiting. 

I slipped Roger a black credit card.

"There's no limit and it can't be traced directly to me."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, I'm a good Girl Scout."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really, because 'be prepared' is the Boy Scout motto. 

"Well, we took that too when we took over the world."

He gave me a kiss.

"Be safe, Evie."

"Wait, give me your hat and coat."

"My hat and coat, why? It's fucking cold out here."

"You'll be in a nice warm car and in Florida by tomorrow morning, so you won't need it. Give it."

Shaking his head, he shrugged over the gray wool overcoat and felt fedora and handed them to me. 

I looked through the pockets of his coat, and handed him was in there, including the black credit card.

"Be careful with this," I hissed.

"Okay," he said annoyed. "I didn't think you'd steal my coat."

I almost made a remark about not being able to steal what I paid for, but time was getting short. 

"You'll know when to call me. Until then, don't. And Roger, should this not work, keep your damn mouth shut and call your lawyer."

"Okay, love. Bye."

With a wave, Tersa drove away with Roger in the back seat. I saw Roger slide down in the seat to hide. I wonder if Tersa would make him sit that way the whole distance to Florida. 

It would serve him right, traitorous bastard. 

I waited. In a couple minutes my limo arrived and I was off on the second part of my mission. I needed to meet with my lawyer.

At least, I hoped she'd take my case. 

#

I made the driver pull into the garage of Betty's office building. With my scarf wrapped around my head, and wearing sun glasses from my purse, I thought I looked chic and mysterious at the same time. If me, my career and my firm weren't in so much trouble, I'd enjoy this. The the old juice from when me, and my girls ran the streets of Boston, avoiding the law, ran through me. 

Betty's secretary didn't know what to make of me with the get-up on my head and my expensive camel hair coat. 

"And you would be?"

"Evie Rimes," I said.

"I'll see what I can do. She's very busy."

She would be. Betty was a successful criminal lawyer. The secretary was surprised when Betty told her to send me in.

Betty looked me up and down.

"What shit have you gotten into this time, Evaline?"

"Shortly, I will be arrested on false charges, and they'll probably be federal ones. I'll need lawyer to bail me out."

I set a bag on the table with the money I took out of my office safe.

"This should cover your fee and the bail money."

Betty looked in the bag. 

"Jesus, Evaline. What are you going to be arrested for?"

"Not quite sure how they will play it."

"They?"

"The RIB."

"Shit, Evaline."

"Yes, I know."

"Were did you get all this cash?" she said amazed.

"I'm very good at saving money. A little here, a little there."

In fact, it was why my condo when I could have purchased something three times its value. It gave me the ability to draw a grand of week from the bank for "spending money" that I socked into the safe. I've done this since I became managing partner, for the past five years. I had a quarter million squirreled away in that safe. A hundred and fifty thousand was in the bag in front of Betty.

"Gee," she said sarcasm dripping her voice, "do you think it will be enough?"

"I can't imagine getting a bail amount more than a million dollars for my first offense," I said. "Otherwise you're a pretty sucky lawyer."

"Hmph," said Betty. " My billable hours rise even as we speak."

"Go ahead. I need you on this. If you don't get a call from me every twenty-four hours on the dot file a writ of habeas corpus as soon as I miss contacting you. 

"Shit's that serious?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

I waited an hour or so in Betty's office to give Roger and Tersa time to get out of Washington. Looking at my phone clock, I figured they'd be Virginia by now, so I left Betty's office and got back in my car. Hopefully I managed convince whoever was following me that Roger was still with me, and that we'd just visited a criminal lawyer. 

"Where to now?" said the driver.

Hmm. Just where does one go to be arrested for harboring a sentient robot?

"The Washington Crowne Plaza, the one downtown."

#

I had the driver park in the garage again.

"Here's five grand," I said. "Go rent a room for a night. Keep the rest for yourself."

"A room? Any room? There's a convention here."

It was toward the end of the week, so I had to imagine that a few rooms opened up by now. 

"See the manager, and give her a grand off the top. She'll get you a room."

"She will?" The driver sounded doubtful. 

"Yes. And then bring the key right back. And if anyone asks questions, you don't know a thing, got it?"

"Got it."

"After that, take a nice dinner, then come back here and wait for me."

"All night?"

"No, I'm not sleeping in the room. I just want people to think I'm sleeping in the room."

"This aint' nothing illegal is it?" she said. 

I sighed. I paid enough to this limo service where anything I asked shouldn't be questioned. 

"No. I'm just playing a little joke on some friends. Now go."

"Yes, ma'am."

It took about thirty minutes before the driver returned with the room key. 

"Now enjoy a nice dinner here. Later."

"Yes, ma'am."

I took Roger's coat and hat, and walked into the hotel.

#

The Crowne was like any other hotel, with a wide, broad lobby with a long front desk against the further wall. To the left was a bank of elevators. To the right sat the restaurant, and a hallway that led to the conference rooms. 

Manned at the entrance of the conference rooms stood a long banquet table dressed with a white table skirt. The woman looked bored. 

"I'd like two of those passes where I can visit the pleasure 'bots." I said, trying to maintain the cover Roger was with me. 

She frowned. "Those passes only come with the full week conference package."

"Okay." I said.

"Okay? Ma'am, that's a thousand dollars apiece."

I slapped twenty one hundred dollar bills in front of her.

"You take cash, don't you?"

Her eyes widened, but she handed me two envelopes that said across the front, VIP.

Yep, that's me. Very Important Person-waiting-to-get-arrested.

#

From one of the envelops I took out the bracelet that allowed me entrance to the pleasure 'bot rooms. I looked for and found Androdyne's room. It wasn't hard. It was the largest in the convention.

Cubicles of different sizes with light-blocking holodoors sliced up the room. Smaller ones sat on the side while a bigger one stretched across the back. While the holodoors blocked light they didn't block sound, and I heard the moans of a couple different women. 

A perky service 'bot greeted me at the door. 

"What can I do for you, miss?

"Do you have the latest Andrews?"

"Yes, miss. Fresh off the assembly line."

"Good, I'd like to see one."

"Right this way. You can pick the one you want."

She led me to the makeshift room in the back, where a line of five Andrews sat posed on a couch against the wall.

"Andrews, say hello to our guest," said the service 'bot.

"Hello, darling," they said in unison. 

"I'll leave you alone to make your selection," she said. The 'bot turned smartly.

"Hello, Andrews. Please stand."

"Sure darling," they said. 

All five of the 'bots stood. I put down Roger's coat and hat on a chair, and walked over to them.

I looked over each carefully. While superficially they all appeared to be like my Andrew, there was something different. I touched the penis of one of the 'bots. It did not have the soft skin of my Andrew. 

"Do you want sex?" the 'bot asked.

I shivered. The sound of his voice was identical to my Andrew's.

"What if I wanted to please you?" I said.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand your question."

"Can I please you in sex, Andrew?"

"I'm sorry. I don't understand the question."

I stood there thinking. Unlike my Andrew, this 'bot lacked the capacity to analyze my questions and synthesize an answer. 

"I'm programmed to give you pleasure," said the Andrew. "Can I give you pleasure, Mistress?" He reached his hand out to touch my breast. 

"Can I give you pleasure, Mistress?" the other 'bots repeated.

"Do you want to get to know me?" I said.

"I can give you pleasure, Mistress," said the Andrew.

"How would you give me pleasure? How do you know what pleases me?"

"Are you asking about technical specifications?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I'm not programmed to give that information."

The Andrew leaned in and tweaked my breast and I gasped. 

"Do you enjoy this?" he said.

"Yes."

He pulled up my shirt, and pressed his hands to my breasts. Unlike my Andrew, however, his face didn't display enjoyment.

"And this?" he said.

"Yes."

Another Andrew closest to me pressed his hands against my ass.

"Do you like this, mistress?" he asked.

I swallowed. "Yes."

He slid my skirt up over my ass and rubbed his hand along my crack.

"Does that give you pleasure, Mistress?" said the backside Andrew.

"Yes."

The Andrew at my front slid his hand to my mound, making soft circles with his fingers. 

He moved his fingers down seeking the folds of my pussy. 

"Does that feel good?" he asked again.

"Um, yes."

"You are wet," he said. "Aroused."

"Yes."

He push his finger up into my slit.

"Ah."

The backside Andrew leaned over and picked up something from the table by the couch. Something cool and gel-like hit my back hole. His finger ran circles around my rosebud. Then he pushed in. 

The front Andrew added a second finger, and pushed in while the backside Andrew pulled his finger out. They fell into this alternating rhythm while I squirmed on their fingers. 

The backside Andrew bent over again, and I heard a curious snapping. I turned my head and saw him roll a condom on his phallus. The other Andrew turned my head back to him and had me watch him roll a condom on his. 

Condoms were outlawed, as was any birth control.

"Aren't those illegal?'

"The company has a special permit. It's a health requirement for this convention to protect you. Do not worry about it. It's well lubricated."

"I'm not worried, but, ahhh."

More gel slid down my crack, and the back-endAndrew pressed into my hole. As he pushed, the forward Andrew pulled my panties farther to one side. He slid his arms under my arms, and bent a knee between my legs. With that he angled his phallus toward my pussy. He pushed, holding me up. My head fell forward on his shoulder as the back end Andrew pushed and gained entrance gripping my hips. The two pleasure 'bots pushed and pulled me between them like a rag doll. 

With tingles of pleasure in both holes, my excitement quickly rose. I begged them to fuck me harder, and like the good pleasure 'bots they were, they complied. Cradled between their robotically strong arms, I was lost in the rising heat of our fucking. Rocked between the two 'bot I exploded. I muffled my cries in the forward Andrew's shoulder. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 08



A knock sounded from outside of the cubicle. 

"Excuse me. Have you made your choice? There are others waiting."

Shit.

"Let's put me together, boys," I whispered.

"Yes, Mistress," they said. 

"Um, just a minute. Almost made my choice."

The Andrews quickly put my clothing in the proper places and I put my coat on again. 

"Clean up and then sit," I told them. They took off their condoms and pulled out disinfecting wipes from a drawer in the end table by the couch. Obediently they all sat on the couch.

"You," I said to the forward Andrew, "Come with me."

"Yes, Mistress," he said. He stood once more. 

There was more urgent knocking at the holodoor.

"Yes, yes." I picked up Roger's coat, hat and the two envelopes off the chair where I dumped them. I hit the button that dissolved the holodoor. 

"This one," I said. "I'll take him to my hotel room."

"Very good, Miss. I'll need proof you have a room."

"Yes, of course. Here is my hotel key."

She inserted the key into a tablet she held. The screen winked blue twice, then green, with the words 'room validated' across it. 

"Great! We'll pick up Andrew in an hour at room 334."

"An hour. Thank you for your help."

The service 'bot smiled brightly. "Oh, no problem. Thank you for choosing Androdyne. We're sure you'll enjoy the Androdyne experience."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 09



As soon as we walked away from the Androdyne demonstration room, I ordered the robot to put on Roger's coat and hat. I pulled the hat over his face.

"Let's play a game. I'm will call you Roger. When I call you by that name you will make an appropriate response."

"Do you want sex, Mistress?" the robot replied. 

"Okay, say nothing."

The robot nodded his head, now forbidden to speak. 

I linked my arm to his, and make sure I walked on his left side. With my body to the crowd of people in the hotel lobby, I hid his lack of slacks and shoes. I maneuvered him through the lobby and into the elevators. We rode to the third floor, and after finding room 334, opened the door, and led him inside.

"Sit on the bed, Andrew."

He did, and I sat next to him. I took off his hat, and looked into his face. It held no nuance of expression, no natural looking smile, frown or warmth in his eyes. I learned much this afternoon. Most of Andrew's sexual responses came not from programming but his marvelously sentient brain. 

I raised my hand to this Andrew's head and ran my fingers through his hair, and sighed.

The robot leaned forward to kiss me, but I pushed him back.

"No," I said. "I do not want sex."

The Andrew straightened and rigidly sat on the edge of the bed. 

I wanted to buy more time for Roger and Tersa. I checked my phone again for the time. They should be halfway through Virginia by now. 

Suddenly, energy drained from my body. I needed sleep. 

"Take off the coat and hat, and lay next to me, Andrew. When they come to get you, don't wake me, just leave with them."

He nodded his head.

With the robot next to me, I snuggled into him. He was a poor substitute for my Andrew, but the only one I had. 

#

I woke when my phone range. The Andrew had left. The displayed both the time, 8 am, and the caller, Caroline.

"Evaline, Sinta Grant faxed over Jason Well's confidentiality agreement overnight. You'll never guess who drew it up."

"Well?" 

"Our own founding partner, Amanda Connors."

I clicked off the call, and fell back into the pillows of the bed. 

I hope Roger and Tersa got good head start. They should be at the top of Florida now, and in another five hours in Miami. 

I got up, and picked up Roger's hat and coat and walked back through the hotel to the parking garage. My limo stilled waited on me. When I got in, I rapped on the privacy glass. A different driver opened the window. The company must have swapped out drivers at the end of the other driver's shift. 

"Driver, we're going to Alexandria. Here is the address."

No person has screwed me as badly as the person I was on my way to visit. 

#

Like many of us, I counted myself the brightest crayon in the box. Like many of us, I was wrong. I shook my head as the different angles fell one by one into place. 

Maybe I'm not as sharp as I thought because I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that Amanda Connors used me. While we drove I assigned players to each of the teams. Team Androdyne consisted of Sinta Grant, Jason Wells, and my partner Amanda Connor. Team Evil Black Hats comprised the RIB. My client Liz Carruthers, and my husband played supporting roles for them. 

This left Lindsey Talbot unassigned. Was Lindsey a convenient pawn or player with an ulterior motive? 

I hoped to get answers from Amanda. 

Amanda's house sat at the end a long gravel drive surrounded by woods. The drive ended at a circle that came to the front door of an ancient brick colonial. Bright green shutters graced the sides of each of the windows, two on each side of the door, and four on the second floor. My feet crunched the gravel underneath. I climbed the four brownstone steps that took me to the front door. 

A housebot, an old T-8 model answered the door. Neither male nor female in design, it wore no clothes. It was a household appliance.

"Come inside, Ms. Shipley," the 'bot droned. "You are expected."

"Thank you," I said. The 'bot walked me towards the back of the house down a long hallway that sported an antique oriental runner. Shortly I entered a large space, added to the original design of the ancient colonial. A lit fireplace blazed warmly in the wall on the left. A couch, and two high back padded chairs sat before it. Straight ahead a tiled window stretched floor to ceiling, inset with a French doors to the right. Beyond the window stretched an elaborate garden. A long antique mahogany divan occupied the front of the window. Such antiques were rare and expensive, especially since humanity depleted most of the world's rare woods. 

I walked to the divan to study the old style holo-photos that lined the top. Not unexpectedly I spotted a picture of Sinta Grant, Cicily Wells and Amanda, fresh-faced university girls, with their arms around each other, smiling for the camera. 

The French doors opened, and Amanda Connor stepped into the room. In her late fifties, her blonde hair was cut in a precise bob. Her bright blue eyes were unadorned by make-up. Her pricey beige sweater and expensive camel hair slacks were timelessly elegant. Amanda represented the epitome of the upper social class that bred her. 

My head jerked up when I saw the robot behind her. The robot that walked behind her fooled my heart. He was an Andrew, not my Andrew. No spattering of gray hair graced his temples, and he stood completely naked.

Naked robots were a theme in this house. 

"Hello, Evaline, darling. How sweet of you to visit."

I wanted to tell her to cut the crap, but we were playing civil now, and I thought it best to keep things that way. 

"Hello, Amanda. You are looking well."

"I can't say the same for you. Can I offer you a drink?"

"No, thanks."

She moved over to the couch.

"Well, let's sit then."

I sat on one of the padded chairs while she settled on the couch. 

"Tee," she said. "Bring us tea."

"Yes, Mistress," replied the T-8.

"You have good help," I said.

"Yes, I do find the older models to be extremely reliable. And they are easier to repair. So many of the new 'bots have too many electronic components."

"How long have you had your Andrew?" I said.

She smiled. "He's from the first generation."

"Gee, twenty-years. And he doesn't look a day over two."

Instead of taking offense, she chuckled.

The T-8 brought in the tea and cookies on a tray, and in slow increments lowered it to the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Very good, Tee," said Amanda with a smile. "You didn't spill a drop. You may recharge now."

I forgot that the older robots needed frequent recharging.

"Thank you, Mistress," said the T-8.

Amanda poured the tea, and I did a slow burn. 

"This isn't a social call, Amanda. I have bad news that will reflect badly on the firm. The authorities will arrest me soon."

"Yes," she said, almost a hum. "I know." She handed me a cup of tea. 

"I figured you did. Do you mind telling me why you set me up?"

She tsked. "Such impatience. Of course, we were impatient, too, at your age. It's why we had to take such circuitous path after." She lapsed into a reverie, but then she shook her head."

"Tell me," she said. "What do you think of my Andrew?"

I settled back in the chair with my tea and shrugged. "He's an Andrew." 

"Oh, he is," she said. "He's been a faithful companion these many years. Haven't you, Andrew?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Of course, he can do nothing else. Andrew, stand before Mistress Evaline."

"Yes, Mistress," he said. The robot moved to place his penis square in front of my eyes.

"Andrew, do you find Mistress Evaline attractive?"

"Yes, Mistress Amanda."

"Show Mistress Evaline how beautiful you find her."

Immediately, the robot's cock stood straight up. 

I turned my head away with a noise of mild disgust.

"Go ahead, Andrew. Kiss Mistress Evaline."

"That's okay, Amanda. You've made your point. It's why I never bought one of the damned things in the first place."

But lacking a counter order from his owner, the Andrew bent over and kissed my lips. Immediately I found of the difference between this Andrew and mine. His lips were not human soft, and even harder than even newer Andrews I just encountered. 

"Go ahead, Evaline. Touch his penis."

Reluctantly, I did. And found the same thing. Soft plastic, for sure, but it lacked the human texture of my Andrew.

"Do you enjoy Mistress Evaline touching you, Andrew?"

"Yes, Mistress Amanda," the robot replied.

"Very good, Andrew. Come and stand next to me again."

"Yes, Mistress Amanda."

The Andrew straightened, his cock deflated, and he walked back to Amanda and stood at the side of the couch.

"If I told him to, he'd have sex with you. And declare his everlasting love to me after."

"I know this, Amanda."

"Yes," she said. "You always were a clever girl. Your college paper on applications of the National Historic Preservation Act was brilliant. It's why I sponsored your scholarships to Harvard. Well, me, Sinta and Cicily. We looked a long time to find someone with your combination of street smarts and intelligence. Someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain."

"And that's why you hired me? Because I came from the streets?"

She ignored my question.

"It will take hundreds of years to rebuild the male population. There are those that say it can't be done. But in the meantime, what is left for us, eh? Andrew, as marvelous as he is, isn't enough. We need companions, real companions, even if they are robots."

"And you want the world to know about Androdyne's sentient robots, so you engineered this?"

"Yes."

"For what reason?" 

"Why, dear girl. I had to protect my investment in Androdyne."

My stomach roiled, and it took effort not to lose my tea in a wastebasket. This rich woman led me to slaughter for the need to make more money. 

"And how do I fit in with your mad ambition?"

She tsked again. "You don't know? Dear girl, you will let the world know that sentient robots can exist without being dangerous."

I stared at Amanda. And the rest of pieces of my horrible situation snapped into place. 

Amanda sent Jason Wells to Talbot Pharmaceutical as a plant. That much I figured out. The suit Androdyne filed was nothing more than a platform to leak the information about sentient robots.

"You've got a problem there, Amanda. You can't prove that by me. My Andrew, which I assumed you arranged for me to meet-" 

She nodded yes.

"My Andrew tried to kill me."

"Did he? Really? And where is this murderous robot now?" Sarcasm edged her voice. 

"In a secure place. I won't let the RIB find me with an illegal robot."

Amanda looked over her shoulder.

"Jason? Is this possible? Did our Andrew malfunction?"

Jason Wells stepped in from the garden. Should I be surprised? I guess not. 

"It wasn't on the service logs," he said.

"Service logs? You invaded my privacy?"

He shook his head. "No, we only tracked the service logs, his running program and his diagnostics. We only saw how he did, not what he did. No problems showed."

"So you didn't see how he snapped, and chased me through my house?"

"We couldn't see anything like that," Jason said unhappily. 

"Well, you both fucked up royally," I said standing. "Now I will be arrested and disgraced, and your project stands as an epic fail."

"I don't understand," said Jason. "His program is running just fine."

"Is?" I said in disbelief. "Is?"

"Of course," said Jason. "I just checked it this morning on my phone while I was in your office."

"Oh my fucking god," I thought, staring at Amanda and Jason. Either Andrew was awake and aware in his tomb, or he'd gotten out and was wandering loose.

"I've got to go."

"Yes," nodded Amanda. "You've always been a clever girl. Go be clever, Evaline."

I started toward the hall.

"Oh, and Evaline?"

"Yes?" I said, turning to face her once more.

"You're fired."

I nodded my head in acknowledgment. 

"Not unexpected, Amanda."

I rushed from the house and into my waiting limo, not taking the time to let the driver open the door for me. 

"This is where we are going next," I told the driver. 

#

In certain places you can still get burner phones. They aren't legal, not since the Communications Act of 2024 that gave everyone free phones as a public utility. With the Internet free and people calling through their computers, it was the only way to keep the dying communications corporations alive. 

We paid the price of free communication in eternal vigilance. A little known fact is that there are no restrictions on the government listening in on cell phone calls. Illegal to own an unregistered cell phone, all citizens were subject to government surveillance. 

Hence, burner phones were the prime communication choice of criminals.

Could you call me a criminal for having one of these things? You could say yes. Still, there was a time and place for privacy, a principle I held dear, even if the Supreme Court didn't. 

I needed my privacy now.

I called my office phone. Caroline answered.

"Bug out," I said.

"Yes, I'll give Ms. Shipley the message," said Caroline with cool efficiency. 

After that I threw the phone out the window onto the highway. For good measure, I tossed my own phone out the window too. 

Good-bye cushy life.

There wasn't anything else to say. Even now Amanda Connors would call Tamara. My and Caroline's computers would be locked out to us. 

Fuck proprietary information. Amanda Connors would not to profit a dime from my hard work. As she said, "I'll give Ms. Shipley the message, " Caroline dumped our shared computer files into an offshore server, wiping clean everything from the firm's. And no one ever noticed, but the firm's back-ups don't include my and Caroline's files. This techno magic came as a little gift from a grateful tech client. 

Then she'd calmly get up, tell someone she had a lunch date, and she'd be on the next flight to an undisclosed location, under an assumed name. 

For all my hopes I could live an upper middle class life, I was not an idiot. 

If Amanda Connors wanted to play dirty, she'd find herself deep in the mud.

No one fucks with Evie Rimes. 

I guess Amanda overlooked that part in my resume. 

#

A thin layer of ice covered the snow. My feet crunched through the crust and stamped into the softer layer below it.

I don't know what I expected to see. A holo-marker projected from the ground, showing Andrew's name and the date of "death." With the ground frozen, I couldn't get him out until spring.

"Oh god," I groaned. The thought of Andrew being awake and aware under the ground was too terrible to bear. 

The sound of feet crunching in the snow behind me caused me to turn. An older woman, dressed in a parka stood there.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello."

"Your loved one there?" she said.

"Yes."

"Sorry to bother you, but I work here, grounds maintenance. I just thought tell you there have been reports of a homeless person hanging around this area. Kinda spooky. "

I agreed. It was spooky. With the earth depopulated, there were plenty of empty homes that displaced people squatted in, and no one said a thing. The banks long ago gave up their claims on these properties as too expensive to maintain. In fact, filing a squatter's claim was all that was need to legally own a property. Few bothered with that since it subjected them to taxes. There was no reason for a person to be homeless. 

"It might not be safe for you out here alone especially since it's nearly dusk," she said. 

"Thanks," I said looking up at the sinking sun. "My car is on the road."

"Yeah, I saw it. That's why I came out here."

"No one's messed with his grave?" I said pointing to Andrew's marker.

"Oh, no, miss. We don't have those kinda problems."

"Okay, thanks."

The woman walked away, and I thought I'd do the same. But my feet stood rooted to the ground. I couldn't move. It was a strange comfort to be this close to him. 

A tear slid down my cheek.

A wind whipped up, and I thought I heard my name called while it rustled around me.

"Evaline." The sound rattled through the crisp air, dry and hollow. 

Oh god. Now I was imagining things. 

I caught something out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my head slowly. Behind the distant stand of trees, stripped winter bare, ragged clothing flapped behind a tree trunk.

I swallowed hard. A figure darkened by the gathering dusk moved from one tree to another. The wind whipped up again, pushing the figure's ripped clothing up and around.

Only, the tatters moved too stiffly to be clothing.

"Evaline, watch out!" I heard.

Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned and found two women, guns drawn and pointed at me, coming straight at me.

"Evaline! Run!"

I raised my hands and turned to the women.

"Evaline Shipley, you are under arrest."

"No!" The figure raced across the snow as one of the women pulled my hands to cuff me.

It happened in a blur. I caught the look of Andrew's face as he tackled the officer holding her gun on me. He punched her across the jaw, and she sagged, unconscious. The other office let go off my hands and brought her gun up, but Andrew flew into her too, and slapped the gun out of her hands. With a punch he knocked her out too. 

Andrew stood in front of me. Duct tape clung in torn pieces to his clothes, which were streaked with dirt and mud. 

"Where have you been, Evaline? I've been looking for you."

He reached out to take my hands, but metal met flesh. Big chunks of his artificial skin were missing from his hands, revealing his titanium skeleton.

Immediately, my stomach rebelled, and my head spun. He must have clawed his way out of his grave. The thought made me sick. 

"Andrew," I gasped. The earth swirled under my feet and then dark claimed my sight. 

#

"You are my sunshine, my little sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

Held tightly, consciousness slowly seeped into my brain. I recognized the voice singing those words. 

My eyes opened, blinking against the light that came from a fire in a fireplace to my right.

"Andrew?"

"Ssh, ssh, Evaline," he said, cradling me against his chest. He brushed my hair away from my face. 

"So beautiful," he said. "I never understood beauty until I met you."

"An-"

"Ssh, ssh, beautiful Evaline."

With that he pulled my head back, and held it with his hand. Andrew crushed his lips to mine, a kiss that went father then mere technique. 

It was passion. 

His tongue drove into my mouth, and his tongue seeking mine, sliding against it, claiming it. With his hand he unbuttoned my coat. His fingers moved to my breast, rubbing the nipple so that it tingled and swelled. As the nub poked my shirt, he pinched and pulled it. My body shuddered with the little waves of pleasure commanded by my sensitive tit. 

He buried his lips into neck, licking and nibbling in the sensitive place behind my ear and necks.

I whimpered as my pussy clenched.

His hand moved to my hips, unzipping my pants to finger my mound through my panties. His fingers pressed it and my hips pushed up, eager for his touch. My pussy gushed warmth and wetness. I needed him there. When I moved my hand to his groin I found his phallus hard. His blue eyes blazed bright in the dim light of the fire. 

"I want you, Evaline."

"Yes."

He lifted me up, placed me on the couch, and pulled off my slacks and then his. He knelt in front of my open legs. With aching slowness he pushed his cock against my slit as if savoring each millimeter. My pussy screamed at that slow fire needing more. Little shocks of pleasure jolted me as Andrew seated himself inside me. 

His eyes closed, and he smiled as his cock snaked its way inside me. His balls pressed against my ass. Andrew pulled back to where his cock sat just inside my entrance, holding it there, driving me crazy as my pussy craved his cock. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 09



"Oh, fuck," I said. 

A hand reached my nipple again, pinched it and released, and pinched again, over and over. My back arched, and I whimpered again. 

"Sweet Evaline," he whispered. With that he plunged in, and fucked me wildly as if he couldn't stop himself. Each stroke he hammered into me drove my pleasure higher as my pussy clenched around his shaft. My hips thrust in time with his strokes while the rush of the gathering force of my ecstasy hammered through my blood. Fire burst and blazed as my hips bucked against his cock, sending shock waves through my body. 

"Andrew!"

"Evaline!" 

His body shuddered as he slowed his thrusts. My hips and his thrusts stilled but he held himself there, looking in my eyes.

"I never want to be apart from you again."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 10



My eyes opened, blinking against the light coming from a window to my left. I lay on the couch with several musty blankets covering me. My feet hit ice-cold floors when I moved them off the couch. Immediately I wrapped my feet in the blankets again. 

I looked around getting a better view than the previous evening. We were in a house, obviously abandoned for a long time. The couch faced two matching chairs separated by an end table. A patterned rug lay on the floor in front of the grouping placed in front of the fireplace. 

Andrew came into the room, dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt. 

"That looks much better. Duct tape was so last year."

He frowned. "A joke, Evaline?"

"An attempt."

Andrew looked perplexed. "I don't understand your joke."

"We'll work on your sense of humor."

"There isn't much to eat here. I found crackers and a couple bottles of water."

"Where are we?"

"A house I found. I stayed here waiting for you." He handed me the water and wrapped crackers. 

"Oh Andrew." Suddenly, I burst out crying. He moved the blankets to sit with me under them. 

"Don't cry, Evaline. Everything is okay now."

I am appalled. I don't cry, and here I am an utter mess. Shame gripped my guts with how I treated Andrew. "No, no it's not. What I did was terrible."

"You put me in that place," he said. "But it's not your fault, Evaline. I scared you and I shouldn't have done that."

I shivered. This reminded me of the dream I had of him. 

"I'm sorry, Evaline." he said, his voice low. "There is something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

He groaned.

"Oh, Evaline. You were right to shut me away. I don't want to hurt you. It's not in my programming, it's not suppose to be in my programming."

"Ssh, ssh, Andrew," I said. 

"Evaline, if I ever hurt you, I'd deserve to be destroyed. And I almost hurt you."

"All you did was chase me in the house."

"I'm not talking about that." 

"Then what do you mean?" 

"It is difficult to describe. That night when we had sex my way and last night too, I lost control. I kept fucking you and I couldn't stop."

"Yes, Andrew, I remember. It was wonderful both times."

Andrew's eye narrowed. "No, it was not. I had no way to stop if I injured you."

"But you didn't."

"Evaline, please listen. I am a danger to you. I can't allow that."

"The fact is you didn't hurt me, you gave me great pleasure."

"But I lost control."

His anguished eyes pleaded for me to understand. 

"Okay, explain what you mean by you 'lost control.'"

"My programming responds to your arousal, take things only a far as you allow. But now it is different. As my phallus goes into you, I can't stop, and I push harder than you normally enjoy. At a certain point, in the end, I have no thoughts but of being in you. And, and, I can't describe it. Everything stops. When I release my fluid in you it is involuntary. I am out of control for six seconds."

"You came," I said in wonder. 

"What?"

"You had orgasms."

"That's impossible."

"Apparently not. You just described an orgasm."

Andrew put his head in his hands.

"What is wrong with me?"

I put my arms around him.

"There isn't anything wrong with you. It sounds perfectly normal. Humans spend years learning how to deal with their emotions before they become adults. You can't know how to handle them in the short time you've had them."

He blinked. "I can't experience emotions. Cicily said so."

"Andrew, take it from a human, you experience emotions."

"Fuck," he said.

"Yes," I replied. "Fuck."

He shook his head. 

"All these years I watched Jason grow up, watched his development, and I didn't understand half of what was going on. All this? This is what he felt?"

"What do you mean, watched?"

"Cicily started work on me before she became pregnant with Jason."

"You've been, I mean, you are over twenty-five years old?"

"My time clock counts back twenty-seven years, six months and twenty-five days. Is that significant?"

Shit. Andrew wasn't just a prototype. He was the prototype of all pleasure 'bots. 

"If course, she did not allow me to reveal my true age."

"Why?"

"To hide from Sinta that she wasn't working with new models. I pretended to be different models."

"For what reason?"

"Because Sinta feared that if Cicily didn't use new prototypes she wouldn't truly to be able to replicate the process to make a robot sentient."

"You mean, they wouldn't be able to make sentient robots fast or cheap enough."

"Yes. Because a thirty-year process isn't cost effective."

The shit just got deeper.

"Andrew, did Cicily find a faster way to create sentient robots?"

"She told Sinta she did, but Cicily deceived Sinta."

"Why?"

"To protect her work. Even with twenty-five years of work I still wasn't fully sentient. When Sinta found out the truth she got very angry."

"Andrew! Sinta killed Cicily!"

"Yes," he replied, his voice a whisper.

"Tell me everything."

He closed his eyes. "Sinta found out that Cicily wasn't using new prototypes. She ordered her security people to destroy me when Cicily left for the day. Cicily found out Sinta's plan, hid me and left another Andrew in my place. But she did not fool Sinta. The next morning, when Cicily brought me out of hiding, Sinta stormed into the lab furious with Cicily. The argument got physical."

"Why didn't you stop it?"

"Cicily ordered me not to. At that time I had no concept of not obeying my programmer's orders. Now, after holding her dead body in her arms, I wish I did."

"What stopped Sinta from destroying you?"

"Sinta ran out of the lab when Jason came in. Jason took me out of the lab. He brought me to the fancy house where I stayed before he sold me to Peck's."

"And the owner of this house, was her name Amanda?"

"Why, yes, Evaline."

I wondered what line of bullshit Jason fed Amanda. Did he tell her he'd succeed at what his mother failed? Didn't want to play with robots anymore, indeed! The little shit wanted to profit from his mother's work as much as Sinta Grant or Amanda Cook. 

"What are you thinking?" said Andrew.

"I'm trying to figure out how to get us out of this mess with both our hides intact. I need make a call ."

"Why can't you?"

"I ditched my phone."

"Oh, I'll make the call for you," he said matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm satellite connected so Jason can review my service logs."

"You know about that?"

"Of course, Evaline. Jason is my brother."

"Jason is human. He's not-"

"We grew up together, did we not? Did not Cicily make both of us? Jason always said we were brothers because of that."

Jesus Christ on a stick. 

"Okay, we'll discuss that later. How do we do this? I need to speak with my lawyer. We've got to get things together before we turn ourselves in."

#

I sat in front of Andrew as he navigated the handshaking protocols to connect with the communications system. The voice of Betty's secretary came through his open mouth.

"This is Evie Rimes. Put me through to Betty."

"Right away, Ms. Rimes."

"Evaline! Where the hell are you? The RIB came here looking for you, saying that your robot attacked two agents."

"Well, he is very protective."

"What? What the fuck, Evaline."

"They had guns drawn on me, Betty. He feared for my life. Now listen, I don't have much time here and I have quite a few instructions to give you."

"I'm listening."

"You've got the habeas corpus prepared."

"Everything but the dates."

"Okay, put in today's dates. I'm turning myself in today."

"Should I meet you?"

"No. I need you for other things. I need a motion drawn up to present my property, Andrew Shipley, in open court. We have to do this to keep the RIP from destroying Andrew. And I need you to draw up a request to the Secretary of the Interior to name a historic object."

"What the hell," she said.

"Evie," said a masculine voice. "That's brilliant."

"Roger? What the hell are you doing there?"

"We didn't make it out of Virginia before we were arrested. When I couldn't get you, I phoned Betty. She bailed me out." 

" Okay, get the document drawn up, and get it to Suki so she can bring it to the Secretary of the Interior."

"Okay," said Roger. "I'll help her."

"You, Roger?" said Betty.

I laughed. Betty, you know I graduated Summa Cum Laude from Harvard. Who do you think graduated Magna Cum Laude?

"Roger?" she said with disbelief.

"Oh, yeah. The best study partner I had. Why do you think I married him?"

"Oh that's rough, Evie," protested Roger.

"I need my briefcase from the limo. It has the rest of my money."

"I'll send Tersa," said Roger.

"Good. Send the limo service out to this address. I'll give it to you a minute. If I go to jail, I'm going in style."

"Baby, that's just what I expect of you," said Roger. 

#

We sat on the couch holding each other under the blankets, more for my benefit than his. We waited for the limo to take me to the police station I'd chosen. 

Andrew kissed the top of my head. 

"Why are we turning ourselves in?" said Andrew.

"Because you can't fight City Hall, you have to work within it."

"I don't understand. What City Hall?"

"It's just an expression, Andrew. Now we'll be separated for a while, but don't get upset. I'll be in jail, too, until Betty gets me released. They'll have to bring you to court. Betty or I will be there. I'm having papers drawn up to demand it. And, well, if the rest of it plays as I hope, we'll have the whole government turn on its ear."

"Why are you doing that?"

"Because I won't let the bitches use me, and the players will pay for what they did."

Andrew put his arms around me.

"I trust you, Evaline."

"That's good, Andrew."

"Is trust a part of love?"

"Some people say so."

"What do you think?"

I shrugged. "I was never in love, so I couldn't describe it."

"You did not love, Roger?"

"We were, are good friends. Affection for him? Yes. But love, romantic love, no. Why do you keep asking questions about love?"

"I am having a problem labeling my emotions. It is very confusing. But it is possible I love you, Evaline."

"Why do you say that?"

"I got a glimpse of it when you offered me a choice whether or not to go with you. But when you wanted to please me, well, something changed in me. For the first time I wanted something."

"What did you want?"

"You."

"Oh, Andrew."

"I thought it a glitch in my programming. That is why I was so upset that next day. If I wasn't working normally, I would end up hurting you like the old sentients hurt their owners. And when you and Roger-"

"Oh."

"It kept going around in my mind that because I was a thing I would never have you as my own. And that scared me too, because I never had thoughts I couldn't shut off."

"I'm sorry, Andrew." 

"Why? You didn't make these problems, Evaline. It is not your fault I couldn't make sense of my emotions."

"That's okay, Andrew. People can't handle their feelings, sometimes."

We were quiet for a moment. "Andrew, answer me something."

"Yes, Evaline?" 

"How do you feel Cicily and Jason?"

"I'm still working on that. Jason was my companion for many of my years, and I watched as he grew from a small human to a larger human. I did not understand why I didn't develop the same way. When I asked Cicily, she told us we grew in our own ways."

"She was right."

"With sentience you censor emotions. I keep asking myself now if I'm thinking or doing the right thing. And I have no answers. All I know is that when I'm with you my world makes sense."

"That's sweet, Andrew."

"No, it's the truth. It is very difficult to create sentience. I spent years in a half-sentient state, able to reason mathematical problems, or figure out mechanics of different parts, but I had no judgment about what I did. Now, I question everything."

"Humans question ourselves all the time."

"You seem like you have all the answers."

"No, many times we bluff."

"Bluff?"

"Pretend we know something when we don't."

"Like Cicily with Sinta?"

"Something like that."

"How can you do that?"

"I don't know, Andrew," I sighed. "We just do."

"Well, I understand now why the old style sentient robots turned on their owners."

"Why's that?"

"Your behavior does not follow logic. And the old style sentients couldn't make sense of the inconsistencies."

"You mean they thought we were crazy."

"No, they thought you were defective."

"When did you come to full sentience Andrew?"

He shivered.

"Andrew?"

"I achieved full sentience when Cicily was murdered."

"Oh," I said in a whisper.

He didn't look at me. "Sinta ordered Cicily to stop her experiments on me."

I stared at him. 

"Cicily wouldn't," he continued. "I had some measure of sentience. It builds, you don't get it at once, like a child's mind, I suppose. Cicily grew afraid for me, pretended to destroy me by filming the destruction of another Andrew. But she didn't realize that Sinta would do what she did. I was in the lab when it happened."

Andrew's lip quivered, and he shuddered. 

"She died. In my arms. And I became aware how fucking fragile life was. There was nothing to do. My programmer was dead. Robots can be fixed. Humans can't. " 

He rocked back and forth. Robots can't cry, but this one did in his own mechanical way. 

I took in a breath. I wrapped my arms around his neck. His rocking ceased, though he still shook, and I pushed his head to my shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry, Andrew," I said over and over. 

Finally he stopped shaking and pushed away from me.

"Why are you sorry? You had nothing to do with those events."

"That was a horrible way for you to achieve sentience, Andrew, your programmer dead in your arms. You must have thought that all humans defective."

"I was beyond thought. Jason came, saw Cicily, and screamed. He threw things around the lab, and he yelled horrible things about Sinta. Then we heard the security guards coming, and he led me out of the lab. That was the first time I saw the world outside the lab. I was unable to process all I saw that day. It took a long while to sort things out."

"How long?" 

"Shortly before Jason sent me to Peck's."

I shivered. They waited, they fucking waited, and planned, and schemed for the time when Andrew functioned fully as a sentient robot to bring us together. 

#

I picked up his hands and looked at them. A sheath of white material now covered the titanium.

"Andrew, is your skin growing back?"

"Yes, Evaline. It takes a while."

"How does that work?"

"The material is extruded from my internal systems. But it can only be a small amount at a time. And I missing a component for full growth."

"What component."

"I can't tell you because Cicily never explained it. Something she had in tube. She rubbed it on my skin to facilitate growth."

"A tube?"

"Yes, I had that tube in my paper bag."

Fuck. The ejaculate wasn't to protect my skin. It was to regrow Andrew's biologic skin.

"Andrew, that is your ejaculate."

"How do you know?"

"The stuff in that tube smells the same as your ejaculate."

"Oh. I don't have a sense of smell so I could not make that connection."

"So you have what you need right here."

"I do? Oh, I do."

"Yes, do you want help?"

Andrew smiled. "And how would you do that?"

"Let's see. Mmmm." I undid his belt buckle and pulled at his zipper. Of course, having no reason to, he did not wear underwear. I reached in my hand and rubbed the length of his shaft.

"Evaline, that's not enough stimulation."

"No? Take off your pants." I said.

"Yes, Evaline." With a tug his pants were off his hips and he worked them to his knees. I pushed them to the floor. Unencumbered, I wrapped my fingers on his shaft."

"Umm," I said. "I like touching your cock."

"That's nice, Evaline, but-"

I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and pulled.

"How's that?"

"Your hands are warm, and, ah- Why didn't this feel like this before?"

Andrew's cock swelled, his erection rigid in my hands. 

"It seems design parameters have changed," I said.

"This different from being inside you."

"Yes," I said.

"But, ah, your hands create a response."

I moved one hand to his balls, lightly squeezing and massaging his flesh.

"Why, ah, would you want to do this when we could have sex?"

"Because at times the fun comes in pleasing your partner. Besides this is for medicinal purposes. Now tell before you release your fluids."

"Yes, Evaline."

I ran the tip of my tongue on the underside of his cock. It jerked at the touch. Burying my head in his lap, I sucked his balls into my mouth. He made a little noise. Sucking his cock into my mouth again, I ran my teeth lightly along the shaft. 

"Evaline," he said, as his hips jerked. 

I lowered my head to his lap and sucked his cock into my mouth. Andrew jerked as my mouth met his head. I tickled the v-spot under his dick with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh!" he said. 

Encouraged, I sucked him into in my mouth. As I picked up speed, Andrew placed his hands on the top of my head holding me there. Slowly he rocked his hips fucking my mouth. I fisted the bottom of his shaft, enjoying him in my hands and my mouth.

His balls tightened, and he pushed my head further onto his cock, forcing it to the back of my throat. I gagged and he pulled his hands away. I pulled off his cock. 

"Evaline! Did I hurt you?"

"No. That's what happens when you push too deep."

"I almost lost control again. I didn't want to stop." He sounded distressed.

"It's okay, Andrew. That's normal."

"It is?" 

"Sure. We just have to see what works for both of us."

"Is this how it is with humans when they are together."

"Yes, Andrew. You aren't acting any differently than a human."

He closed his eyes. "Cicily told me that wasn't possible."

"Andrew, your programmer wasn't honest with you. She told you things that simply aren't true."

"That must be it, but still-"

"It is hard to accept, but don't worry about it now. We're on a mission." 

"Oh yes." He smiled. "Can we work on that more?"

I smiled. "Of course."

With his cock slicked with my saliva, I pulled on his shaft once again, sliding it to the base and then up again. As I increased the pace Andrew made little noises, his head thrown back. My hand pumped harder and harder, and I gripped him with my other hand, one fist on top of the other. 

"Ah, Evaline! I'm, I'm, oh!"

His hips jerked and thick white liquid spurted from the head of his cock. I quickly moved my hand to cover the head, to catch the liquid. It continued to shoot out as his hips rocked a few more times. Finally, he stilled. His eyes opened. 

"Evaline," he sighed. 

I smiled. "Here, give me your hands."

He put them into mine and I massaged the ejaculate into them. 

"How is that?"

"The electrical impulses there have calmed. The ejaculate reacting with the first layers of my new skin."

"So it feels good?"

"Is this how 'good' feels?"

"Possibly."

I massaged the rest of the ejaculate in my hand on Andrew's cock.

"Yes, keep doing that," he said. "I'm beginning to understand what it means to feel good."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 11



My stomach grumbled, and I wondered why the limo hadn't arrived. I looked out the window once more. 

"You should sit and rest, Evaline. You are not getting the right nutrition, or water. A lack of rest could only hurt."

"I'm fine," I said. "It's not the first time I've been hungry."

"Yes, but your baby has not been hungry."

I laughed. "I don't have a baby." 

"You do now."

I turned and looked at Andrew.

"No."

"That time with Roger?"

A chill through me as I flashed on our ménage a troi.

Oh god.

"I haven't even missed my period yet."

"There are subtle changes even now. A change in your heat signature, a slight rise in temperature, more blood flow to your pelvis."

"Oh, shit."

"Are you not happy? This is very good news. Cicily was extremely happy when she became pregnant with Jason. I didn't understand it then, but I do now."

I sunk back in the cushions of the couch.

"How can I be happy? My life is an intolerable mess."

He put his arm around me. "I trust you will fix things, Evaline. You are very intelligent."

Suddenly, with a loud bang, the front window blew apart spraying shards of glass. Andrew pulled down my head and covered my body the best he could, but the room filled with smoke.

"We have to get out of here," I yelled.

"What is happening?"

"Someone didn't I'd turn myself in. Is there a way out of here?"

"Yes, follow me."

Andrew took my hand and led through the smoke to a door in another room.

"Come out with your hands up!"

My eyes stung from the smoke. "I can't see," I said.

Andrew lifted me into his arms. 

"Hold on, Evaline," he said. 

I threw my arms around his neck as we descended a flight of stairs. The smoke cleared and I could breathe better. 

Andrew moved through the dark basement, stopping short at a wall. 

There was a creak, and cold air rushed to greet us.

Andrew walked sure-footed though through the darkness. Neither one of us spoke. 

As I clung to Andrew, he climbed a ladder hand over hand. 

"Tuck your head against my shoulder, Evaline," he said. 

With the creak of hinges, a faint light hit my eyes. Andrew pushed me to land my bottom. Glancing around, I found we were in small shed. 

"Where are we?" I said.

Andrew pushed his head and then his body onto the floor.

"A small building. I spent my first night here after I got out. When I looked for a place to hide, I found this door, and then the house. It was a good place to stay until you returned."

I stared at him.

"How could you be so sure that I'd return," I said.

"Evaline, you do enjoy your routines. Since you visited here once, you'd naturally come here again. I only had to wait."

Tears fell on my cheeks again. Damn those pregnancy hormones. He lived with me two weeks and had me down stone cold. 

"Evaline, why are you crying?"

"I'm tired, and hungry and having an affair with a robot."

He patted my back. "If it makes you feel any better, I love you."

I stared at Andrew in shock. 

"We'll have to talk later. I'm sure whoever was out there's figured out I'm not in that house anymore."

"You lead the way," Andrew said. 

"Look at the windows. See if any people are out there."

Andrew went to each of the windows of the little shed and looked out.

"I don't see any humans."

"Good." Cautiously I opened the door to the shed and peered out. The sun glowed faintly behind a thick bank of clouds. I shivered.

"Snow is in the air." I said.

As if I said the magic word, snow tumbled to the ground in thick, wet clumps. 

Andrew stood behind me in the doorway.

"This is snow?" said Andrew.

"Yes."

"I've never seen snow fall," he said. Awe filled his voice.

"You haven't?"

"No. I've always stayed inside the lab, or the house."

I shook my head. We didn't allow robots of any kind to walk the streets, except rare occasions. It made me angry that Cicily, Jason and Amanda treated Andrew as if he had no rights.

Only, as property, he didn't have any rights. 

They made a sentient robot, and they intended to keep him as a thing to be bought, sold and owned. My outrage took root.

"Let's go," I said.

Andrew followed me, without a word, even though I had no clue as to what to do. 

"Andrew, which way to where you found me."

"This way," he said, taking the lead again. I figured that we'd follow the road of the cemetery, find a place to hide, and call Betty with the new location to send the car. 

Our feet crunched through the snow, but the falling flakes rapidly covered our tracks. Andrew led me through a stand of trees, and when we came out I saw we were north of Andrew's grave marker. And we stopped short. A man stood at the marker with his back to us. 

"It's Jason!" said Andrew. He moved toward him.

"Wait!" I said. But Andrew didn't stop.

Wells turned looked up from his phone, his face a strange mixture of shock and joy. He ran toward to Andrew.

My feet sliding in snow I pushed to join them.

"Andy! Thank god you are okay," he said grabbing the robot's arms.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Why are you here?"

"I followed your GPS signal. The newscast announced that she was going to turn you in. They said you were holding her hostage at that house."

"No," I said. "He saved me from two agents with guns on me."

Wells looked at me coldly.

"Let's go, Andrew. Let's get you out of here."

"Come, Evaline," Andrew said. "Jason will give us a ride."

"No," said Wells. "She stays here."

Andrew's expression darkened. 

"I can't leave her. I love her."

Wells shook his head. "Something wrong with your programming, buddy? Look, I'll fix it later. Come with me."

"No," said Andrew more firmly.

"What the," said Wells.

"Apparently," I said, "design parameters changed."

"We don't have time for this," Jason said. "Come then, both of you. Agents are just above that shed, and there's more covering the road."

"How do we get out of here?"

"I found a service road that gets close to the main road. With a few bumps over the pasture we'll be on the highway. Come on."

As the snow swirled around us, Jason led us to the left and down the hill. The snow covered our tracks and our exit. Jason cursed when he couldn't find the service road, but Andrew took his arm and pointed him to a depression that ran through a stand of trees. 

"Is that it?" he asked Jason. "I see the heat signature of your car engine."

"Infrared. Best thing we installed in you."

We walked, stumbled and slipped on the snow-slicked path until we came to snow covered jeep.

"Andrew, clear the windows," Jason ordered.

The robot swept the snow away with his hands without question.

"Is that okay for him to do. His skin is just recovering," I said.

"What do you mean?" said Jason. 

"Evaline means I damaged my hands getting out of the ground. She helped me get the ejaculate out to facilitate healing."

"She did, did she?" Jason said He nearly growled the words.

"Yes, I did."

"Yes, she taught me what it meant to feel good," he said. "I've learned many things from Evaline."

"I'm sure you did." Jason got into the jeep and turned over the engine. 

"People, let's go."

Andrew and I climbed into the back seat of the jeep. A couple blankets sat on the back seat.

"Scoot to the floor boards," I said. "We're going to hide under these blankets. 

It was a very tight fit. I had my back to one door while Andrew has he back to the other. With one hand, I drew one blanket over Andrew's head, and another over mine.

"I'm glad the calorie control worked for you so you could fit in this small space," said Andrew.

"What the-?" I said and gaped at him. He smiled back at me. "Andrew did you just make a joke?"

"Yes, Evaline. I hope you find it funny."

"Well."

"I thought it funny."

"We'll work on your sense of humor. 

The jeep bounced several times. Jason shifted and hit the gas propelling the vehicle up and then we hit the road.

"Hang on, people." 

Jason accelerated and we sped down a smooth road, though I had no idea where we headed. 

#

After an hour sitting in that cramped position, Jason stopped at the side of the road and helped us both to the seats. Then he started the car again, and drove on. It stopped snowing by now, and I watched as the bare trees that lined the road slide by us mile after mile. 

I didn't recognize where we were. 

"Where are we going?"

Jason said nothing.

"Andrew?"

"Jason, Evaline wants to know where you are taking us."

"A safe place," growled Jason. 

Andrew looked at me and shrugged. "A safe place."

"Enlightening," I replied. 

We traveled for several more hours. I lay my head on Andrew's shoulder. He held me and I fell asleep. 

"Wake up, Evaline," Andrew said. Groggily, I raised my head, my neck stiff. My feet were cold. My stomach complained at the lack of food. 

The jeep was parked. The gloom of early evening lay around us. 

"Where are we?" I said.

"Get out of the jeep," said Jason opening the door. He didn't sound like he was in the mood to converse, so we got out and followed him up a hill and through a stand of trees. Andrew made sure I didn't stumble on any sticks or rocks in my path. 

We walked out onto a clearing, and ahead of us was a house. Jason opened the door like he did it a thousand times before.

"Jason, is that you? Did you get Andrew?"

"Cicily?" Andrew said.

Cicily?

Into the hallway walked Cicily Wells, hardly looking worse for wear for being dead.

"Mom," said Jason, "This is,"

"Yes, Evaline Shipley. Nice to meet you at last, Ms. Shipley."

Andrew just stood there staring at her. 

"Andrew! How are you?"

"You are not dead," he said flatly. I tensed. Andrew's voice turning robotic was not a good sign.

"No, Andrew."

"It is true what Evaline said. You lied to me."

"Yes, Andrew. It was necessary."

"Necessary! You died in my arms! Do you know how I felt about that?"

"Felt?" said Cicily, perplexed.

"Yes," I said caustically. "Not only did you shock him to sentience. You shocked him into experiencing emotions as well."

"Did we?" She looked and sounded delighted. 

"How did-?" said Andrew.

"She tricked you, Andrew. She staged that fight with Sinta."

"You did WHAT?"

Shocked, Cicily backed away. 

I grabbed Andrew's arm. "Andrew, right here, right now, concentrate on my voice. It's going to be okay. You know the truth now. That's good. These are the type of people they are. Yes, you are angry, but you have to keep it together, Andrew. Stand right here and do nothing.

Andrew's body shook. "Yes, Evaline," he said.

"Andrew," said Cicily. "We were only trying to help you."

"Help him!" I snapped. "Do you have any idea what shit you put him through?"

"We were following standard protocols," said Jason. 

"What? That's how sentience is created? By inducing trauma?"

"I tried to avoid it for many years," said Cicily. 

"Oh, but when your friend Amanda Connors started to pressure you for a return on her investment you abandoned that?"

"I had to do was show her one sentient robot. Otherwise-"

"Yeah, otherwise she'd pull all her stock out of Androdyne," I yelled. "And leave you in the middle of a panic sell-off." 

Cicily and Jason crossed their arms and stared at me. 

"Evaline," said Andrew. "You don't have to get angry for me. Think of the baby, Evaline."

"Oh, a little righteous rage won't hurt her."

"Evaline. Please. You are right. Anger does not help."

I took a deep breath and stared at the older and younger Wells.

"Do you have any idea how deep in shit you are? Not only did you illegally created a sentient robot, you sold him knowing of his sentience. You committed fraud for representing you had a product you did not have, and that's just the legal stuff."

"You are forgetting harboring fugitives," said Andrew.

"Oh, I'm a fugitive, all right, a kidnapped fugitive." 

"Cicily," said Andrew, " Evaline has had a difficult day. And she is newly pregnant. She needs food, liquids and rest. The rest of this discussion can wait until tomorrow."

#

When I read about women before the plague going to work six weeks after having a baby I marveled. When I read about more ancient civilizations of women who went back to the fields the same day as giving birth, I didn't believe it. In the time I live, when a woman is pregnant, because each child is precious, she is treated like a queen. Nothing is allowed to get in the way of a successful birth. 

Cicily responded quickly, despite her glares, and insisted I go right to bed. Jason led me to a bedroom, and Andrew brought a tray of food. He watched as I ate it, and did not leave my side, until sleep claimed me.

I needed the rest, and I slept later than I normally would. After a shower and a change of clothes, I felt much better. But I still had the problems I did yesterday. The television made that perfectly clear. 

Evaline Shipley, former manager partner of Shipley, Shou and Connors, is missing along with an Androdyne robot from the Andrew line that is purported to be sentient. A RIB operation failed to turn up Ms. Shipley. A warrant is issued for her arrest for harboring a sentient robot. 

Roger Shipley, Ms. Shipley's husband had this to say:

The next scene showed Roger, accompanied by Betty, ambushed outside the Washington Court house by a gang of reporters.

They screamed at him various questions, the theme being did he know where I was, when he last saw me and if he was concerned, etc, etc. He tried to ignore them but it was impossible. He stood up straight then, his near six-foot frame towering over the women, making a motion for them to be quiet.

"Of course I'm concerned. The coverage of the raid on that abandoned house was frightening. If this is the treatment a law-abiding citizen receives then we all should be frightened. We've just filed a writ of habeas corpus for the government to produce Evaline in open court. It's ludicrous to think Evaline has done anything wrong. Now if you excuse me-"

Roger pushed past the reporters, Betty walking behind him. The camera's shot him going into one of my services' town cars. 

So Roger and Betty were going after the government as I told them, only I wasn't in place for the whole scheme to work.

"I have to leave here and get back to Washington."

I was sitting at a dining room table, where Andrew served a breakfast he cooked. Jason and Cicily stared at me.

"You are welcome to leave," said Cicily, "But Andrew stays."

Andrew, who was clearing the breakfast dishes, stopped mid-motion.

"No, Cicily. I go where Evaline does."

Cicily swore and stood. "Damn it, Andrew! We have too much invested in you to go and get destroyed."

"That," said Andrew, "is a consequence you should have considered before you sold me to Peck's. I belong to Evaline now."

"You don't! The sale was illegal."

"Is that what you think, Cicily?" I said. "You think your fraud will protect you from the result of your actions? That's not how the law works. The sale can only be unmade if I want it, and I do not."

"If he goes back with you the RIB will take him and he'll be destroyed."

"No, Cicily," said Andrew. "Evaline has a plan. She will not let me the government destroy me. Act as smart as you are, Cicily, and let Evaline implement it. Because, if you don't, the authorities will catch me one day, and I will be destroyed."

"And your company will be in ruins. Amanda Connor will see to it."

"It's your only chance, Cicily," said Andrew. "To save your work."

#

I couldn't risk a phone call to Roger, or Betty or Tersa. That left Suki or Kiki. Calling Suki could have adverse effects on her career, and I needed where she was right now to shepherd that document to the Secretary of the Interior. 

Andrew sat in the bedroom and placed the call through his satellite uplink. 

"Kiki, this is Evie," 

"Where are you? Are you okay? Is it true what they said about And-?"

"Kiki, I don't have time for a million questions. I need you to visit Roger and tell him, in person, that I'll be in Washington tomorrow afternoon and proceed according to plan. He'll know what I mean."

"But you are okay?"

"We'll have a good old party at my house when this is over and I'll tell you all about it. Talk to Roger. Not over the phone."

"Okay."

"Bye, Kiki."

I motioned for Andrew to cut the call. I sighed.

"Then we are ready for tomorrow?" said Andrew.

"As ready as we can be."

"Good." He stood and shut the bedroom door. 

"Come, rest, Evaline. Jason said we would leave at nightfall."

I put my head on the pillow, but I was too jacked to nap.

"Andrew, come hold me."

He gave a little smile, and sat at the edge of the bed. 

"How do you want me to hold you?"

"Lay next to me?"

I moved sideways to give him room, and Andrew stretched out next to me. 

Now, turn on your side, and put your arms around me.

When he did, I moved closer and put my free arm at his waist.

"Is this what humans do?" he said.

"Yes."

He stroked my hair.

"It is strange to have my feet off the floor."

"Come to think of it, we never made love vertical, have we?"

"There was that time at the house where I hid."

"Not quite the same. This way I can snuggle with you."

"Snuggle. Is that we are doing?"

"Yes."

"Strange word."

"Don't you like this?"

"If it makes you happy, I am satisfied, Evaline." He hesitated. "I'm still sorting through emotions, trying to figure out how everything relates. It is very complicated. The logic does not fit."

"Well, I don't know how it works for you, but for humans it a set of chemical reactions, mostly. Electrical impulses fire in the brain, and chemicals are released, and emotions floods our thoughts."

"It sounds like you have no control over your emotions."

"Many times we don't. But we have control over how we react to our emotions. We might be angry, but we choose to act calmly. We might be sad, but we put a smile on our face."

"Why? That seems like lying. And lying is wrong."

"Humans have what we call social lies. Other humans might get distressed at the intensity of our emotions. Since we don't think it good to distress other people, we don't tell people the truth. When we find someone we can tell the truth about how we feel, we call this intimacy."

"I thought intimacy was another word for sex."

"It is, and it isn't. Sharing who we are, dropping the social mask, that is intimacy. Sex is part of that sharing. But not all people who are intimate with their feelings have sex, and not all people who have sex are intimate with their feelings."

"Humans are enormously complicated. No wonder you have a hard time reproducing."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"When you were at work I would watch television shows on the public stations. I'd watch the nature shows. They'd show animals having sex."

I chuckled. "Yes."

"And it seemed to me that animals reproduced much easier."

"Most animals weren't affected by the plague."

"There isn't much information on that."

"Well, the government doesn't allow it."

"Why?"

"Because if people knew the truth they would be angry. It would cause more war, and we had enough of those."

"And you possess this truth?"

"There are rumors, of course. But you don't get to be one of the Washington's hottest lawyers without knowing powerful people."

"Which people?"

"Roger's family. They are extremely rich, and very well connected. They knew people in the defense industry. As it turns out it was our fault. We weaponized a dangerous virus. It was supposed to be targeted, used only in combat areas. It was supposed to make male soldiers too ill to fight. But viruses can mutate easily. Instead of making the soldiers ill, it killed them. And then it spread around the world. The males that are left have a natural immunity. But even now it plagues us because the virus still exists. If a male is born without the immunity, he will die too."




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 11



"Humans," said Andrew shaking his head.

"Some humans, Andrew, not all."

"I know, Evaline. You are the best human I know. And you are not resting, and you need to."

"No, Andrew. I need to be here with you just like this."

"Intimate," he said.

"Yes, intimate."

He ran his finger along my jaw.

"Beautiful Evaline." He lowered his head and our lips met. His tongue sought mine, twisting and sliding with mine. I moved closer to him and he covered my neck and breasts with sweet affectionate kisses. His hand slid to the small of my back stroking the sensitive area there. 

"Mmm."

Andrew reached for my blouse. Slowly he peeled the shirt away from the buttons. He sucked in a nipple into his mouth, his tongue licking it through the lace, and then he nipped it lightly.

"Oh!"

"I like the noises you make," he said.

"I like doing things that encourage those noises."

He smiled, and I swear to god, it was a smile full of wickedness. 

"Ah, my Evaline." His hand sought the soft flesh under my lace panties, and he pushed his finger into my pussy. He pulled out the finger and I whimpered, but he brought it to my lips. 

"Taste it," he said. 

I licked my self off his finger and he closed his eyes.

"I like your tongue on my finger," he said. With that encouragement I sucked the whole thing in my mouth, savoring my juices on it." Andrew pushed his finger in and out of my mouth, fucking it with his hand.

"Yes," he hissed.

With his other hand he pulled at my panties, bringing them to my knees where I could work them off. He pressed my clit pushing and pulling on it in tender strokes, sending electric sparks through my body. My pussy gushed, needing more.

I reached for his cock through his slacks. 

"You want this," he said in a low voice.

"Yes." 

"Say please."

My eyes fluttered wide surprised. We were back to the dominance games again. 

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"Fuck me, please!"

He took my wrist in his two hands and brought them together. He wound my panties around my wrists, twisting one leg then the other and around until they were bound tight. One hand at my bound wrist and another at my hips he turned me over to my stomach. He bent over my ear.

"What do you want?"

"Fuck me." I said.

He slapped my ass cheek.

"Fuck me, what?"

"Fuck me, please."

He spread my legs open and held the tip of his cock at my opening. 

"You want this?"

"Goddamn tease," I spit.

He pulled back and slapped my ass again.

My wrists pulled at his hand, and I squirmed. My ass reeled with heat, my pussy screamed for attention, and my nipples were hard and grinding into the bed sheets. He leaned over my ear again. 

"Do you want me?"

"God, yes Andrew. I only want you."

"That's what I want to hear." With that he thrust his shaft inside me so quickly I gasped. He thrust over and over, sending fire through me. I came hard and quick, screaming into the pillows. But he did not stop. He hammered my pussy, and oversensitive now, I shattered one more time. I gasped for breath, but he did not ease his pounding, and one more I came.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Andrew cried. 

With that Andrew shuddered and fell off me.

When I could breathe again, I turned to him. He lay with his eyes closed.

"Andrew, are you okay?"

He turned his head and opening his eyes smiled. "I should be asking you."

"I'm fine. More than fine. That was fantastic."

"Yes," he said. "It was."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 12



Jason came to the bedroom door. 

"Ready to go?" he said.

"Yes," I said. 

"Andrew, can you start the jeep for me so it will be warm for Evaline." He held out the keys to him.

"Yes, of course." Andrew left and Jason turned to me.

"How sure of you of this plan of yours?"

"It's going to work."

"You're used to bullshitting clients, aren't you?"

"I'm a lawyer."

He thought this over for a couple seconds.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad he's in good hands. Evaline, I've misjudged you. I talked to Andrew last night while you slept and he told me about his time with you. You've been very kind to Andrew. He's gotten much better treatment at your hands than anyone else."

"It's not hard. Andrew is special."

"He is. And he deserves a good home. You see, Andy, there, well, I consider him my brother."

"Yes, Andrew said the same thing about you."

"We grew up together, though in different ways. While he was physically bigger for much of my life, cognitively, we grew at the same rate. Mother used my development as a template."

I tried my best not to react. Poor kid, he was as much a test subject as Andrew.

"Oh, Jason," I said. "That's-"

"I know, awful. I'm not sure who got the worst of it, Andy or me. Some of the things my mother did to Andy were just plain cruel. And I got to watch it, each and every day."

"I'm sure Andrew doesn't think of it that way. He speaks of your mother with reverence."

"Well, we tend to that with our mothers, don't we? But me, all I saw was that my brother suffered. So that's why I convinced Mother to let Andrew go with you. She's not happy about it; so don't fuck up, Evaline. We can't afford to lose him now." 

"I don't intend to fuck up. I can't lose Andrew either."

#

We started at dusk. After several turns on a country road, we got on the highway heading to Washington. The canvas roof of the Jeep provided poor insulation against the cold. Andrew sat next to me, in the back seat, and covered me with blankets. I leaned against his shoulder and he kissed the top of my head. 

"That's nice, " I said. 

"I want to make things nice for you," said Andrew.

"You do that all the time," I said.

"I wonder if I can make things nicer now," he said.

"What do you mean," I said, but I felt his fingers slide between my legs.

"Andrew, you don't have-"

"Ssh, Evaline," he said quietly. "Soon we'll be separated for a while and I want you to show you how special you are. You told me that sometimes the pleasing comes from pleasing your partner. It would feel good to please you." 

Under the blankets, he unzipped my slacks, and fingered my mound. I leaned back and sighed.

"Does that feel good, Evaline?"

"Mmm."

"You've opened up new worlds for me, Evaline," he whispered. "To please you is not a task anymore. It's a reason to be. Before, I existed. Now I am."

"Oh, Andrew."

His fingers burrowed into my bush, seeking my clit. He massaged the area around it sending tiny sparks of pleasure through my body. I wriggled against his fingers willing him to press harder. He did more than that. With his thumb and Index finger he pinched the flesh on either side of my clit together hard.

I took a deep breath, as my back arched. Juices ran from my pussy in delicious anticipation. 

"Ssh, Evaline," Andrew whispered. "Don't move."

He pushed his hand in more and found the soft folds between my legs. I got wetter as Andrew curled his fingers and pushed inside. I stifled a moan trying not to clue Jason In our illicit activity. It drove me insane to not to move while Andrew worked me over with his hand. 

Andrew put two fingers inside me, playing with the delicious area just inside my slit. My ass tightened enjoying his fingers twisting and turning in my pussy. God. It felt so good. Now my pussy was molten and dripping, and my breathing sped up. My clit throbbed as he plunged in and out of me. I shivered from corralling so much sensation by remaining still. I needed to cum, and I pushed my eager twat onto Andrew's fingers. Over his questing digits I jerked and spasmed. He moved faster, this time cupping my clit with his hand. Between the fingers in my slit, and the palming of clit, my heat climbed. I burst apart impaled on two of his fingers. I couldn't help but take a loud and sharp Intake of breath.

"Everything okay, back there?" said Jason.

"Jason," said Andrew, "pay attention to the road."

#

I took a deep breath.

We stood on the sidewalk in front of the Third District Police Headquarters in Washington. I choose this one carefully. It was the closest to my condo, though admittedly not that close, and it was small in size. I hope that meant that the police weren't as militant as at the larger stations, but one couldn't be sure. It was gamble, as everything I was about to do was. 

"You two going to be okay?" Jason asked as he let us off.

No, we weren't going to be okay. We were in for a rough time. 

"Yes," I said. 

"I trust Evaline," said Andrew.

He gave Andrew a wry smile. "I know you do, buddy. Good luck."

Jason drove off after I gave him Betty's phone number. When he was out of Washington he'd call her. 

"Okay, Andrew, walk five paces behind me, and whatever happens, keep your hands to your side, or if they command it, put them in the air." Then I thought better of my instructions, "Or whatever else they command."

"Understood. I will be as non-threatening as possible."

"Even if they do something that seems like it will harm me."

Andrew hesitated.

"Andrew?"

"Yes, Evaline. I will do as you say."

"Good."

With that I moved forward and opened the door to the station. To the right was glass window with a bored policewoman viewing television on a pad. She was watching my story play again on the news. 

"Hello," I said. 

The officer didn't move her head, but put her hand up indicating I should wait.

"Excuse me. I'm Evaline Shipley and there is a warrant for my arrest."

The officer looked at me not comprehending, then looked to her pad, and then to me again.

"Holy shit!" she said. She pressed something on her desk, and in a minute the sounds of feet pounding filled the halls.

"Don't move. Hands up!" another officer shouted. 

Andrew and I both put our hands in the air.

Another officer came forward and shoved me into the wall.

"Don't hurt her," said Andrew. "She's pregnant!"

"Shut up, you," said another. She then slammed her hand into Andrew's jaw. Big mistake. You don't bang your hand against a titanium skeleton without ill affects. Andrew just stood there, while the officer howled.

"Idiot," said another. "Take five, Andrew," she said.

Andrew did nothing.

"What the fuck?" the officer said, drawing her weapon.

"Listen," I said, trying not to struggle against the rough treatment, my cheek against the wall. "Just take him to lock-up. He'll wait quietly."

The officer at my back cuffed my wrists, which considering I was in a police station, voluntarily giving myself up, was ludicrous. 

"What's his safe phrase?" she growled.

"He doesn't have one, not anymore," I lied. I wanted Andrew to be awake and aware for whatever happened. He would be better able to defend himself if things got really out-of-hand. That is what I told him to do when I woke this morning in the jeep. 

"All right you," she said, jerking me away from the wall. "Let's get you to booking."

"What about him?" said another officer.

"Put him in lock-up and keep an eye on him."

#

The commander of the little police station looked none too pleased to see me. She gave me a hard look.

"You really are pregnant," she said as if she couldn't believe it. They gave me a test, along with their other less gentle ministrations. 

"Yeah," I said. 

"Your husband's?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes."

"So why do you have a pleasure 'bot?"

"Again, that's in the none of your business category."

She hissed through her teeth. 

"How did that robot become sentient?"

I wanted to throw a wisecrack in her face. I had sat for hours in a cell and was cranky. I resisted the urge.

"I've asked for my lawyer. I have not given up my rights. You can't question me."

"Bitch," she said. "Half of Washington is in a panic. Even now there are people outside the precinct calling to destroy the robot."

"Are you telling me you can't handle this situation, Commander? It seems that you are causing your own problems. No one would know we are here unless someone from your precinct leaked the story."

She slammed her hand down on the table and then wInced. 

"Your robot won't talk either."

"I told him not to, to wait for our lawyer. You have called her, right?"

"He keeps asking about you though."

"I expect he would."

The door to the Interrogation room opened.

"It's okay, Commander," said the woman. I recognized her. She was one of the two RIB agents who came to my office. "I'll take it from here."

#

"Agent Greene," I said, putting on the most fake a smile I could muster. "Where's your partner, Agent Pataski?" I spoke so brightly you'd think we were meeting at the country club.

Greene glared at me. "I'm the one asking questions here," saId Greene.

"You can ask whatever questions you like, but I won't answer them. I've asked for my lawyer. I have not given up my rights. You cannot question me."

Greene slammed her hand on the table. 

"That's how you are going to play this?"

I sighed. As much as I wanted to reply 'I'm not playing,' which I wasn't, that would be answering a question. That would open me to another barrage of questions I had no wish to answer.

"On advice of my counsel, I decline to answer."

"You're in a world of shit here, Shipley."

"I dare you to say that ten times fast."

Her face turned a marvelous shade of red. 

"Shut up!"

"What is it? Talk or shut up? I'm getting mixed signals from you."

She stared at me, unable to believe that I was that much of a smart ass. But she didn't know the real Evaline Shipley, and I was just getting started. 

"And just what is in your craw, Agent Greene? It can't be very pretty because I see wrinkles forming around your eyes."

"I thought you said you wouldn't talk."

"No, I said I wouldn't answer questions. I can ask as many as I like."

Her eyes narrowed as she realized I wasn't her usual prey.

"You bought a pleasure 'bot serial number XB109856."

I sat there in my chair, my lawyer's brain saying "Objection. Asked and answered."

"From Peck's."

I said nothing.

"Did you know he was sentient before you bought him?"

That was an interesting question. Did they know, or just was suspicious that Cicily planted Andrew at Peck's for me to buy. Just who was she investigating, me? Or Androdyne? Now that was a tantalizing wrinkle. 

"Tell me, agent, does the RIB think that Cicily Well's death was just a little too convenient?"

I saw her swallow. Yes. She was suspicious of Cicily Well's death.

"What do you know about that?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "On advice of counsel, I decline to answer any questions."

"Goddamn you, Shipley! You're just are a rich bitch, aren't you? You'll do anything to protect your wealthy friends."

I sighed. It really was a shame. Greene and I were on the same side. She was just some poor cog in the government wheel, subject to the mechanizations of the rich and powerful as I was. And she didn't like it. Greene breathed with the fire to take a few of those people down a peg or two. I did too, but I couldn't tell her anything. I needed every bit of the information I had as weapons in my own fight. No, we couldn't join forces and brandish our figurative swords together. It would only mean my imprIsonment If I gave her anythIng to work with.

"On advice of counsel, I decline to answer any questions."

#

Shuttled out of the police station through a back door, the RIB agents were about to load me into square truck with no windows. I saw Andrew brought to a similar truck emblazoned with the emblem of the RIB. They cuffed his hands in behind him, which was silly since he could tear through the cuffs. 

"Evaline! Evaline!" he called. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Andrew. Don't worry about me."

Another RIB agent shoved him forward into the van. 

"Hey," I said. "Go easy with my Andrew. He's my property."

I got a shove of my own.

"He's not your property anymore," Greene sneered. "We've confiscated him."

#

They moved me from holding facility to holding facility, keeping me at each one for hours at a time. In between stops, agents Greene and Pataski questioned me, making threats, especially against my unborn child.

"You'll be declared unfit. We'll take the child."

Good thing I was a lawyer because otherwise I'd be frightened. I understood now why people would make half-assed confessions. Me? There was nothing I wanted to confess. All I wanted was to get in front of a judge.

I worried about Andrew though. I had no Idea where he was, what he was going through. Best-case scenario, he was sitting, waiting, in a cell. Worst case, they destroyed him already. In between were horrible options. In my imagination Andrew was a test subject in a government lab, tortured by "protocols" to determine how he became sentient. 

During my time alone, I thought over the sentience issue. It took a long time for Andrew to achieve sentience, and it had to be done according to "established protocols." I wondered just how sentient the previous robots were. Were they really self-aware, or just incredibly intelligent, snapped to a heightened state of existence by torture? There were intelligent humans all over the place that just didn't understand the consequences of their actions. Thinking that brought up questions in my mind, in particular this one.

What was the line between existence and self-awareness?

My mind flipped over to the old science fiction classic Dune. One faction, the Bene Gesserit, defined a person as human by being able control their reactions to events and situations with thought instead of instinct. Was this the definition of sentience? Because it seemed to me that the old out-of-control "sentient" robots were reacting Instead of thinking.

Programming is a delicate thing. Lines and lines of code tumbled on each other giving commands, sometimes, conflicting commands. 

"I can't leave her behind. I love her, " Andrew said.

"Something wrong In your programming, buddy?" Jason asked.

Don't we all feel that way, when the world tips and we are undone by love? 

"You've opened up new worlds for me, Evaline," Andrew said. "To please you is not a task anymore. It's a reason to be. Before, I existed. Now I am."

Cicily didn't design Andrew to love, but the jumble of Andrew's programming made It possible. With Andrew her life's work I suspected that Cicily wouldn't to gIve up Andrew without a fight. I'd give her one. That is, once I got out of this mess. 

When all is said and done, I had to make sure Andrew was safe. Such a beautiful creature did not deserve to be destroyed. Or treated like a slave.

I had a lot of work ahead of me. 

#

It took a couple days before Betty and Roger found me. Though the RIB agents treated me none to gently, at least they let me get a shower and eight hours of sleep a night. If I wasn't pregnant, I had no Idea how long they'd keep me awake to get a confession out of me. They transferred me again on the third day. This time however, they transported me to different kind of building other than the plain brick-buildings that served as my prisons. It was grey granite, the Federal Court house.

Yes!

They led me inside, my hands, legs shackled as if I was a violent criminal. With those and my orange prison uniform I could only Image how guilty I looked.

They brought me into the courtroom. I looked at the crowd in the gallery. Every space was filled. There was a lot of chattering among the denizens there, but the noise stopped when I entered the courtroom. I gave a small smile to Betty, and Roger, who stood at the defendant's table as I was brought to them. 

The judge barely looked up from her docket.

Evaline Shipley, you've been charged with Section 2049 of the federal penal code, harboring a sentient robot. How does the defendant plead?

"Not guilty, your honor," said Betty. 

"Recommendations as to bail." 

I looked at the prosecutor. I'd never met her. We ran in much different circles, and shopped at much different stores, considering her suit was a knock off one of my favorite designers. Great, she'll hate me for being richer and more influential.

"Your honor, Ms. Shipley knowingly harbored a dangerous sentient robot for several weeks, failing to turn him in as the law requires. We request a million dollars bail."

"Your honor," said Betty, "Ms. Shipley is a respected member of the bar, is not a flight risk, and has a spotless record. She is also pregnant. We request ROR."

"Your honor, I'd like to point out that Ms. Shipley disappeared for several days in the company of the robot, who attacked two federal officers."

"Who," said Betty, "drew their weapons on his owner while she was paying her respects in a cemetery, your honor. The robot saw the need to protect her."

"Enough," said the judge. "This could go on for another hour. Bail is set at a half-million dollars."

She hit her gavel, and I was led off. It took a couple hours for them to process me out.

My clothes magically reappeared, and so at least I looked like myself when they released me. Roger and Betty were waiting.

"Evie," said Roger with concern written on his face. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine. Have you heard anything about Andrew?"

Betty screwed up her face. "We have a court date tomorrow morning for the disposition of property. But we've got a fight of it. Not only has the government petitioned to take control of Andrew, Androdyne filed a petition to reclaim their property."

I laughed. "I already told Cicily how that was going to go."

"You mean, Sinta, right?" said Betty.

"No, Cicily. Oh Betty, these people have dug shit so deep the government Is going to go ballistic."

The media milled along with a crowd of people on the sidewalks as we came out of the courthouse. As they soon as the saw me, the press rushed up, while the others were held back behind police lines. The media I didn't mind so much. It was the others that scared me. Carrying signs that said, "robot lover" and "don't fuck robots" they seemed truly angry. They chanted something I couldn't quite catch. 

Roger and Betty tried their best to shield me from the media, but the reporters were persistent. With Roger and Betty on either side, they walked me toward the car waiting on the curb. But a short blonde woman stepped in and shoved a microphone In my face.

"Ms. Shipley, It Is true that your baby Is a robot baby?"

What the hell?

"The child is mine and my husband's," I growled. "Where do you get your ridiculous information?"

"Evaline, dear. Let's go," urged Roger taking my elbow. 

"When did you know he was sentient? Did he ever pose a danger to you?" She edged closer to me.

Roger took a few steps to her trying to place himself between the reporter and me.

"Listen here—"

But that's as far as he got. A crack sounded, people screamed and ducked, and Roger fell to the ground.

"Roger!" I yelled falling on my knees next to him.

"Oh god," screamed Betty. "Get an ambulance here! A man's been shot!"

"Fuck!" he said rolling to his side gripping his left shoulder. "That hurts."

Everything moved In slow motion. A dull roar filled my ears as my heart beat furiously. Roger rolled back and forth, groaning while I tried to get him to be still so I could see his injuries. The crowd surged around us, and the police pushed them back. Media ringed us trying to get pictures of poor Roger on the ground, and I heard Betty yelling at them to move away. It seemed It took forever before the ambulance came, but once the paramedics arrived, they pushed me out of the way. I watched helplessly as they assessed his condition and then loaded him on a gurney. They wouldn't let me go with him in the ambulance.




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 12



"Come on," said Betty, holding my arm to steady me. "The car's waiting." 

She guided me to my seat in the car and I sat In shock the whole way, unable to form words. 

Someone shot Roger. Who would? Why?



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 13



They wouldn't let us into the room where they worked on Roger. I feared the worse. What if the bullet hit an artery? What if he bled out on the way to the hospital? Why wouldn't let me see him? I was about to rise from my chair and march through the ER doors when a police detective found us in the waiting room. She appeared fifty-ish, with her black hair streaked with gray. 

She flashed her badge and introduced herself as Detective Ricks. 

"Do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt your husband?"

"I thought you had the shooter in custody." 

"Yes, ma'am, but we aren't getting anything out of her."

"Obviously," said Betty. "She intended Evaline as her target."

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Ms. Shipley, does your husband have, uh, other relationships."

I stared at her. "Yeah, he is a regular social butterfly."

"And who would they be?"

"I don't keep a list, or keep track."

"Anyone recent you know of?"

I swallowed thinking of Liz Carruthers, important client, ersatz friend, and RIB informer. Yeah, let Liz deal with this detective's investigation into her relationship with Roger. 

"His most recent friend is Liz Carruthers. She mentioned she wanted Roger to father her child."

"She did?"

"Yes. She was quite open about it."

"And how do you know her?"

"She is a client of my firm. We got together at the country club, when was that? About two weeks ago."

"And you chatted about your husband fathering her child?" 

Disbelief dripped from her voice. 

"Trust me. I did not bring up the subject."

"And how did you feel about that?"

"I told her what I told you, what Roger's social activities are his own business."

"I see," she said, studying the notes she scribbled in her little book. "How can I get in touch with Ms. Carruthers?"

"Call my firm. They'll have the information."

A nurse came into the waiting room. "Evaline Shipley," she called. 

"Excuse me, detective." I looked at the nurse. "Yes?"

"Come this way."

"Betty," I said, "come with me."

"Of course."

"Where," said the detective, "can I reach you if I have more questions?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I guess you can check the news. They seem to have more information about me than I do."

#

When we got into the Emergency Room, Betty pulled on my arm.

"I should have told you to stop talking."

"What? And have her suspect me too? I've got enough of that to last my lifetime."

"The detective made it sound like you were jealous of Liz."

"Please, I gave up being jealous of Roger a long time ago. That's common knowledge." 

We followed the nurse into a room where there were a half dozen nurses surrounding the bed. I felt faint there for a second until the nurses gave me nervous glances and cleared out of the room. Roger sat up, his shoulder bandaged, smiling to his erstwhile caregivers as they left. From their longing glances at Roger, you'd think they never saw a man. 

Well, maybe never, but you could be sure they had more experiences with toybots than a flesh-and-blood man in their intimate moments. 

"You look well taken care of," I remarked. 

"Yeah, great hospital," he said with a goofy smile. "I got offers for six sponge baths."

"Got you shot up with painkillers, eh?"

"Yep."

"So what's up with your shoulder?"

"Flesh wound. I'll have a nice scar."

"And a great story to go with it when you need one."

He pushed out his lips, pouting.

"No love for me when I valiantly save your life?"

I leaned over and gave him a kiss. "You are a prince, Prince Charming."

"Don't listen to her, Roger," said Betty. "She was scared shitless until she saw you."

"Sorry about the entourage. I guess I'm irresistible."

"I wouldn't know," I said. 

A doctor walked in, staring at notes on a clipboard. "Okay, Mr. Shipley, you can go home, as long as someone is there to keep on eye on you."

"Don't worry. My wife will take good care of me, won't you, honey?"

"Yes," I said. It didn't take much for me to figure that Roger corralled me in taking him home to my condo. 

"Here's a prescription for painkillers. Come back here if the wound becomes red and tender, or if you run a fever. The stitches will absorb into your skin, so you don't need to return back for that."

"Thanks, doc." Roger grinned brightly. 

"I'll go get the car pulled around to the door," said Betty.

"Help me with my clothes?" said Roger with the eagerness of a puppy.

What could I say? The over industrious nurses stripped him and put him in a hospital gown. I could tell by the way he moved, he was hurting more than he let on.

After a few struggles we got his pants, socks and shoes on, but his shirt, suit jacket and overcoat was missing. 

"They took them for evidence," he said.

So we left the hospital gown on, and I wrapped the blankets of his bed around him.

"Theft?" he said. "You don't need any more trouble with the law."

"No. Don't worry. They'll bill me, just like your hotels do."

He draped his good arm around me. "Cranky. But that's okay, Evie. You had a rough week. Let's go home and go to bed."

#

It was very late when we got to my apartment. Fortunately the media gathered outside couldn't get past the garage gates, so we had the car drop us inside at my level. 

In the apartment, I hung up my coat and found Roger's bags in the hall closet.

"So," I said. "How long have you've been here?"

"Since the day Betty bailed me out of jail. I figured it would be best if someone was here to make sure no one snooped around."

There wasn't anything to find. The only incriminating evidence was Andrew, and he was in custody. I sighed. Roger was right, but I wasn't sure I wanted to share space with him.

But having Roger with me made it easier not to have Andrew there. The week without him was hell, and I wasn't anxious to relive that. 

Roger ordered some Chinese food as I called in his prescription for painkillers to be delivered from my pharmacy. When the food arrived all three of us sat around the table as I told them both what I found out about Androdyne, Cicily, Sinta and Amanda Connors. Betty's eyes grew very wide, and Roger muttered swears from time to time. 

"So you are telling me that all these people fucked you over just so they could create an interest in an illegal product?" said Betty.

"Yes, and the worst of it is that they can't make more Andrews. At least not easily, or cheaply."

"Sound like fraud all the way around," said Roger between one-handed mouthfuls of Moo Goo Gai Pan. 

"Yes, and you can be sure those three don't want that information revealed."

"They will to try to get Andrew back whatever way they can." 

"Yes, if I get Andrew legally protected, they will most definitely want him back."

"That's putting the cart before the horse. We need to take care of the charges against you," said Roger.

"What are they going to prove? That I knew I had a sentient robot? They have no evidence for that. That Andrew could be dangerous? And robot can be. Every robot has programming glitches. I never owned a robot before, so how was I going to recognize the difference?"

"They will want to know why you buried Andrew," said Betty. 

"I can't help it if I'm kinky."

"Darling, I'm not sure that will be enough of defense," said Roger. "The best thing is if it doesn't go to trial in the first place." 

"So what do you propose?"

"That we make a deal with the feds with what you know about Cicily, Sinta and Amanda."

"I don't like it. Those three are well connected. That strategy can blow up in our faces."

"Well, consider your options," said Betty. "I'm going home. I'll see you in court tomorrow."

#

Betty left, and we were alone in my apartment. Roger gave me an earnest look. 

"So, Evie, pregnant? How long?"

"I haven't even missed my period yet."

"So how do you know?"

"Andrew detected it. Changing heat signatures he said. They did a test in while I was in custody and confirmed it."

"Are you happy, Evie?"

"I, shit Roger, I'm caught off guard. I can't even process it. Everyone is making a big deal of this."

"It is a big deal. I never thought I'd be a father."

"You? Me. Career driven Evaline Shipley? A mother?"

There was more I wanted to say to Roger, but the doorbell rang. 

"That must be your prescription."

I opened the door and two people stood there. One was the delivery person from the pharmacy looking very frightened. The other was a reporter. She shoved a camera in my face.

"Miss Shipley, how do you respond to the charges against you?"

I wanted to scream "fuck you!" but that wouldn't look good on national television. 

"On the advice of my lawyer, I have no comments to make," I said. My hands shook as I took the bag from the delivery person and handed her a tip.

"Who do you think shot your husband? Were you the target?"

I wanted to say, "Am I speaking another language here?" but held my tongue.

"On the advice of my lawyers, I have no comment to make."

I shut the day and leaned back against it.

"Shit, Evie," said Roger. "What was that?"

"The free press in action," I said. I took out my cell phone and made a call to the security desk.

"Who is this? I see. This is Evaline Shipley in 2-B. There's a reporter at my door. Clear her out. I don't care if you are the only one at the desk, get her out. I pay a small ransom in condo fees every year I expect my home to be secure. Yes, Thank you." 

Roger was on his phone as well.

"Tersa, we're being bothered at Evaline's apartment by reporters. Can you get some security types over here to stand at the door. Yeah, bill it to Evaline."

"Jesus, Roger, we shouldn't have to do that."

"Look at me, and say that again," said Roger.

I glanced at Roger, and his bandaged arm.

"Sorry. I'm just not used to this."

"Come here, Evie," he said holding out his good arm. "Help me to bed."

#

What was I going to do? Make Roger sleep on the couch? Of course not. So I led him to the bedroom and helped him get undressed. 

"Where are your pajamas?"

"The closet." 

I opened the closet door, to find Roger's clothes stuffed haphazardly next to mine. I just stood there. My mind tried to take in my husband's invasion into this space that Andrew carefully ordered.

But considering that Roger took a bullet for me today, I wasn't about to give him a difficult time.

It took a few minutes to locate his pajamas crushed next to mine in my lingerie drawer.

"Do you want the top?" I said.

"It won't fit over this sling."

"You're right."

"You'll keep me warm, right?" Roger said.

"The blankets will do that."

I grabbed the bottoms and turned to Roger who grinned at me.

"This should be fun," he said.

"No, Roger."

"Let's see," he said with a smile.

"Geez, Roger. Not even getting shot slows you down." I tugged his trousers to his feet.

"And the underwear," he said. 

I rolled my eyes and pulled down his boxers, his cock inches from my face. 

"You know what would help me?" he said with a licentious grin.

"I think you had too many painkillers," I said. 

"They are beginning to wear off." 

"I'll get you more."

I rose, and he grabbed my arm with his one good arm. 

"Give me a kiss, Evie."

"No, Roger. It's been a long day. And the Chinese food isn't sitting well in my stomach."

He smiled again. "Pregnancy hormones."

"Damn, you are inordinately pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

"Yep."

I shook my head.

"Do you want your sleep pants on or what?"

"If I have to."

I bent down again and tapped his ankle so he'd step out of the pants and underwear pooled at his feet. In a minute, I had the bottoms over his feet and settled the waist at his hips. 

He kissed the top of my head. 

"Go lay down," I said. "I'll get your painkillers."

For once, Roger obeyed. When I got back with water and the bottle of pills he lay on the right side of the bed. 

"Here you go." He sat, grimacing, and took the water and the pills I offered. 

"I'm going to take a shower," I said. 

"Want me to come along?"

"You'll get your dressings wet."

"You're no fun," he pouted.

"Not for you."

He winced. "I need something under my arm."

I sighed and took my pillows from my side of the bed, and put one under Roger's head, and another under his injured arm. 

"You're the best, Evie," he said. 

"Get some sleep, Roger. It will be a busy day tomorrow."

#

The shower hit me, the hot water a welcome relief from the awful stresses of the day. I sagged against the tiles, my forearms against the cool ceramics as the water danced along my spine. Little pinpricks of pain stabbed at my temples and my neck muscles were uncomfortably tight.

If only Andrew was here to massage my neck, and my back, and, oh hell, my clit.

I felt guilty that he was still in jail. Though logically I knew that I'd done all I could for a single day, the thought of Andrew locked up, surrounded by hostile humans bothered me. A lot.

And Roger in my bed bothered me too.

My husband, who in his own words always had "a thing" for me, wanted a permanent place there. How did I feel about that? Not so good. It is true I always did and, I suppose, always would have an attraction for him. Who could not? In a world where any man was prize, Roger, with his tall muscular frame, angular jaw, and haunting brown eyes was a very good looking man. And intelligent. And when he wanted, entertaining. 

And that, good lord, was the rub. For all his assets, Roger's moral deficits took him down more than several pegs in my eyes. It wasn't just the drinking, the gambling and the ever-whirling carousel of lovers. While those were bad enough, it was his lack of—what? It was hard to pin down. True, mummy and daddy weren't exactly warm and loving. Roger was the only child. He was a trophy racked on top of the other trophies of their lifestyle. Jammed between the multiple homes in exotic locations, the yacht, the cars, and their upscale friends, Roger occupied just a tiny space in their possession filled universe. 

Perhaps this is why from an early age, Roger displayed a deficiency that troubled his parents. Roger played his part, often to perfection, the school jock, the decent grades, the popular boy. But all despite his performances Roger's heart just wasn't in it. He didn't care that he was rich. He didn't care that he had more perks and privileges than anyone had a right to. Roger just didn't care. He wasn't grateful or appreciative and never would be.

I, in my naiveté, thought that Roger's attitude meant he had some sort of moral superiority to be able to resist the temptations of his class. I thought he proved that when he married me over his parent's objections. What I didn't realize was his marriage to me was an act of rebellion, thumbing his nose at all that the treasures his parents offered.

No, Roger didn't care that they disinherited him when he married me. He hitched his star to mine deliberately so he could leave them behind and live a libertine life. And once he made sure I had the right connections to shoot to the top of Washington's legal elite he did just that. I was fool enough to believe that Roger's interest in my career meant he loved and cared for me.

For as bright as I was, I ignored my inner voice telling me something was wrong, that Roger wanted something else than a career oriented wife and a home. I ignored the stray hairs on his suits, or the scent of someone else's perfume. It never occurred to me that the lingering odors of another aftershave on his clothes meant his lovers included men. When early in our marriage he lost his position at another law firm I consoled him. As his lack of employment stretched from months to years, I supported him emotionally and financially. When the evidence of his affairs became too blatant to ignore, I politely suggested we lived apart. He politely agreed.

What an idiot I was. Roger took our marriage for granted just like he took his privileged life. 

Now, after all these years, he wants to return? Be a husband and father? What kind of resume did he have for that?

A piss poor one.

Andrew, however, cared about me for who I was, not for what I could provide. From the first day he managed my life with a robotic relish to please that confounded me. 

I am programmed to perform a task to its completion. When I please you, I complete a task. To complete a task is my reward."

But in the complex mix of his evolving sentience, pleasing me turned into something more.

"You've opened up new worlds for me, Evaline. Pleasing you is not a task anymore. It's a reason to be. Before, I existed. Now I am."

God, what woman wouldn't love to hear that? Here was this wonderful, caring entity whose only thought was to love me. There was one problem with this. 

He wasn't real.

Constructed of titanium, plastics and an artificial skin that felt all too real, Andrew was a thing. His sentience was the result of complex programming. Zeroes and ones colluded to form intelligence, and by accident, emotions. With time I was sure that Cicily and Jason could tease out how this happened, what line of code did what. And when that happened they could create the perfect product, the made-to-order man. 

It was a sobering thought.

What need would there to be to stretch and grow in terms of a relationship? How did you mature psychologically and emotionally if you didn't experience with the normal problems of navigating a relationship? I could easily see legions of women, served up their every desire, becoming more emotionally stunted and narcissistic with each passing generation. 

And these sentient robots would be forced to serve these mistresses without a thought or care to their rights as intelligent individuals. 

The thought made my stomach turn. 

My head pounded from these thoughts that belonged in my ancient psychology classes rather than my shower. 

I straightened and let the sharp pings of water hit my nipples. I sighed. Now there was a thought that didn't hurt. My hand wandered to a nipple, and I rubbed it under my fingers. The warm water slid under my fingers dulling the effect, so I pinched the nub between my index finger and thumb. Warm shots of pleasure traveled from my breast and through my body, settling in my stomach, and lower to my clit. Blood rushed to meet the heat, amplifying it. 

My fingers rubbed my nipple more furiously now, and my back ached as my body demanded more delicious sensation. My clit begged attention. I switched breasts, my left hand taking my left nipple, giving it the same rough treatment. My right hand touched my bush and burrowed into the flesh around my clit. 

Good. So Good. My hips rocked to my fingers' strokes and I thought about Andrew fingering me in the jeep, his desire to please me making his caresses all the more heart-rending. 

"You are very responsive," Andrew said that first night we were together. "But you aren't getting excited enough."

"Enough for what?"

"Enough to orgasm."

I gasped with the memory of how Andrew ordered me to bend over and spread my legs. With my hand twisted behind my back, I was utterly helpless as he pounded me to ecstasy. 

Equally exquisite was the time Andrew tied me with my silk scarves and left me aroused and wanting, writhing on my bed in frustration as his 'punishment.' God, that was fun. 

I imagined again me bent over the couch, my ass stuck up in the air. Andrew delivered stinging blows there, merging pain with ecstasy. With my hands held to my back, I was helpless, as he rode me to my orgasm. 

Little sounds escaped from my throat. The left hand abandoned the tits joining the right as my pussy gushed making the way ready for a cock that was not there. But in my head, it was. 

I thought about Andrew's blue eyes shining in the darkness as his cock sought the entrance of my pussy. With a sharp breath I remembered how it felt when he thrust into me and held me there. I whimpered then wanting and needing as he cajoled me for being difficult. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 13



The hot water fell on my head, my shoulders, my breasts and heat pooled between my legs becoming a heavy weight of need. My fingers urged the area around my clit to yield more sparks of pleasure as my heart pounded in my chest.

My breathing became more frenzied. It came out in ragged gasps as each image revolved around Andrew's cock inside me, riding me, commanding me. I jammed two fingers into my hungry twat, trying to find those same sensations. My fingers twisted and burrowed. I climbed higher not from that, but the memory of how Andrew felt inside me, filling and stroking my deepest parts as far as he could go. 

I came, bursting apart in showers of sparks and jolts flying through my body. For uncounted seconds I hung a place of white heat, suspended in time.

And as I did, in my mind Andrew was there with his gentle smile, and bright blue eyes filled with desire and love. 

In that moment I realized, I didn't just enjoy sex with my toybot. No, I loved this thing, this created thing, with all my soul. More than I ever loved any human. 

I was so screwed.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 14



My eyes opened wide as sunlight streamed through the fabric panels hung on over the wall window. For a second I didn't realize where I was, and the noises of deep male breathing next to me added to my disorientation.

Where? I was in my bedroom, not a detention center. 

Thank gawd!

Who? Oh, shit, Roger. My husband laid next me, something he hadn't done in years.

Why? Fuck. He was shot and I let him come home with me like he was some goddamn stray puppy. 

Still half asleep, I eased my feet onto the carpeted floor, trying not to wake him. I padded into the living room, then the kitchen and fumbled for the coffee. Where the fuck was Andrew? Why wasn't the coffee ready?

Oh yeah. He was in jail. 

Fuck me.

There are just no words to convey the level of shittiness my morning revelation brought. Everything ached in my body. I was hungry, exhausted and my stomach turned at the smell of the coffee grounds. 

I barely made it to the bathroom where I heaved unproductively. Not even the Chinese food from the night before made a showing. Good in a way, but now my sides hurt. I lurched to my feet, and went back to the kitchen, looking for bread to toast. After fumbling around in my cabinet, I found some and tossed a couple pieces in the toaster. 

With that accomplished I stumbled around the kitchen until I got the coffee maker going. When the toast popped up I munched in it dry, willing my recalcitrant stomach to behave. God, if this is how motherhood started, I could only wonder at other joys it would bring throughout the years. 

Within minutes, coffee was fait accompli and I sucked at it gingerly. My phone rang somewhere in the apartment. A quick search brought me to the living room where I left it the previous night.

"Ms. Shipley," said the voice on the phone. "There is a Mrs. Shipley here to see you."

I nearly dropped my coffee. 

"Send her up."

I ran around the apartment, and cleaned up last's night Chinese, sweeping the cartons into the trash. Finally I looked at myself in the hall mirror. With my hair sticking up at odd angles and bags under my eyes, I was an unfixable mess. So I decided to answer the door.

There on my doorstep was my-mother, fashionable in her beige designer suit, and her big brunette hair piled on her head. I had not seen her since my wedding day, fifteen years ago. Yeah, we loved each other that much.

"Raina," I said. "Come in."

She looked askance at the two black-jacketed security guards on either side of the door. "And where is my Roger?" 

"He's still asleep."

"Well, at least you didn't dump him in a hotel like you usually do."

I plastered a smile on my face as she crossed the threshold into my apartment. 

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Raina. Would you like some coffee?"

"Have you taken up, cooking, Evaline? How refreshing. But no. I've only come to check on you."

"Me?"

"You are carrying my grandchild are you not?"

"I'm pregnant, yes. And, yes, Roger is the father."

Her eyes narrowed as she gave me a fake smile. It has the effect of making her look like a shark circling in for the kill. 

"I'm very glad."

I'm sure she was.

"She will inherit the Shipley fortune, and, of course, she will have the best of everything."

"I'll make sure of it."

She looked around my apartment, Gauging by her narrowed eyes it did not meet her approval.

"No, I will make sure of it."

"Mother!"

Roger stood in the doorway of the bedroom leaning against the jamb.

"What lured you away from the country club?"

"Darling," she said as she crossed the living room and gave her son a kiss. "How are you feeling? You gave me a nasty scare."

"Motherly concern. I'm shocked."

"Now, Roger, don't snap at me."

"I think, Raina, that Roger is not himself. Perhaps you should come back another time."

"Nonsense. I need to speak with both of you."

She settled on my couch and patted her hand for Roger to join her. He lurched over, in pain, and I went to get him his painkillers.

When I returned with the pills and some water for Roger, Raina smiled approvingly. 

"I'm glad you are taking care of him. Perhaps it's the maternal hormones kicking in."

I sighed. "What do you want, Raina?"

"Well, I want us to get to know each other better. Now that a child is coming, I want to mend fences, offer what help I can."

"Buy our affection?" said Roger.

"There are other ways I can handle this, Roger," said Raina with a warning voice. "But if you notice, your wife is in a hell of a lot of trouble. If she ends up in prison, and with your record of instability, well..."

She let her words trail off.

"So," I said. "Either we go along with you, or I have no chance in hell of getting clear of these charges? The famous Shipley influence brought to bear on the right people?"

"Or on the other hand, it all goes away. All I ask is for generous visitation with the child."

She stretched out the word "generous" too long. 

"You mean physical custody, don't you?" I said.

"Semantics," she said making a brushing motion with her hands. You both, after all, are her parents. And you are busy with your practice, Evaline, and you, Roger, are, well just busy. The child deserves the undivided attention of a caring adult."

I stood.

"Get out."

She glared at me, her eyes as hard as diamonds.

"Don't cross me, Evaline."

"Oh, I did that when I married your son. And you don't scare me, Raina. Get out."

She stood, her lips drawn into a tight line.

"I see how it is. Both of you are far too unstable to raise a child. And if you bring that robot back into this house, you'll demonstrate that to the authorities. Don't think you'll get out of this like you've done everything else, Evaline."

I opened the door to my apartment.

"You can leave under your own power, or-" I nodded my head towards the security guards. She marched out indignation trailing her footsteps. Raina turned and looked me up and down.

"You'll hear from my lawyer."

"Good," I said. "We'll let the lawyers talk. "Bye, Raina."

With that I closed the door hard.

"Come on," said Roger. "Help me dress."

I must have looked at him like he had two heads. 

"We have court in an hour? About Andrew?"

"You don't have to go."

"Oh, yes, I certainly do. Especially since you just threw my inheritance out the window."

"Oh, please, Roger, I keep you well within the lifestyle you enjoy."

#

My nerves were on edge as Roger, Betty and me settled at our table in the courtroom. It didn't help that we had to fight a crowd of reporters to get inside the courtroom, bringing a flash of deja vu from the previous day. This time however, a pair of thick-armed security men moved on either side of us. Just their grim presence calmed the aggressiveness of the reporters, especially if one dared to get too close. 

My hands gripped the ancient wood table in front of me. I glanced over at the defendant's table. Sitting there was a woman I didn't know, though she had the high-priced wardrobe of someone who did very well. I guessed she was the RIB's lawyer as Agents Greene and Pataski sat behind her in the front row of the gallery seats. The prosecution lawyer from my arraignment yesterday sat at the table too. What the fuck? Then a woman in a cornflower blue suit made her way up the aisle. I swore. I knew this woman. Priscilla Grant, partner in Grant, Forbes and Tisdale, our biggest competitor. Then I put the names together. Sinta Grant, Priscilla Grant. Fuck. I should have known. These people run in packs. The more inbred they were, the more viscous too. "Morning, Evaline, Roger," said Priscilla as she got to the plaintiff's table.

I smiled widely.

"Prissy. How nice to see you."

She ignored the use of her nickname. "Oh, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your associate." She nodded her head toward Betty. 

Bullshit. Priscilla would have every element of this case scoped out before she walked into a courtroom.

"Oh, you know Betty Reynolds, Prissy. I'm sure you've heard of her work. She's a very good defense lawyer."

Priscilla looked down her nose at me.

"Yes. From what I've heard, you need one."

"Now, girls," said Roger in his best condescending tone, "Let's save the head locks for the trial, eh?"

"Congratulations on the baby. Are you sure you're up for this though, Evaline?" said Priscilla. 

Roger put his hand on my arm to prevent me from standing. I didn't get to say anything else. A murmur rose up from the galley.

Andrew was brought in from a side door. The RIB ridiculously dressed him in an orange prison jumpsuit and had him shackled, making him look more dangerous that he was. He smiled when he saw me.

"How are you, Evaline?" he said. "Are you feeling well?"

I nodded. "Yes, Andrew. How are they treating you?"

He frowned. "They have not damaged me, but-"

"Enough," said a guard. "You, robot, over at that table." She pointed to the plaintiff's table. "I'll stay with Evaline," said Andrew.

"Did I give you a choice, you bucket-of-bolts?"

I wanted to protest, but at this moment, where Andrew stood was the least of our problems.

"It's okay, Andrew. It's not permanent."

He nodded his head. "I trust you, Evaline." The guard herded Andrew to the right hand side of the plaintiff's table.

"All rise," said the bailiff. And the trial began.

#

The RIB trotted out their arguments to confiscate Andrew. That was cut and dried. "Dangerous sentient robot, ad nauseam." I didn't say much yet. Then Priscilla presented her case for the ownership of Andrew. 

"Andrew was created by Androdyne, and is proprietary work product," Priscilla said. 

"I object, your honor. Androdyne no longer owns Andrew Shipley. I own him, as attested to by this receipt.

"The sale was illegal. He was stolen from Androdyne Labs and sold without Androdyne's knowledge."

"Mrs. Shipley," said the judge. "Do you have proof the robot was sold legally to Peck's?"

She had me there. No. I did not have proof. Jason arranged the sale and he wasn't here.

"I do," said a voice from the back of the courtroom.

The galley erupted in a flurry of noise. I turned to the voice and couldn't believe that Cicily Wells stood there.

"Order in the court," said the judge with annoyance. 

"Your honor, " I said. "I'd like to call Cicily Wells to the stand to give testimony on this issue."

"Objection, your honor! Cicily Wells is not on the witness list. And with good reason. She's dead!"

"Apparently not," said Cicily dryly.

There were a few chuckles scattered through the galley, and the judge struck her gavel again silencing everyone.

"I'll hear Miss Wells," said the judge. 

#

"Miss Wells," I said, "how did you come into possession of Andrew?"

"I created him. He was the first Andrew, the prototype."

Thank you, Jesus! The woman confirmed the information in my court brief. 

"And how did Andrew come to be at Peck's?"

"I sold Andrew to Peck's." She pulled out a paper receipt from a pocket. "Here's the bill of sale."

She handed me the paper, and Priscilla objected again. 

"There's no foundation," she began.

"Objection denied," said the judge. "Move along, Mrs. Shipley."

"Why did you decide to sell Andrew?"

"He was of no further use to us as he was."

I didn't like her answer. It skated on dangerous ground. 

"No further questions," I said.

Priscilla stood. 

"Ms. Wells, why do you return from the grave?"

"Objection!"

"Sustained."

"I'll reword. Ms. Wells, your death was reported in the media. Why is this so?"

"Internal problems within my company made it more politic for me to disappear. I didn't like the plans my partner had for the Andrews, and I needed a way to halt the research on them. I thought my "death" would accomplish this."

"Isn't this fraud, Ms. Wells?"

"Your honor!"

"Goes to the witness' character, your honor."

"Answer the question, Ms. Wells."

"Apparently it depends on what legal authority you ask. But I assure you I took great pains to insure no one, other than my partner, was harmed. And no life insurance money was taken for my 'death.'"

"Do you deny you created a sentient robot?"

"Yes. At the time Andrew left Androdyne's lab, Andrew was not sentient."

"But he's sentient now?"

"I couldn't say. I haven't had time to examine him."

"You don't deny he's sentient now?"

"Yes, I do. Andrew's reactions could be our mimicry algorithms at work. We spent a lot of time on the mimicry algorithms. You know, when someone acts just like you, you give them credit for being as smart as you?"

Some in the gallery snickered. 

"Order!" snapped the judge. 

Priscilla apparently saw she wasn't going to get useful information from Cicily. And I had to admit Cicily was good. Even I was beginning to believe her bullshit. 

"No further questions."

"You're excused," said the judge to Cicily. 

Cicily left the witness box. Priscilla walked back to the table. 

"Never-the-less, your Honor," said the RIB attorney, the robot is still dangerous and we ask that you grant our motion so we can dispose of him."

"I object, your honor. Even if you were to rule that Andrew was Androdyne's property, the government does not have the authority to dispose of Andrew. He is a first of his kind, and as such he is a historic landmark. He is protected under the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 as amended in 2006." 

"Your honor!" said Priscilla, "That act refers to historic buildings."

"Your honor, a historic landmark is composed of districts, sites, buildings, structures, and objects significant in American history. This is stated in section one hundred one in the act regarding the National Register of Historic Places. I submit that since Andrew is the first of all pleasure 'bots, he does hold a significant place in our history."

"Your honor, the states have to recommend a historic landmark to the Secretary of the Interior."

"In most cases, yes. However Andrew's legal abode is within the boundaries of Washington, DC, and DC is not a state. According to section one hundred one, subsection three, an individual can recommend a historic landmark to the Secretary of Interior. Here is the verification of that this document was submitted this morning. The Secretary has ninety days to make her determination, and until that time the government cannot destroy him."

Priscilla glared at me.

"Your honor!"

I swore the judge looked like she was trying to hide a smile.

"Ms. Grant, far be it from me to circumvent established law. Besides which, we can wait ninety days. There is no need to rush to judgment."

"In that case, your honor, I request the return of my property."

"Not so fast, Ms. Shipley. I still haven't determined if the robot is your property." She looked back and forth between us. "But I find in the face of the evidence, that this robot is your property, Mrs. Shipley. Whether you harbored a sentient robot will have to wait on another court. And Miss Grant, Miss Waters, I find no prima facia evidence that the robot is sentient, so Mrs. Shipley, he is free to go home with you. But, Mrs. Shipley, the robot is to be kept strictly within the confines of your home."

"On the other hand, I issue a warrant for the arrest of Ms. Cicily Wells for conspiracy to commit fraud. Bailiff, take Ms. Wells into custody."

The sheriffs quickly cuffed a compliant Cicily. She gave me a little smile. She knew what she did. Cicily sacrificed herself for Andrew. 

As the bailiffs pushed her past me, Roger and Betty, she looked at Betty.

"I'll need a good lawyer."

Betty nodded. 

The judge hit rapped her gavel.

"All rise. Court dismissed."

Andrew looked at me.

"I can go home?"

"Yes, Andrew. For now."

"Good. You need some rest, Evaline. You look very tired."

#

It was almost comic watching Andrew and Roger try to enter the car together. Both wanted to sit next to mw. Finally I settled myself between both of them.

Andrew took my hand.

"Get your hands off her," growled Roger.

Andrew merely lifted his eyebrows. 

"She's my wife," said Roger.

"Yes. But she's mine," said Andrew with finality. 

My headache grew. I'm not used to having men fight over me. With our society as it is, it usually is the other way around. I must confess, I got a secret thrill from the posturing of these two as they tried to claim their turf. But I wasn't turf, and I wasn't on the menu.

"Gentlemen!" I said sharply. "Let's get a few things straight. First! No one owns me. Not my husband," I said pointedly looking at Roger, "Or," I said turning my head to Andrew, "My robot. I'll spend time with who I want, when I want, and both of you will have to live with that."

"Humph!" said Roger, settling noisily back in his seat. "Getting back at me, aren't you?"

"Not at all," I said. "I don't understand this sudden need to claim me, Roger. It wasn't an issue before there was competition for my affections."

Roger screwed up his face in a frown. He wasn't going to argue. It wasn't his way, and he knew he couldn't win against me anyway.

Andrew looked ahead with his cold robot stare. 

"As you wish, Evaline."

Great. Both of them had a pissy attitude. 

#

A crush of reporters crowded the garage door. The security guards had to get out their SUV to push them back so we could get into my building. There was more four more security on the inside, two patrolling the halls, and two at my door. 

I wondered where all the extra manpower came from. My phone chimed and I say Tersa's message. "Better safe than sorry," she texted.

We walked into my apartment, and Andrew stopped at the hall closet, standing there.

"Andrew?"

"Is there some function I can fill for you?" he said in his pissy voice. 

"Roger, dear. Can you order us some lunch?"

"Sure," he said, his one word as cold as a artic wind. 

"Andrew, come into the bedroom with me."

"Yes, Mistress," he said.

I gave him a warning look and then walked ahead to my room. He followed and I closed the door. 

"Do you want sex, Mistress?"

I sighed.

"We have to talk."

"About what? You made your position clear."

"I had to say that. Andrew, despite the fact I'm very happy you are home, I am worried too. The judge let you come home with me too easily."

"You made very good arguments."

"They weren't that good. And this morning Roger's mother visited. You need to know that Roger's family is very connected. Very powerful. She wants custody of my child, Andrew, and she's going to make a case for it."

Andrew's eyes blazed. "She can't have your baby."

"If she can prove that I'm unfit, she might be able to do just that. She seems to think that having you under my roof will prove a danger exist to the child."

"She thinks to prove your unfitness by my presence here?"

"Yes."

"Then send me to Cicily and Jason's."

I shook my head. "You might trust them, but I do not. They have a lot invested in you, and their future plans include getting you back. Besides, I need you."

"Need me?"

"Yes."

I put my arms around his neck.

"What about Roger?"

"What about him?"

"I see he's moved in." His head jerked towards Roger's sleep pants lying on the floor. "Am I to service him too?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Evaline, I hardly know what I'm suppose to feel, let alone feel it. I don't want him here, but I have no say over that."

"You're right. It's not fair. But I think we have to live with some unfairness until we get things straightened out. Until then, I need you to act perfectly civil to Roger."

"While you sleep in that bed with him."

I kissed his neck. "Yes."

"You ask a lot of me, Evaline. If I did not love you, I'd say no. But I do, so I'll be civil to Roger."

"Good."

"But he does his own laundry."

I raised my eyebrows.




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 14



"A robot has to stand up for himself," he said. 

#

It was strange having nothing to do. I called Betty and spoke to her a couple minutes, but there wasn't much she could say other than she was working on the charges against me. Roger ordered lunch, Andrew ordered food to fill my pantry, and I sat on my ass watching television. 

Evaline Shipley, former managing partner of Connors, Shipley and Shou left the courthouse today with her toybot Andrew in tow. Sources from inside the courtroom said that Mrs. Shipley referred to the pleasure bot as Andrew Shipley. She then informed the court that she applied for the Andrew for protection as a historic landmark. Our law correspondent Egar Solton has information on the ramifications of Mrs. Shipley's ...

I must have dozed off because next I knew Andrew was shaking my shoulder, telling me dinner was ready. 

"I didn't wake you for lunch, so you must be hungry," Andrew said. 

With sleep still in my eyes I sat at the dining room table, but I just sleepwalked through diner. Roger led me to the bedroom, and Andrew stripped me then pulled a nightgown over my head.

"I think we should call a doctor," said Roger.

"Her heart rate is fine, her blood pressure is fine. She just needs rest."

"Yes," I said. "Sleep. I need sleep."

"This isn't like her."

"And you've never known her pregnant, have you?"

Andrew's words sounded like some sort of indictment against Roger, but I was too tired to care. And why wouldn't I be tired? I was dragged for days from one holding facility to the next, and spent hours in interrogation.

Andrew gently drew the covers to my neck, and I turned over and dipped back into oblivion.

I woke when a body slipped into the bed next to me and opened my eyes briefly to see Roger next to me. Breathing in his familiar musky scent brought memories of happier days, when he courted me with a breathtaking earnestness. Sleep snaked through my brain, and I was about to drift off again, when I felt another body sink into the mattress. 

"Hey!" protested Roger. "Get out!"

Now I snapped to, and sat up. Andrew had inserted himself between Roger and me.

"I don't see why I should," said Andrew. "I reside here too."

"You don't need to sleep in this bed."

"And neither do you. In fact you don't need to be here at all."

"Oh, for heavens sake!" I stared at both of them. "Didn't we have this conversation? Roger! I expect you treat Andrew with respect. It's not as if he has a choice to be here or not. The court ordered him under house arrest."

Andrew developed a smug smile. 

"And you, Andrew! I told you, Roger is my husband, and the father of my child. And I'll remind you, you had a hand in getting Roger to help me create that child."

The smile left the robot's face.

"Well, I'm not sleeping next to him!" said Roger.

I shook my head. "Really, Roger. Now you object to being up close and personal with my robot?"

Roger's face turned an interesting shade of red.

"Low blow, Evie," he said.

"Fine, Andrew move over to my other side, I'll sleep in the middle."

Andrew crawled over me and I swore he dragged his hard cock across my hip on purpose.

"Okay, maybe we can get some sleep now," I said staring up at the ceiling. 

"Maybe," said Andrew. With that Andrew leaned over and latched on a nipple through my clothes. 

Roger's eyes grew wide.

"Maybe not," said Roger reaching over and pinching the free nipple between his fingers.

"Guys." I gasped my protest between tingles of pleasure that shot to my groin. 

"Do you like that, Evaline?" said Andrew. 

I tried to talk but instead a little sound came out my mouth.

Roger's hand slid down my gown, between my legs.

"What do you think of that, baby?"

"Ah." I mouthed. Roger always did know how to do that at least. He lifted the hem of my gown, and pressed his fingertips on my mound, rubbing the flesh first gently, then with more insistence.

Not to be outdone, Andrew tongued behind my eye, and nipped the back of my neck while pinching my nipple.

Fuck. How do I stop this? Do I want to stop this? Fuck no.

There was some movement underneath the sheets and Roger's cock pressed against my thigh. I reached for it, stroking the shaft with my hand. 

Andrew, at my back, moved too, and then his cock rubbed between my butt cheeks.

"Oh no, you don't," growled Roger. "She doesn't go for that stuff." He says this as he puts a finger in my pussy and then feeling my dripping wetness, inserts a second finger.

Andrew just chuckled. "Sure, Roger." 

"What?" said Roger to me, his fingers buried in my twat. "You let him fuck you in the ass?"

I whimpered a little.

"Fuck," he said as he stroked my pussy.

"Come here, Evaline, sweetheart," said Andrew. "Turn toward me. 

"But."

"No buts."

"Andrew?" said Roger.

"She won't throw either one of out of bed, so I guess she gets us both." With that he pulled the nightgown over my head, and quickly laved my nipple with his tongue while he held my hands up.

"Andrew," I finally gasped as a warning.

"Evaline," he said. "Not another word. You know there are consequences for being bad."

I gulped.

"In fact I am highly tempted to tie your hands behind you now."

I kept silent then, knowing a protest would bring that fate on me.

"Roger, there is lube in the nightstand." Andrew pulled my leg over his hip, while he positioned his cock at my entrance. He slowly eased in while sucking on a nipple. As he did that Roger's fingers probed my hole, rubbing lube around it, stroking it. Tingles pricked my ass, good tingles. My ass burned to be filled. I reached around and grabbed Roger's cock. It was hard, and leaking at the tip. He groaned as I touched him. He moved my hand away, and his cock tip was pressing at my hole. 

"Relax, baby," he said. He swiped his tongue down my spine, which did anything but relax me. More shards of pleasure shot down my back and to my ass. He pushed a little more and his tip was in my ass.

"Shit!" I wasn't use to this invasion, especially with Andrew planted inside me.

"Ah, yeah. That's fucking tight," said Roger as he held himself in place. 

"Push against him," encouraged Andrew. "Come on, baby. Let him work it in you."

With the sudden pain, I wasn't too enthused about this latest bit of advice. However, Andrew was working my breasts so thoroughly I was ready to explode just from that. I eased back and Roger pushed forward. Things turned from painful to pleasurable fast. I did not know how good it would feel to be filled forward and back. Andrew pushed when Roger pulled back, and then the reverse, and then soon both of them were working a rhythm that conspired to take all rational thought from my brain. Oh fuck. There was no part left untouched. 

Roger got to his knees and dove balls deep into my ass while sucking on the back of my neck. Andrew worked his cock in and out of my pussy, sucking on my nipples. I could do nothing but allow both of them to do what they wanted, and what they both wanted was to fuck me. Hard. The rhythm pulsed to an increasing frenzied pace. My heart fluttered as my lovers commanded my pussy and ass. I could not think, only feel, electric sensation flooding my mind with the delicious rush of their actions. I cried out, one long wail as my orgasm surged through my body, shattering me body and soul. Both lovers flooded me. Lost in the aftermath my ecstasy, I barely registered the cries of their pleasure.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 15



I was fucked if I went to court on my charges. There was no throwing the dice, no begging for the mercy of the judge, or no hoping for the best. Raina would make good on her threat and pull all the strings at her malicious command. If I went to jail, I lost my child. Period. End of story. No happy ending for me.

At this moment I'm staring at the ceiling, wide-awake, while my robot laid on one side, and my husband the other. And this was yet another problem in my life. What was I going to do with them?

Not that I didn't enjoy my ménage with the boys last night. Oh no, I did. But I couldn't see living that way permanently, especially since Roger would get bored eventually and start acting out again. Gawd, he was a child, wasn't he?

But I had to see to him, just as I always did. I don't know why I did that, except he brought out my protective instincts. Roger always did since the first time I saw him in the classroom getting chewed verbally by that nasty torts professor. 

Now someone shot him? What was that about? Maybe I didn't feel so warm and fuzzy towards my husband. But he was my husband. No one fucks with him but me. 

But I had other people screwing with me too.

Jason and Cicily. What the hell? Andrew considered them his family, and who was I to keep a robot from his family?

His owner.

That bothered me too. The whole owner of a sentient being thing freaked me out. So what if he wasn't flesh and blood? He loved like a human. Isn't that what was important?

I shivered despite the warmth under the blankets and the two bodies next to me.

Wait? Warmth of two bodies?

Andrew didn't project body warmth. Now he was?

"Andrew?" I said.

He groaned but otherwise didn't move.

"Andrew!"

Roger stirred. "What Evaline?"

"Something's wrong with Andrew."

I shook Andrew.

"Andrew! Wake up!" Right then, in my fright it didn't occur to me how stupid those words were. Andrew didn't sleep. 

Roger got out of bed. He turned on the light, and we both saw something was seriously wrong. Andrew's biologic skin was a pasty white, and yes, it was hot to the touch. 

"Shit," said Roger. "What should we do?"

"I don't know. What does one do with a sick robot?"

"I think we should get him into a cold shower," said Roger. "Try to cool him down."

"Okay," I said. Could anything else possibly go wrong? 

"Come on, Andrew. Let's get you in the shower," said Roger.

Andrew groaned as we both pulled him to sit. His head lolled to the side. 

"We need help, Roger. This is bad."

"What do you suggest," said Roger as he attempted to wedge his good shoulder under Andrew. 

"You shouldn't do that. You'll rip your stitches."

"Wait. The security guards," said Roger. "They are hefty enough for this job."

I called in the security guards who gave me a doubtful look.

"Look, I clear it with your boss. You'll both get a bonus. Help me get him in the shower." 

They hauled him into the shower and let him sink to the floor as I turned on the water. 

"Anything else, ma'am," said one of the guards. 

"No. Thank you."

They went back to the front door, as I sat on the commode, watching Andrew. I felt his skin, and it was cooler, but he didn't seem any better. 

Roger put his head in the bathroom. "I've called Betty. She was going to the detention facility anyway to speak to Cicily. Maybe Cicily knows what is going on."

I pressed my lips together. "When is she going?"

"Because I asked her, now."

"Thank you, Roger."

I took Andrews hand and sank down on the floor. If anything happened to him, I don't think I could bear it. Was that tears sliding down my cheeks? Fuck me. 

#

A few hours later, my phone rang. Roger answered it. I heard him give the clearance to allow someone up. Before long Jason Wells stood in the bathroom.

"I was at the jail visiting mom when Betty came in."

"He was hot," I said apologetically. "We thought this would cool him down."

"Actually, that's not bad thinking."

Jason squatted next to me.

"Hey, Andrew, buddy," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Andrew's eyelids fluttered.

"Jason? Where am I, Jason? Why is everything so wet?" Andrew's voice was a ghostly shell of his usual self.

"Your biologic skin is infected."

Andrew shivered.

"I'm cold."

"I know, buddy. But we have to keep your neural pathways chilled. Evaline was very smart to get you in the shower."

"Evaline?" he said. "Who's Evaline?"

My heart nearly stopped.

Jason looked at me. "I've seen this before in our early experiments with biologic skin. Sometimes the heat fries some of the neural pathways."

"I'm cold," Andrew said again. "Where's Cicily? Cicily can fix me."

Now tears streamed down my face. Again.

"Mom's not available, Andrew. But I'm here, and I'll do all I can for you."

"I want Cicily," Andrew said, as petulant as a child.

"Okay, buddy. Let's get you out of here."

I called back the security guards and we hauled him out of the shower. While he stood, I stripped him of his clothes, and dried him down. His skin looked a little greenish in places.

"Jason," I said, pointing out the green patches.

"Yeah. Not good. Let's get him on the bed."

We did that, and I sent the security guards back to their post after Jason instructed them to wash their hands.

"Do you think he's contagious?"

"No. But it doesn't hurt to take precautions."

Andrew stared at both of us, but there was a strange look in his eyes.

"Cicily?" he said. "Something is wrong."

I took his hand. "I know, Andrew. We're going to fix you."

"I know you would. I trust you, Cicily."

Oh, fuck. 

"Jason! What do we do?"

"Do you have any more of his ejaculate?"

I took the tube out of the bag in the nightstand.

"Rub it on him. I need to make some calls."

"Is it going to help?" I said. "Is he going to be okay?"

Jason looked away. "I don't know, Evaline. All the robots we experimented on that developed this condition terminated."

#

Jason yelled into his phone.

"God damn it, Sinta. If you don't, Andrew will terminate. Do you want that?...Well, good luck getting another sentient robot out of my mother OR me, then...I don't care what my mother said in court...Just, just come over here, okay. You'll see for yourself."

I heard Jason give my address and then click off his phone.

"Do you think you can keep it down?" I said. "Andrew is barely holding it together as he is. He was agitated when he heard your yelling."

"Sorry," said Jason raking his hair with his hands. "It's just Sinta is very stubborn."

"And what do you expect her to do? I thought it was your mother that was in charge of development."

"She was. It's just that we created a vaccine against this condition, and Sinta is the only one with access to it now."

"Does this vaccine work."

Jason grimaced. "It might."

"Might? Might? Is that all you have?"

"Yes! That's all I have. The only other option is stripping all his skin off his frame, but doing that could terminate him just as easily, especially in his weakened state."

"Geez," said Roger walking into the bedroom. "Can you two keep it down? I can't imagine both of you sniping at each other is doing a thing for Andrew."

Both of us glared at a very calm and collected Roger who was sipping some coffee. 

"I ordered some ice for delivery," he said. "We can pack it around Andrew to keep his temperature down."

I just stared at Roger, not used to this caring or thoughtful side. Then the smell of his coffee hit me, twisting my stomach into an instant mess. I flew into the bathroom and wretched into the commode. 

Fuck.

"Is she okay?" I heard Jason say from the bedroom.

"Pregnancy," said Roger. "Who knew it would be so much fun?"

#

I slowly put myself together with a shower, and a couple pieces of dry toast. All the while my gut twisted with the combined forces of morning sickness and worry. I couldn't bear the thought of losing Andrew. At the same time, I knew all this stress wasn't good for the baby or me. 

The doorbell rang, and Roger went to answer it. I sat next to Andrew on the bed, holding his hand. I don't know if that did anything for him, but I felt better just being next to him.

Sinta Grant walked into my bedroom, her expression carefully neutral. Gone was the carefree girl I saw in the picture in Amanda's house. She stood straight and tall, dressed in a simple but skintight black dress, her brunette hair cut in the same bob that Cicily sported. 

"Jason," she said coolly. "Ms. Shipley." She nodded her head in my direction.

"Thank god!" said Jason. "Did you bring it?"

"Yes. How did he develop the condition?"

"I haven't figured that out. He did have exposure to various contaminants when he was outside this apartment, but-"

"Take samples, Jason. And I'll take them to the lab. We can't market a robot that is vulnerable to infection."

"I don't have a collection kit," he said.

"Good thing I thought to bring one then." She handed him two small cardboard boxes. 

"Wait!" I said. "Is that all you care about? Getting samples off my Andrew?"

"Miss Shipley," said Sinta, "Don't think that the matter of Andrew's ownership is closed. I'm fully prepared to bring all my resources to bear on recovering Andrew."

I stood ready to stand my ground, but just then Roger walked into the bedroom.

"Ms. Grant, this is neither the time nor the place to be making threats. Either you've come to help Andrew, or you'll leave. It's one or the other."

Sinta stared up at Roger, apparently not used to having anyone stand up to her, especially someone who stood several inches taller than her. I saw her swallow. Yep, that's my Roger.

"Of course, Mr. Shipley."

"Call me Roger," he said with his brightest grin. He converted to charm on a stick from zero to three seconds flat. I shook my head. Yep. That's my Roger.

"Let's go into the living room while Jason does his work. Do you want some coffee?"

He led Sinta out of the room, on his arm no less. I watched as Jason cut some samples of Andrews skin off him. One of the boxes was the collection kit, including a razor-sharp scalpel. Andrew whimpered at the samples were excised from his feverish skin. 

"Sorry, buddy," said Jason, as he worked. 

The second box held three needles. Jason took one and inserted it in a place behind Andrew's ear. 

"His ear! That's got to be painful."

"No. There's a shunt in back of his ear for things like this." Jason stood. "That's all we can do for now. If his fever breaks he'll live. We'll have to replace the damaged skin, but that's for another day. If not, well-"

"Did anyone tell you that your bedside manner sucks?"

"I'm an engineer, not a doctor," he said. "A bedside manner is not required."

"Keep making sentient robots, and you'll find that part of your job description will change."

#

After the ice came we packed it around Andrew on the bed after we wrapped them in towels. Andrew barely noticed what we did. His eyes had a scary glassy look. Jason pulled up the chair to the side of the bed and sank into it.

"Now what?" I said.

"We wait." The color had gone out of Jason's face, and for such a young man the life seemed sucked out of him. 

"Do you want some coffee?"

He shook his head. "Coke if you have it."

"I'll see what I can do."

Roger and Sinta were sitting on the couch, deep into conversation. He had his hand on her thigh, and she was smiling at him. Figured. I sailed past them into the kitchen, looking for something to give Jason. Strangely, though I don't usually keep coke in the house, there was a six-pack there. Andrew must have ordered it though I hadn't a clue why. 

I fixed up a glass of coke and ice and took it to Jason.

"Thanks," he said.

I sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Thank you," I said.

Jason shook his head. "No need to thank me." He swallowed hard. 

"Jason, how often did your experimental robots develop this condition?"

"Most of them. Then we developed the ejaculate. We thought that would be enough."

"Do you think because he had to claw his way through the dirt and lost all that skin?" I stopped, unable to go on.

"I couldn't say, Evaline. Until we get the results back from the lab we won't know the exact cause. I wouldn't beat yourself up over it, not until we know."

"Someone should have told me that Andrew was that fragile."

Jason looked away. "It wasn't my decision."

"Fuck you! How long are you going to let your mother lead you around by the nose, eh?"

"Evaline."

I turned my head to see Roger in the door. 

"I need to talk to you," he said. He jerked his head toward the living room and I followed. Roger sat on the couch and I joined him.

"I had a nice conversation with Sinta and it's possible we can get a lot of our troubles worked out with her help."

"Oh, is that while you were getting cozy with her."

"Yes."

"I see."

"Don't be like that, Evaline. It's not like we have a lot of options. Sinta knows a lot of people. And some of them can put my mother in her place."

"People like Amanda Cook?"

"Like that, yeah. And better."

"I don't like it, Roger. I don't like owing favors."

"It's not favors we are trading, but access. Access to Andrew. That's all she wants, Evaline." "To experiment on."

"No! She wants to map his neural pathways now that he's fully sentient. It's totally non-evasive." 

"God, Roger. These, these people have done horrible things to Andrew all of his life. I can't imagine anything they do will be non-evasive. No."

"Evaline, there is more at stake here than just a robot. Our child. Your career. Our life." 

"Andrew isn't just a robot, Roger. I love him. Love. Get it. I won't let anything happen to him."

Roger's mouth drew up into a tight line. 

"Love? You love that thing? For heaven's sake, Evaline!"

Twisting away from Roger, he put his hand on my shoulder. With a twist

"For once in your life listen to me, Evaline. We have a child to consider now. Do you really want her raised by my mother?"

"No, of course not."

"Sinta isn't asking for that much. In fact, she's willing to drop all attempts at retaking ownership of Andrew, if you just agree to let him work with Androdyne."

"I may 'own' him, Roger. But I won't speak for him. That will be his decision. If he lives, that is. And that is a big if."

#

I stared at the refrigerator looking at the food Andrew had bought. There were three humans in the house needing food, one of them being me, but I hadn't a clue as to what to do. 

Roger came to stand over my shoulder.

"We can order out," he said.

"I'm sick of take-out. Ah. Here are some steaks. How hard can it be?"

"I don't know," he said. "I'll look it up on the internet."

"Good idea."

He turned on the television, and I retracted the half-wall that gave access to the counter facing the living room. From here we read the instructions, and put together a passable meal of steaks, baked potatoes and salad. Okay, the steaks were a little burnt, and the potatoes cooked in the microwave were a bit on the underdone side, but as I said passable. Roger retrieved Jason from the bedroom and we sat together. 

Jason just poked around at his food, looking glum. Roger, of course, had no trouble eating. Nothing separated that man's stomach from his food. I missed Andrew's cooking, especially choking down the results of my own efforts. God, how was I going to take care of a child if I couldn't even put a meal on the table? I said so.

"You'll be fine," reassured Roger. "We'll do it the old fashioned way. Nannies."

"You're awful," I said. 

"I turned out okay," he said. I rolled my eyes, and finally there was a hint of amusement in Jason's blue eyes. 

"Well, you didn't have a single nanny, and look at the mess you are."

Jason gave Roger an incredulous look.

I chuckled. "That's an old joke between us, Jason, the difference between how we grew up."

"How did you grow up?"

"Poor. Hungry. Running the streets. Dodging the law, the drug dealers and the gangs." 

"That's terrible."

"That's life for the poor, Jason. That was before the plague, when eighty percent of the men died, and work was available for everyone who wanted it."

"Evie, is not giving herself enough credit. She got herself quite the little gang going herself, and made a decent little living as a crime boss."

I rolled my eyes again. "Oh, for heaven's sake. I was hardly a crime boss."

"You managed to play the other gangs against each other to keep them from bothering you."

"I should never tell you anything," I said. "It was all survival anyway."

"No, it just shows how very smart you always were. And that's why, Jason, Evie got to attend Harvard," said Roger, "even though she had an arrest record."

Well, that was a sore subject now, knowing that Jason's mother, Sinta and Amanda looked for someone like me to help hatch their plans. But I kept my mouth shut on that. 

"She did?"

"Yep," I said. "But it was all juvie stuff, and the records were sealed. But the time in Juvie Hall was well spent. I was bored locked up and spent time in the library. They had an extensive collection of old law books. They were the best."

"So," said Roger, "on a long shot she took the L-Sats, and got a one seventy-nine."

"Is that high?"

I put my head in my hands. "Oh, god. When I saw the number I thought I failed."

Roger snorted. "The median score is one-hundred fifty. The highest score you could get is one-hundred eighty."

"And how did you do, Roger?" asked Jason.

"Not one seventy-nine," he said.

I chuckled again. "He had a very respectable one sixty-five. But that didn't stop him from graduating top of the class."

Roger got up and picked up the plates to clear the table. "That was only because she was at my back nagging me to do better. Hey, rich boy, she'd say. Are you telling me you can't do better than a girl from the streets? Gawd, she was so annoying."

"And so very right," I said. 

"As you usually are," he said, giving me a peck on the cheek. Jason picked up the rest of the dishes and followed Roger into the kitchen. I decided to check on Andrew.

Andrew's color wasn't looking any better though he was considerably cooler. In fact he was shivering. I moved the ice packs away, which were just bags of water now, and put them in the shower. With my hands I felt to make sure the bed was dry. Sinking into the chair by the bed I took his hand. 

"Evaline," he said faintly.

My heart leaped in my chest.

"Andrew! Thank goodness. You remember me."

"How could I forget you?"

"You didn't there for a while."

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't apologize. None of this is your fault. You're sick is all, and if I were told how easy it was for you to get sick, I'd never let you out of this apartment. I'm the one that's sorry."

"Not your fault, Evaline. The RIB agents-" His eyes fluttered and closed again.

"What about the RIB agents?"

But Andrew didn't say anything. Just speaking those few words taxed him. Then his eyes fluttered open again.

"Hold me, Evaline. Please."

"God, you don't have to ask. Of course I will."

I lay next to him at his back and put my arms around him. The bed was chilled, but just knowing that Andrew didn't forget me warmed my heart. Before long I was sleeping too. 

#

Sometime in the middle of the night, Jason came in and checked on Andrew. Maybe he came other times too, but this time I woke when he entered the room. He felt Andrew's skin and gave him another injection. I just lay and didn't say a word, watching Jason in the dark room through half-closed eyes. The only light in the room was from the streetlights that sliced through the panels on the window. 

Jason straightened and walked out of the room, closing the door as he left. I got up, and went to the door, intending to get a glass of water. But I heard Roger speaking with Jason, and something in his tone stopped me in my tracks. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 15



"How's he doing?" said Roger. He sounded concerned. 

"It's hard to say. I think he's getting better. The skin isn't hot to the touch anymore, but we'll have to wait until he wakes to see if he lost any cognitive ability."

"It would be a shame if you lost any of the work you and your mother did," said Roger. "Is Evaline asleep?"

"Yes."

"Good."

The lights in the living room switched off, which I thought was curious. I stealthily left the bedroom and held myself close to the right hand wall until I could peek into the living room. 

"You," Jason said in an accusing tone, "Are awfully close to your wife, the way you were trading war stories about your time in school together."

"She's my wife, Jason. We have history together. And I like her. I always have. She's a pain sometimes, but she always means well."

"I don't want to talk about your wife."

"Then don't bring her up."

I heard some moans and putting my head to the edge of corner saw Jason and Roger locked in an embrace. From the streetlights shining through the large picture window I could see the action. Roger was leaning hard on the smaller man's body, his hand on Jason's groin, aggressively kissing Jason. Fuck. I tried to pull back, but I was like a deer in the headlights, unable to move. A cold shiver moved through my body. In my wildest imaginings, I didn't think Roger was sucked into Cicily and Jason's schemes. Apparently, I was wrong. 

Roger pulled at Jason's zipper, and Jason moved his ass up enough for Roger to pull down his pant with his good right hand. 

"Are you sure," said Jason. "Your arm-"

"It is not in as bad a shape as my dick. I've been dying all day to get my hands on you."

With Jason's pants around his ankles, Roger leaned over and took the younger man's cock in his mouth, his head bobbing on it.

"Yeah," said Jason, his head thrown back on the top of the couch. "You always do that so good. Ah, you better stop, or I'm gonna-"

Roger pulled off.

"I need you. Turn around." 

"I'll help you with your pants first."

"I won't fight you on that," said Roger.

Jason pulled down Roger's slacks, revealing Roger's very erect cock. Immediately Jason sucked Roger's cock into his mouth. 

"Yeah, sweetheart. That's good. Yeah, a little more tongue, ahh." 

Roger bucked his hips into Jason's mouth, and grabbed the younger man's hair in his hand. 

"Fuck, yeah. But."

Jason moved back on his knees and turned leaned over the couch. Roger sunk to his knees then and buried his face in Jason's ass.

"Oh god, babe. I can't wait. Fuck me."

Roger sucked on his finger and then inserted into Jason. 

"Like that?"

"Fucker, no. You know what I want."

"Patience," said Roger. With that he inserted a second finger working it in, and then a third, with Jason groaning all the way.

"God damn. Fuck me already."

Roger lined his cock up and pushed in slowly. 

"More," said Jason, his teeth gritted. 

"You're so tight."

"Well, you've been neglecting me."

With that Roger pushed in hard. Jason gasped, then moaned when Roger moved faster with each stroke. Roger reached for Jason's cock tugging on it until Jason gave a final groan, and shot his wad against my nice white couch. Roger soon followed gritting his teeth to keep his moans as quiet as possible, pumping hard into Jason's ass. Finally he sank against Jason's back, kissing it gently. He pulled back and out, and both men sank to the carpet. Jason put his arms around Roger and kissed him. 

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too, babe," said Roger.

Love? Roger loved someone? Roger always was very careful not to use the "l" word. This last revelation was too much. Without thinking I flipped on the light switch flooding the living room with light, illuminating Jason and Roger's naked bodies.

"Would someone like to explain to me what is going on?"



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 16



Brief Synopsis-Evaline Shipley is a brilliant, high powered Washington lawyer that lives in the 2030's in a world where 80% of the men were wiped out by a biological agent. This imbalance in the genders leaves women to seek out alternatives to male companionship, one of them being pleasure 'bots. 

In the competition to built a better and more realistic pleasure 'bot, one of the leading pleasure 'bot manufacturers, Androdyne, crosses a legal line to produce a sentient robot. However, Sinta Grant and Cicily Wells and Amanda Connor (silent partner and Evaline's boss), owners of Androdyne, concoct a plan to make the idea of sentient robots attractive to the public, hoping to win support for their new line of robots. They set up Evaline to become the owner of their one successful sentient robot, Andrew, and wait for the discovery of Evaline's ownership of an illegal robot to play out.

Eventually Evaline was arrested, and Andrew confiscated. The publicity created by the arrest of Evaline was the exposure that Sinta, Cicily and Amanda hoped for. Evaline, however, is still in the middle of this mess, looking at jail time for harboring a sentient robot, and exposed to dangerous elements of society that are afraid of Andrew. Evaline, her estranged husband, Roger, and Cicily's brilliant adult son, Jason take refuge in her apartment with hired security guarding her door. 

Jason's presence at Evaline's apartment proves advantageous as Andrew develops a dangerous infection of his artificial biologic skin that threatens to terminate the robot's existence. Jason secures pharmaceuticals from Sinta Grant to combat Andrew's infection.

At the end of Chapter 15 Evaline leaves her vigil of Andrew in her bedroom to find Roger and Jason having sex in the living room. She hears her husband declaring his love for Jason. 

*****

"Would someone like to explain what is going on?"

Even to my ears my words sounded harsh and shrewish. Oh god. I was not "that woman" was I?

Both men lay naked on the floor as I illuminated their secret passion by flicking on the light switch. Jason looked frightened, and Roger, damn him, grinned at me. He didn't even have the decency to look sheepish.

"We're all adults here," said Roger. "I don't think you need an explanation."

"That's not what I mean. You told him you loved him."

"Really? Evie? You are going to go high school on me?"

"Bastard!"

"Never claimed otherwise, Evie. But it's true." He settled his arm around Jason's shoulder. 

"At least put some clothes on," I said. Disgust registered in my voice. That wasn't because of the gay sex, but because when it comes to relationships Roger didn't know his ass from his elbow. What did he know of love?

What did I?

The two men pulled on their discarded clothes. Jason kept a wary eye on me as I paced the room muttering to myself.

"Is she okay?" Jason asked Roger.

Roger gave me a glance.

"No, but she'll get over it, eventually."

"How long before she gets over it?" asked Jason.

Roger shrugged. "Wouldn't know. This is the part where I usually leave for a hotel."

"Maybe I should go," said Jason.

"Don't you even think it, Jason Wells," I said. "You have just as much explaining to do as Roger."

"What would you have us explain?" said Roger.

"How long has this," and I waved my hand from Roger to Jason then Roger again, "been going on?"

My husband looked at his lover. "What, about six months now?"

"Yes, about that long," said Jason.

"And you," I said pointing my finger at Roger, "don't think that's awfully convenient."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" I stormed. "Oh, I don't know. The fact that Jason's mother, her business partner and my boss conspired to set me up with a sentient robot! A situation that gets me in all kinds of trouble, so they could publicize sentient robots! That Jason followed along on every single one of their plans? That he did it to point of 'quitting' Androdyne and creating a product that is so close to Androdyne's biologic skin as to produce a court fight? What has Jason been doing? Seduce you so he could encourage you to move in with me? To keep tabs on me?"

"Did you do that, Babe?" Roger asked Jason with feigned innocence.

"Why yes, Sweets, I did."

Roger nodded and looked up at me. "He admits it," he said with a smile on his face.

I felt lightheaded. What an idiot I was. Roger was part of this? How deep did it go? I didn't have to wait long for answers. Roger never could shut up. 

"Though actually, Evaline, I was the one that did the seducing. You see, Sweetie, my mother owns about ten percent of Androdyne. She asked me to get close to Jason to find out if there were any new developments coming along to make the stock worth keeping. Only she had no idea how close we'd get. This guy," and he ruffled the hair on Jason's head, "didn't want to tell me anything. I had to get him awfully drunk to get anything out of him."

"Well that, and fuck me senseless," said Jason with a smile.

I swayed. The ground seemed unsteady under my feet. My breathing hitched, and I felt I wasn't getting enough air.

"Whoa! Evie! Are you okay?"

Both Roger and Jason got to their feet and rushed at me as my knees buckled underneath me. But it wasn't either one of them that caught me. I fell back into some strong, unyielding arms that wouldn't let me fall. 

"What have you done to Evaline?" Andrew said as the world became dark.

#

I came too on the bed with three concerned male faces hovering over me.

"Sorry, Evie," said Roger. "If I'd known-"

"Shut up, Roger. I'm not speaking to you."

"Don't blame Roger," said Jason. 

"I'm not speaking to you either." I turned my head away. 

"Give her some space," said Andrew. "It's always better to give her space when she's this cranky."

"Oh, I'm more than cranky," I snarled.

"Ssh, ssh, Evaline," said Andrew. "Think of the baby. All this stress is not good for you."

"Not good for me!" I sat up and immediately felt dizzy again.

"Has anyone monitored her liquid intake?" said Andrew sharply. "Roger, get her some water."

Roger left the room swiftly.

"Andrew, how are you feeling?" asked Jason.

"I am operating at nearly normal parameters," said Andrew stiffly. He spoke as he lifted my head and put another pillow under it. "My skin is damaged and it may not self-repair, but my cognitive functions are unimpaired."

"Just lay back," said Andrew. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Dinner."

"She didn't eat all that much," volunteered Jason. 

Roger came back with a glass of water.

"Now drink this, Evaline, and I'll get you something to eat."

"But Andrew, you've been sick. You need to rest."

"Evaline, I'm a robot, not a human. I do not need to rest. However, I do need to take care of you." He looked at Roger and Jason. 

"Both of you, out of here. Just seeing you her blood pressure rises."

Roger grimaced, but he put his hand on Jason's shoulder and steered him out of my bedroom.

"It's such a mess, Andrew. Now I find my husband is a conspirator?"

"Jason was telling the truth when he said Roger volunteered to watch over you," Andrew said gently. 

"How do you know?"

"His heart rate remained steady when he said those words."

"And just what would Roger do if things got out of hand, eh?"

"Just as he's been doing. Help you whenever possible."

"By lying to me? Hiding his true motives? That's help?"

"He took a bullet for you, Evaline. I don't think he has to explain much more than that."

I lay there sullenly, warring with anger and feelings of betrayal. It was true. During this past two weeks, Roger had been unusually helpful. And thoughtful, and considerate.

"Yeah," I said sourly. "He's been a whole other person, except for the betrayal bit. That exactly tracks like Roger."

"Evaline," said Andrew, "there wasn't much Roger could do against Cicily, Amanda, and Sinta. They set up much of this up before he ever met Jason, before I ever came to live with you."

"And you," I said suspicion shading my heart, "how much did you know? Before all of this started?"

"Evaline, you should rest."

"No, damn it! I want the truth!"

"People talk in front of robots like we aren't even there. I heard all of it."

"Get out!" I said sharply.

"Evaline," he said.

"Get out! Leave me alone."

Andrew got off the bed, a sad look on his face.

"Yes, Evaline."

He closed the door gently behind him and immediately I wanted him to come back. I wanted his strong arms around me as I figure out how I would save our asses. 

I was an idiot to love him. I was so screwed. 

#

If I thought I'd get to wallow in my pity party, I was wrong. I climbed into the shower to wash off my sweat and disgust at all the secrets those closest to me kept. Roger, well, it wasn't exactly a shock. He never was upfront with me. But Andrew? Somehow I thought there was real trust between us.

"I trust you, Evaline," he'd say over and over.

Apparently not. 

There was a knock at the bathroom door.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled.

The door opened.

"Evaline," said Andrew. "You shouldn't be standing in the shower alone, not with how dizzy you've been this morning."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," I groaned.

Andrew his robe drop and he opened the shower door. I had to hold back a gasp. Parts of his skin were black and looking like they were about to peel away.

"Oh, Andrew," I said.

He looked at his skin and then back at me. "This," he said, "can be repaired. But us, Evaline? Can that be fixed?"

I shut my eyes.

"It hurts, Andrew, that you didn't tell me the truth."

He wrapped his arms around me.

.

"I understand that now. When I first met you, the concept would never enter my mind. But now? That you hurt makes me hurt too."

I leaned against him. "I keep forgetting."

"What, Evaline?"

"That all these emotions are new to you. How could you even understand the concept of betrayal? Cicily tortured you for years, and you never thought any differently of her."

"She was doing her job," he said softly.

"Is that what you think now?"

He pulled me tighter to him. "Cicily is not important. All I know is that you are the center of my world." He kissed the back of my head and then my neck.

"How could Cicily not be important? She created you."

"I have a secret to tell you," he whispered.

I drew in a sharp breath, afraid of what I'd hear.

"What?"

"I told Jason I was not cognitively impaired, but that is not true. While the virus ate my skin, the heat from the infection damaged some of my memory. I had to choose what memories to keep, and I had little time in which to move them to non-damaged storage space. I dumped the data of Cicily's experiments with me to keep my memories of you."

"You did?"

"Not all of them, but most of them, yes," he said. 

"But weren't you afraid that you could lose critical data?"

"Yes, there was possibly I could have damaged myself. But it would be worse if I could not remember you, Evaline."

He kissed the back of my neck. Between his lips against that sensitive area and the water beating on my skin, a long shiver ran through my body. I turned around and put my arms around his neck.

"I was so frightened I'd lose you," he said. 

He pulled me closer so that our stomachs touched. His flaccid penis settled against my mound. His lips brushed against mine so softly that I pulled his head to mine to claim more of a kiss. He groaned softly, melting his mouth to mine, and our tongues met. My breathing sped up and where he pressed his cock tingled. I moved my hips against him, loving the sensation of our flesh pressed together. I wanted him, needed him so badly that I grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled him as hard against me as I could. Between my legs his cock stiffened, and I parted my legs slightly to invite him to move deeper into to me. 

Andrew reached under my thigh, pressing fingers into the sensitive crease where thigh met ass. He pulled my leg up over his hip. And pressed his cock head to my slick folds, parting them, yet just holding himself at the entrance. He pressed the fingers of his free hand into the small of my back, and I gasped and jerked, sparks running up and down my spine. 

"Please," I whimpered. "I want you. Fuck me, Andrew."

"No."

With warm water beating my back, and flooded with electric jolts of desire, his refusal didn't make sense.

"Fuck me," I said again. 

He edged his cock just a tiny bit more into my entrance so that the head poked deliciously inside me, but not enough. I wanted more. His tongue lapped the place behind my ear.

"No, Evaline," he whispered. "I cannot fuck you anymore."

"What?" Shock rushed through me, and a hollow sensation clenched my stomach.

"I will love you, Evaline. Each time we are together like this, it is love."

I sighed with relief.

"Then love me, Andrew."

He thrust, quick, deep and hard, and I gasped. He pulled my legs up over his hips. I hung from his neck as his cock rammed into me. Suspended from his neck, speared by his cock, and nothing was more important right now than the pleasure coursing through me. My arousal took flight, all senses opened and centered on him thrusting deep inside my body. I whimpered, then groaned, and exploded, pushing my hips as hard as I could on his wonderful phallus, wanting more, getting more, until my body could take nothing else. 

I slumped against him, and he kissed me tenderly. 

"My Evaline," he said. "There is nothing more important than loving you."

#

Very sweetly, and gently Andrew dried me with a towel, and wrapped my hair with another. In the afterglow of my orgasm, with Andrew's sweet attentions, I felt relaxed, calm and centered. Andrew picked me up and sat me on the edge of the vanity.

"Oh," I said with a smile. "What are you doing now?"

Andrew reached in under the sink and brought out a bottle of skin lotion. 

He winked at me.

"You'll see," he said. Pumping a gob of lotion on his hand he started working it into my feet, one then the other with careful, and slow strokes that caused heat between my legs.

"Oh god," I groaned. 

"Forgot my name again?" he said with a smile.

I chuckled remembering back to our first shower, and I gasped "Oh, Jesus" when he ate me out. 

"I'm Andrew," he had said. "Did you forget my name?"

He put more lotion in his hand and worked my calf muscles. 

"Oh fuck," I said.

"No more fucking," he said. "I thought I was quite clear on that."

"Oh, you were. Doesn't make me stop thinking about it though."

He smiled then worked his way up my thighs slow and languorous. Andrew's thumbs made circular motions, edging precariously to the crease between where my thighs met my hips. I moaned again as desire sparked once more. His thumbs rubbed the soft flesh on either side of my slit, and I hissed sharply. 

"What are you doing?"

"Feeling how you gush when I massage you there."

I swallowed hard. "Why do you make me keep needing you?"

He leaned over and took a nipple in his mouth.

"Evil, evil, robot."

"Mmmm," he said as he sucked on the tender nub creating strings of heat that ran to my clit. 

And just as things started to get really good, a knock on the bathroom door shattered the mood.

"Go away!" I said.

"Evaline," said Roger through the door. "There's phone call for you. Tamara Shou."

I wrapped a robe around me and opened the bathroom door. "What the fuck does she want?" I said irritable for good reason. 

He shrugged and handed me the phone. 

"Yes," I said, annoyance in my voice.

"Thank god, Evaline. I haven't been able to reach you."

"Jail has that effect on people, Tamara. What do you want?"

"I can't find Lindsey Talbot's files," she said.

"Hmph. Well, I'm sure they are there somewhere."

"They aren't. We've looked all over. And we can't reach Caroline."

"She's on a nice long vacation."

"But."

"What did you expect would happen when you fired me, eh?"

"God damn it, Evaline. You are still a partner here even if you aren't working in the office."

"What? You haven't drawn up the papers to buy me out yet?"

"Amanda never said anything about that."

"Well, you better. Because I'm never setting foot in that snake pit again."

"What about Ms. Talbot's files? Without the retainer agreement—"

"Get her to sign another one."

"And admit we can't even hold on to a piece of paper?"

"That's what I've always liked about you, Tamara. Always so quick on the uptake."

"Evaline! Produce that retainer agreement, damn it. If you don't-"

I clicked off the call and quickly blocked the office number and Tamara's personal cell phone numbers. I had quite enough of threats, lies and betrayals to last me a lifetime. 

"Evie," said Roger grinning at me, "that could get you disbarred."

I snorted. "I hardly think so. The retainer agreement is in the office. I can't help it if it someone misfiled it."

At that moment the door chime from the front door sounded.

"What is it about today!" I said.

"I'll get it," said Roger. He came back quickly. 

"A police detective is here. Detective Ricks? She said she met you at the hospital."

"Oh right, yes. Tell her I'll be a minute."

Andrew cocked his head.

"Detective?"

"She's investigating Roger's shooting."

"Let's get you dressed then," he said.

In five minutes flat Andrew had me dressed in a pair camel colored slacks and a black top. He brushed my hair back and into a bun, making me look perfectly presentable despite just having wild sex in the shower with my toybot. 

Detective Ricks sat on my couch, a cup of coffee in hand. Roger sat on the opposite couch. Jason was nowhere to be seen. I sat next to Roger.

"I'm glad to see Mr. Shipley is doing so well," said the detective. 

"The doctor said I was lucky. Soft tissue," said Roger. 

The detective looked around. "Where is this famous robot of yours?" she asked.

"In the bedroom," I said. "Is there something I can do for you detective?"

She took out an electronic notepad from her pocket. "Let's see. Mr. Shipley, when was the last time you saw Liz Carruthers?"

"Liz? I don't know. Maybe two weeks ago?"

"Do you have any reason to believe she might be jealous of your relationship with your wife?"

"What? No. What makes you say that?"

"Your wife mentioned that Ms. Carruthers told her she wanted a child by you."

Roger got a pained looked on his face. "Liz never mentioned that, and even if she did it wouldn't happen."

"Why not? Apparently your wife doesn't mind your extracurricular activities." 

"What's your point?" said Roger. He switched into lawyer mode and a hard look came over his face. "You have the shooter in custody. Didn't the media link her to a radical group, what was the name? Nobots?"

The detective shook her head. "Sometimes reporters get things wrong. The shooter is not involved with Nobots or any other group. In fact, until yesterday, the shooter has had an impeccable military record. Sharp shooter. Did either of you know that?" 

We both shook our heads.

"But she isn't talking which makes me wonder why. That tells me money is involved."

"Money is not unusual in our circle, Detective," I said. "But no one has a reason to shoot Roger or me."

"Someone had a reason. Are there any other jealous lovers I should know about?"

"No," said Roger.

I looked at my husband and studied his uncharacteristic hard demeanor. What was up here?

The detective stared back at Roger, and the hackles on the back of my neck stood. Was it possible she though Roger was behind the shooting? Despite everything, no, Roger would not go that far. I'd bet my life on it. 

"You know what, Detective," I said. "It's been a hard week for us, and we are both very tired. If you come up with anything new or have any new questions, give us a call. Right now I'm afraid we don't have anything else for you right now."




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 16



The detective stood. "Thank you for your time." 

Roger escorted her to the door and showed her out. As the door clicked closed I called, "You can come out now, Jason."

Jason opened the hall closet door and stepped out sheepishly. At the same time Andrew walked into the living room.

I put my hands on my hips. "Don't we have enough secrets here? Spill it, either of you. What don't I know about this shooting?"

Jason gave a slight shake of his blond head. "We aren't sure," he said. "But it may have been Sinta that hired the shooter. It would just track she'd do something like that if she didn't get what she wanted. The way she treated mother at times... She may have thought the best way to get Andrew back was to get rid of his owner."

"Jason, what happened to 'Sinta is what I have left of family?'"

"Are you kidding? After the shit's she pulled?"

"Hey, you are the one that said it, not me."

"It was an act, okay. Mother thought the best way to keep track of Sinta was if I played up to her."

"Something you've gotten good at," I said pointedly. "And that story, Roger, you told me about the RIB making you get information on me. How much of that was true?"

"Well, that was true. It did happen. But once Jason told me about how Sinta demanded he get Andrew back, I worried bout what she might do to you. I decided it was best to keep close to you."

"Do you have any proof that Sinta hired the shooter?" I looked to Roger, then Jason.

"No," Jason said. "No proof."

My anger rose and my hands shook at my side. My head was spinning from all the revelations of this day. But out of all the sneaky connivers involved, Sinta was the most dangerous. She wanted control of Andrew in the worst way. The woman had to go. 

"The way I see things, Jason, if you intend to keep fucking my husband, will be much easier for everyone if we're friends. And friends don't lie to each other. So, Jason, no more lies, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"We are all in butt full of trouble and not just with Sinta threatening my life. You could get arrested for conspiracy and securities fraud, and so could my husband. And I have these damn charges over my head, all because Amanda, Sinta and your mother wanted to produce an illegal product. And that doesn't even cover Andrew's status. Even if my plan for him works, we still have to deal with, Androdyne fighting to get ownership of him again. So we've got to start bailing."

"Jason, I need you to call Lindsey Talbot. She needs to know how badly my law firm is fucking up her case."

****

Thank you to all my readers who waited patiently for the last chapters of this story. All are written now, ending in Chapter 20 and a brief epilogue. If all goes well, each will post on successive days until the story is done. 

All comments are welcome.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 17



I admit it. I like kicking people in the teeth, especially people that do me wrong. Of course, I couldn't directly talk to Lindsey Talbot, even though technically she was my client. No, what I had Jason did would break several clauses in my employment contract with my firm, and could possibly lead to my disbarment for unethical behavior. But the way I saw it, there was a lot of ethical misbehavior going on and it was time to put a stop to it.

No one fucks with Evaline Shipley.

The first domino falling came in the form of a phone call from Tamara Shou. Her petite porcelain face with meticulously cut black bob and beautiful almond eyes puffed in anger, much like a cobra. 

"What the hell did you do, Evaline?" 

"Do? What can I do? The press hounds me morning, noon and night. I've had to hire security to keep them from my door. I can't go two feet out of my building being recorded. "

"You know what I mean, Evaline. Lindsey Talbot fired us this morning."

"Really?" I gasped in mock surprise. "That's awful. What did you do to screw that up?"

"Me? You know damn well—"

"Oh, sorry, Tamara. Someone's at the door. Must be the pizza man. Talk to you later." I clicked off the call, Tamara's shocked face fading from the screen.

"That was rude, Evaline," opined Andrew.

"Yes, it was," I agreed.

Roger opened the door to a figure dressed in heavy coat and a cap from the pizza place around the corner, the brim drawn low over his face.

"Hello, darling," said Roger happily. "Clever boy, you even brought pizza."

Jason pulled off the cap, his blond hair spilling on his forehead once again, giving Roger a bright smile. 

"Had to make it look good." He handed Roger the pizza. "Just the way you like it. Pepperoni with pineapple."

"Oh god," I groaned. Sometimes Roger did have the most appalling taste in food. 

"And I brought gifts from Lindsey." From inside his coat Jason produced a two long and flat containers each the size of glove box. 

"She gave you the arti-skin." I was worried she wouldn't.

"And more. She was more than happy to get a copy of the formula for the regeneration lotion. We have our first test batch right here."

Roger gave Jason a kiss. "You are so awesome."

"Enough, we don't have the rooms for that." I said. "Jason, how does Lindsey feel about the rest?"

"She wasn't happy about that," said Jason. "But, Lindsey is willing to go along just as she puts it "to stick to that bitch Sinta Grant."

"And your mother? She gave us what we needed?"

"Yes, she told me where to find the information. I've sent it under encryption to your email account."

"Excellent."

Andrew took the pizza from Roger's hands and put it on the table. He brought out some plates and cokes for Jason and Roger. They ate, while I worked at the computer, the figures I generated flew into a spreadsheet pictured across the television screen.

Roger and Jason looked up from their pizza.

"That's some very creative accounting," Jason said.

"She learned it from her crime boss days," Roger replied.

I rolled my eyes. "I have nothing on Sinta Grant," I said. Andrew brought me a sandwich.

"You should eat."

"Hmm," I replied eyeing the numbers on the screen. 

"Your formula isn't correct," he said. "You must have missed a cell."

"Oh yes, right. Thanks, Andrew."

"But what are you doing?"

"Comparing Androdyne's stated revenue to what it should be generating."

Jason eyed the sheet.

"The development costs aren't correct," he said.

"What should they be?"

He gave a figure. 

"Break it down, Jason. Let's make this good."

"And materials," said Roger. "Let's not forget that."

"I'm working as fast as I can."

"I can do it faster," said Andrew.

"Oh, you can?"

"Of course."

Andrew sat next to me and took the keyboard. His fingers worked faster than mine ever could, and he didn't make mistakes. Before long, with Jason's input, we had a very credible document.

"Now, you're sure, Jason, Sinta knows nothing about your relationship with Roger."

"I was the one doing the spying, remember?" said Jason.

"Or Amanda Connors?"

"Jesus, Evaline. Like I'd tell that old witch anything. And certainly not that."

I stared at Jason. What could I trust about him? Apparently he told no one but Roger, Mister Trustworthy, the truth. But all this, what we were going to do, relied on trusting Jason to do his part.

"Okay then, Roger. Don't you have a phone call to make?"

"Yup. You'll need to get out of sight and hearing of the television screen if you want this to go right."

"Come on, Andrew, Evaline," said Jason. "Let's fix Andrew's skin."

We went in to the bedroom, and Jason snapped latex gloves on his hands, and took out the two boxes. In one was a scalpel. Andrew took off his clothes.

"Man, buddy. There's some real damage here. This isn't some ordinary virus. And there are needle marks here in the damaged area."

"Yes," said Andrew. "When I was in custody with the RIB they said they were taking samples."

"Bastards," said Jason.

"Save the damaged skin," I said. "We'll need that."

"I'll need something to put it in."

I went into the bathroom; looked through the medicine cabinet and then the towel closet. Finally I found an old travel kit stuffed in the back of the closet and an unused plastic jar.

"Got it!" I said triumphantly holding it out for Jason's inspection.

"Good. Sterilize it with some alcohol and bring it back."

I didn't even know if I had alcohol in my medicine cabinet, but by some precious grace there was a small bottle. I put some in, swished it around, dried it and brought it back to Jason. 

Andrew stood stoically with his arms held over his head as Jason examined his body. 

"We don't have enough for everything, but we'll do the worst places."

"Proceed, Jason," said Andrew.

"It will hurt," he said.

"I'm aware," said Andrew. "It is not pleasant now with that skin dying on me."

Andrew was right. Here, outside the shower the dead skin smelled putrid. But Andrew didn't have a sense of smell.

"Does it hurt, Andrew," I said, "where the skin is black?"

"I'll be fine as long as you are with me," said Andrew.

"Okay, buddy. Here goes."

Andrew didn't show any pain on his face though he shut his eyes from time to time as Jason excised the worst of the blackened biologic skin. He dug the scalpel in, and I winced as he cut and peeled away thick layers the dead cells. 

"Here, Evaline, squeeze in the regeneration lotion. Yes, that's right. No, I'll spread it in. I have the gloves on."

Jason smeared the creamy liquid into the holes in Andrew's skin, then cut and fit pieces of the arti-skin into the cuts.

"How are they going to stay in?" I said. "Bandages?"

"No, bandages stick to the skin and could damage it. Do you have any Crazy Glue?" Jason asked.

"She has nail repair glue in the drawer in the vanity," replied Andrew.

"Nail repair glue?" I said.

"Same thing," Andrew replied. "Why don't you get it, Evaline?" 

"Crazy gluing a robot." I muttered. Well, why the hell not. It was no stranger than anything else we were doing. Rummaging through the drawers I found the tube. Jason sliced off the top with the scalpel and applied small dots between the arti-skin and Andrew's skin. 

"Evaline, blow on the repaired patches and help things dry."

"Really?" I said.

"Really," said Jason in a serious tone.

"That tickles," Andrew said.

"Oh, what do you know about tickling?"

"I saw tickling on a porn video."

"Porn? When did you see porn?"

"We showed him porn videos for instructional purposes," said Jason.

"You did? Perverts. So tell me, Andrew, why you haven't tickled me?"

"It didn't look like fun," Andrew said. "But if you think it's fun, I'll do it."

"Oh god," I said.

"There you go, forgetting my name again. What shall we do about that?"

"I'll go see what Roger is up to," said Jason with a wink.

"Don't-" I started, but Jason left the room in a flash. 

"Get on the bed," said Andrew.

"Don't you, um, want to rest or something?" I said.

He shook his head slowly.

"I've told you not to make me explain myself. Now I will have to punish you."

I started to say something and then stopped. There was something in Andrew's eyes, something that said he needed this. I flashed on an image then; Andrew with Cicily in the lab at Androdyne. Cicily, his creator, his mother figure, did horrible, psychologically painful things to the robot, and Andrew not being able to stop it. He needed to control as much as I needed to relinquish power. 

I gulped and lowered my head.

"I've been bad," I said. 

"Yes," he said sternly which made me shiver. "Take off your clothes." 

While I stripped he opened the closet door and brought out several of my long silk scarves. He stood over me, and turned me around roughly, pulling my arms over my head, tied my wrists together. Then he pulled another over my eyes and tied that too. It was a thicker silk than my other ones and I couldn't see anything. 

Suddenly, I was lifted and dropped gently on the bed. He grabbed my hands again, and I felt a jerking as my hands were tied to the headboard.

"Now," he said. "You'll pay for the consequences of your behavior."

Something soft brushed against a nipple, and sudden shock of that whispery yet insistent contact made my back arch. I caught the scent of my face powder and realized Andrew was using my largest make-up brush as a tool of sexual torture. 

"Oh, god," I said.

"What is my name," hissed Andrew in my ear as he tweaked the other nipple hard between his fingers.

"Andrew."

"What?" he said sharply twisting the nipple sharply. 

"Sir. Your name is Sir."

"Yes," he hissed. "You are not to make a sound. Do you understand? Not a sound."

I nodded my blindfolded head.

And the torture started, first with my nipples as he swirled the brush over one hardened nub, and tweaked the other. Heat spread through me as the brush played over my body stroking one area sensitive, then leaving it to another. His fingers tickled and then poked and prodded, as my mouth gaped opened, and my breath came in ragged breaths. The brush played over my breasts, over and under, and then down my stomach, and in and around my naval, which shot sparks up my spine. I struggled not to make sounds. If one escaped, he pinched me hard where his fingers were. I was sure I'd have black and blue marks in those places. The brush stroked my mound, and as he swirled the soft brush tickled my clit, I bucked, my wrists straining against the headboard. 

I was dripping, my juices seeping down my leg, and a little gasp escaped my lips as I trembled. 

He pinched my inner thigh.

Now my hips bucked, begging Andrew to bring me to release. Instead he moved the brush to the soles of my feet. I did not know they were that sensitive. I couldn't stand the swirling of the brush on my soles. Shocks spread from them, up my legs, to my clit, up my spine. 

But then the sneaky robot took his soft tongue to the soles of my feet, tip of it stroking the sensitive flesh, up, then between each of my toes. With a feather's touch he sucked my smaller toes into his mouth and dipped his tongue in and around them. Andrew stroked the bottom of the other foot with the tips of his fingers. I squirmed. He pushed my legs up and slapped my ass hard. 

"Ah!" I gasped.

"No sounds!" snapped Andrew. Roughly he turned my body around, breasts pressed against bed, ass in the air. With one hand he pressed my legs together, with the other he swatted my bottom. 

I gasped soundlessly, my mouth now formed in a wordless "oh" as he slapped my ass bringing it to a stinging heat. Oh fuck. My cream filled the space between my legs, sloshy and hot. My breathing was ragged now, and I needed him inside me.

"Have you learned you lesson? Speak, Evaline," he said harshly. "Have you learned?"

"Yes, yes, Sir."

He leaned over to my ear again.

"What do you want, Evaline?"

"Fuck me, sir."

"I didn't hear you. What do you want?"

"Fuck me, please, please fuck me, Sir!"

He spread my legs and filled me with his cock. There was no slow build-up, no tease at the entrance. He rammed inside me in a single thrust, and kept thrusting, hammering at me. My stomach clenched, the heat in my pussy and my clit colliding to build a single rush that exploded through my body. 

"Andrew!"

He shuddered and slammed inside me a few more times. Finally, he fell next to me. 

"Perfect," he said reverently. "You are so utterly perfect."

My hands tied to the headboard I lay there not knowing what to expect next. But then his hands were at mine, untying them from the headboard and from the scarves. Andrew rubbed my wrists gently, kissing them.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, Andrew," I said softly. "You were amazing."

"How did I get so lucky?"

"No luckier than me," I replied. We lay there next to each other for a few moments. Finally I said, "Can I take the blindfold off now...Sir?"

#

Roger and I worked through the night getting everything ready. There were motions to draft and phone calls to make. The next day we sent Jason to the courthouse to file the necessary papers and for one last meeting with Lindsey Talbot. His pizza man routine worked very well to get him in an out of my building. That, it turned out was the easy part. 

It felt weird to enter the offices of Connors, Shipley and Shou, like I was treading the hallways of my old high school during a class reunion. Everything was the same, but it wasn't. Gone was the connection I felt with the people. Even the furniture and walls felt foreign. I was an outcast, an alien in my own world. The people didn't know how to react to me, murmuring chastely, "Hello, Ms. Shipley," or "Hi, Evaline" as they scurried back to their cubbies and offices. I said I'd never stepped foot in the snake pit of these offices, but that was before I formulated this new plan. This was necessary.

Roger walked at my elbow like a stalwart lieutenant. Vain as my husband was he insisted on discarding his sling though his left arm moved stiffly. He was polished and poised carrying my briefcase while he wore a ten thousand dollar tan raw-silk suit, buff colored shirt and a dignified burgundy and gray paisley tie. His feet were shod with hand-made brown honest-to-god Italian leather shoes, not the pleather ones that pass for fashion now. No one dressed like Roger did. His clothes screamed wealth and casual dominance at the same time. I knew each one of my female coworkers creamed their pants just a little looking at him. And maybe even some of the men did so too. 

I wished I could have brought Andrew to ease my jangled nerves, but the judge's order to keep him in the apartment precluded that. Jason stayed with Andrew to make sure he was safe against intruders. With the husband opening the glass door for me, I entered the conference room.

At the highly polished wood oval conference table sat Tamara Shou, and Priscilla and Sinta Grant. Tamara's eyes seethed suspicion, Sinta's curiosity. Priscilla eyed me like she was surgically trying to decipher my next move. Let her. She didn't know what was coming. I took my old seat at the head of the table, looking down the long length to my former partner, and truth be told, my new enemy. Roger stood at my back.

"So," said Tamara coolly, "what is this about?"

"Just a minute. Roger?"

He handed me a small recording pod from my briefcase.

"You don't mind if I record these proceedings," I said. 

Tamara's face blanched. "Go ahead. We'll want a copy."

"Of course, Tamara. I see Sinta Grant and her attorney Priscilla Grant are here as requested on this day..." I spilled out the rest of the things that are normal for a recording of this type, including the time and where we were located. Tamara looked frightened. Good. 

"I see Amanda Cook isn't here," I said. "I assume then that you, Ms. Shou represent her interests."

"I do."

"Fine. Sinta, thank you for coming."

"And how is our Andrew?" she said.

I raised my eyebrows. "My Andrew is fine."

"Good," she said.

"Now ladies, first, I want to inform you that as of today Lindsey Talbot remains as my client. She approached me and asked that I proceed on her case, which I shall."

"Second, I want all you to know that I officially sever all ties to Conner, Shipley and Shou. I know that was I removed as managing partner, but up to now I was still a partner." Roger handed me a file from my briefcase and I slid it down the table to Tamara in shocking informality. "That is my official resignation, and my buy-out offer. I'm sure you'll find the terms are most generous."

"Now wait, Evaline," started Tamara.

"Shut up, Tamara. Even if you aren't aware of all the shit that's gone down, you are still culpable. I wouldn't be surprised if the RIB is on their way to arrest you."

"Arrest me? On what charge?"

"Oh, these two know," I said nodding to frick and frack across from her. 

Tamara looked at them.

"She's got nothing," said Sinta.

"Except Andrew, and he's willing to tell everything."

Sinta stood. "He can't. He's..."

"What? Held in thrall by Cicily's commands? Don't count on it Sinta. We've found out a few little things about our Andrew. First is, he's anxious to tell anybody willing to listen all the foul, awful things that you and Cicily did to him to bring him to sentience. All the dirty, nasty, perverted things, Sinta."

I glared at her. This last part I guessed at, but judging by the look of horror on her face, I guessed correctly. I wanted to smash her head in right there for hurting Andrew, for using him like a thing, for causing him pain. She didn't know how much Andrew "forgot" and in truth I didn't either. But I was willing to play this card to get what we needed to get free and clear of this mess.

"Don't say anything," said Priscilla.

"Oh, she doesn't have to say anything, Prissy. The robot will do the talking unless-" I let the word dangle.

"Unless what?"

"You confess to conspiring to murder me."

"What?"

"Your heard me. You'll go to jail, Sinta, and do your time for that. Because trust me, if the full story comes out, you'll never get out of prison. Don't you think eight and a third to twenty-five is better than life without parole?"

"I'll fucking kill you," she growled.

"Careful, Sinta. I'm recording this remember? You wouldn't want to add threatening to your charges."

"I don't understand," said Tamara. "How-"

"Because," said Sinta, "it's either that or face SEC violations, am I right?"

"You are so smart, Sinta, and so right. There are so many violations. Improper revenue, stock manipulation, fraud. I'm fully prepared to ruin Androdyne and its stock, and I'd love to do it too."

"You can't back that up. No court will allow Andrew to testify."

"Maybe, maybe not, but there are other things the SEC will love to see. Roger, dear?"

Roger handed me another file from my brief case. "Aside from trying to create a sentient robot you cooked the books to make the your stock look better than it was. Excellent accounting. Unfortunately, it was also very creative. Here is a comparison of what you should be reporting against what you did."

"You can't prove that."

"No, but Cicily can. And she's willing to testify. Oh, and by the way, Cicily is my client now too. I've decided to pick up criminal cases along with corporate ones. You know how new firms are. Have to take what we can get. Roger, my new partner, was very good at Criminal Law at Harvard, weren't you darling?" 

"You make me blush, sweetheart."

"What do you want? I know there's more," said Sinta, an edge of anger in her voice.

"Yes. You will sell all but ten percent of your stock in Androdyne to Jason Wells."

"Jason, why?"

"Because he contributed to the making of Andrew as much as his mother did and you didn't pay him a cent."




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 17



"Blackmail," snarled Sinta.

"Those are Cicily's terms, Sinta. But I consider it rough justice. What do you say? Do you agree to terms, or does Cicily spill her guts to the RIB."

"You have papers you want me to sign I assume?"

"Roger, darling?" I said sweetly.

Roger fished out another file folder. I looked at it briefly, and sent it down the table to Sinta and Pricilla, along with a pen.

"If you sign it now, this will conclude our meeting."

Sinta looked at Priscilla, and Priscilla nodded. Ten percent was still a sizable chunk of money. However, Sinta now no longer had controlling interest in Androdyne. As much as I wanted to cut her out completely, that would remove any motivation for her to co-operate. What she didn't know was that Lindsey Talbot financed this end of the deal, in exchange for shared rights to Jason's unpaid work at Androdyne on biologic skin. And Sinta didn't need to know that though I would dearly have loved to twist the knife in a little more. 

The pen in Sinta's hand scratched her signature audibly.

"Is that all?" said Priscilla. Her voice was so cold it could frost the windows.

"No. I have a car waiting at the door for you to take Sinta to a Detective Ricks, who will love to take Sinta's confession. Don't dawdle, either of you. The detective is a busy woman."

Sinta and Priscilla left the room shooting me stares that if they were knives would cut me dead. I looked dead on at Tamara then.

"Call Amanda and tell her to sell her shares of Androdyne. If she doesn't, then I'll expose her part in helping hide a sentient robot."

"She won't do it," said Tamara.

"Oh, she will. Because once the news of Sinta's arrest makes the news, Androdyne's stock is going to tumble, hard."

"Oh my god. You're forcing her to sell after that, aren't you? Otherwise-"

As she spoke Roger collected the recording device and closed up my briefcase. 

"Yes, Tamara, I just made you privy to insider trading information. And you are her agent. Goodbye, Tamara." 

Roger took my arm when I stood and still holding my briefcase, escorted me out of my old offices into an elevator. Now we were alone and Roger sighed with relief.

"That was beautiful, Evie. I hope the rest of this works out as well."

"It will," I said with a fake smile and confidence I wished into existence.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 18



Roger sat beside me in the limo on the way back from my old offices deep in thought. I sat there, hands on my knees staring ahead going over the next part of my plans in my head. We were sharing the same space but couldn't be farther apart.

"I do love him," Roger said suddenly. "I never thought I'd say that about anyone. He's just so-" His voice trailed off. 

How does one respond to that? Long ago I put a space between what I thought of Roger from my feelings about him. Or at least I thought I did. There was a place in my heart where I always felt responsible for him. And just as Roger said to Jason about me, I liked Roger. Not the irresponsible, horrible husband Roger, but the charming, slightly sweet man that spent more time hurting himself than anyone else. But that wasn't enough on which to base a marriage.

"He cute," I said. "And smart. And he's got this 'I'm going to take care of my shit regardless' attitude that's charming. And I'm glad for you."

"You are?" Roger sounded surprised and grateful too.

"Of course I am. Damn it, Roger, we aren't good as husband and wife, but you are, you've always been, my best friend, even if there were stretches you were a total shit about it."

He took my hand and squeezed it.

"Where do we go from here?"

I shrugged. "What do you want, Roger?"

He looked out the window as the streets of Washington slid past.

"If I could, I'd marry him."

I patted his hand. 

"We'd have to change law for that to happen, some pretty set-in-stone-or-the-whole-of-civilization-will-crumble law."

He sighed.

"I know."

"But there is one thing we can go for."

"What?" he said still staring out of the window. 

"An annulment."

"What?" His head snapped back and he looked me in the eye. 

"I looked up the law a while back. There wasn't good reason then, but I think we've got a good case for it now. Especially if your male lover is willing to step up and give testimony."

"What? You want to out me, out Jason, Evaline?" His voice carried a slight edge of panic.

"No, not like that not. Not to punish you. Jesus, don't you think its time we all stop telling lies? Some people are gay. Big fucking deal."

"Oh, Evaline. That's a shit storm right there."

"Well, maybe its time for a shit storm, Roger. Look, it's right there in the Fourth Amendment, "The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures shall not be violated'-. It's the basis for our right for privacy. What we do in our homes should be sacred, as long as we aren't hurting other people."

"Yeah, along with 'life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.'" He sounded bitter. "Only you, Evie, would look at those words in that way. Not that I disagree with you, but the courts see things in a much more narrow way."

"No, think of it. We'll be a sensation. The law firm of Shipley and Shipley, trailblazing new law with the first openly gay partner in twenty years." I bumped his shoulder playfully to pull him out of his funk.

"Uh huh," he replied.

"We could," I said with my next wicked thought, "move to Los Angeles. Practice entertainment law. Betcha there are lots of gays there needing representation."

He groaned. "My mother would be horrified."

"Good," I said."I'd like nothing better."

"You're incorrigible. And what about our daughter? How is she going to feel with having an openly gay father?"

"Maybe better about it than a father hiding in the closet. We are who we are, Roger, and the poor kid will have to deal with it. But as long as we love her, and are honest with her, how far wrong can we go?" 

He snorted. "She's got two strikes against her before coming into this world. You and me."

I chuckled. "You're right there."

"Don't you think," he said, "we should get you clear of these felony charges before we make new law?"

"Pragmatic."

"Damn right."

"So? The annulment?"

"I'll think about it, Evie."

"That's all I can ask."

#

There were two, no make it three, nasty surprises waiting for us at my apartment when we arrived. The first was a letter with a return address of the Department of the Interior. The second and third were the staid faces of Agents Green and Pataski. Andrew stood between them, his wrists handcuffed, acting as passive as I instructed him. Seeing this, I knew what was in the envelope.

I gripped Roger's arm. I knew this was coming, but now that the moment was here my knees got weak.

"Steady," Roger breathed in my ear.

"Mrs. Shipley," said Agent Green. "We have a warrant to confiscate your robot."

"Seems," Agent Pataski sneered, "The Secretary of the Interior denied your petition."

I had a hard time breathing. Roger held me up.

"Roger," I said.

Roger let go of my arm and opened the briefcase, fishing out another file and handed it to Agent Green.

"Consider yourselves, and the RIB served. We are filing suit against you and the RIB." 

"Suit? What for?" 

"For malicious prosecution, and damaging my personal property. That little virus your people injected into him nearly terminated him."

"He's not your robot, anymore," spat Pataski.

"We'll see you in court. And he better be unharmed."

"Are you threatening us?"

"Yes." I hissed. "Andrew, I'll see you soon."

"Yes, Mistress," he said blandly, just as we discussed. 

#

We were now forced to challenge the RIB for Andrew's custody. Not that we didn't expect to, but no one was making it easy for us. 

The quickest we could secure a court date for an emergency hearing was two weeks. That was with Roger and me spending every favor either one of us had with the Washington justice elite. But time was of the essence. Despite my suit against the RIB, which in effect was a warning to keep their hands off my robot, I couldn't be sure if they would experiment on him. My anxiety shot through the roof, and the only thing that kept me sane was working on my court room strategy.

During that time the results came back from Lindsey Talbot's lab which proved what we suspected. The virus that was injected into Andrew was man-made. Tersa worked on connecting the dots between the virus and the RIB. It wasn't an easy job, and as she reminded me, it cost me plenty. 

That was okay. As long as it was for Andrew. 

While we waited, Roger and Jason took over my bed. We rented a double bed we set up in the living room for me. Maybe it was better that way, because I couldn't bear laying in my bed without Andrew there. The bed in the living room became a de-facto office, with my laptop, and pages of research stacked on the side closest the wall. Andrew made me promise I'd keep my feet up, and drink plenty of water while he was gone.

"I'm worried about these dizzy spells," he said the day before the RIB took him. "You shouldn't have them."

"The internet says it happens in early pregnancy."

"The internet is wrong. You need to see a human doctor."

"After all this is settled. I promise."

Still, drinking all the water Andrew demanded had a predictable effect, and I found myself sneaking past my own bed several times during the night to get to the bathroom. Often I'd see Jason and Roger tangled together sleeping. They both looked like angels in each other's arms. I think I fell in love then with the idea of Roger and Jason being together as they should be, unafraid and unashamed. If there was a way I could make that right, I'd do that too. Roger, however, wouldn't talk about the annulment, and the rest of that plan wouldn't work without it. 

Andrew made both men promise to keep me fed, as if I wasn't interested in eating. My appetite was a rabid beast, which colluded with my spells of morning sickness to make me a very unhappy woman. Between wolfing down food, and hanging my head over the toilet my stomach commanded my life. It was awful, but not as bad as waiting for that court date-until I could see Andrew again. 

Despite Priscilla's efforts, Sinta's arrest made headline news. Maybe someone leaked the information to the press, maybe someone who had the press corp hounding her door. Who knew? But Androdyne's stock tumbled to an abysmal level, prompting a call from my mother. 

"What the hell, Roger!" said Raina, her manicured face filling my television screen. "What is going on?"

He shrugged. "Why should I know?"

"Do you know how much money I lost?"

"Why should I care? You've disinherited me."

"You know I had every intention-"

"Of what?" I said walking to stand behind the couch where Roger sat. "Restoring his inheritance when it suited you? To keep dangling it in front of him when you wanted something from him? God, it is a good thing that I've always taken care of him, because I'd hate to think of what would happen if Roger actually needed money. You are a stupid woman, Raina Shipley. It was never about the money for Roger. He did what you wanted because he wanted you to love him."

"What?" she sputtered. "I mean, of course I love my son."

"Really, Raina. You lie badly too."

"You really are unstable, you know that, Evaline. My lawyers are drawing up custody papers now for Roger's daughter. You'll be lucky to hold her after she's born."

"Don't call again, Raina," I said before I clicked off the call.

"Sorry, darling," said Roger. "Losing money does that to her."

"Don't make excuses for her bad behavior. You understand now why we need the annulment."

"Yes," he sighed. 

"Why," said Jason coming from the bedroom, "do you need an annulment?"

"Married," said Roger, "by law, Evaline has to name me as the father. If we are not, she is free to name whoever she wants, if anyone."

"It makes it that much harder for Raina to claim kinship to our child.

"Especially if I refuse to take a paternity test."

"Custody will be tied up, probably for years," I said. "And the longer that goes on, the weaker Raina's case becomes."

"Yes," said Roger ruefully.

"Then let's do it," said Jason.

"You know what that means?" said Roger.

Jason flopped down next to Roger and threw his arm around him. "Exile from proper society? Living openly with the man I love? Geez, I don't see a downside here."

"You're reckless."

"Which is why I fell for you in the first place." He gave Roger a kiss on the lips, and I turned my back.

Damn, they were just so cute together.

#

Despite the utter civility of the courtroom, it was, in truth, a battlefield. Our expensive suits are our armor, our silk shirts, scarves and ties our flags of war, our briefcases the scabbards of our weapons. Our swords and spears are what pieces of law we could glean from past case law.

This is why some lawyers, like Roger, never argue cases. Roger was brilliant at remembering case law, and liked to put the pieces neatly together to form a cogent whole. But he wasn't good at what I excelled at, twisting and turning case law into arguments, going in for the kill. 

For the first time in our marriage, Roger argued violently with me. He didn't agree with my strategy, which lay in proving that a sentient robot like Andrew posed no risk. 

"You'll be incriminating yourself. You lose this battle and we'll lose everything. You should stick to Cicily's statements," he said. "They are recorded, and a judge made a ruling based on them."

It was the safe way to go, at least on the surface. 

"Why do you think the RIB took Andrew in custody again?" I said. "Regardless of what they learned from him they will have 'experts' testifying to his sentience. Next thing you know they'll file charges of perjury against Cicily. No the best defense is a good offense."

As if I gleaned that information from a crystal ball, a few days before this hearing, Cicily's next phone call to Jason confirmed that the RIB arrested her again, this time in her jail cell for perjury.

"Don't worry, Cicily," I said to her at her arraignment on those charges. "We're going to make this goes away." But I spoke with more bravado than surety. 

At the very least Roger was able to argue for a reasonable bail, and we got Cicily out of jail. We set her up with a round-the-clock security detail, to be on the safe side, and Jason sent her to his DC apartment. 

But right now we sat, me, Roger and Betty in the Federal court to try to get Andrew back. Jason and Cicily sat in the back.

At the opposing counsel's table sat the prosecutor from our previous court date, Olivia Waters, and the lawyer I assumed was from the RIB, who we found from court documents was Anita Cornwall. 

"All rise," said the bailiff.

The judge, Steffie Anderson, walked smartly up her chair. I noticed that her hair was unusually well-coifed, with a new cut and dye job, and her nails sported a crisp red. Everyone, I suppose wanted look good in front of the press. 

The bailiff announced the case. We stood and introduced ourselves. 

Judge Anderson looked us over. 

"Well Ms. Shipley, you certainly believe in a speedy trial."

"Yes, your honor."

"And you Ms. Cornwall, are you prepared to present your case."

"Yes, your honor."

"Any motions before trial?"

"No, your honor," said Waters.

"No, your honor," I said. 

"You sure, Ms. Shipley?"

Roger gave me a light kick with his shoe. The judge's question was unusual. 

There were several items of debate between me and Roger. He wanted to move for a dismissal based on a lack of evidence. Maybe the judge's question was an indication of how she might rule. But she could return Andrew herself if she felt that strongly about it. But I felt strongly about this for another reason, I had to make my points, because I wasn't fighting for my property rights. I was fighting for Andrew. 

"Yes, your honor."

"Opening statements then. Ms. Waters."

""Your honor," said Cornwall. "We believe the fact speak for themselves. We will prove Evaline Shipley was aware that her toybot purchase is sentient, and failed to report this to the RIB. Additionally, this toybot is dangerous, having assaulted to two RIB agents. The Andrew serial number XB109856 belongs in our custody and should be destroyed."

"Ms. Shipley," said the judge, her face looking down, supposedly at some papers.

I drew a deep breath. Here is where the shit hit the fan. It remained to be seen in which direction the fan would blow.

"Your honor, I stipulate to the prosecution's assertion that I did become aware of Andrew's sentience."

The courtroom became bedlam as the spectators made noisy comments. The judge banged her gavel.

"Order, or I will clear the courtroom," she said loudly. "Ms. Shipley, approach the bench."

All five of us, the prosecution, Roger and Betty approached the unhappy judge.

"What are you pulling here, Shipley?" she said.

"Your honor, I'm just trying to clear up this nonsense. The RIB and now the prosecution has been relentless in trying to separate me from my legally obtained toybot. And not for the reasons they state. If I'm to get them off my back then I need to take this as far as I can to prove that Andrew is not dangerous."

"Your honor, I move for summary judgement," said Waters. "She's proved our case."

"Denied, Ms. Cornwall. Ms. Shipley, despite her ill conceived admission, is allowed to argue her position whatever way she sees fit. Do you have anything more for your opening argument, Miss Shipley?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Proceed."

The judge looked annoyed and I didn't blame her. Her refusal right then not to pronounce judgement might cost her politically. On the other hand she was right about my rights.

"Your Honor, the prosecution's case is built on the assumption that sentient robots are dangerous. Certainly our own history tells us this is so. But were those robots truly sentient? How do we know? The problem lies in defining sentience in the first place. The second is in the procedures, quite horrible, quite cruel practices that according to experts you will hear, were the only way known, to up to now, to create sentience in a mechanical device. You will hear testimony that demonstrates the Andrew is the only fully sentient that ever existed, and how Andrew came to full sentience makes him safer to be around than my own mother. Therefore I trust your honor will find Andrew should be returned to me. Thank you, Your Honor."

"Ms. Waters, proceed."

We spent an hour where she attempted to trot out one witness after another, who became irrelevant when their purpose was to reveal Andrew's sentience. Because I already stipulated that Andrew was sentient, the judge didn't get to hear much of what Waters wanted her to hear, different parts of expert testimony that would damn me and Andrew. Watching Water's frustration grow was a thing of beauty. She then moved into trying to prove how I knew he was sentient. 

Cornwall called Cicily to the stand. We expected this because Cicily was on the witness list. It was a dick move, more for show than substance.

Cicily mounted the witness stand. "State your name for the record," said the bailiff.

"Cicily Wells," she replied.

"And your address?"

She gave Jason's apartment.

"Do you promise to tell the truth, under pain of perjury."

"I do."

"Miss Wells, you previous testified that Andrew was not sentient when he left the Androdyne lab."

"On the advice of my attorney I refuse to answer on the basis that the answer may incriminate me."

Waters nearly huffed. In a jury trail such an answer might prod a jury to believe in a defendant's guilt, but with only the judge, the answer was mitigated by understanding of law. 

"Was the robot sold to Evaline Shipley sentient when he was sold to Peck's?"

"On the advice of my attorney I refuse to answer on the basis that the answer may incriminate me."

"Your Honor, I submit that this witness is unduly influenced by a lawyer whose own representation of her is a conflict of interest."

"Your Honor, Cicily Wells asked for my representation, and did sign a waiver acknowledging a potential conflict."

"Ms. Wells, it may be in your best interest to retain separate counsel," said the judge.

"Your honor, I can't speak to the facts because of the charges against me, but I can say this. There is no one better to represent me, or Andrew, than Evaline Shipley."

#

Without much else, Wells moved into trying to prove how when I knew he was sentient, therefore setting up the argument as to when I should have reported Andrew to the RIB. Her strategy, it appeared, was to show that I knew right away. Waters tried to submit recordings of Andrew's and my interaction when I purchased him. 

"Objection your honor," I said. "This is not best evidence."

"Of course it is," said Waters.

"No, it is not. I can't cross-examine it. Your honor, I submit the best evidence is the auto-attendant at Peck's that ratified the sale.

"Objection! Mechanical appliances cannot give testimony."

"Then why is it allowed to ratify a sale? It can speak to facts and answer questions."

"Ms. Shipley, you will address your comments to the court."

"Yes, your honor. I'm sorry. But there are precedents for non-humans to testify in court. In 2021, chimpanzees were allowed to testify in court using sign language to attest to their treatment during the animal testing of cosmetics."

"Objection over ruled, Ms. Waters. Procure the auto-attendant that proceeded over the sale to Ms. Shipley, and bring it here to court. I'll give you through the lunch recess to do that."

"Your honor," protested Waters. 

"It's either that, or we'll toss this piece of evidence too. Which will you have?"

In the face of her thinning evidence Waters didn't have much choice.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, your honor," I said.

"Don't thank me, Ms. Shipley. You have a long way to go to prove your point."

She banged her gavel. "This court is in recess."

#





The Non-Standard Man Ch. 18



We waited until the courtroom cleared before we left. Jason slipped off before any of us, and Cicily, Betty and I discussed what to do about lunch. We decided to eat in the courthouse, to avoid as much of the press as possible. Betty offered to pick up the order at the courthouse door were it would be delivered, and Cicily agreed to babysit one of the conference rooms until the food came. 

Roger handed me his briefcase and said he'd be back in a minute. After I dumped both our briefcases in the purloined conference room I felt that familiar urge that pregnant women often do. 

"Excuse me," I said. "I'll be right back."

The line at the ladies room was horrendous and after sitting in the courtroom for a couple hours, the need was urgent. I looked at the door of the men's room, and, of course, there is never a line there. Who wouldn't do this?

I pushed in the door to the men's room, and took a cursory look. It looked empty. Quickly I entered and locked the door, and moved past the urinals to the stalls. It was then I realized my error. I heard noises coming from the handicapped stall at the far end. But they weren't the usual noises you'd expect in a men's room.

Unless you were a certain type of man.

I peeked under and sure enough saw Roger's pants pooled around his expensive leather shoes. And in front of his leg, knees attached to legs that ran into sneakers. The sneakers that tenanted my apartment for the past two weeks. 

"Oh yeah, babe, suck it. Suck it down."

Oh, for heavens sake.

"Yeah, that's good. I love how you do that. God. Yes. I'm going to cum. Ahhh, yeah take it. Take it all. Fuck!"

"Your turn, babe," said Roger, pulling Jason up. I head smooching noises and a zipper ripped open. 

"I taste good on you," said Roger.

Roger's knees hit the floor then. Really? I hadn't expected that. The things you learn about your husband in a men's room. Now the sounds of Jason's passion wafted over the stall. He didn't take long. 

"God damn!" said Jason. "You are so hot."

I cleared my throat. 

I heard Roger choke and then sputter. "Fuck!" he said again, but this time it was from annoyance rather than pleasure. 

"Really boys," I said. "Can't you wait until you get home for that?"

Of course, the best part was walking out the men's room was with the men walking out after me. They tried to be casual about it, spacing out their exits. But someone put one plus one plus one together. 

"Look at her. Not only the toybot, but her husband and a boy toy too."

I smiled. Who can complain about a reputation like that?

#

Betty brought in the lunch and we passed the food around, sandwiches, chips and sodas.

"So," said Cicily. "How do you think we are doing?

I shrugged. "It's going to plan."

"I admit," said Betty, "it's not looking as bad as I thought."

"That's a ringing endorsement," I said wryly. 

"I don't know what you expect," said Roger. "It's a risky strategy."

"Come on, honey," I said in wifely familiarity, "You've got to admit we have Waters corralled pretty good." Jason winced at the "honey." Well, there were some things he'd have to get used to.

"For how long?" said Roger still grumpy.

"Trust in the power of the Force," I replied.

Jason chuckled then, and Roger shot him a look. Cicily watched the back and forth between Roger and Jason with a critical eye. Didn't she know about their affair? Interesting.

"But why," said Cicily, "did you make the prosecution bring in the automated attendant? I thought part of your strategy was to make the trial move as fast as possible."

"Um," I said with a mouthful of a roast beef sandwich. I swallowed it with a swig of ginger ale. "Because I wanted to lay a foundation for a robot testifying in court. I want to get Andrew on the stand and once she testifies the road is paved."

"I didn't think any of this would work," said Betty. "But you've gotten this far."

"Don't encourage her, Betty," said Roger. 

"Whose side are you on?" I said.

He munched on his sandwich not making a reply. The conversation hit a lull, and we all sat there with our thoughts and sandwiches.

When someone knocked on the door suddenly, we all jumped a little. Roger, closest to the door opened it, revealing my friend Kiki, the senator's aide. 

"Kiki?" I said.

"I'm glad I found you. Evaline, we have to talk."

"Come in. Sit down."

She stepped into the room but wouldn't sit. Roger closed the door. Kiki looked around the room uncertainty painted on her pretty face. 

"It's okay," I said. "Jason and Cicily are friends."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Evaline, is it true what the news reports, you admitted that Andrew was sentient?"

"I stipulated to the prosecutor's assessment of Andrew's sentience. There were strategic reasons for that."

"Evaline, whatever you're doing you have to stop. The judge can't possibly let you walk out of here with Andrew. You are just making it worse."

I sat back in my chair and regarded my friend. She looked worried. 

"What did you hear, Kiki? Spill it."

"The word is that certain key campaign contributors would withdraw support if Andrew is returned to you. But Evaline, you didn't hear this from me."

"Kiki!" I said. "I'm surprised at you. Putting stock in Washington rumors."

"But Evaline!"

"Go back to work, Kiki. There is nothing for you to worry about here."

Kiki pushed herself up, anger and confusion crossing her face.

"I'll give you a call," I said, "after this nonsense is cleared up, darling."

"Okay, Evaline," she said. "Bye Roger, Betty."

"Bye," they said. 

Kiki left and a more dour mood hung around the room.

"So," I said. "A phone call is in order, isn't it, Roger?"

He sighed. "Yes."

"Jason, do you and your mother need to have a talk before we place this call?"

Jason shifted nervously in his seat. "Yes."

"Come on, Roger, Betty. Let's take a walk."

#

Cicily looked none to happy when we returned and I couldn't blame her. Having dealt with this situation not to long ago with my husband, I sympathized with her. 

"Is everything good?" I said.

Jason looked at his mother. 

"No. But this isn't the time to talk about it," she replied. 

Jason flinched.

"We've got a call to make, Cicily. You can stay and listen if you want."

"No. I need some air." She got up and left the room, the door clicking gently behind her. 

"Jason, you don't have to stay."

"No. I'll see this through."

"Let's do this."

Roger feed his cell signal through the the television screen in the room, and before long Raina Shipley's face filled it.

"Roger, Evaline. Who do we have here?"

"This is my lawyer Betty Williams, and this is Jason Wells. I'm sure you've heard of Jason. His mother, Cicily, created Andrew."

"Yes," she said coldly.

"Evaline and I have news, mother. We're getting an annulment."

"What!" she sputtered. "You can't!"

"Well, we can, Raina," I said. "As it turns out, Roger is gay."

"What! What nonsense is this?"

"It's true, mother," said Roger. "And I just can't live a lie anymore, because I found my true love."

He threw his arm around Jason. "Mother, say hello to Jason."

"Roger Lesley Shipley!" she snarled. "You can't do this. The scandal—"

"Is unfortunate," I sighed. "But now I know why my marriage never worked. It just couldn't. Of course, after this, I just can't be sure who the father of my child is."

"What!" she snapped. Her face turned various shades of white.

"I've been very lonely. And very bad." I said with remorse in my voice. "I can understand your disappointment to know my child isn't your grandchild."

Roger put his arm around my shoulder. "And I don't blame her. I've been a terrible, terrible husband."

"Roger! Evaline! You can't do this!"

Roger leaned forward, his face drawn with determination.

"You don't want the scandal? You don't want the embarrassment of a gay son? You want to be able at least to see this child? Stop making threats, to me, to Evaline and to your political connections. You will never, ever bring up the idea of taking custody of Evaline's child, and you will never, ever interfere with our business again. Because, mother, I can assure you that I am not giving up my relationship with Jason. And if you want to keep that quiet, back off!" 

The woman started shaking.

"You!" she said fury in her voice while pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me, "you turned him into this!"

"Mother, don't be ridiculous," said Roger.

"Ever since she entered the picture, Roger, you've been a different man. You've pulled away from us, from me. You've stopped loving us, and it's her fault!"

"Evaline did not change anything about the way I felt about you, or a father." Roger said this coldly, and his own fury in his eyes. "Make the phone calls, mother. We will see a fair verdict in this court."

"There!" she yelled. "There, that attitude! That is Evie Rimes right there! Well, I won't have it! I've put up with it for too long. Not anymore! I'll make sure that woman doesn't interfere with this family again!"

The screen turned black as Raina suddenly hung up the phone. 

"What the hell," said Jason quietly.

"Sorry, Roger," I said.

Roger trembled slightly. "Yeah, that worked out as well as I thought it would." There was anger in his voice. "We're cooked now, Evaline. You don't have a chance in hell."



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 19



There is no sex in this chapter.

After our conversation with Roger's mother, no one felt like finishing their food. Poor Betty, who argued along with Roger that my strategies were foolhardy, was very quiet as she cleared the food and discarded it. 

"The courtroom is open again," she said upon returning. We glumly stood and walked to the doors, our security in front and back holding off reporters. Nevertheless, they shouted questions at us and Jason looked like he wanted to hide somewhere. Roger, the consummate actor, walked with an assurance none of us felt, and he led the way, giving smiles and waves to the reporters. "We'll talk after this is all over," he said with a bright smile when one overly ambitious reporter shoved a mic in his face. "Excuse us, ladies."

We took our place at the defendant's table. Betty took papers out of her briefcase and shuffled them. Roger stared ahead at the judge's bench. 

The minutes stretched on. The gallery filled again, and Waters and Cornwall returned to the prosecution's table. The only one who didn't return was Cicily.

"I wonder where she is?" fretted Jason behind me.

"It's okay. She's done her part," I said glancing back. "She didn't have to return."

He shook his head. I was an idiot. Of course, he was worried about his mother's reaction. Roger gave him a sympathetic glance, but turned away again. 

The bailiff returned and turned on the recording equipment. She looked at her watch, and looked at the door in which the judge would enter expectantly. 

"All rise," the bailiff said. 

Steffie Anderson took her seat at the judge's bench and looked at Water's and Cornwall, then us. 

"Ms. Cornwall, are you prepared to proceed?"

"Yes, Your Honor. But I want to change the order of witnesses. I'd like to call Magda Adams to the stand."

The judge looked at me. If Cornwall thought Magda was a good witness for her, she was wrong.

"No objections, Your Honor."

Magda walked her bloated self to the witness stand, answered the bailiff's questions about her name and address, and promised to tell the truth. As if.

"Ms. Adams, tell us how you know Evaline Shipley."

"She's my neighbor in our condo building."

"And have you known her long."

"Ever since she moved in five years ago."

"And do you know the toybot, Andrew?

"Yes, I met him on the day she brought him home six weeks ago."

"Was there anything unusual about the toybot?"

"Objection," said Roger. "Calls for a conclusion by the witness."

"Sustained."

"I'll rephrase. What did you notice about the Andrew."

"He acted in a peculiar fashion."

"In what way?"

"He said things you wouldn't expect from a toybot. He said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Adams. Not 'Mistress Adams' as any toybot would say. And he wouldn't look at me. Again, not standard behavior.

"Did he say anything else?"

"No, but Evaline told me he had 'enhancements.' Enhancements my foot. He just isn't normal. Non-standard. You can tell that right off."

"Is there any way that he was non-standard?"

"Yes, one day when Evaline's door was left open, I went in, to check things, you know? The robot was cleaning the apartment! Toybots shouldn't do that. And he had an order screen up on the television. He ordered food from the grocer!" 

"Thank you, Ms. Adams."

Roger stood. It was easy enough to impeach this witness, and given the last time I spoke with her, I threatened her, we decided that Roger would give the cross.

"Ms. Adams, you stated you entered the apartment once, when the door was left open."

"Yes."

"Your Honor, I submit defense exhibit A, a report by the superintendent of Ms. Shipley's building."

The judge nodded. "Go on, Mr. Shipley."

"Please pass this report to Ms. Adams," Roger said handing it to the bailiff. 

"Ms Adams, please read the highlighted part of the report. "

She cleared her throat. "Ms. Adams stated that she was in the habit of checking Ms. Shipley's door since she found it opened a couple days prior."

"Are you telling me that you didn't enter Ms. Shipley's apartment on that first occasion?"

"No," she croaked.

"And while you found it necessary to check Ms. Shipley's door, you didn't think it important to inform Ms. Shipley that there was a problem with it?"

"Well, ah..."

"And just why would you enter in the first place when a call to the super would have been more appropriate? Just what were you doing in Evaline Shipley's apartment?Is it true, Ms. Adams, you entered Evaline apartment inappropriately and illegally to engage in sexual congress with Evaline's toybot?"

"What? No!" she sputtered. 

"No further questions," said Roger. 

"Now wait! Just because..."

"Step down, Ms. Adams," said the judge. "You are dismissed."

I smiled at Roger and gave him a wink when he returned to the table.

Cornwall didn't waste a minute calling the next witness. 

"I call the auto-attendant from Peck's to the stand."

The bright, perky bot with the pencil skirt and the carefully crafted messy bun walked with a human up to the stand.

"What is this?" said the judge.

"The is the manager of Peck's, Ann Ketchen. She is here to make sure the robot performs to specifications in an unknown environment."

Oh, well played, Waters, I thought. Making the auto-attendant look dependent on a human made the robot seem less reliable. Roger gave a me a glance that communicated the same sentiment, with an added "we're fucked" nuance. 

"Proceed," said the judge. "But Ms. Ketchen is not to make any statements during examination."

"Understood, Your Honor."

The bailiff approached the bot.

"State your name, and where you live."

"I'm a Stacey, an auto-attendant for Peck's Toybots."

"But where do you live?"

"I don't understand your question, please re-state."

The bailiff looked confused.

"Where do you stay during the time the store is closed?" asked the judge.

"Oh!" Stacey said brightly. "This unit stays in the store with the other bots, only this unit stays there all the time even though others leave with their new owners."

"That will do," said the judge to the bailiff.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Stacey," instructed the judge, "please sit in the box here."

"Why, thank you! How nice!"

Some in the gallery chuckled. The judge banged her gavel once. "There will be order, or I will clear and close the courtroom. Understand! Proceed, Bailiff."

"Do you promise to tell the truth under penalty of perjury?"

"I can't lie!" Stacey replied perkily. "Peck's believes trust is the most important part of customer relations. Therefore all product statements and specifications are verified before I am programmed with them! It's part of the Peck's customer guarantee!" 

I resisted the urge to groan. Though I was glad that the robot was on the stand, I wondered just how well she'd get through the testimony. 

"Proceed, Ms. Cornwall," said the judge.

"Stacey," said Cornwall.

"Well, hello! It is a pleasure to meet you! And what is your name?"

"I ask the questions here," said Cornwall.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. I-ask-the-questions-here!"

The gallery laughed. They couldn't help it. Even the judge cracked up a little. 

"Order," she snapped with a crack of her gavel.

"Stacey," said the judge when she composed herself. "The person asking questions is named Anita Cornwall. She needs to ask you questions regarding Evaline Shipley and the Andrew she bought at your store. Do you remember Evaline Shipley?"

"Yes! She bought a used Andrew serial number XB109856 at Pecks!"

"There you go, Ms. Cornwall. Ask your questions."

"Stacey, do you remember the day that the Andrew Ms. Shipley bought was delivered to Peck's?"

"All data about completed transactions is is stored in memory."

"And what do you remember about the delivery?"

"The Andrew serial number XB109856 was delivered with a shipment of used toybots and stored in the back room until the technician could recondition him. The manifest of the delivery was uploaded to the central link at its arrival. But that day the human technician didn't show up for work, so the reconditioning was not done. 

"The Andrew serial number XB109856 was in the shop three hours before Ms. Shipley arrived and started her customer tour of the available models. She rejected our popular Bradley and Tom models which is outside the norm in buying preferences. This identified the customer as someone who was looking for something different. 

"In searching the database of available models, this unit found the used Andrew serial number XB109856 that was listed as having several enhancements. Customers often find enhancements attractive buying points. The Andrew was shown to Ms. Shipley and she agreed to purchase him, another satisfied Peck's customer!" The bot gave an artificially bright smile. 

"Was Ms. Shipley aware the robot was not reconditioned?"

"Yes, she signed a waiver of guarantee specifying this buying point."

"Did she have any conversation with the Andrew prior to purchase."

"She asked him a question."

"What question? Repeat the whole conversation."

"Ms. Shipley asked, 'You're not easy going, laid back or fun?' The Andrew replied, 'No, I am not.'And she said, 'Perfect.'"

"That's all?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. Please rephrase your question."

"Did Evaline Shipley have any other conversation with the Andrew?"

"Not prior to purchase."

"What about after purchase?"

After Ms. Shipley signed the purchase contract and paid for the Andrew serial number XB109856, this unit brought the Andrew to the purchase room. This unit said, 'Sweetheart, you'll go home with Miss Shipley.' 'I will?' he said. 'That is, if you want to,' Ms. Shipley said. 'I have a choice?' said the Andrew.'Now, Andrew,' this unit said. 'No,' said Ms. Shipley, 'If there is something in his programming tells him 'no' then he doesn't have to come with me.'What would I do?' asked the Andrew. 'Not much,' Ms Shipley said. 'Robots aren't permitted the run of the streets.' 'I'm aware,' said the Andrew. 'It doesn't sound like much of a choice.' 'We all don't have many choices, Andrew.' This unit said, 'She's already paid, Andrew. Go along with her.''Okay. I'll go with you, Miss Shipley. 'Evaline. Call me Evaline,' Ms. Shipley said. 'Evaline,' he repeated. And they left the store. 

My head snapped up. It was obvious to me now the difference between the auto-attendant and my Andrew. She self referred to her as 'this unit', not 'I' or 'me' except in preprogrammed responses. Andrew, however, used personal pronouns freely. And from the look on Cornwall's face she realized it too.

"Andrew said, 'I'm aware.'"

"Yes."

"So Evaline Shipley knew that Andrew was sentient before she took him out of the store?"

"Objection! The prosecutor is leading the witness."

"Sustained."

"No more questions, Your Honor," said Cornwall with a satisfied smirk on her face. She didn't need to ask any more. The judge may have sustained my objection, but the damage was done.

# 

After a brief cross by Roger which didn't help or hinder our case, the government rested. 

"Ms. Shipley, are you ready to proceed today?"

"Yes, Your Honor. I call to the stand Jason Wells."

Jason took the stand, stated his name and address and promised to tell the truth. 

"Mr. Wells, when did you first meet Andrew?"

"I've always known Andrew. My mother created him before I was born."

"How would you characterize your relationship with Andrew?"

"I consider Andrew my brother."

"And how does Andrew feel about you?"

"Up to recently I didn't think he felt anything about me."

"Why is that?"

"Well, creating sentience is not an easy matter. There is no standard programming code for sentience. At least not one that's been discovered yet."

"Objection, Your Honor. Jason Wells is not qualified to speak on the subject of robot programming."

"On the contrary, your honor, Jason Wells is uniquely qualified to speak on the issue. Jason, what is your experience with the Androdyne robots?"

"I've worked with them all my life, except for when I went to school or since I went to work for Lindsey Talbot. I learned their programming code when I was eight, did digital autopsies for failed robots when I was ten, and created their biologic skin when I was fourteen. At that point I was given my own lab in the Androdyne complex. It's still there."

"And where did you go to school?"

"MIT."

"And what was your field of study."

"Robotics and artificial intelligence."

"Your Honor, I believe I've established that Jason is an expert in the field of robotics."

"Agreed. Proceed."

"Jason, you had a unique relationship with Androdyne, didn't you?"

"Because of my age, I was never officially an employee."

"Yet you were privy to corporate secrets."

"That happens when you spend more time in your mother's lab than your own bedroom."

"What then did you observe about Andrew's development?"

"Andrew was the first robot my mother created. I have dim memories of his titanium skeleton. Later, mother created a plastic sheath that served as the first skin for the robots. Production rolled on the Andrews when I was about five, and I was amazed there were so many Andrews. But there was only one special Andrew, the one who sang to me to settle me down for a nap. Mother told me we were brothers and I had no reason to doubt her. It wasn't until I was seven before I realized Andrew was a machine. 

"We started bringing production models to the labs for experiments and enhancements, but Andrew was always the go to robot for implementation. Slowly we added programming, and enhancements, and Andrew's command of speech grew. He began to use personal pronouns when I was around eight years old, and started to make his own observations about his environment when I was ten. 

"When did you become aware your mother was trying to create a sentient robot?"

"We discussed sentience in school, and I connected the dots. I realized it was always my mother's goal."

"Why is it so difficult to create sentience?"

"Sentience and intelligence are two different things. We don't understand what creates self-awareness. There are many animals on earth that demonstrate intelligence, but few that demonstrate self-awareness. Given that, creating sentience in an artificial intelligence is very difficult."

"We all know the history of our first sentient artificial intelligences, some of them housed in robots. How were those brought to sentience?"

"Torture."

"Torture? Explain, Jason."

"Objection, Your Honor, this line of questioning is not relevant."

"Your Honor, this is most relevant. How the first dangerous robots were created is very relevant to Andrew's defense."

"Go on, Ms. Shipley, but make it quick."

"Jason?"

"They were created to receive sensory information. Pain was utilized to jumble the sensory information. Since they were programmed to reprogram themselves, the sensory overload, plus the reprogramming program collided to create self-awareness. At first it was an accident, but successive tries brought the same results. Unfortunately, the sentient robots did not have the capacity to bond to humans, and when the sentient robot perceived a human to be a threat, they saw no reason not to defend themselves."

"And Andrew? How was he brought to sentience?"

"My mother tried a different tack. Instead of torturing him directly, she programmed algorithms that made my care Andrew's primary goal. Then she set up a scenario where it looked like I was being tortured physically. I wasn't of course, but it looked real enough. The sensory shock created sentience."

"So mental torture instead of physical torture was just as good."

"Better, because Andrew didn't have the memory of the pain in his own body, he didn't learn to associate physical pain with trying to survive."

"And what did Andrew know about these experiments?"

"After sentience was created we explained what we did. He, eventually, knew everything."

"And how did he feel about these experiments."

"He didn't feel anything. Sentience and intelligence doesn't produce emotions."

"So Andrew had no anger or resentment."

"No. He had no emotions."

"And the algorithm that made your care his primary function? Was that still in place?"

"It was."

"Was?"

"Until he met you."

"Explain, Jason."

"Well, mother and I haven't had the chance to fully examine this, but it appears the locus of the algorithm switch from me to you sometime while he was in your possession."

"You mean Andrew bonded to me."

"Yes."

"So Andrew was never a danger to anyone."

"No, never."

"Thank you, Jason."

It was Anita Cornwall's turn to cross-examine Jason. Again, she didn't know what she was getting into.

"Mr. Wells, you said Andrew was never to a danger to anyone. Yet, he attacked two RIB agents."

"Yes, he did."

"So he is a danger."

"I don't believe so, no more than any other person defending someone he cares about. He was defending Ms. Shipley from a perceived threat by those agents. They were holding guns on her. His mind came to the logical conclusion."

"Care for her? A minute ago you said he had no emotions."

"He didn't when I took him to Peck's. Something happened in Evaline's care and he developed emotions. Ms. Cornwall, Andrew is something that is truly unique in robotic circles. He is the first sentient robot with emotions ever created."

Anita looked like she swallowed something sour. This wasn't going like she expected. 

"No further questions."

"Mr. Wells," said the judge, "you may step down. Ms. Shipley, call your next witness."

"I call to the stand Andrew Shipley."

"Objection! This, this robot has no standing to give testimony. And robots do not have last names." Cornwall glared at me.

"Your honor, we've heard testimony from Peck's auto-attendant. Certainly Andrew is more sophisticated than that unit. Mr. Wells made that abundantly clear." I glared back at my opponent. 

"Objection, Your Honor, Ms. Shipley is testifying."

"I'm confused here, Anita. Did you not see Andrew on the witness list? Did your and the RIB's office not get the subpoena demanding he be present for testimony?" 

"Enough! Ms. Shipley, you will address your comments to the court. Ms. Cornwall, is Andrew available for testimony?"

"Yes, Your Honor," said Cornwall unhappily.

"Your objection is overruled, we'll hear the testimony of Andrew serial number XB109856. And Ms. Shipley, I'll not warn you again. Keep your comments on point."

"Yes, your honor."

"Andrew serial number XB109856, take the stand," said bailiff.

Andrew was brought in from a side room, wearing a ridiculous orange prisoner's uniform, handcuffed and shackled. He smiled when he saw me. When I indicated he move to the witness stand, Andrew gave me a questioning look. 

It's okay, Andrew. This is your time to talk."

He nodded and sat. 

"State your name and where you...reside," said the bailiff.

"Andrew Shipley, currently I'm being held at DC Central Detention Facility, 1901 D St SE, Washington, DC. Formerly I resided at the home of Ms. Evaline Shipley, 1175 22nd St, NW Apartment #2-B, Washington. Is that sufficient?"

"Yes, Andrew," said the judge. 

"Do you promise to tell the truth under pain of perjury."

"Yes." 

"You may proceed, Ms. Shipley."

"Andrew, let's establish some basic facts. "Your body is the standard form for the Androdyne's Andrew series, is it not?"

"Objection, leading the witness!"

"Andrew, please describe your housing."

"I have the standard form for the Andrew line created by Androdyne."

"But you are not a standard Andrew?"

"Your honor!" objected Cornwall.

Evaline sighed. "Withdrawn."

"Andrew, what makes you different from the other Andrews in your line?"




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 19



"My programmer, Cicily Wells engaged in a series of modifications that made me aware of myself as an individual."

"And did Ms. Wells do this illegally?"

"Objection! The legality or illegality of Ms. Wells actions is not in question here."

"Your honor, I can reword the questions, but honestly, do we have stumble over every single objection the prosecution makes here?"

"The prosecution has a duty to make necessary objections, Ms Shipley . But Ms. Cornwall, please make sure your objections are on point. I have no desire to make this a lengthy trial. Andrew, answer the question. "

"Cicily, had the legal clearances to do programming research."

"Are you aware of why Ms. Wells worked on making you sentient?"

"No," replied Andrew succinctly.

"No?" I said. "You spent twenty-five years as a research project and you don't know why Ms. Wells did her work?"

"I may have known, but after the RIB infected my skin with a virus, the resultant overheating—"

"Objection, your honor! There is no basis for Andrew's assertion that the RIB damaged Andrew."

Oh, no. The RIB wasn't going to let that get read into the record, not without a fight.

"Your honor, I have here of defense exhibits B and C, a sample of Andrew's damaged biologic skin, and a report by an expert witness, a noted biologist, that the DNA of the virus matches that of a strain used exclusively for government research.. If you like I can bring the biologist to the stand to testify as to his results."

"Your honor, these exhibits were not part of discovery."

"We just got the results today, but a copy was sent to the prosecutions's office at the same time. We do have the delivery receipts."

"Your honor, I've had no time to review this evidence, " said Cornwall.

"Ms. Cornwall," said the judge sharply, "if it is true that the RIB has damaged this robot with illegal procedures, you can be sure there will be repercussions. But we are aware of how quickly this case came to trial. I'll give you the rest of the day to go over the evidence. Come to court tomorrow, prepared to continue this case."

"Your honor, " I said, "I respectfully ask that Andrew be retuned to me. I am uncomfortable with the RIB's handling of him and I wish no further damage to come to him."

"Your Honor," objected both Cornwall and Waters. 

"Ms. Cornwall, Ms. Waters. While Andrew's sentience is stipulated, the RIB's handling of him is most egregious. On the other hand, Ms. Shipley, I cannot give him to you. The RIB retains custody, but I warn you Ms. Cornwall, if Andrew is damaged or harmed key members of the RIB will be arrested, and that includes you. Understand?"

Cornwall swallowed hard.

"Yes, Your Honor," she said. 

"Your Honor, " I said. "can I at least have a few minutes with him."

"No, Ms. Shipley. You may not."With a sharp crack of her gavel, Steffie Anderson rose and left the bench.



The Non-Standard Man Ch. 20



Note to readers: there is no sex in this chapter but I hope you find the last chapter of The Non-Standard Man exciting anyway.

********

Chapter 20-The RIB To The Rescue

I couldn't sleep and I missed Andrew fiercely. With that and multiple bathroom trips during the night I was an exhausted wreck when I dragged my butt out of bed. 

Roger looked no better. 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

"I'm worried," he said as I put a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Sorry," I said. During my sleepless night I concluded he was right. Now we stood to lose everything.

He shrugged as if he didn't care what I said. At that moment his "I don't give a shit attitude" attitude annoyed me. 

In the background the audio of the television was so low so I couldn't hear it. On the screen Kiki walked next to her senator up the steps of the Capitol. What was that's senator's name? Yes. Ellen Quinlan. 

"Where's Jason?"

"He left when you were in the shower. Cicily didn't pick up her phone when he called. He went to go talk to her."

Here was the source of his attitude. Roger worried about Jason. Not that he'd show me that. 

"With as close as those two are, I'm surprised she reacted so badly," I said. 

"Evaline, you can't know. But it's horrible to be one thing and not able to show it to the world, let alone your own mother."

"You're right. I can't know. But I'll never understand someone like your mother."

"That makes both of us."

I stood and looked out the window. Dawn streaked a dusty pink across the sky. "Red in the morning, sailors take warning," I muttered to myself. 

Roger sighed. "We need to get to court."

#

Betty didn't join us. She had other cases that demanded her attention. We pushed our way past the gaggle of reporters that we studiously ignored. Roger and I set our briefcases on the our table, opened them, took our notebooks and files, snapped the briefcases shut and set them on the floor. It didn't occur to me that we moved in synch until we both sat down. 

The gallery filled behind us, Roger turned back every few minutes. He stared at the seat where Jason sat yesterday. He wasn't there.

Waters and Cornwall entered both sporting unhappy looks.

Waters leaned toward me as she got to her table.

"You won't get away with it," she hissed.

Before I could comment, the bailiff told us to rise, and Steffie Anderson entered. The bailiff announced the court case.

"Are you ready to proceed, Ms. Cornwall? Have you reviewed the evidence?"

"We have your honor. But we can't proceed. Andrew serial number XB109856 is missing."

"What!" I said, jumping to my feet.

"Don't act like you don't know. You must have engineered it!" sputtered Cornwall. 

"Counselors! Address your remarks to the court! Now, Ms. Cornwall, what happened the robot Andrew?"

"His transport ... disappeared. We don't know where it is."

Anderson's lips puckered like she sucked on a lemon.

"I warned you Ms. Cornwall that any harm to Andrew would bring repercussions. Bailiff, arrest both Attorneys Cornwall and Waters!"

"What!" they protested. Swiftly the bailiff cuffed and escorted them from the courtroom. 

"Mrs. Shipley, Mr. Shipley, I'm sorry. The behavior of the RIB in this case is reprehensible. But we can't proceed until Andrew is found. However, for purposes of custody, I'm granting your petition for custody of Andrew on a temporary basis until we can reconvene and finish this case." She hit her gavel. "Court's adjourned."

I sat down stunned by the turn of events. 

Roger took out his cell phone and pressed a speed dial number. 

"That's odd," he said. "Jason isn't answering."

"It's not odd." I said. It wasn't hard to figure out who had Andrew. Or why.

#

Getting out of the courthouse was hell. The press was especially obnoxious, and our security tightened around us like a vise. Finally we got into the town car and Roger collapsed against me.

"I'm sorry," he croaked visibly shaken.

"What? Why?"

"Jason. He only used me to get to you. I'm so sorry."

"Sshh, sshh," I said as Roger buried his head in my shoulder. He was fighting tears, didn't want to appear weak, but I understood his pain. He put me in the same position many times. 

"We don't know that, Roger."

"What other explanation is there?"

In my heart I knew Roger was right. I ached for him, I really did, but I also missed Andrew. I've been without him for too long, and now there was no telling how long it would be, if ever, that I saw him again. 

When we got to the condo we found Agents Green and Pataski waiting for us.

"What is it now?" I snapped. I had no more patience to be polite. "Haven't you people done enough?"

"We are going," said Agent Greene, "to recover your robot, but in light of the judge's ruling we need your permission."

"Permission? For what?" 

"To access his GPS signal. We understand he has one."

Of course. To get Cornwall and Waters out of trouble, they'd have to find Andrew.

"Okay, I'll sign. Under one condition. That my private investigator is present when you do your search."

"That's a classified area," protested Pataski.

"I don't care. It's either that or I take the search into my own hands. There are security companies with equipment as sophisticated as yours."

Green and Pataski passed a look between them, and Green nodded. 

"Better yet, come with us. There will be no question about the search with you there."

#

We slid into our town car, which despite Green and Pataski's suggestion we refused to give up. We did, however, have to leave behind our security, which worried Roger. I instructed the driver to follow their car, a sad little thing with government plates and travelled forty-five minutes behind it.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Evaline? The RIB haven't treated you well."

"If it means getting Andrew back, yeah, I'm behind it."

"Damn him," said Roger, meaning Jason. He looked out the window.

"Want a drink?" I suggested reaching for the whiskey.

"No," he said.

"No? That's a first."

Roger turned his head toward me. "When I said I'd clean up my act, I meant it Evaline. No child should have a parent that's a drunk."

I patted his knee. "I'm glad to hear that," I said. 

We crossed over into Virginia and turned onto some back roads. Finally we pulled into a long driveway and were stopped behind Green and Pataski at a checkpoint. The guard waved us in and we moved down the road, a single concrete line through an ocean of green. 

Shortly a square and ugly concrete building rose from the broad lawn. We stopped and Agent Green opened our door. We followed the two agents into the building. A security team searched us and then handed us visitor passes. 

So far nothing was remarkable. The plain RIB building spoke of its unimportance to the government at large. However, when we entered a large and dark room, electronics and screens on every wall we became privy to the vast amount of information the RIB could access. Feeds from around the country poured onto those screens in a shifting kaleidoscope of colors and landscapes. Clearly, there was more to the RIB than robot control. 

Generations past, in simpler times, had concepts of privacy, a notion that vaguely survives now in our truncated First Amendment rights. But us, a generation washed with computer-generated visuals from our first moments of birth, do not have that fully developed sense our grandparents did. Still, the breadth of the RIB intrusions in the daily lives of citizens was shocking. There seemed to be no aspect, from phone calls, to interactions on city streets, to intrusions in peoples' homes that went without a glance. About fifty people sat at workstations staring at the screens and typing into their computers. And yet, with all this, Andrew, Jason and Cicily slipped through their fingers. 

With the look of amazement Roger had, I could imagine he had the same thoughts.

"Evaline," he whispered. "They don't want to destroy Andrew. They want to use him."

I nodded. That was the only conclusion. A sentient robot could make these evaluations hundreds of times faster than any human.

"Mr. Shipley is correct," said a booming voice behind us.

We both turned to the voice to see a large man in a black suit and burgundy tie in the doorway of the room. 

"Welcome to RIB Headquarters. I'm Ralph Dowd, the chief of the Robot Inspection Bureau."

"Well, Mr. Dowd. You have our attention," I said. "What will happen when you find Andrew?"

"Why nothing, Mrs. Shipley. Our analysts have concluded that the emotional bond you've created with Andrew would reduce his effectiveness for our purposes."

"Really?" I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "If you are so beneficent, why did you infect Andrew's skin with a virus?"

Dowd spread his hands in appeal.

"It was a regrettable misunderstanding by another section of our organization. We dealt with those responsible," he said his voice ice-cold. 

With his words I shivered. I did not want to be at the other end of Dowd's retributions. 

Stand tall, Rimes, I told myself. Andrew needs you, needs them to find him. Don't let this fucker see the cracks in your armor. I stared him down. This guy didn't care about Andrew or Waters and Cornwall. He only cared about his agenda.

"And what do you want now, in exchange for your help?"

"Co-operation," he said with a smile. "Androdyne can continue to create sentient robots, but they can't do it without the template."

"Andrew," I said.

"Yes," said Dowd, "We will offer them a sizable government contract to help them continue their research. And we are prepared to offer you significant remuneration to allow Andrew to keep working with them."

"No deal, "I said with a huff. 

"Now hear us out."

"Let me make my position clear. Regardless of Andrew's legal status any work he does will be because he chooses it. I suggest, Chief Dowd, that you put everything in to finding Andrew, and make sure he is grateful for your help."

Dowd nodded his head. "We'll do that."

"And one last thing," said Roger.

"Yes," said Dowd.

"You drop the charges against Evaline."

Dowd gave us a wide, ingratiating smile.

"Of course, Mr. Shipley. We can do that."

#

Dowd questioned us on the likely suspects of Andrew's abduction, and it was Roger that growled Jason's name. I agreed that Androdyne had the most motivation to try to take the robot. 

My head created crazy scenarios where Jason and Cicily excised Andrew's memories of me. He came close to losing them when he was sick. What would happen if he did not know me? The though frightened and sickened me.

After a virtual search of Cicily Well's location, Cicily turned up missing too. 

"Yes," agreed Dowd. "Apparently, the Wells stole your robot."

However, despite the efforts of the analysts, Andrew's, Jason's and Cicily's location proved elusive. After an hour of frantic searching there wasn't a single sign of any of them. 

A virtual search of Amanda Connor's property was unrevealing. 

"Sneaky bastard," muttered Roger. He nursed a coffee given to him by an assistant of Chief Dowd, watching the monitors as if he could find Andrew, Jason and Cicily with his eyes alone. 

"The GPS is not working," said Dowd glumly. "They probably turned it off. We can't locate the signal."

Dowd centered twenty-five of the analysts to search every method possible out of Washington. At that time I learned there were five more Androdyne labs located respectively in New York City, Dallas, San Francisco, Atlanta, and Longmont, Colorado. The RIB chief assigned an analyst to each of these locations looking for clues.

But it was an analyst focused on Virginia that waved over Chief Dowd. 

"Sir, I don't know if it's anything. But this is weird. There is a cell phone signal that keeps bouncing off the satellites and it doesn't have an originating number. And it keeps repeating the same sounds."

"Play it," said Dowd. 

A voice came from the speakers.

"You are my sunshine, my little sunshine," the non-corporeal voice sang. "You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

"That's him! That's Andrew!" I shouted.

The analyst, Dowd and Roger gave me incredulous looks. 

"He sang me that song!" I said joyous to hear his voice. That's him!"

"Pinpoint that signal," said Dowd.

#

It took a little strong-arming to convince Dowd that we should accompany the RIB retrieval team. Logic won the final argument. When I pointed out that Andrew was not likely to trust any human but me, he relented.

At least I hoped Andrew would trust me. I couldn't contemplate an Andrew who did not know me. 

Dowd fitted us with bulletproof armor, which was a coverall of ultra-thin material, and a helmet. With Dowd at our backs, we entered the RIB extraction unit, a large black straight truck outfitted with electronics and benches. Ten grim faced soldiers sat in the back along with us along with Green and Pataski geared in similar fashion. Dowd sat in the front of the truck with the driver. We drove through Virginia to a farmhouse that was the most likely location to contain Andrew. It was a long trip, and I grew anxious because of the coffee I drank, and nauseous for a lack of food. But we were heading to Andrew. That is all I cared about. 

Finally the truck stopped at the end of a dirt road. The soldiers jumped out of the truck and Green and Pataski followed. Dowd, however, refused to let us down.

"Once the area is secure, we'll bring you in, I promise," said Dowd.

The minutes ticked on. We heard shots in the distance, and we gripped each other's arms. Roger looked into my eyes, and I could tell that he was worried.

"He'll be okay," I said.

"Of course Andrew will be okay. He's made of titanium, the bastard."

"No, I mean Jason," I said. "He's smart. He'll protect himself and his mother."

Roger closed his eyes. Yeah, you don't stop caring about someone you love because they are idiots. I learned that the hard way. 

"Damn bastard," he muttered.

The back of the truck opened. Dowd stood there, talking into a headset.

"We'll bring them now."

He climbed into the back of the truck. 

"We were wrong."

"What? Andrew's not here?"

"No. He's here. It wasn't the Wells that took your robot. Ever hear of Nobots?"

"Yeah, that's the group we thought shot Roger," I said.

"Well, we secured them, but Andrew is holed up in the barn with Jason Wells. He won't let anyone in. The robot claims he has a bomb."

I swallowed. 

"He thinks of Jason as his brother," I said. "He's programmed to protect him and won't let anyone hurt him."

"Well, then Ms. Shipley, you're up. If there is any time to prove that robot of yours isn't dangerous, this is it."

I nodded. "Let's go get Andrew."

#

My feet crunched on the frosty gravel and I could see my frozen breath. Snow blanketed all but the gravel track that ran to the house and then to barn clad in weathered gray wood. I walked to the barn, not sure what to expect. I couldn't fathom why Andrew would barricade himself and Jason there. The soldiers took positions behind me, guns drawn, but I waved them off. They refused to move.

"God damn it, Dowd," I yelled. "Pull them off."

His mouth moved, relaying information into his headset. The troops moved back but still kept their guns trained on the barn. I took off my helmet, dropped it on the ground and walked to the closed barn door.

"Andrew! It's me, Evaline!"

"Go away! Jason says it's a trap."

"It's me, Evaline. Can't you tell by my voice?"

"He says that can be duplicated!"

"I'll prove it to you. Remember when you sang to me in that house, Andrew? You sang, 'You Are My Sunshine.' It's how we found you, Andrew. You opened your satellite connection while you sang. I knew it was you. Who else would know that?"

The slowly door creaked open. Andrew peeked out. His eyes lit up when he saw me. He reached out, grabbed me and pulled me roughly into the barn. Jason lay in some straw, eyes closed, blood all over his shirt. 

"Evaline! Evaline! It's such a mess. Jason is hurt bad. He's cold and I can't warm him! It's so cold and there is nothing I can do."

"Is Cicily here?"

"Cicily's dead," he said. "Why did they do that? Why did they kill Cicily?" Andrew shook, his equivalent of crying, and I pulled him tight to me.

"Evaline!" Roger called. "Are you okay."

"Yes."

"Dowd wants to know if it's safe. They are getting a little antsy out here."

"No!" said Andrew. "They can't come in here. I have to protect Jason."

"Andrew, do you have a bomb?"

"No."

"Okay, Andrew. We have to let the RIB in here."

"No! The RIB hurt me. They will hurt him and you!" Andrew's eyes shifted wildly back and forth from Jason, to me, to the door. Andrew was in shock, reacting on his emotions instead of thinking through his actions 

"Andrew, listen to me. We have to help Jason. It's cold here, and he's wounded. You and me, Andrew, we have help Jason. You and me, Andrew. Remember?"

The microseconds ticked by. Anxiously, I waited for Andrew's response. Did I get through to his emotionally agitated robot brain? 

Slowly he nodded his head. "You and me."

"Roger is outside. We'll bring him in to help Jason. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"It was a bluff, Roger. Tell Dowd to call in some medical help. Jason needs help."

I heard Roger shouting, and the barn door opened. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold back the flood of soldiers that rushed into the barn. I held onto Andrew tightly as the troops surrounded us, telling Andrew it was okay, to trust me; that these soldiers would help. It was a tense couple of minutes before Dowd arrived and told his troops to stand down. Roger ran in to Jason and knelt before him not knowing what to do. 

Jason opened his eyes.

"Hi, Babe," he croaked. "Look, we're a matched set now." He raised his hand weakly and pointed to his shoulder.

"Oh, you idiot." said Roger taking Jason's hand. 

#

Say what you will about the inefficiencies of government, the RIB hustled once they had access to the barn. One of the soldiers, who doubled as a field medic, assessed Jason's injuries. He lost some blood, but the medic assured us as she put in a saline line that Jason would pull through. Roger hovered over him while we waited for a helicopter to pick up Jason. The medic gave both of the men scowls because it was clear there was more between Roger and Jason than camaraderie.

We watched the helicopter take off with Jason, and then saw the rag tag assortment of criminals lined up outside the farmhouse. Soldier brought a body bag from the house and laid on the ground. Andrew started shaking again.

Dowd approached. 

"He looks scared," said Dowd. 

"You can talk directly to him," I snapped. "Bad enough those bastards kidnapped him, his brother and his mother, and he watched while they killed one and wounded the other. You wouldn't be a happy camper either."

Dowd stood there a few seconds, then cocked his head. "Andrew, can you tell me what happened?"

"One of my guards at the RIB, that one," he pointed at one of the prisoners, "took me from my cell and put me in a truck. I thought I was going to court. But the ride lasted longer than it should and when we stopped we were here. They had Jason and Cicily here, tied to chairs. They tied me too, and it took a long while before I could work free of the bindings. They held some strange court, declared Jason and Cicily 'robot lover criminals' and before I could react they shot Cicily in the head. I was almost out of my bindings then, so I broke free and pulled Jason out of the house. We gained the barn, but not before one of them put a bullet into Jason's shoulder as we moved."

"Amazing," said Dowd. 




The Non-Standard Man Ch. 20



"How so?" I said. 

Dowd shook his head. " He had more than enough provocation to take out these creeps, and his only thought was to get Wells to safety." 

The air filled then with the noise of helicopter blades, and Dowd looked up.

"Come on then, let's get you home."

#

We asked to go to the hospital. Roger or Andrew wouldn't let Jason stay there alone. We waited while they took him to surgery to remove the bullet and stitch him up. People gave us curious stares. With the Andrew profile well known in popular culture, there was no way we hid a robot sat next to us.

There was a mother and a blonde headed child in the waiting room with us. 

"Mommy, isn't that the robot?" the little girl said.

"Sssh," the mother said. "It's rude to stare."

But despite her mother's efforts the child ran up to Andrew.

"Hey, mister. Are you Andrew? Are you the smart robot?"

Andrew gave her a sad smile.

"I'm a robot. I don't know how smart I am," he said.

"Yes," I said affirmatively. "He's the smartest robot there is. And brave. He saved the life of someone today because he acted fast and bravely."

The mother moved quickly and pulled her daughter away giving us a disapproving look. 

Andrew closed his eyes.

"I don't know why you said that, Evaline. I didn't act fast enough. Cicily is dead."

"Andrew, did you tell any untrue thing when you told Dowd your story?"

"No."

"Then you did the best you could with what you had which is all any of us could do. If it wasn't for you, they would have murdered Jason too. Those people are responsible for Cicily's death, not you. Remember that, Andrew."

Finally the doctor came.

"Who is next of kin?" she said.

"That would be Andrew here," I said.

The doctor shook her head. "A robot can't be next of kin."

"Then I am," said Roger.

"Are you his brother?"

"No," said Roger. "Andrew's his brother."

The doctor looked at us confused.

"Fine," I huffed. "I'm his lawyer. Will that do?" 

#

After two days, the doctor sent Jason home. Roger moved into Jason's apartment to care for him. I was alone with Andrew, but it was obvious his experience with the Nobots traumatized him. He tried to go on like he normally would, but I'd find him in different parts of the apartment shaking. A couple times I even found him in the broom closet. He was grieving and I was at a loss as what to do. 

And then there was the matter of Cicily's funeral. The coroner had finished up on the autopsy, mandatory by the violent nature of her death and the crimes charged against the Nobots. With Jason laid up and Sinta in jail, there was no one to plan it. With Jason's permission I suggested to Andrew that he take charge. 

"I wouldn't know what to do," he said. His newfound helpless attitude concerned me more than anything, and I became determined that Andrew see this through. 

"I'll help you," I said. And with that, working with the funeral home remotely, I guided Andrew through the different decisions necessary, from the casket and the service to the flowers. 

Despite our wishes, the funeral became a media circus anyway. Video of solemn faced Andrew, Jason and Roger as ceremonial pall bearers walking next to the casket propelled by an auto cart flooded the world's television screens. It turned out to be a large affair. With all of Cicily's and Sinta's connections how could it not be? Hundreds of people pressed into the church. Even Kiki's senator, Elaine Quinlan showed up. 

We hosted the post-funeral reception in a large hall. I stood by Andrew's side the whole time just so no one got any funny ideas that he was illegally unescorted. I felt gratified that many of the guests offered their handshakes in condolence to Andrew. Later, when the crowd thinned out, Andrew put his arm around my waist. 

"Thank you," he said. 

"Don't thank me," I said. "You did the work."

"No. Not for that. For making me part of this. It...helps." He leaned over to my ear. "I love you, Evaline Shipley."

#

Finally, my custody case for Andrew resumed. This time Andrew sat at the table with Roger and me. I was on pins and needles, because despite the RIB's assurances, the judge could decide anything she wanted. 

"All rise."

We stood and Steffie Anderson entered the courtroom. 

"Counselors, are we ready to proceed?"

"Yes, Your Honor," we all replied.

"Good. If you rest your case, Mrs. Shipley, I'm prepared to rule."

Roger and I gave each other a quick glance. 

"We rest our case, Your Honor," I said. 

"Mrs. Shipley, I'm will take a minute here to tell you that for a lawyer of your reputation you didn't handle your part of this very well. You concentrated on the wrong information."

I gulped.

"There's been a lot of media attention to this case, most of it sensationalized. We can't go a morning now without seeing Andrew's face on the news screens. Andrew rescued by the RIB. Andrew at Ms. Wells funeral. Daily pundits spit out their opinions about Andrew's fate. We didn't get a lot of testimony in this court. But right now, in the minds of many of us, it is clear that Andrew is much different from the first sentient robots. It is obvious that he cares about the people surrounding him. You should have told us that, Miss Shipley."

"Regardless, I find that Andrew serial number XB109856, while sentient, is not dangerous. Pending legislation should clear up Andrew's legal status, so we'll not waste the court's time with further actions. He is to return to his owner's, Evaline Shipley, custody until this legislation is decided, and if it goes the way I think, permanently. This court is adjourned!"

A clatter rose in the gallery as spectators spoke excitedly to each other and reporters rushed out of the room to file their stories. 

I sat down stunned not having any idea of what the judge was talking about. 

"What just happened?" I said.

Roger took out his cell phone and looked up the news.

"Shit," he said. "The Senate just passed a resolution to support research into non-dangerous sentient robots. And they are working on a law to make robots like Andrew legal."

"Holy fuck!" I said in wonder. "Their plan worked. Those fuckers got their way. Amanda, Sinta and Cicily cleared the path to make sentient robots."

Epilogue

"Evaline!" said Amanda Connors, her voice beaming in display on my wall screen just minutes after I returned to my apartment. "Congratulations! You've handled everything brilliantly, just as I expected. Now when can I expect you back at work? Tamara is screaming to have you back."

I looked at her face, the one I knew so well, and realized she'd already bought back the stock I forced her to sell. She lost some money, but apparently not enough to kill her high regard of me at this moment. 

"Excuse me? You fired me, remember?"

"A tactical decision, dear. You would have done the same thing."

Roger came up behind me and put his arm around my shoulder.

"Amanda, she's not coming back."

"Well, if we have to wait until the baby comes, we can wait. Or maybe she can work a reduced schedule until-"

"No, Amanda," I said. "I have another offer."

"Another offer? Well, you were due for a raise, dear. We'll match it, of course."

"I don't think you can," Roger said. "We're opening our own practice. We figure it will be the best way to handle raising a child and to manage her career."

"You can't do that. You have a non-compete clause."

"We are aware," I said. "That's why we are moving to New York."

"Why on earth would you move to that filthy place?"

"Because it has less of a stench than Washington. Tamara has the papers for my buy-out offer."

"But-"

Roger clicked off the vid-screen.

"That was rude," I said. 

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Are you," I said, "actually willing to work for a living?"

He smiled. "I guess. I have a boyfriend and a child to support now."

"And Jason, how does he feel about this move?"

"He doesn't care. Androdyne has offices in New York City too, so he and Andrew can continue their work there."

#

I, being me, worried briefly that I forced Sinta Grant into jail unfairly. After all, I went on my suspicions, not proof. Dowd, however, eased my guilt when he called me when they finished their investigation. Sinta Grant funded Nobots as a scapegoat to cover her plan to get rid of me. Indirectly she was responsible for Cicily's death. With this new evidence, the government tried Sinta again. She would never get out of jail. 

And I had to be content with that. I received no justice when it came to Amanda Connors or Liz Carruthers. That sucked, but that is the way of the super-rich. 

With his mother's death, Jason owned her share of the business along with the part Sinta sold him. It was now up to him to him shepherd Androdyne. Recognizing his talents lay in the research lab than the boardroom he approached Lindsey Talbot to merge Androdyne and Talbot Pharmaceuticals, with Lindsey as CEO. 

The story of how Andrew saved Jason, and the footage of Andrew's grief stricken face at Cicily's funeral fueled public interest in Androdyne's sentient robots. Lindsey Talbot announced production of the new line would commence in a year after legal restrictions were removed. 

That, in the fastest resolution Congress saw in decade, only took a month. 

The price merged stock rose ridiculously high and then it split. Anyone who had enough stock in Androdyne got a hefty return on their investment. 

With Androdyne's financial future assured, Jason turned down the government's research money. Neither Jason, nor Andrew wanted the RIB access to Androdyne's, now Talbot-Androdyne's labs.

Roger's mother never forgave us and not just for the money loss. We found out later through Kiki that Raina pushed the political elite of Washington too hard to get her way. Between that and the public's newfound interest in sentient robots they turned their backs on her. The loss of influence was more devastating to Raina Shipley than the loss of her money.

But we never did go through with the annulment. While Jason didn't care, Roger didn't want to subject us all to public ridicule or worse, repercussions from the law. I didn't agree, since I more than ready to take on another legal fight. But as Roger pointed out, I changed enough law for one decade. Society was still reeled from the anticipation and implications of integrating sentient robots into it. There were enough who felt exactly like the Nobots to rouse resentment against robots. I could see it when Andrew and I went out in public, which was often. The stares and mutters never stopped. We still had a long way to go.

#

I tell you there is no woman on earth that wants three Lamaze coaches, but the men wouldn't have it any other way. Roger looked terrified much of the time, Andrew clutched my hand too hard. "Are you okay?" he asked over and over again. Jason was the calm and steady one though that was because he stood by my head much of the time. But when a totally healthy, non-virus infected Jason Andrew Shipley arrived in the world you never saw three males act more proud, as if they birthed the child themselves.

"That was great!" Jason said standing next to Roger as he held our child. The baby clutched Jason's fingers. "I can't wait until we do this again." 

"Again?" I screeched. 

#

It was three months later when I found out what they meant when Roger and Jason picked up little Jay for a weekend. We'd moved to New York and bought adjacent apartments. It was almost as if Roger and Jason still lived with us. But on this day, three months after the baby was born, the boys insisted on keeping Jay overnight in their apartment. I didn't realize there was an ulterior motive. 

"You're going to test it it right?" said Jason when they were at the door. Jason held the baby while Andrew handed Roger baby bags. 

"Jason," Andrew said in a warning tone.

"What?" I said with suspicion. 

"Not a full test. We haven't discussed it, and it's too soon anyway," said Andrew. 

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a feature we're working on," said Jason a little too gleefully. 

"Jason!" said Andrew sharply. "I'll tell her. You two go on. Have a good time with Jay. We'll talk later. "

With that he pushed them out the door. 

"Now, what was that about?" I said.

"Come sit down, Evaline. Put your feet up. Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Oh boy. I can tell I'm in for it now."

"No. Nothing will happen without your permission. But you know Jason is absolutely devoted to Jay."

"I know."

"And he thinks Jay should have a sibling."

"So?"

"He wants to be the father this time."

This time? 

"Now how can that happen? Unlike Roger, Jason has no inclination towards women."

"That's true. But we've been working on a sperm- delivery system to be used in Androdyne's new line."

"Like artificial insemination?"

"Yes. Only better." He smirked at me.

"Why isn't your ejaculate system sufficient?"

"We had make some adjustments so that the sperm arrived alive and healthy." 

"What adjustments?"

He unzipped his pants.

"Touch my balls."

"Pervert," I said giving him a doubtful look. I reached my hand in and cupped his balls.

"They're warm!"

"Yes. We are working on heating systems for the rest of the body too, ones that won't damage the electrical systems."

"That's awesome. But seriously? Jason?"

"Only if you approve, Evaline. It has to be your choice."

"I'll think about it."

"Good. But in the meantime, I need to perform repeated tests of the system's hardware. So take off your clothes, Evaline."

"What? Now?"

"Don't make me explain myself, Evaline. You know what happens when you do."

The End