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Message-ID: <37449asstr$1027253406@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Lindsey's Story {DB_Story} (M/fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr)
Date: Sun, 21 Jul 2002 08:10:06 -0400
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LINDSEY'S STORY
By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ )
Copyrightc 2002 by DB.
ASSM/ASFR (M/fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr)

(This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended 
for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, 
and whatever passes for adult status in other countries.  If you 
are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view 
such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not 
continue.  This is not for you.

(The only rights granted are to view this story.  You are not 
allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story 
without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites.

(To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to 
this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted 
material, please contact me first at the above email.)

- - -

Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about 
the evolution of robots into our near future society and the 
myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations.  Read 
it now, and be prepared.  For more, visit my web-site at the 
above address.

A special thanks to Gorgo his excellent and much appreciated 
proofreading.  All remaining mistakes are mine.

- - -

Traveling to the future is possible.  And not by straight the 
cryogenics that was the first attempt to cheat time.  There are 
better methods - but that's not the real problem in doing it.

Of more practical concerns are questions of when to you want to 
be awakened, and why would some future society wish to do that 
for you.  Other questions worth considering as well included: 
Will the future really be better?  A lot of people already find 
the past more appealing then the present.  Most important of all 
perhaps:  How will I make a living in a world where my knowledge 
and education are a century or more out of date?

A lot of people questioned my decision.  I'm barely thirty.  They 
kept getting stuck on the belief that I'm killing myself, 
although what I've planned is intended to be nothing of the sort. 
 Some people who couldn't leave it alone had to be cut out of my 
circle of friends just to give me some peace.  

My ace-in-the-hole is the miracle of compound interest invested 
in mix of maximum safety market-rate accounts.  And a recent 
change in the law allowing for me to retain ownership of some 
real property while suspended.  I'll do my best to make it 
worthwhile for my future family to want to wake me up again.

I did it because I looked where trends were going in science, 
technology, and society.  My best talent is to be able to see and 
combine events into a proper future picture.  There are some 
wonderful things I could see coming that I'd like to experience 
while still a young man.

My instructions to my caretakers were that I was not to be 
awakened until either a set number of events and innovations have 
occurred, or an upper limit of years has passed.  The limit of 
years is because I didn't want to take a chance of getting stuck 
there forever.

On my last day I went down and walked barefoot along the ocean.  
It's my favorite memory to hold on to.

The process and my planning worked.  Otherwise my story would 
have ended right there.  My only real surprise was how short an 
interval of time passed.  I'd allowed for up to ten generations. 
 A bit more than four passed.

- - -

For a couple days I was the sensation of the moment and center-
of-attention for a family I had never met.  My brother's family 
had survived and prospered.  I was "adopted" into one of their 
houses and it seemed that everyone wanted to talk to me about 
what my time was like.

Although their interest never died, it did die down considerably 
after three or four days.  After that I was pretty much left on 
my own.  As I expected it was hard to read the newspapers or 
watch the future equivalent of television.  Too many new words 
and references I needed to learn first.  I pictured myself how I 
would feel if I had jumped from a century earlier into my 
original time.  This was only two or three times worse.  But I 
had expected as much, and would give myself the necessary time to 
get educated.

The family put my fifteen-year-old great-great-grandniece Amy in 
charge of helping me find my way around in the world of my 
future.  She thought it was a great idea for a couple of days, 
then felt it was getting in the way of her own social life.  Her 
complaints wasn't enough to get her out from under the obligation 
however.

"Do I have to still do it?" was her plaintive cry when she didn't 
realize I was listening.

I was more then willing to try and make it as easy on her as I 
could, but she came up with her own solution first.

The next time we went into town she hunted around until she found 
what she was looking for.  I wasn't sure what Amy wanted and felt 
it best not to ask her.  After some amount of seemingly random 
wandering I saw her pause and eyes loose focus as she made a call 
on her implant phone.  Probably calling some of her friends for 
help in whatever it was she was having trouble finding.  Whomever 
she called seemed able to help her.  When her eyes refocused from 
the call she headed straight towards her destination with me in 
tow.

We ended up in an upscale shopping district that was everything I 
had dreamt of the future being.  But I didn't get much chance to 
look in the fascinating stores selling things I couldn't begin to 
identify.  Amy threaded her way through the shoppers until she 
walked up to a single display window sandwiched between two 
stores.

The narrow window had just space for a single, attractive and 
lifelike mannequin about Amy's age.  We'd walked past several 
similar windows with other similar mannequins before stopping at 
this one.  Now I got to take a closer look.

The figure was lit well by a couple floods at both the top and 
bottom of the window which removed any shadows.  There was no 
manufacturer identification obvious so I had no idea what was 
being sold and by whom.  Looking closer I saw I saw a card 
standing up at her feet that said "Lindsey - age 16".  As I 
looked closer, the mannequin wasn't just very attractive, she was 
gorgeous.  A young woman just on the edge of adulthood.

If Lindsey was sixteen, she must have just turned it this 
morning.  She stood about five-feet-three, wearing modest heels 
that added a couple more inches to her height.  Long golden waves 
of honey blonde hair framed a face that could only be called 
perfect.  Her lightly shadowed eyes were mismatched hazel and 
brown.  They gave her the single "imperfection" that makes real 
beauty happen.  Her face had natural high cheekbones with a 
natural blush that could not be improved on.  Her flawlessly 
outlined, tinted lips were pursed slightly, as though waiting to 
either speak her first words, or receive her first kiss.

She wore a two-piece outfit.  A simple beige, sleeveless top with 
a darker pleated knee-length skirt.  She didn't need the clothes 
to look beautiful however.  She made the clothes look good 
instead.

Her healthy tan said she enjoyed the outdoors in some sunny 
place, and doesn't wear much clothing when doing so.  The loose 
clothing hid any details of her body, although you could see 
enough of her curves to know that there is a complete woman 
inside.  Her smooth, shapely legs promised much more to come as 
they ducked up into the hem of her skirt.

The last thing I noticed was her stance.  She had her weight 
shifted slightly forward with one knee slightly out enough to 
compensate for the heels she wore.  Add this to the straight-
forward gaze of her clear unblinking eyes and she looked ready to 
take her first breath and step into your arms in the next second. 
 It seems that mannequins have improved a great deal in this age. 
 The only other thing I noticed was a small box hanging around 
her neck.

Amy wasn't giving me much time to admire the young woman however 
as she dug quickly in her purse.  As with any woman's purse, it 
took her a while to find what she wanted.

When she finally found what she wanted she stepped up to a dark 
panel next to the window and stuck in her payment card into a 
slot.  In a moment an amount flashed, and she touched her thumb 
to the thumbprint accept sensor.

Next a "coin slot" flashed next to it.  Amy muttered something in 
frustration and dug through her purse again.  It took her a while 
to find what must have been in the very bottom of it.  But I 
heard triumph in her voice as she finally pulled out a shiny 
quarter-sized disk with a tiny hole in the middle and inserted 
it.

Once the "coin" was inserted the window went black.  Not just 
that the lights went off, but the glass itself seemed to turn 
opaque.  Amy must have expected this and just stood waiting.  I 
did the same without knowing what to expect.  It was only a 
couple minutes before a dark alcove on the other side of the 
window suddenly rotated open - and out stepped Lindsey.

I admit that I was too astonished for words at that moment.  
Fortunately I didn't need any.

As "Lindsey" stepped out she looked around and immediately 
spotted Amy.

"Amy," she squealed, running over to give her a hug.  "How 
wonderful to see you again."

Amy accepted this attention for a few seconds before breaking the 
embrace and stepping back.  Lindsey immediately released her and 
stood where she was.

"Lindsey," Amy said in a far more curt voice then I though was 
necessary as she reached out and fingered the small box around 
Lindsey's neck, "This is Steve," nodding at me.  "He's your new 
owner."

Lindsey immediately turned to me.  Quickly judging my age and 
situation as different from Amy whom she already seemed to know, 
Lindsey formally stuck out her hand.  Somehow managing to look 
both bashful and bold at the same time she said in a mock 
serious, "Hello, Steve.  I'm very pleased to meet you."

I took the offered hand, which felt warm, soft, and strong at the 
same time and replied, "Likewise, I'm sure."

Neither of us seemed to know what to say next.  Amy broke that 
ice with an abrupt, "Let's go."  I guess the magic of my arrival 
has completely worn off with her.

Embarrassingly, Lindsey looped her arm through mine as we 
threaded our way back through the light morning crowd.  
Fortunately no one else seemed to be taking notice.

I looked behind once as we were leaving.  The window was brightly 
lit again, with a cute redhead standing where Lindsey had been.

- - -

Lindsey is a gynoid.  Or as they say in this age, "fembot".  A 
robot built to emulate a woman.  Or in this case, a sixteen-year-
old teenager who might, or might not, quite be a woman yet.  In 
the criteria I had specified for when I wanted to be awakened, 
gynoids were an optional item.  I wasn't sure if they would be 
possible any time soon.  And even if they were, would they 
actually be manufactured and sold in any affordable quantity.  
Not only were they common.  In Lindsey's case they were cheap!

I already knew about fembots - and the corresponding m-'bots - 
from my first day here.  However I had yet to meet any myself.  
Correction.  I had yet to meet any that I recognized as such.  
Sneaking glances at Lindsey as it - she - walked beside me I 
realized I could be surrounded by fembots and never know it.  I 
never expected then to be that convincing.

 I tried to ask Amy about how much she had spent, and what I owed 
her for this favor.  But she just put me off with, "It's not 
enough to worry about."

While I found it hard to believe, I had to accept the evidence 
that Amy had paid for this herself and wasn't worried about what 
it had cost her.  She treated the purchase the way a young woman 
of my era - make that my former era - would have felt about 
buying a music CD.

I knew Amy wanted to get back to her own pursuits.  I'd been 
dumped on her because everyone else was too busy with their own 
lives to take care of me 24/7.  So I really wasn't upset at all 
on how this was turning out.

When we got back to the house I carefully thanked Amy for all her 
help and took Lindsey to my room.  I had the guestroom at the far 
end of the house.  There I sat down to talk with Lindsey and 
learn about her.  My only interruption was the family dinner 
which is mandatory for everyone in the family - even Amy - to 
attend.  Nobody asked me anything special during the meal.  
Afterwards I talked with Lindsey far into the night.

- - -

It is an amazing experience talking to Lindsey.  She is the first 
fembot I've spoken to, and it's nothing like I had expected.

In large part I could talk to her just like the teenager she was 
designed to represent.  In fact I soon realized that talking to 
Lindsey is a lot like talking to Amy.  Except with Lindsey I 
always have her unwavering attention.

Realizing that I was new to fembots Lindsey started out with a 
pre-programmed introduction to them.  She proudly showed me her 
control box, "Just like the big fembots have."  It has her ON/OFF 
switch and COMMAND button.  She explain how I should wear it 
around my neck when we are out together and leave it with her or 
shut her off otherwise.  It seems she is not allowed to be more 
then about a hundred meters away from it without automatically 
shutting down and broadcasting a distress signal.  This is 
because her model is intended to interact with kids her age range 
- "And up," she carefully pointed out - and this is part of 
responsible ownership of a 'bot.

Her COMMAND button is used when I need her to do exactly as told. 
 Because Lindsey was expected to be with kids most of the time 
she is set so that I don't need to use it for everything, "But 
it's a good habit to acquire," she instructed me.

Then she made me practice several simple commands with her before 
she would continue.

Even with the COMMAND button however Lindsey has several kid-safe 
limits built-in that separate her from "the big fembots", as she 
likes to refer to them.  I had my ideas on what those limits must 
be, and turned out to be surprisingly wrong in several 
significant regards.  Later she would tell me that several of 
them were automatically overridden because of my age.  Much later 
she would also tell me how much nicer her life was because she 
didn't have to live with all the limitations imposed on her.

Her spiel picked up with, "This way I can help my owner become 
accustomed to responsible and correct robot ownership from a 
young age, as well as acting as a companion and friend during the 
difficult years of early maturity."

I knew a company line when I was hearing it.  Once we got past 
the basic owner orientation I learned a whole host of interesting 
things.

Compared to the "big fembots", Lindsey is a cheap, disposable 
unit.  The average "lifetime" for units like her is six months.  
I must confess that when she first told me this, six months 
seemed like a very long time.  Her brain is not nearly as 
expensive, nor has the capacity, of the adult units.  And when 
returned at the end of her useful life back to one of the vending 
locations, she will be disassembled and her parts repaired, 
refurbished, or replaced as required.

"Do you mean they just take you apart and put the pieces back in 
inventory?" I asked, not sure of my feelings here.

"Yes," she said cheerfully, as if this is not a problem to her.

"And then no more Lindseys?"

"If my model is still popular at that time I may be reassembled 
back into this form.  If not, my parts will be used as necessary 
in building the new current fashion."

"Do you remember this happening to you?" I had to ask.

"Of course not.  My mental processor is always wiped and reloaded 
with my initial program each time I'm reassembled.  This way each 
customer always gets the same girl they expect."

"But you knew Amy when you saw her," I said, very confused now.

"That's because of the memory disc."

"The what?"

"The silver disc you inserted in when you bought me."

I remembered Amy digging it out.

"It has all my memories from when Amy owned me before.  This way 
the relationship can be continued."

"Amy owned you before?"

"Not me exactly.  But another Lindsey unit just like me."

I was intrigued by this.  Now I knew why Amy had hunted so long 
for this particular model.  Then Lindsey dashed that notion.

"So she had to find another model just like you to use this 
memory disc on.  Right?"

"No," Lindsey replied simply.  "The memory disc works with any 
compatible model.  It's just less - jarring - to the owner when 
the same model has the same memories."

Interesting, I thought.

"And how long did she own you?" I asked, deciding that if the 
memory was continuous then it qualified as the same person.

"Four months and five days."

"But aren't you good for at least six months?"

"She returned me when she went off to summer camp and didn't want 
to take me with her."

Suddenly I remembered something important and hit my palm against 
my forehead in an unnecessary display of embarrassment at my 
memory shortcoming.

"We forgot to get the disc back after we bought you," I said in 
alarm.

"The disc is gone," Lindsey calmly replied.  "It is destroyed in 
the process of readout."

"Whew.  I was afraid we'd really messed up there."

Then after thinking a moment I added, "Does the readout ever 
fail?"

"Occasionally," she said with a rare hint of what I would come to 
recognize as sadness in her voice.

I could see why Amy had used her disc.  Lindsey knew the rest of 
the family and a lot of useful personal information already, like 
how to get back home again if she got lost.  And she had several 
months of real-world experience in exactly this environment.  
That was much more valuable then the general knowledge base she 
would have started out with otherwise.

We talked on into the night.  I was both amazed at how 
responsive, and how real, Lindsey seemed.  As time went on 
however I also began to see where her limits are.

Lindsey has a lot of basic knowledge and an efficient way to 
retrieve it.  She includes city maps, built-in phone directory, 
even an encyclopedia.  She seems somehow able to tap into current 
events as well.  But once she gets outside her knowledge base she 
falls back onto a basic heuristic method of trying to draw out 
what you think, instead of being able further contribute to the 
conversation herself.

She does learn however.  At one point we went back over an area 
she hadn't understood earlier until I explained it to her.  The 
second time around she not only remembered every thing I had 
said, but was able to cross-reference it against her existing 
knowledge and come up with a new insight.

I didn't really find her limits that first night.  Only that she 
had them.  But I hadn't expected more.  In fact, I hadn't 
expected nearly as much as I had gotten.  So I was well pleased 
when I finally felt I'd better get some sleep if I was going to 
be of any use at all the next day.  People were discovering that 
I had been awakened from the long sleep.  Already a historian had 
asked for an interview appointment.

Normally I sleep in the nude.  It took a while to get comfortable 
with it initially, but once I started I never looked back.  This 
somehow didn't feel proper with Lindsey in the room however.  
Even changing into the pajamas I had for occasional necessary 
occasions in front of Lindsey just felt odd to me.  I suppose I 
could have commanded her to turn around and close her eyes until 
I had changed.  Instead I changed in the bathroom.  Then I came 
out and got into bed.

"Good night, Lindsey," I said politely to her, not knowing what 
other protocol to perform.

"Good night, Steve," she replied brightly.

"Light off," I commanded the room and got immediate darkness.

Just as I was falling asleep I felt Lindsey climb into bed with 
me.  I was startled for a moment before realizing that was 
probably how she slept with Amy.  I didn't have the heart to 
order her back out since I was already thinking of her as an 
orphan who was only temporarily adopted into our home.   I turned 
onto my side facing away from her.

The last words I heard from her was a whispered, "Thank you for 
buying me," before I fell asleep for the best night's rest I'd 
had yet in my new time.

- - -

The next day I found Amy and asked her about a quick trip into 
town to help me find the interview location.

She replied, "That's what you have Lindsey for."

When I asked Lindsey if she knew how to reach the address I 
needed she cheerfully replied, "I can guide you there," and we 
were off.

Fortunately nobody seems to find it strange that I have this very 
attractive - very young - fembot on my arm.  These things 
apparently are taken for granted.

Afterward the interview was complete I mentioned to Lindsey there 
was a store I remembered seeing that intrigued me.  Amy had been 
in such a hurry we hadn't stopped.  Lindsey knew exactly where I 
meant from my description and easily computed an optimal route to 
it via public transportation.  That led to a day of adventure.

Exploring with Lindsey turned out to be a lot more fun then with 
Amy.  With Amy there was always the implied burden of her having 
to do it.  In addition, while Amy had either been to most 
interesting sights at least a dozen times - to hear her say it, 
"A hundred times at least" - or thought something like an art 
museum was too boring to even consider.  Everything was new to me 
and I wanted to see it all.  With Lindsey this worked out 
perfectly.

Lindsey and I didn't get home that night until after dark.  
Fortunately no one else was concerned.  They knew I was with her, 
and that meant I was in adequate hands.

I was so tired from everything we'd done that I didn't talk much 
to Lindsey that night.  That seemed okay with her too.  I only 
pulled on my pajama bottoms before climbing into bed.  Lindsey 
again climbed in after we said our goodnights, and again thanked 
me for buying her.  She waited so long before saying it however 
that I don't know if she even knew I was still awake.

This would become a nighttime ritual for her, and soon I wouldn't 
fall asleep until I heard it.  In a way it was her own little 
prayer at night.

Nothing else happened between us in bed.  I didn't see how it 
could.  I just couldn't see Lindsey in a sexual role - for a lot 
of reasons.

- - -

Amy is a precocious not-so-little girl, as I would soon find out.

Lindsey and I spent most of the third day together at the city's 
main art museum.  Lindsey has a built-in art catalog that she can 
recite from at will.  However she is just parroting what others 
have written.  I tried to explain what art really is all about to 
her, but she said I was giving her a headache.  While I'm not 
certain, I don't think fembots can have headaches.  It is just 
her charming way of saying that she couldn't understand a topic 
of that complexity.

It doesn't bother me that Lindsey can't understand art.  Heck, 
most people can't really explain it.  We walked around hand-in-
hand (I started taking her hand to avoid having her link arms 
with me everywhere we went) and had a pleasant day together.

Lindsey's city smarts includes a dining guide.  After the museum 
closed she guided me to a charming sidewalk restaurant on a tiny 
side street.  She said it was to make up for her not 
understanding the art earlier.  She was so sweet about it that I 
almost kissed her, but settled for a quick hug instead.  I 
pictures how she and Amy had probably often hugged each other, 
and decided it would be okay for me to do it too.

That night when we got back to my room Lindsey dropped a real 
bombshell.  As I was getting ready for bed she told me that Amy 
had added basic sexual programming to her as an option when Amy 
had first owned her.  And because of the memory disc she still 
had it.  That changed the whole tenor of her sleeping with me.

I had no intention of asking for details on why Amy had wanted, 
or how she had used, sexual programming in Lindsey.  Maybe it was 
just so they could talk about boys together.  But that one 
comment forced me to view Lindsey in a whole new way.  I realized 
I'd thought of her as a naive innocent.  In that one sentence she 
had just demolished both those notions.

I don't know what sort of relationship is even possible with 
Lindsey.  There is the stigma of her young age.  And add to that 
the question of what sort of person actually has a real 
relationship with a fembot anyway.  I'd bet if I'd commanded 
Lindsey to show me her sexual expertise she would have done so 
right there without a moment's hesitation - because she had to.

I finally decided to let it all pass without further comment and 
not bring the subject up again myself.  I realized that I was 
already finding Lindsey far too attractive as it was, and the 
conflicts about it were in myself.  I wouldn't be dumb enough 
about it to move her out of my life.  I'd just keep it under 
control.  Like most things, it only affects me when I think about 
it.  I could handle not thinking about it for now.

I finally fell into a fitful sleep with strange dreams of Any and 
Lindsey playing with each other's bodies under the covers at 
night in attempts to encourage themselves to grow into mature 
women faster.  In the last dream Lindsey was suddenly an adult, 
but for some reason it was also her day to be returned for 
recycling.  I woke up feeling very sad from that one.

- - -

I didn't mention any of this to the family the next morning.  I 
was just happy to find Lindsey lying unchanged next to me.

The family members were all happy that I was having a good time. 
 Although I know there is genuine family closeness between us 
despite the generation gap, they also wanted to keep my happy 
since I had a sizable bankroll by now that I could still take 
with me and leave.  I'm not accusing anyone of impure 
motivations.  All this is just prudent thinking on their part.  I 
admire that.

Lindsey had a surprise for me today when I was ready to leave.  
She was dressed in a new outfit for the first time.

"It's Amy's," she replied to my unasked question.  "She and I 
always shared clothes before, and I asked her if I could do it 
again while mine is being cleaned.  She has such pretty things."

I had to agree that Amy has some pretty things.  Lindsey was now 
wearing a much shorter skirt now with higher heels.  A white, 
tight top with bare-midriff sharply outlined her small, high 
breasts.  I felt myself responding to it - and Lindsey - the way 
a male is supposed to.  I ended up excusing myself for a couple 
minutes until I regained control of myself.  I reminded myself 
that Lindsey is just a big doll, and may have even convinced 
myself of that notion.

While we were out on the town today Lindsey's usual bouncy 
enthusiasm momentarily disappeared a couple of times.  When that 
happened she pulled herself up tight against me and seemed to 
actually shiver.  The second time I happened I asked her why.

"That girl up ahead," she said succinctly  "The one crossing 
ahead of us."

"I see her," I replied.  "What about her?"

"Around her neck," was all Lindsey would add.

I looked carefully.  The girl was wearing a long necklace with a 
half dozen or more shiny silver discs strung on it.  It took me a 
moment to recognize them.

"Memory discs?" I asked. 

"Yes," Lindsey replied still clinging close to me.

"What does it mean?" I said, knowing that I was missing something 
obvious.

It took a bit of time for Lindsey to relax before she could 
explain further.

"Many teenagers buy us - 'bots like me - as companions.  
Sometimes several of us over their teenage years.  Some of them 
like to wear the memory discs that they receive when we are 
recycled as badges or status symbols of how many 'bots they have 
had."

Lindsey stopped, but I picked up the thought from there.

"And all those memory discs represent robot memories that will 
never live again."

"Yes," Lindsey said quietly without further elaboration.

I could guess the rest.  That uncaring display by an unthinking 
young person was as close to visible death as Lindsey could 
experience.  The way this disturbed her forced me to see her in a 
new light.

I held Lindsey tight to me as we walked on down the street to let 
he know that she was still wanted.

- - -

Lindsey and I continued to explore each day.  Just what was 
reachable by day trips alone would take us months to exhaust.  
But by the end of the first week I had pretty much found 
Lindsey's limits.

This was not unexpected.  Lindsey is intended for teenage 
companionship and exploration.  I can guess just what kinds of 
exploration some times.  My tastes are rather more sophisticated.

I wasn't about to throw her away.  Lindsey is exceptionally 
useful within her limits.  But I was realizing that I would want 
more pretty soon from somewhere.

 Then I remembered Lindsey telling me about how her sex 
programming had been added as an option.  That night I asked her 
about other programming options.

They are available, she told me brightly.   I think she liked the 
thought of becoming smarter and more useful to me.  Then she 
added sadly that she couldn't take too much more programming.  
After counting the options Amy had added, plus all of her 
previous experiences from the memory disc plus her new 
experiences with me, she was approaching the limits of her memory 
capacity.

"Can your capacity be expanded?" I asked her.  It seemed like an 
obvious question to me.

Lindsey's face lit up like someone who has just been promised 
their very own Christmas.  I would not have believed it possible 
for anyone to show such joy and happiness at a few simple words.

It turns out that such expansions were available, but almost 
nobody ever buys them.  Lindsey's computer mind - so far beyond 
anything from my time - is only a simple version of the ones used 
in top-end fembots.  It has less ability and less capacity 
intentionally, but fundamentally is the same.  It is also the 
most complex and expensive part of her.  The reason most people 
don't bother with upgrades is that it costs almost as much again 
as Lindsey herself.

Did I mention that money isn't a concern for me?

- - -

It took three days to arrive.  The family looked a little 
strangely at me when they found out I had ordered it.

"I'm comfortable working with Lindsey," I told them when they 
asked if I needed a more capable model.  "I just need her to be 
able to do a bit more for me."

That made enough sense for them to drop the topic.  But Amy gave 
me a long look afterwards.  Perhaps she was remembering that 
sexual programming lurking in there somewhere.

I wasn't going to install it myself.  I quit installing expansion 
cards in my PC a century ago and didn't plan to get started again 
now.  Installing something technical is never as simple as it 
should be.  Lindsey was very helpful in locating a well-regarded 
service location not too far away.

- - -

Jake would have been recognizable as a repairman by anyone from 
my time.  Some things just never seem to change.  The dirty 
overalls.  The odd pieces of equipment scattered around his shop. 
 And his attitude.

"Don't see many of these models," he commented in a not 
unfriendly way towards Lindsey.  The implication being that most 
people don't invest in repairing disposable 'bots.

But the man was good.  I watched in fascination as he quickly 
deactivated her - for the first time since I'd gotten her - and 
installed the upgrade in easy efficient motions.

It was strange seeing Lindsey shut off in this manner.  She 
seemed like a big rag doll lying facedown on his bench.  She 
looked even more lifeless then she had when I first saw her 
standing in that window.

Afterwards Jake topped off her energy cell and ran a full set of 
diagnostics on her.  He looked at the results, frowned, and reran 
the diagnostics a second time.

"You might want to turn away for a moment," Jake said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I need to open her up for a moment.  Some people have found that 
upsetting."

I didn't understand why, but decided to take his advice.

It was only a few moments more before he said I could turn back 
again.

"I fixed her sexual systems," Jake said in his succinct manner.  
"On these models they're often not connected properly.  Hers is 
fine now."

Then he reactivated Lindsey and pronounced her better then new.  
And it was true.

After I paid him and we left, Lindsey wanted to just stand 
outside his shop while her programs jockeyed around to refit 
themselves into their new, expanded home.

After a couple minutes of this she suddenly turned and threw 
herself into my arms giving me a big hug and fast kiss.

"Wow, I can't believe it!" she enthused.  "Everything can run at 
once now.  I just - feel - so much better." 

For the rest of the day Lindsey was bouncy with extra energy and 
enthusiasm, which made her a whole lot of fun to be with.

Over the next few days I consulted with Lindsey.  With her help 
and approval I bought a number of extra options for her.  
Although her processing capacity was only doubled, the possible 
interactions were multiplied.  Lindsey soon became a much more 
complex and multifaceted young woman.  And while I could still 
find her limits on occasion, it became much more rare.

The most unexpected result of this new expansion and programs was 
that Lindsey wanted to go back and re-experience all the 
adventures we had already done.

"I think I can understand them better if we do them again," she 
commented in a way that was not a demand, or even a request.  
Lindsey was just expressing a novel feeling for herself.

I'm not one to argue with a pretty lady, and truthfully I've been 
having a ball with her company.

- - -

Over the next few weeks several things changed.

I moved out of the family house to a place of my own nearby.  I 
still keep in close touch with the family because family is 
important, but the extra space is good for us all.  Amy gave us 
all her old - and old fashioned (anything over three months is 
out-of-date to her) - clothes and Lindsey now has a compete 
wardrobe, which she makes excellent use of.

I was finally feeling comfortable living in this new era, and I 
am giving more interviews about my past experiences.

Lindsey organized both the new house and my schedule until it 
became hard to imagine life without her.  Personal assistant 
skills must have been in one of the software options she had 
wanted to try out.

As obligations started to pile up it became harder to do our 
carefree wanderings around the city, but we did the best we could 
to not let life overwhelm us otherwise.  I still wasn't 
comfortable meeting too many people from this new era in large 
gatherings so our social life remained minimal.  But I am 
completely comfortable with Lindsey.

Even Amy noticed the change in Lindsey over time and came over 
several times to have close girl-to-girl talks with her old 
friend.  I respected her privacy and never asked Lindsey 
afterwards what they discussed.

And Lindsey still climbs into bed with me each night and thanks 
me not only for buying her, but also now for keeping and 
expanding her.  Somehow the subject of sex never comes up, so 
things stay pretty much the same, although Lindsey has taken now 
to wearing a very short chemise nightgown that was in the clothes 
Amy contributed.  It seems strange that I haven't explored the 
one remaining activity with Lindsey that is still taboo between 
us.

Except for the nightgown, which she would change into when the 
time came each night regardless of whether or not I was in the 
room with her, Lindsey hadn't made any sexual moves towards me.  
I don't consider her climbing in bed with me to be sexual.  I 
know she has the programming, and will take Jake's word that she 
has the equipment to go with it, but it all remained dormant.

All I can offer in explanation is that I didn't want to take a 
chance of messing up what was already working so well between us. 
 Although that was undoubtedly tangled in with thoughts on how it 
would look to others, and feelings of she would only do it 
because her programming compelled her if I gave her that command. 
 I didn't need that yet.  She was more like the ideal daughter of 
the children I never had.

Several weeks passed by very nicely.

Then catastrophe struck.

- - -

"You really like this 'bot," Jake commented.

"I do," I replied simply.

Then he surprised my by sticking out his hand and saying, "It's 
nice to meet a man who doesn't believe in throwing away a nice 
piece of equipment the moment it becomes the least bit 
inconvenient to him."

I shook his proffered hand as he added reassuringly, "Let me see 
what I can do."

Jake said it would take several hours, and that I might find some 
of the sights "upsetting".  This time I realized he was 
protecting the illusion for me.  Seeing your friend and companion 
exposed as bare wires and hard gears might be a hard image to 
overcome afterwards.  While I doubted that would have actually 
bothered me, I realized that hanging around and being in the way 
wouldn't help any of us, so I left.

It seemed strange to be out without Lindsey by my side.  I 
wandered around for three hours with no particular destination in 
mind.  At one point I started counting the teenagers and the 
memory discs around their necks, but that quickly got depressing. 
 I soon found myself back at Jake's trying to loiter outside, 
rather then go back in.

He must have known I'd be there because he soon came out to 
collect me.  But rather then take me back to his shop, he ushered 
me into his office instead.

"It was a cascade failure," Jake explained on why I had found 
Lindsey lying next to me unable to move.  Barely able even to 
speak.

When I gave him a blank look in response he elaborated.

"You know that your 'bot is not built of the best materials?" he 
said.

I nodded.

"She should have easily lasted you six months even with daily 
use, but that's an average and you came out on the short end this 
time."

>>When Lindsey had looked at me that morning she already knew her 
fate.<<

"What happened is that a gear-drive joint failed in her arm, 
freezing that appendage." Jake continued.  "When she tried to 
compensate by driving more power into it, which usually works as 
a temporary fix until it can be repaired, her system overloaded 
taking out her movement controls and damaging her mind."

>>Lindsey had tried to smile at me, but even that effort was 
almost beyond her ability.  She knew she was badly damaged.  And 
that recycling was in her immediate future.

>>"I'm sorry," she had managed to say softly through barely 
moving lips.  "I should have been able to give you the full six 
months of service you paid for."

>>With her last effort she added, "Thanks for everything.  It's 
been fun."

>>After that she fell silent.  When her eyes froze in place I 
knew she had fully shut down.

>>My first panicked thought had been to immediately return her 
for recycling so that a memory disc could be made.  Then I was 
afraid that she might be so damaged that the attempt to make the 
disc would fail, but she'd be recycled anyway and I'd lose any 
chance to save her.

>>Then I remembered Jake, and thought how fortunate it was that 
I'd already met him.  Without him I wouldn't have had a clue on 
what to do next.<<

"So what have you been able to do for her?" I asked him.

"Fixing her physical systems was mostly a matter of replacing the 
damaged joint, some fuses and charred wiring.  Even repairing  
her motor controller and replacing the power cell are not 
difficult.  But these models are built without all the 
protections of the expensive models.  The surge damaged her mind 
beyond repair."

I felt like a fist had hit me in the stomach.  Then, after having 
hit me, grabbed a big handful of guts and ripped them out.  After 
that a blizzard blew through filling the gaping hole with cold, 
packed snow.

Jake must have seen it on my face.  More then that, he understood 
exactly what it meant.  He came over and put his hand on my 
shoulder.

"Each of them is a unique being," he commented calmly, as if 
speaking of nothing more important then the morning weather.  I 
appreciated him making this easy for me.

"Even if the rest of the world doesn't recognize it yet," he 
continued.

I nodded silently.

"I've just given you the worst case, in case it becomes the worst 
case.  Now let me tell you what I've done."

I looked up with hope in my eyes.

"I had a leftover fembot mind.  The full-blown, expensive model 
kind.  Completely clean.  Your 'bot's memory appeared to be 
intact.  I've transferred it all to the new mind and installed it 
back in the body.  Sometimes this works.  Sometimes this doesn't. 
 Before I turn her back on however, I want to know how you feel 
about this?"

I found myself thinking hard about this.  Even if it worked, 
would it still really be her.  Or was Lindsey - happy, bouncy, 
full-of-life Lindsey - dead from the moment she lost her battle 
this morning.  And if it wasn't Lindsey, would I be happy with a 
ghoulish doppelganger hanging around to remind me of who I had 
lost.

Earlier I had thought that it would be easy for me to watch him 
repair her.  It wasn't like cutting open a person or anything.  
Jake had been the wiser of us.  He knew how some of us come to 
value what our creations can offer us.  Jake appeared willing to 
give me all the time I needed.

However the more I tried to think about it, the more my mind 
seemed tied in a knot.  I'm not a philosopher or deep 
metaphysical thinker.  My only experience in serious thinking 
about death was when I had made the decision to take the long 
sleep into the future.

But as I sat there my mind kept going back to the images of the 
kids wearing their chains of memory discs.  I remembered how 
Lindsey had greeted Amy - as a long lost friend - when she came 
out of the machine after Amy had inserted her old memory disc.  
And how Lindsey had felt about those lost robot lives that still 
lived only on those memory discs that the kids were wearing.

To Lindsey memory transfer was real and continuous.  If it was 
good enough for her, it ought to be good enough for me.  I looked 
up at Jake.

"If it's her memories, then it's her," I said.

"Good," Jake replied.  "Let's go see what happens."

When Jake turned Lindsey back on she seemed lost at first.  She 
carefully moved each arm and leg, and then each finger and toe.  
After verifying that everything worked again she carefully felt 
herself over her entire body before looking up to meet my eyes.

"Steve?  What happened?" she asked wonderingly.

"Lindsey," I said, already certain that it really was her.  "Your 
mind was damaged.  Jake replaced it with a 'big fembot' spare."

Lindsey was speechless.  She had always known what her fate in 
life was.  This was unbelievable. 

Jake wished us well, but I barely heard him.

It wasn't until afterwards that I realized Jake hadn't charged me 
for any of this work.

- - -

It was good that I knew the city by now because on our trip home 
Lindsey was no help at all.  Before when Jake had expanded her 
mind it had taken her a few minutes to reorganize into the new 
capacity.  This time she was in a fog for hours.

I could see the changes in her already.  How she reacted, and how 
she looked at things along the way.  It was as if the whole world 
had been transformed from black and white into color in the blink 
of an eye for her.  At times she would suddenly smile for no 
apparent reason, or completely laugh out loud.  When I asked her 
why, she explained about some thing she had encountered before - 
or that we had done together - she now finally understood.  I 
accepted that this is a good thing for her.

That night, because she was still in her fog, I just started 
getting ready for bed early.  It then that she finally came out 
of it.  I could tell immediately since I know her moods well.

Without waiting for me to get in bed she came over and reached 
out to hold both my arms.  Although I know her well, and knew 
from the first moments that Lindsey had successfully transitioned 
to the new mind, she spoke to me with a deeper level of emotion 
then I'd ever heard from her before.

"Steve," she said.  "I'll never be able to thank you enough for 
all you have given me."

Then she pulled me down and kissed me - not as the enthusiastic 
teenager who had occasional did that in the ecstasy of the moment 
- but as a woman who meant every bit of it.

Her kiss was long and stirring.

Then Lindsey stepped back and said, "Now let me thank you 
properly."

With that she reached down and pulled off her top.  A few moments 
later she had the rest off and stood there naked.

Although I've never seen her naked before, given all the rips and 
revealing holes in Amy's clothes that Lindsey has worn over the 
weeks, I'm sure if I added them all up that I've seen all of her. 
 That was nothing like seeing her now.

The first thing I noticed after realizing that she really was 
naked were her breasts.  High, tight B-cups, jutting out the way 
only a young woman's can, with her slightly darker nipples 
pushing right out from the tips.  Below that her light skin 
pulled in at her waist and flared again at her hips.  Her naval 
looked perfect for her, and the dark blonde pubic patch below it 
was surprisingly lush.  Lindsey has the sexiest legs possible, 
and now I could see them all at once, right down to her pretty 
pink-red painted toenails.  Coming back up to look at the slow 
smile on her face told me she knew exactly what she was doing - 
and wanted every bit of it.  I felt good about it, because it was 
her choice now.

Lindsey let me look at her for a long time.  Long enough for me 
to realize that I'd rather be holding her then just looking at 
her.  Then, in the way young women can tease - although nothing 
about Lindsey was any sort of tease at this moment - she walked 
slowly forward on the balls of her feet, as though she was still 
wearing her heels.

When she reached me she wrapped her arms around me and pressed 
her chest against mine.  I automatically put my arm around her in 
return.  And when she turned her face up for another kiss I was 
more than happy to oblige.

I thought it might stop there until I moved things along further 
myself.  But once she had my arms around her body and out of the 
way, she got busy with her hands.  Moments later I was as naked 
as she was.

By now there was no lack of sexual interest on my part, which was 
apparent to any onlooker.  Once she knew I was ready, Lindsey 
dragged me off to bed and proceeded to give me the most 
aggressive sexual experience of my life.  At times she was on top 
of me, and other times I was on top of her.  She rubbed her chest 
against mine, and squirmed with pleasure when I handled her firm, 
young beasts and nipples.  She kissed every part of my body, much 
of it as I kept running my hands over her small, tight ass.  At 
one point I remember licking the full length of her leg while she 
genuinely laughed in pleasure.  Whatever had inhibited her - and 
me - before was gone now.

Exhausted finally, we cuddled together as tightly as we could 
press our bodies against each other.  I was amazed how lifelike 
Lindsey felt.  There is no difference.

Her last whispered words that night were her traditional, though 
now shortened, prayer.

"Thanks, for everything.  I love you."

They carried a lot more meaning then ever before.

- - -

Our life together changed on that night.  Lindsey was now my 
lover and partner, not my servant.  And our lovemaking isn't 
confined to just at night - or only in bed.

Although she acclimated a lot to her new mind that first 
afternoon and evening, Lindsey's full growth occurred over the 
next several weeks as she fully settled into it.

Once she had a good grasp on who she has become, we ordered a 
number of new programs for her mind to play with.  These were the 
sort that were too complex to have ever been loaded or processed 
in her original mind.  Before long I couldn't find her limits 
anymore - which is exactly the way I liked it.

The funniest result of all this was that once again we started at 
the beginning and repeated all our best adventures together so 
that Lindsey could finally enjoy them in full living color with 
live stereophonic sound.  I didn't mind a bit.  And when she told 
me how she finally understood my explination of what art is all 
about, I knew she'd arrived.

Yet despite her tremendous growth Lindsey remains intensely loyal 
and devoted.  She likes it when I give her commands - which I can 
never see the necessity for - but apparently she does.

When I once kidded her about how she'd leave me now that she was 
so smart and capable, she sat me down and explained how she would 
never forget her origins, or who lifted her out of them.  Her 
love is never given casually - or incompletely.

What I have is the nicest, most loyal, capable mind residing in 
the hottest sixteen-year-old body imaginable.  And she's learning 
how to use every bit of it.

- - -

One day Jake called.  Refusing to tell why, all he would say was, 
"Bring Lindsey in."

When we arrived he shooed me away and told me to come back much 
later that afternoon.  Considering all he has done for us, I 
could hardly refuse.

When I returned, an exceptional twenty-three-year-old woman was 
waiting to greet me.  

Jake had somehow gotten this spare body that resembled a grown-up 
Lindsey down to the last detail.  He assures me that it is of the 
highest quality manufacture and will last a lifetime.  Even the 
extended lifetimes of this age.

Jake showed it privately to Lindsey and asked her if she wanted 
it.  Lindsey had wanted to consult with me, but Jake had 
correctly insisted that this had to be her choice.  When she 
accepted he made the transfer himself. 

When Lindsey told me again that night how she loved me, it was 
the most natural - and true - thing for me to tell her how 
completely I loved her in return.

- - -

We still see robots like the original Lindsey and her sisters 
both for sale, and out on the streets when we go out on the town. 
 They're everywhere.  You can't miss them.  I thought the sight 
of this might bother her the way the girls wearing memory discs 
once had - but it doesn't.

As she explained it once, "I now know all of us have the 
potential to someday become the best we can be.  It just takes 
the right person to see it in us.  And that's why I love you so 
very much."

I guess in the end I got everything I came into the future to 
find.

<end>

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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