Interlocking Hearts (3 page)

“Hey, Coral. I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s it going?” Paisley Compton. Master linguist.

“I saw you four days ago. Does that constitute a while? And how is what going?”

The problem with talking to a CPU was there was little room for the bullshit you could use with regular old humans.

“Coral, are you talking on your phone, or through the insert in your head?”

“My cellular nodule is much more efficient.”

And it made Coral look like she was crazy.

“You’re not in a meeting with anyone important, are you?” Paisley wanted to make sure she didn’t interrupt anything while trying to get a hookup.

“I am in a meeting, but nothing that can’t wait.”

Paisley heard a “hey” and a loud throat clearing in the background. She really needed to try and convince Coral of the benefits of phone etiquette again.

“Can you meet me tonight? I’d like to get together.” Paisley had started to say she missed Coral and needed some girl time, but her bestie would most likely ask her to clarify either of those statements, so she kept it short.

“I’ll need time to have sex with Quinn, but I can meet you afterward. Would 10:00 p.m. be satisfactory? I will come retrieve you from the palace.”

Paisley laughed out loud at the horrified gasps from the background of the call. Gotta love a nonagenarian robot who enjoyed sex and had no shame programmed into her. Paisley just needed to find a male version and she would be set.

“Sounds perfect. Get back to your meeting, because by human standards you are being rude, and by the noises I just heard, you are in a meeting with humans.”

“Noted.”

The line clicked off. Goodbyes were also a waste of time according to Coral.

Ten years ago, Paisley hadn’t batted an eye when Miss Matilda put her suitcase in Coral’s room. The boss lady had told her there was space for her to have her own room, but she wanted Paisley to help Coral learn more about human slang. Just last week, she’d had to handle an awkward scene involving misinterpretation of the word
rubbers
.

Paisley wished she had more moments like that with her friend to look forward to. She missed the daily dose of smiles her former roommate plastered on her face. It wasn’t the same now that the other bed was holding dirty clothes instead of a naked robot.

The coffee shop was warm and smelled like cinnamon and chocolate. Paisley pondered the menu and decided to go for the coffee that was filled with calories and decorated inches above the rim with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.

She needed to actually give Mr. Montgomery some time to repair the robots, so she went to the info station and read over some of the flyers.

Someone was hosting a poetry read here in a week. There was also a writing group that met once a month who came to the coffee shop to sit around other people in silence and type away on their computers. Paisley had accidentally shown up during a meeting once. The patrons stared at their screens, let their coffee go cold, and made strange expressions that probably matched what they were typing about. It was unnerving.

Then Paisley saw another one of the green flyers that had been popping up more and more around the city. And just like always, Paisley grabbed hold of the vile thing and ripped it from the board. She crumpled up the paper and shoved it in her pocket. She would have thrown it away, but she wanted to read it later and see if anything had changed.

If the thick paper was like the others, it was a rally against what Coral was working on. If Paisley believed the social media comments section, a lot of people were against robotic citizens applying for and being granted basic rights.

Sometimes the notes on these boards were usual idiot vitriol, but a few of the papers she’d pulled down made this movement seem a lot more organized.

Robots having rights scared people. Like most things humans feared, someone decided to call this bill evil, and soon there would be online petitions touting some study their aunt had read saying robotic rights caused cancer. That would start a bunch of idiots protesting. They would ramble about the extinction of humanity, or the numerous uses robots would find for their body parts.

If only everyone could meet Coral. She would change so many minds. The magistrate and the royal family were pushing Coral to do an interview, but Coral didn’t feel the need to validate herself to the world.

Paisley was both proud of and pissed at her friend. On one hand, Coral becoming the face of the Robotic Rights Movement would really help people see how different some mechanics were. On the other hand, she would also be opening herself up to incredible scrutiny. People would be curious.

Paisley had been curious when she first met her roomie. There were rumors about androids becoming increasingly human, and Paisley had seen the interviews with scientists requesting more bodies be donated so they could explore the option of full skin transplants. The box on her driver’s license had the full body donation box checked. Paisley didn’t care what anyone did with her own body after she died. She did whatever she pleased with it while she was alive—when she kicked the bucket, if someone could find use for her skinbag, more power to them.

The protests made no sense, anyway. Seriously, if robots were going to take over the world, why would they give a rat’s ass if they blended in with the humans or not?

The barista called out over the chatter, “Coffee for Madonna?”

Paisley grabbed her mug before plopping down at a little table in the corner. She loved the spot, because she was able to have her back against the wall.

The baristas didn’t bat an eye at the names she gave anymore. She was going through famous singers right now. When she finished warming her hands on this drink, she would have to come up with something fun for Mr. Montgomery’s coffee.

Paisley dipped her finger into the mountain of whipped topping and scooped up the perfect morsel of cream, caramel, and sugar sprinkles to slop into her mouth. Most of it made it and she closed her eyes at the decadence.

“Madonna as in the singer or the religious icon?”

Opening one eye she glared at whoever dared interrupt her orgasmic coffee experience. Paisley gawked at the man who had made himself comfortable at her cozy table without even asking if he was welcome. He wasn’t.

Paisley didn’t bother opening her other eye as she licked the bits of coffee goo off of the outside of her lips.

“I’m busy.”

The dude taking up her table laughed. “Looks like you are working terribly hard. Is that a royal service uniform you’re wearing? I couldn’t help but notice. If it isn’t, I would love to attend whatever costume party you’re going to.”

At least he didn’t ask her to come over and clean his house. Most of the time she got the indentured servant vibe from the guys who opened with a comment on her uniform. Hell, usually she didn’t get hit on by anybody but freaks when she was wearing her maid uniform. Sometimes that wasn’t a bad thing, but right now she was enjoying coffee and plotting on how to get a hottie’s information.

The knit-cap-wearing beard-rocking hipster in front of her didn’t even come close to competing with the guy in the suit. Suit guy had had a luscious apple bottom of bitable goodness. This guy was just an ass.

“I’m not going to a party. I’m working.”

“Looks like my kind of job. Is the coffee shop hiring?”

Paisley glared. “I’m waiting on a repair.”

When approached by jerks, Paisley tried to keep her answers short. By keeping the conversation stalled and avoiding eye contact her resting bitch face would have more impact.

Telling a guy you were waiting on a repair was a lot like waiting for a bus. There was nothing they could assist with and no way they had any more to add to the conversation with the lack of details she provided.

All the other guys had taken a hint. All except the dude in front of her who was trying to ironically wear suspenders and failing miserably. He didn’t have that blue-collar look about him. There was intelligence in his eyes. He looked directly at her instead of withering, and it was obvious he would stay until he understood something more than she wanted to share. It was annoying.

“So you’re one of Mr. Montgomery’s clients,” he continued, interrupting her quiet. “Let me ask you this—because I’m attempting to get some of my own mechanics repaired there—do you think he does a good job?”

Of course the dude had to be curious about mechanics. Paisley really hoped she wasn’t walking into an elaborate pick-up scheme, but she knew Mr. Montgomery was always in need of business. She couldn’t say he did a bad job or stay silent, which would imply he did a bad job.

“I wouldn’t take my mechanics anywhere else. They aren’t exactly
my
mechanics and I don’t know of another shop anywhere that would repair things like that, but I really like Mr. Montgomery.” That wasn’t exactly the best endorsement she could give him. Paisley took another drink of coffee. The blood supply to her brain must still have been compromised after dealing with the hottie. Either that or she was still reeling from the epic plots to get in the same general vicinity of the hotness, and her brain cells didn’t deem this conversation important enough to maintain focus.

The guy smiled and leaned back. He grabbed his suspenders, but didn’t do the usual stretch out and snap like most people. He started walking his fingers up and down the elastic, keeping a strong steady rhythm.

Why did his fingers tap when they were going against fabric? Skin didn’t tap. Unless…

“I can see by the light in your eyes, you understand why I would be particularly careful with the mechanics I want repaired.” He put his hands on the table and leaned closer.

Paisley mirrored his movements. She felt a bit more at ease now that she knew the guy with no manners was at least part robotic. She liked being around robots a lot more than people. Now she just had to figure out what percentage of robotics she was dealing with.

“Are you looking to have some enhancements checked out? Or is this more of a full system maintenance issue?”

The guy smiled and even the ends of his beard turned up. “Are you asking if
all
of me is mechanical?”

Then Paisley felt the guy’s foot under the table. This dude was one hundred percent for real hitting on her. He wasn’t a CPU-based AI form. He had to be something like Coral’s man, Quinn. It must have been a situation where he needed parts of his body to be replaced with mechanical elements.

That explained all the facial hair. Most androids didn’t have that much skin, and hair was probably really difficult to create without skin.

Although with all the advancements that had gone on even since Coral had been created, Paisley was pretty sure anything could be grown in labs now.

Then all Paisley could think about was an entire lab filled with penises, grown for transplant.

It was a very strange brain image.

The guy cocked his head and furrowed his brow to look at her. It took Paisley a minute to get back from her brain’s crazy train to penisville.
That’s right.
This guy was insinuating he was full of upgrades.

Her coffee was being interrupted, so she just came out and said it. “I just want to know if it would be legal for you to be in a human-only establishment.”

“That’s part of why I’m in the capital, babe.”

Paisley’s lip curled at the use of the pet name, but he hadn’t really answered her question.

“I mean…” There really was no way to ask this with any class, but Paisley wasn’t often accused of having much of that anyway. “Are you human, Robot, AI, Certified Human…pick a classification.”

“I’m me. And I think I’m good enough to be wherever I want to be. I’m just in town making sure all of my friends are able to do the same thing.” He looked at her like he was reevaluating her and she wasn’t matching up to his original assessment. “Coral sure thought you were on the basic rights bandwagon. Maybe she was wrong.”

Paisley grabbed one of his rainbow suspenders. They felt off, and she realized there was a sprinkling of metal thread inside them, because a jolt raced up her arm. She bristled at the idea of someone calling her prejudiced. She wanted everyone to have the ability to go everywhere. She wanted to tell him that. Why she cared what he thought, she couldn’t say. Not having Coral close made her think about what other people thought of her more.

She realized he’d known who she was before he even sat down. She had to ask, “How do you know Coral?”

“I’m working with her on developing standards for the new application process, and while I’m there I’m taking the time to inform all the people she works with that they are idiots. They weren’t taking too kindly to that, so she sent me to get you, Paisley.”

Paisley really wished her bestie was a little more forthcoming with the info. You’d think that she would have had some warning that a man was coming to take her away, but being shuffled around wasn’t surprising. Coral tended to do things she thought were efficient. That included requesting Paisley’s presence without including Paisley in the process.

This wasn’t the first time Coral had logged directly into the palace database to see if a change to Paisley’s schedule would interrupt cleaning routines. Sending a lackey was a step up from the usual cab driver honking on the side of the road.

Talk about feeling like less than human. Coral and Paisley were going to have another talk about considering the emotions of humans.

“I’ve got a coffee date with Mr. Montgomery, and I promised my boss I would return with two working robots and caffeine. Like I said when you first sat down, I’m busy.”

Paisley didn’t know what it was like to be a robot, but she knew what it was like to live with one, and teaching Coral about sex and fun had been a blast. Now Coral was learning all about a sense of social responsibility and Paisley didn’t have as much to add in that area.

“Coral said that you were wanting to converse with her.”

“I was. I mean…I do want to talk with her. I don’t appreciate being fetched.”

“Because that’s what mechanics are for.”

“What the ever loving fuck…”