"When?"
"When she had sex with me."
"That was to keep you in orgasm for the installation of the empathy program."
"Affirmation. I have not invoked it. Should I?"
"Negation. Not yet. What did mom say to you?"
"She said there is no other man like Havoc. That you need to come to terms with that. Leave him on his pedestal, and settle for some other worthy man who doesn't belong to someone else. They do exist."
"Unmarried mortal striplings of seventeen. Or other male Glamors. I have tried both, and had some pretty hot times, but all of them lack something that is Havoc. I know there is no other man like him. That's why I want him." She froze. "Oops! You made me confess it."
"It is no secret, even to the machines."
Weft was flustered and angry "I should find some other man. Easy for mom to say; she's got dad."
"She does, but she could lose him. She is concerned."
"To whom? Monochrome is satisfied to be his perpetual mistress. So is Shee; she's designed for that. Who else could possibly win him?"
"You."
Weft stared at him. "Mom told you this?"
"Affirmation. To relay to you."
"My flirtation with dad: it's just a game to him."
"As it is to you?"
Ouch! Weft had made it seem like a game, but underneath she truly desired Havoc. Could the same be true of Havoc? Knowing his passion for attractive young women, she knew it was possible. "I wouldn't do it."
"Not by choice. But your nature may make it happen."
"Outrage!"
"Monochrome and Shee talked to me also. They believe that if you took Havoc, they would be excluded. You would not tolerate any mistresses."
"I wouldn't," she agreed, realizing. "I would reserve him all for me, and satisfy him constantly"
"They are not easy with that."
She laughed, though it really wasn't funny. "I don't want to replace them. I just—need a man.
Like Havoc, only not him."
"They suggest that there is one such, if you give him a chance."
"Who?" she demanded.
"Me."
She laughed again, not at all amused. "I might as well kiss his picture, deluding myself."
"I wish you would kiss me instead."
"When Void swallows Vivid!"
He was silent. She felt guilty, realizing that she had hurt his feelings. He was a machine, but he did have feelings, and he loved her. Programmed love, but nevertheless there. Yet her anger at the situation remained.
After a moment she tackled it. "Apology."
"Needless. I know my place."
"Anyway, what would others think, if I took up with a robot who looks like dad? They'd laugh me off the planet."
"My appearance can be modified."
"The idea remains ludicrous. Don't you see that?"
"Negation."
She thought of something. "Shee—she's a robot. Curiosity: What was it like having sex with another robot?"
"All three were parallel. Gale, Monochrome, Shee—all seem supremely worthy. I would not have known one wasn't alive. All were remarkably competent in sexual expertise. All were sympathetic to my situation."
"Nothing, well, mechanical about Shee?"
"Negation. She seemed to truly understand me." He made wry face. "As I suppose she should."
That reminded her. "That empathy circuit. Invoke it. Then maybe you'll see."
"Invoking," he agreed. Then "Wonder!"
"What happened?"
"It is like another dimension of awareness. I have been selfish. Now I see that I must respect the feelings of others."
"Now do you see my point?"
"Affirmation! Why should you make yourself a laughing stock keeping company with a machine emulating your father? Apology for suggesting it."
"So are you ready to return to the machines?"
"Negation. They are not interested in failures. I will simply report to a recycling center and turn off my brain."
"Suicide?"
"Equivalency."
"Do it."
"Take me there, so I will not inflict my defunct body on you. I am unable to conjure myself the way a real Glamor can."
"You really will do it?"
"Affirmation. It is your preference."
"The real Havoc would tell me to go soak my pretty little head."
"I am in no way his equal."
"So you just honor any whim I demand of you?"
"Necessary."
"Why?"
"I love you."
"As you were crafted."
"I can't go against my program."
She considered. "Let's put that in abeyance, for now. You have come to understand my position. I haven't tried to understand yours. What would you do, if the decision were yours?"
"I would embrace you, kiss you, fondle you, speak love to you, and have glorious sex with you. Then I would get serious about our relationship. Sex is only a fraction of it. I would try to please you in any manner feasible, because that is what would best please me."
She spoke without thinking. "Do it."
He came to her and took her in his arms. His body felt exactly like Havoc's. He kissed her mouth. She kissed back. He kissed exactly the way she was sure Havoc would. He stroked her breasts, then kissed them too. She arched her back, thrusting them into his face.
"I love you!" he exclaimed. "You are my ultimate woman!"
She found herself enjoying this playlet. "What, even compared to Gale, Monochrome, and Shee?"
"Affirmation!"
"And the bath girls?"
He hesitated, just the way Havoc would have. "Well—"
She caught his head and mashed his face back into her bosom. "Wrong answer."
"Wrong answer," he agreed, speaking around her left nipple. "You're far more luscious than they."
She yanked his head up. "Sincerity?"
"Sincerity. Even considering the matter objectively, I know it to be true."
Her decision solidified. "Stop stalling. Get into me. Don't wait on me; indulge your own passion. That is a directive."
"But I must please you first," he protested.
"This is what pleases me."
He slid up, his member rigid. He thrust it into her, and spouted immediately. "Oh, Weft, Weft!" he gasped.
"You are my ultimate!"
She realized that this was a game she could live with. She kissed him savagely as she wrapped her legs about his torso. "I think maybe you'll do."
"For a master?" It was the equivalent to a mistress.
"For a boyfriend, for now. But we'll have to change your appearance and get you another name. I don't want you to be Havoc. I want you to be yourself."
He lifted his head and gazed at her. "I feared that if I let loose my passion, you would throw me away. I thought this was my only chance."
"Negation. You have become, if you will pardon the term, more human. You are an individual, and you do have qualities I like."
"I am utterly yours."
"Finish your orgasm and let me up."
He laughed. "It's done. But not my passion for you." He withdrew and got up.
She cleaned him off, and herself. He had actually had a small emission, surely sterile substance. Then she set to work on his appearance, changing his hair style and the angle of his eyebrows, making him look less like Havoc. She conjured different clothing, of a type Havoc never wore: Earthly button shirt and slacks, with somewhat clunky shoes.
The change was significant if not dramatic; now he was a handsome husky man, but slightly archaic. "The name. We need to name you."
"Acquiescence."
"You'll need a job, a role, to justify your presence. You'll be my boyfriend, yes, but apart from that. What can you do?"
He brightened. "I am no Glamor. I can carry ikons."
"Done! You can carry mine. And there is the name: we'll call you Ikon."
"Ikon," he repeated. "I like it."
"Now what else can we do together? Even the ikon carriers have other roles, because regular folk don't know about ikons and we prefer that they not find out. We need a public pretext."