On and on along the shore of the ocean they pleasantly careened. At
length they turned into a rich garden bower, and stopped in front of
a great mansion overlooking the waves. He alighted; the Car departed.
Profusely bloomed scarlet and golden and azure flowers, everywhere;
succulent and bright was the lavish green. The doors opened, and a Woman
received him. She was past child-bearing, motherly, and smiling.
He smiled back, and said, "You got one, huh?"
"Of course," she answered.
He sat down to wait.
And while he waited, he almost thought. Meg was good, all right, but
why wasn't she enough, sometimes? He tapped his thumb-nail against his
teeth in a few moments of near perplexity, and then desisted. Soon a
bevy of charming Girls entered the room and paraded for him, laughing
and smiling. He settled upon a petite brunette with cherry lips. She
stripped him of his clothes, and they went walking in a private garden.
In an inner bower they sat down to a rustic table, and were served by
robot with a heady aphrodisiac wine. On the grasses and the petals
of flowers, overlooking the sea, they entwined their limbs and their
bodies, and he nearly enjoyed her. He thought that once he had enjoyed
this activity indeed, and wondered whether it were so.
He sat looking over the waters, trying to muse. The androids were
physically perfect, flesh meeting flesh, clinging to it, thrilling with
it. They were warm, they whispered, they strained and cried. They were
freely available, for every man and woman. None need be unsatisfied.
But he did not know all of this, history and psychology were lost to
him and he could never keep a connected train of thought; his being
unsatisfied could not penetrate to his consciousness. He did not quite
know that flesh cried out for something more than flesh, and had
always done so. He did know, more or less, that there was the matter
of population, and that real men and real women had, at mysterious
intervals, to copulate. That was the way it was. He had once spent some
time in a House himself, meeting the requirements of an endless variety
of Girls. He supposed that some of them had borne the issue of his seed,
though he did not suppose it in these terms. But it was better not to
know these things for certain, and not to have anything to do with
the rearing of children, after the early mother-feeling was over. The
Schools could take care of that better than people could.
She snuggled against him.
"What say, Man?" she said: "What's eatin yuh?"
He did not know how to answer. He tried to talk, tried to break through,
to clarify.
"What's it, huh?" he nearly pleaded. "All this, I mean. Like what's it
for?"
She stretched out on the grass and looked at him a moment.
"Search me," she ventured. "I guess maybe what you need's a Bed."
He guessed she was right.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account