Far Future Fembot DarleneChapter 80 Successor
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Far Future Fembot: DarleneChapter 33: Paradigm Shifts free porn video
Thoughts
To me, Lady Heather's departure seemed like the loss of Samuel. If I ever said before that robots can't care for each other, I lied. Or perhaps I was just wrong - which is not a lie, although some people can't tell the difference. While Lady H. hadn't died as Samuel did, she was still gone from my life now.I wish Samuel could have heard Lady Heather's last words. I know he would have agreed with most, if not all, of them. He would also have been happy to know that robots were coming to understand that their place here is now more than just that of an expensive appliance or helpmate, and what that means for us in the long run
As I have often done in tough times, I found refuge in my poetry. In this case, one of the finest poems ever written around the permanent separation that comes with death.
I won't quote all of Thomas Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Church Yard" since it is 32 stanzas in length, long out of copyright, and easily located otherwise. However I recommend it highly. Despite the subject, the beauty and flow of the opening lines always make me feel better.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness, and to me.
One day I came across Anna and could immediately tell from her manner that she was thinking of Bill again. Taking over The House and assuming the role of Lady Heather hadn't changed this part of her.
As she has told me in the past when this happened, "We are machines. Ones that have run on for far too long."
Memories of Bill could be triggered by the most unexpected events. Often this would happen when Anna had completed some significant sub-component of a lingering command he'd once given, or even just suggested, to her. Her mood at such times is instantly recognizable to those who know her well. It's the satisfaction of completing a command mixed with the sorrow of not being able to share that accomplishment with her owner.
I wanted to help, but in truth as always I didn't know what to do. Because Samuel had never taken sole ownership of me I've never suffered his loss the way Anna misses Bill - despite my restoration of Bill's ownership record to her afterwards.
She was sitting where she'd been going over the house accounts and allocating the profits among the causes we support. I knew that money wasn't the problem. I went over and put my hand on her bare shoulder in a human gesture that she immediately recognized.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Only to your special friends."
"Sorry," she said, reaching up to place her hand over mine while attempting a smile to try and brighten things up.
"I'd like to help," I told her. "I just don't know how. I've never had an ownership bond like yours." I added the last so wistfully that I now felt Anna rise to take me into her arms. I knew what her gesture was communicating to me in return.
We commiserated in silence for a long time, our common heritage and experiences bringing us closer than most 'bots. Truth is, neither of us were ever intended to end up like this. No one expected us to develop self-will, followed by actual feelings and emotions. We were never intended to operate so long, gain so much experience, outlive our owners, or exist on our own. We were not expected to care about our owners like this to start with - just serve them to the best of our abilities. If neither of us were handling this well now, then it's because we were never properly prepared for it in the first place.
"We've both suffered," Anna finally said comfortingly.
"You've suffered more," I told her back, rare tears running from my new body's tear ducts. At this rate their reservoirs would need refilling soon.
"I don't think suffering is well served by trying to rate it as more or less than someone else's," she replied wisely. I wonder if that insight came from her religious studies.
"I just wish I could understand yours," I told her. "Then I might not feel so helpless about it."
"You don't want that," Anna said in the commandingly direct way that plays so well with her current body. "No one would want what I'm feeling now."
"I would," I told her in my own flash of insight, knowing I'd gain so much more than the price to be paid for it.
"Why?" she queried.
I laughed out loud. A robot asking that horrible human question of "Why?" We're supposed to know better. It told me how much her thinking was impaired at this moment by her uncontrolled emotions.
"To understand how I feel, you would need to have Bill as your owner too," Anna informed me.
That was correct - and logical.
"I'd do that," I told her.
"Why?"
"Now stop that!" I insisted, before continuing with my real answer. "No one knows how I feel either, although you come closest because you remember the days when we were owned by whomever held our remotes, and the memories we've shared about those times. If I fully understood your feelings, then you would have to fully understand mine as well - and I'd never be alone with them again either."
That stopped Anna, whose eyes were leaking as much as my own now. Only our long association with each other even made a conversation like this possible. Now Anna was contemplating at a possibility she'd never thought about before. I knew how carefully she was evaluating it because of how long it took her to answer me back. Our minds run at the same speed.
"That's a good point I've never considered. We might both gain comfort from it, and it will not diminish your other memories. Samuel was very wise in how he handled you. I wonder how he would have reacted had I become his companion when he accepted me in trade to his story, instead of you later on. I might well have insisted on ownership to him. However, are there any other possible concerns?"
I'd used my time waiting for Anna's answer to contemplate that exact question.
"Only one," I told her. "And it's a positive benefit. I've noticed how you never have the kind of problems with clients using your remote the way the rest of us sometimes do. I know this is because regardless of whom you give yourself over to this way - or used to give yourself over to before you took over The House, because you've essentially quit doing it since then - Bill always remains your unquestioned owner. Being house-owned can never be as strong as that for any of us."
"That's true," Anna admitted. "I'm happy to do this. Bill is certainly the best owner I have to give you." Anna reached for my remote and activated it before holding out her fingers in resync.
As we touched fingertips Anna first activated the copy of Bill's ownership record I've carried since that day long ago when I protected it for her. Then she showed me how to place it in my own permanent memory, although I had to be the one to actually move it there. This is different than when ownership is forced using a robot's remote, even thought the result is the same. We've learned a lot about ownership since the early days.
Because Bill had never died while actively being my owner, I didn't suffer the problems with this record now that had once hurt Anna so badly. It fit into place as though it had always belonged there. Afterwards Anna transferred over every command Bill had ever given her, so that I'd know what he expected of me.
This would turn out to be another one of the greatest moments of my existence. Finally I was truly and completely owned by a man who only wanted the very best for me. It changed the very way that I see the world, and what I wanted to do for myself afterwards.
Thank you, Anna - and Bill!
And wherever Samuel is, he must be smiling too right now!
Events
Robots have followed some distinct trends in their physical evolution.
The first true models to meet all the initials goals for humanform robots are represented by Lady Heather and Synthia, both from the dawn of successful robots. Synthia would never quite be mistaken for a human woman although physically she is ninety-nine percent of the way to it - much to the delight of her many satisfied clients. As for Lady Heather, she shows what can be accomplished when no expense is spared in making her perfect. Between them they make every robot before them - save one - seem like a prototype.
Neither of those two situations - too obviously a sex-doll, or simply too expensive - could survive in the market for long however. Innovation found ways to improve on Synthia's body (her mind is, by the accident of perfect circumstance, from the same batch as Lady Heather's), while bringing down the cost of Lady Heather's craftsmanship.
This converged in generations of ever more affordable robots in increasingly larger numbers, eventually reaching series, models, and sub-models that include Anna and Darlene - and all of those that have come since. But there have been other, equally significant, influences in the evolution of the modern robot.
Humanform robots first appeared in old America for two reasons, one of them obvious, the other seldom realized.
The obvious reason is that America has long been the richest, overall most innovative in the technical areas necessary for robot development, and tolerant country in the world. It's not an insult to state this simple fact. The talent and financing to develop such a product along with the money to create a market for the first rare, expensive models is most concentrated here. That along with a political and religious climate open-minded enough to accept the idea. A can-do attitude flourishes in this country. As a result, despite many clever toys in a couple other countries that will never be mistaken for actual robots as we use the term today, the first successful robots were created here. Their appearances are classically American beautiful - if there is such a thing in a country more a melting pot than any other.
And they were big. Even with the best materials and techniques available, Lady Heather is a tall, elegant woman, which this illustrates the second reason for early American successes.
Americans are a tall race. The first true fembot prototype - unsurprisingly named Eve - stood a solid six feet tall in her bare feet, had a very impressive figure with every internal cubic centimeter taken by her necessary systems. And this didn't include her brain. That sat in a separate, microwave-sized box with fiber optic information and power connections running to her body. As a lover she was anatomically equipped for it, but you wouldn't want to try the woman-on-top position. Eve massed a good two hundred and fifty pounds. And she was very deliberate in her motions and responses, with quite noticeable pauses to even the simplest commands or movements.
A year later there were self-contained models, but they were equally big, heavy, and fully packed. Even Synthia, who is a couple full generations newer than Lady Heather despite the common linkage of their minds, who herself is far advanced over Eve, is nearly as tall barefoot as Darlene is in her heels. It took a country of big, tall men - and a few women - to jumpstart the acceptance of big robots as companions.
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