Читать книгу Pleasure Island - Lorie O'Clare - Страница 9

“N o one ever chooses these models,” Rose announced, walking in to the large warehouse with Charles, Phillip, Adrian, and Maggie. It was amazing how such an incredibly beautiful woman could bitch so much yet not develop those nag lines that so many women like her got. “Malachi, what are you going to do about this?”

I didn’t see any reason to glance away from the monitor screens on the wall. “Do about what, Rose?”

“Do about what, Rose,” she mimicked, then walked up and slapped my shoulder. “What are you going to do about these models that no one ever wants? They’re a waste of flesh.”

I did finally look past her at Charles, Phillip, Adrian, and Maggie. “How are you guys doing today?” I could kick Rose’s ass for calling them wastes of flesh in front of their faces. She didn’t get it. I wanted to say they were human, too. And damn it, part of me really believed they were. I was human, and I made them.

“Doing good, boss.” Adrian was the most laid back of the group. His crooked grin was a classic bonus that Rose wouldn’t ever appreciate. “That is, for a waste of flesh.”

When Rose gasped, Adrian winked at me, and I couldn’t help laughing. “None of you are a waste of flesh, no matter what Queen Grouch says.”

“Malachi!” Rose looked horrified. “Don’t speak about me like that in front of them. They must always respect me completely.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t insult them to their faces,” I said coldly. “Why don’t you all go help supervise the Adams?”

“I’m sorry we let you down,” Maggie whispered when she walked by.

I wanted to kick Rose’s ass more than usual. I kept my cool for the companions’ sake, and didn’t let any of them see how pissed Rose made me as the four of them headed over to the other end of the warehouse.

“I swear to God they’ve got more of a heart than you do,” I hissed, glaring at her.

Rose brushed her nicely painted fingernails over her thick black hair. “Don’t be silly, Malachi.” She finally gathered enough intelligence in that pompous brain of hers to lower her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re machines, sweetheart. Sometimes I swear that you forget that.”

“They’re also the reason your income is over six figures annually,” I threw out at her. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see no level of compassion register in her face.

Instead, she smiled softly. “Malachi, dear, don’t get jealous of them.”

“What?” I would never be able to follow Rose’s line of thinking.

Her thin, delicate looking fingers were as cold as the rest of her when she gripped my shoulder and squeezed. “Give yourself credit. I give myself credit. In spite of how successful the companions are, I know that if I hadn’t had the ingenuity to discover your talents and offer you a job, and if you hadn’t been willing to make your home here and continue with your work, we wouldn’t be as filthy rich as we are now.”

She leaned over to kiss my cheek and if she noticed me stiffen, she ignored it. Rose didn’t care about me. Her actions were simply to appease. If anything rang true and consistent about my business partner, it was that she was a cold, heartless bitch, concerned only with the almighty dollar and how many of them she could rub together.

It became clear a long time ago that telling her I didn’t care about the money only made her angry. “Was there something else you needed?” I returned my attention once again to the monitors, which allowed me to watch all of the companions, and make sure nothing ever went wrong.

“There’s always something I want,” she purred, and then scratched my shoulders with her fingernails.

When Rose offered herself to me, she wanted something badly. After ten years on this island, she still hadn’t figured out that there weren’t any sparks between us. I didn’t have a problem admitting that Rose Bontiki was an incredibly gorgeous woman, and on more than one occasion, guests arriving on the island requested her for their companion over one of my creations. Fortunately for our guests, Rose refused to be a companion.

“What would that be?” I asked, and adjusted one of the monitors so that I could see one of the guests in her room.

“Is this how you get your rocks off?” she hissed. “Watching our guests get laid in their rooms? You know if anyone ever caught you doing that…”

“Which they won’t because guests aren’t allowed in this part of the island.” I glanced down at the printout of the guests who’d just arrived this morning. This guest was Natalie Green, from Chicago, a lawyer from one of the larger firms in the Midwest. “And no, this isn’t how I get my rocks off. This is how I make sure that my companions perform properly.” I looked away from the pretty lawyer before her actions did start to affect me. “What do you want, Rose?”

She immediately looked offended. Not that her pouting expression fazed me a bit. I glanced over my shoulder at her but then focused on the rest of the printouts. Then, adjusting the monitors, I focused on each companion who was matched up with our new guests. Occasionally a companion wasn’t compatible with a guest, and I liked finding that out before the companion sensed trouble.

Rose grabbed my shoulder, pinching her long fingernails into my bare flesh while flashing me one of her famous, empty smiles. “I want companions that guests will fight over,” she said coolly.

“Then maybe you should leave me alone so that I can work.” If any guest knew that two people who hated each other’s guts ran paradise, they’d laugh us right out of the Pacific. “Thanks for bringing the gang back to me,” I added, putting a cheerful edge in my voice intentionally, just to get under her skin.

“You better work on your gang,” she said under her breath, and gave me one of her million-dollar smiles—literally, since I knew first hand. I gave it to her with her last plastic surgery procedure. Rose turned, tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder and sashayed her way out of the warehouse.

She glanced over her shoulder when the sun hit her hair and showed off the faint red highlights. Her smile became sincere when she caught me watching her. Let her think what she wanted, it made it easier to work with her. Raising a limp hand in a gesture of good-bye, I returned my attention to the monitors.

Five guests arrived this morning. Four other guests were already here and would be for another few days. I switched channels from the hot lawyer before I forgot why I was sitting here, and found Mr. Hardister, who for some reason had turned in his last two female companions and was now working on his third. The island had a policy that guaranteed customer satisfaction, but Hardister was taking advantage of the policy. I had no doubts. Especially as he sat watching the morning news, remote in hand, with Maria on her knees in front of him giving him a blow job.

I almost pitied Maria. She was one of our more popular companions. I’d done a damned good job mixing her personality chips when I’d created her. Always a smile on her face, and up for just about anything, Maria charmed anyone she spent time with. If Hardister complained about her, I would have to talk to Rose. It would mean that Hardister was abusing policy and simply wanting to switch out companions every couple of days while he was here on the island—and complaining they didn’t satisfy him got him out of paying for extra companions.

“Malachi?” Maggie brushed her fingers over my bare shoulder.

“What, sweetheart?” I asked, turning my attention from my work and adjusting the stool so I faced her.

“The Adams are acting up again.” She made a quirky expression and smiled.

Maggie was best described as a living, breathing Barbie doll, complete with her tanned skin and straight, waist-length blonde hair. And she was beautiful beyond fault, although maybe I was biased.

“Those damned Adams,” I said playfully, and stood, tickling her and laughing when she did.

My companions might be created to offer sexual pleasure, but to me, they were my children. I couldn’t think of them any other way. Putting my arm around Maggie, I hurried over to where two of the Adams were repeatedly walking into each other.

Of all my creations, the Adams probably shouldn’t hold such a special place with me. I knew no one understood why I didn’t scrap them. Hell, sometimes when they created more work than they accomplished, I didn’t understand why I kept them activated. But then there were times like now.

“Hold on to that Adam,” I instructed Maggie, pointing to the manlike android, whose face wasn’t even partially developed. “I’ll grab this one. On my word, face him toward the door.”

“Roger that,” Maggie said, laughing as she jumped around the two Adams. “Why do they do this?” she asked, her tone proof she was curious and not condemning.

Thank God they acted up after Rose left. “Circuit malfunction,” I huffed out, wrapping my arms around the waist of one of them, which wasn’t an easy trick since he kept stepping forward and backward. “Okay, Maggie, now!”

I turned my Adam and Maggie turned hers. I grunted and huffed loudly. Lifting a grown man was no easy task. Maggie lifted hers, the amused grin on her face never fading. She reminded me again why I didn’t regret making my later models stronger than the average human. The two androids, dressed in loincloths like the other companions on the island, walked out of the warehouse like nothing happened.

“Can you fix them?” she asked.

I started after them, deciding it would be best to see what shorted out now before they damaged anything or themselves. “They won’t ever be like you or the other companions. But I’m going to do a diagnostic on both of them now, I think.”

Maggie didn’t say anything. And although I knew she wasn’t programmed to judge, I gave personal thanks anyway that she didn’t. There were times when I thought I understood parents of physically deformed children. They loved their kids just like a parent of a normal looking child would. And that’s how the Adams were to me.

An hour later, after Charles and Phillip helped me carry the Adams to my laboratory, I sent the companions away, and stood in between the tables where the two Adams lay motionless. It didn’t seem so long ago when I first created life, and now here my first attempt at it looked lifeless on the tables.

“Don’t go getting all emotional, old man,” I told myself, and walked over to the computer where I kept my logs on each model.

The Adams were my first attempt, and didn’t have human faces or the ability to speak. I admitted, as I stared down at one of them and brushed my knuckles over his skinlike cheek, I’d come a long way in mastering a human nose. Nonetheless, when these Adams were “brought to life” they were a mile marker in robotics.

I remember that day like it was yesterday, and my excitement when they sat up on a table so similar to this one and walked over to the counter and poured a glass of water and brought it to me. Without the aid of a remote. My staff at the time applauded my efforts, and the next day I was on the front pages of all the national newspapers in France.

“The beginning of the end,” I grumbled bitterly, returning my attention to my computer.

The last thing I expected to be doing for the next decade was mastering my creations and creating companions to offer sexual pleasure.

I typed in quick notes on their latest malfunction, hopping up several times to confirm which wires cross circuited, and then kicked back in front of the computer.

There were several blogs I kept an eye on, mainly my competitors and what they were up to these days. Sometimes spending so many years on this island made it easy to forget the rest of the world was out there. I’m not vain, not at all, but I don’t want to hear that someone is getting the better of me and coming out with something that I haven’t thought of yet.

A box popped up in front of the Web site I was looking at and I groaned.

“I don’t like her,” the instant-message box read, and the statement was followed by a link. Rose wouldn’t leave me alone even when she was on the other side of the island.

I clicked on the link without responding and watched as it quickly opened in front of me. The link was to an article about a law firm in Chicago that had successfully won a lawsuit for a medical supply company that we used. I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands and read about Green, Green and Albert, Attorneys at Law. It didn’t surprise me that Rose wouldn’t like our new guest, without even bothering to get to know her. Rose didn’t like anyone who she viewed as competition, and any pretty lady arriving on the island, Rose viewed as a threat.

“It doesn’t even mention her name,” I said out loud and brought the blog I’d been scanning back up in front of the chat box. Devlin Products was still boasting their latest personality chip. I clicked a few more links, searching where I could to learn how far they’d come with it. “Not even close, my friends,” I said, admitting relief and satisfaction when I leaned back in my chair, clasping my hands behind my head and grinning at the screen. “My Adams are still better than anything you’ve got.”

Rose’s chat box started flashing. I wouldn’t have acknowledged it but the word “robot” was visible from behind the blog.

“Check this out. Another of our new arrivals, James Martin, did a paper for this scientific journal on robots. I did a search on his name and it came up.”

Rose loved investigating all of her guests, probably as soon as their money cleared the bank.

Ignoring Rose when she sent another message, I focused on finishing my log entry on the Adams. Then standing and stretching, I headed over to the window that looked out over the courtyard between the few buildings that were my world: the warehouse to my left and the dorms where the companions stayed to the right.

I watched two of my companions walk from the dormitory to the warehouse, more than likely headed over to finish the work that the Adams weren’t able to finish.

I hated the thought of shutting down my Adams. They weren’t perfect, but it wasn’t their fault. Watching Adrian and Phillip disappear into the warehouse, I didn’t need to see more to know they’d have the task the Adams were doing done in minutes. Unloading the boxes of supplies that arrived in the cargo area of the plane that brought our guests to the island kept the Adams busy. It was grunt work. But work they could do.

Staring past my buildings to the mountain that blocked my view of Rose’s mansion, I considered going back to the warehouse and dealing with the Adams later. “Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I mumbled to myself, glancing at the clock and noting that it would be lunchtime soon. If Maggie was anything, she was a damned good cook, and word had it she was making enchiladas for lunch. I’d check in on Adrian and Phillip in the warehouse, go over the inventory list to make sure everything I’d ordered showed up, and double-check to make sure all the companions up at the mansion were behaving themselves with our guests.

I certainly wasn’t going back to the warehouse and the monitoring screens to check out our new guest, Miss Green, the lawyer. I wasn’t a voyeur, and I didn’t care how she looked while fucking Tomas and Nicolas at the same time.