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Message-ID: <46535asstr$1076220604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} revised: Lindsey's Story {DB_Story} (M/fembot, cons, rom, first, ScFi, asfr)
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Date: Sun,  8 Feb 2004 01:10:04 -0500
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LINDSEY'S STORY
By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ )
Copyrightc 2002-2004 by DB.
ASSM/ASFR (M/fembot, cons, rom, first, 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.  Easier than going to the 
past.  And not by pure cryogenics - that second attempt to cheat 
time (the first were the Egyptian Pharaohs).  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 include: 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 may be a century or more 
out of date?

A lot of people questioned my decision to move forward.  I'm 
barely thirty.  They keep 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. 
 They just don't understand feeling you've arrived just a bit too 
early. 

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

I did it because I looked where trends are going in science, 
technology, and society.  My best talent has been my ability 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 on the sand 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 here.  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.  Not my own children's 
children - I never had any - but by brother's family had survived 
and prospered.  I was "adopted" into one of their homes and it 
seemed like everyone wanted to talk to me about what my time was 
like.

Although their interest never died, and they sometimes couldn't 
hide their laughter at my archaic notions or phrasing, it did die 
down considerably after three or four days.  After that I was 
pretty much left on my own as they moved on with their lives.

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 how I would have 
felt if I'd jumped from a century earlier into my original time. 
 This was only two or three times worse.  But I'd 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 my new world.  She 
thought it was a great idea for precisely two days, then felt it 
was getting in the way of her own social life.  Her complaints 
weren't enough to get her out from under the obligation however.

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

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

The next day 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.  She was clearly on a mission.

After some amount of seemingly random wandering I saw her pause 
and eyes loose focus as she made a call on her implant phone - 
something I was meaning to get myself some time soon.  Probably 
calling some of her friends for assistance 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 one, attractive, lifelike 
mannequin about Amy's age.  We'd walked past several similar 
windows with similar mannequins before stopping at this one.  Now 
I got to take a closer look.

The figure was lit well by floods at both the top and bottom of 
the window giving a perfect view.  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 
petite feet that read "Lindsey - age 16".  As I looked closer, 
the mannequin wasn't just attractive, she was gorgeous.  She 
symbolized 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 economical 
strappy heels that added a couple more inches to her height.  
Long golden waves of honey blonde hair with touches of brown 
framed a face that could only be called ideal.  Her lightly 
shadowed eyes were mismatched hazel and brown.  They gave her 
that single "imperfection" that makes real beauty happen.  Her 
face had natural high cheekbones with an unaffected blush that 
simply could not be improved on.  Her lips were flawlessly 
outlined and pursed slightly, as though waiting to speak her 
first words, or receive her first kiss.

She wore a two-piece outfit, also economical.  A simple, beige 
top matching up well with the darker pleated, knee-length skirt. 
 She didn't need fancy clothes to look beautiful.  She made the 
clothes honored instead.

Her light tan said she enjoyed the outdoors.  The loose clothing 
hid any details of her body, although you could see enough of her 
curves to know there was a complete woman inside.  Her smooth, 
exposed legs promised much more to come as they coyly 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 pushed forward just enough 
to compensate for the heels she wore.  Add this to the straight-
forward gaze of her clear unblinking eyes left her ready to take 
her first breath and step into your arms the next second.  It 
seems that mannequins have improved a great deal in this age.  I 
felt a sudden empathy for her, frozen in time as I had so 
recently been.  The only other thing I noticed was a small box 
hanging around her neck on a cheap, plastic chain.

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

When she finally found it 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 accept 
sensor.

Next a "coin slot" started flashing 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 at 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 there 
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 I was too astonished for words.  Fortunately I didn't 
need any.

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

"Amy," she squealed like any young woman, 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 than 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 bowed her head slightly and formally stuck out her hand. 
 Somehow managing to look both bashful and bold at the same time 
she said in a mock serious tone, "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 
awkwardness 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 new nametag and 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'd 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 quantities.  
Not only are they common.  In Lindsey's case, they're 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."  Perhaps the cost of buying back some of 
her freedom from her "duties" was worth whatever it cost.

So 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 his or her 
own lives to take care of me 24/7.  So I really wasn't upset at 
all on how this was turning out.  Already I was beyond the 
feeling of needing a constant guide.

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, 
where attendance is mandatory for everyone in the family - even 
Amy.  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 is 
designed to represent.  In fact I soon realized that talking to 
Lindsey is a lot like talking to Amy, even down to Lindsey having 
some of Amy's mannerisms.  Except with Lindsey I always have her 
unwavering attention.  I soon learned why that was the case.

Detecting that I was new to fembots Lindsey started out with a 
pre-programmed introduction to herself.  She proudly showed me 
her control box, "Just like the big fembots have."  It has her 
ON/OFF switch and COMMAND button.  She explained how I should 
keep it with me whenever we are out together, and leave it around 
her neck, 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 
how this is part of learning responsible ownership of a 'bot.  I 
was surprised how casually she told me the different occasions 
when I should simply shut her down.  She seemed so alive, to be 
so willing to assist me in shutting her down any time I wished.

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.  She is 
allowed to make some assumptions as to what I mean when I just 
ask her something, "But using my remote is a good habit to 
acquire," she instructed me.

Then she made me practice several simple commands with her before 
she would continue.  Even with that little bit of practice, it 
easily became natural to command her that way, which seems to be 
her intent.  It certainly didn't seem to bother her.

Even with her 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 own ideas on what those limits 
must be, and turned out to be surprisingly wrong in several 
significant regards.  Later she would tell me that a number 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 those other limitations imposed on 
her.  Lindsey seemed to like being as helpful as possible.  In a 
way her survival depended on it.

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 heard 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 all 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 scrapped 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 was not a problem to her.

"And then no more Lindseys?"

"If my model remains popular 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 
our relationship can be continued."

"Amy owned you before?"

"Not me exactly," she replied, struggling at bit with how to 
explain this concept.  "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.

"Only to the owner?" I asked, not realizing how much I was asking 
of Lindsey with that question.

Again she struggled before replying, "It can be confusing to the 
'bot as well," she finally admitted, adding, "If my owner has 
previously complemented me on my blonde hair, and I'm now a 
brunette it can be difficult to reconcile.  But nobody worries 
about that," she finished brightly.

"How long did Amy 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."  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 just 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 the first hints of her limits.

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.  Perhaps she comes with some form of her own 
implant phone for a news feed.  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.  This probably helps her 
younger charges learn critical thinking methods.

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 it was time to get some sleep if I was going 
to be of any use the next day.  People were discovering that I 
had been awakened from the Long Sleep.  Already a historian had 
contacted the family asked for an interview.

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 
didn't feel proper with Lindsey in the room however.  Even 
changing into the pajamas I kept for awkward situations while in 
front of Lindsey felt odd to me.  I suppose I could have 
commanded her to turn around and close her eyes, or even shut her 
down until I'd changed.  Instead I changed in the bathroom.  Then 
came out and got into bed.

"Good night, Lindsey," I said politely to her, not knowing what 
other protocol to perform.  I didn't feel right just shutting her 
off.  If there had been any practice sessions about using her 
power button in my introduction to her she had skipped them, 
along with any instructions on what to do with her at night.

"Good night, Steve," she replied brightly.

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

I was just falling asleep when 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.   Instead 
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 morning I found Amy and asked her about a quick trip 
into town to help me find the interview location with the 
historian.

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

When I asked Lindsey if she knew how to get to 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 especially 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 than with 
Amy.  With Amy there was always the implied burden of her having 
to do it, which as any teenaged woman can do, was excellent at 
communicating it without uttering a single word.  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 
with Lindsey that night.  That seemed okay with her too.  I only 
pulled on my pajama bottoms before climbing into bed.  Lindsey 
again climbed in as well 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 each 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, however, is a precocious not-so-little girl, as I would soon 
find out.

- - -

Lindsey and I spent most of our third day together at the city's 
main art museum.  Lindsey has a built-in art catalog she can 
recite from at will, perhaps is the futile belief that her owners 
can learn something of enduring value from her.  However she is 
just parroting what others have written.  I tried to explain to 
her what art really is all about, but she finally replied that I 
was only giving her a headache.  While I'm not certain, I don't 
think fembots can have headaches.  It's just her charming way of 
saying that she couldn't comprehend 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've started taking her hand to avoid having her link arms 
with me everywhere we go) 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 this 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 
picture 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 
bombshell.  As I was getting ready for bed she told me that Amy 
had activated her basic sexual programming when she first owned 
her, and added more as an option later.  And because of the 
memory disc, she still had it all.  That changed the whole tenor 
of her sleeping with me.

I had no intention of asking why Amy had wanted, or how she had 
used, the 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, unaware of her true sexual nature.  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 certainly 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, without even using her 
Command button - 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 appealing as it was, and the 
conflicts about it were all in myself.  I wouldn't be dumb enough 
over this to move her out of my life.  I'd just keep it under 
tight 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 Amy and 
Lindsey exploring each other while losing their virginity under 
the covers at night in an attempt to encourage themselves to grow 
into mature women faster.  In the last dream Lindsey had grown 
into a confident 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 want to keep my happy since 
I have 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 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 much higher heels.  A 
white, tight top with bare-midriff sharply outlined her small, 
pointed 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 nice 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 it happened I asked her why.

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

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

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

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.  Often 
several over their teenage years.  Some of them like to wear the 
memory discs that they receive when we are recycled as status 
symbols."

Lindsey stopped, but I picked up her 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 yet 
again in a new light.

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

- - -

Lindsey and I continued to explore further 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 adventure.  I can guess just what kinds of 
adventure some times.  My tastes however 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 soon enough.

 Then I remembered Lindsey telling me about how her sex 
programming had been augmented 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 and 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 originally cost 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'd 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 still lurking in there somewhere.

I wasn't going to install it myself.  I quit installing expansion 
cards in my PC nearly 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.

I learned later he had a fascinating history as well.  Turns out 
he is originally from near my time, and had always known he was 
destined to be a 'bot technician.  He had himself suspended until 
the days of true robots, and seemed to care about them more than 
anyone else from this era.  Exactly the kind of person I wanted 
working on Lindsey.

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 small 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 find 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."

He reactivated Lindsey and pronounced her better than 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 most of the remaining programming options 
for her.  Although her processing capacity had 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, that 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 my family because family is 
important, but the extra space is good all for us.  Amy gave us 
all her old - and old fashioned (anything over three months is 
terribly out-of-date to her) - clothes and Lindsey now has a 
compete wardrobe, which she makes excellent use of.  I gave Amy 
some additional spending credit in return out of fairness, and 
think I have her as a friend for life now.

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

Lindsey stepped in 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.  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 changes in Lindsey 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 abilities.  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 remains 
unexplored between us.

Except for the nightgown, which she changes into the same time 
each night regardless of whether or not I'm in the roomm 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 is already working so well between us. 
 Although this is undoubtedly tangled in with thoughts on how it 
would look to others, and my feelings that she will only do it 
because her programming compels her.  I didn't need that yet.  
Lindsey is like the ideal daughter of the children I never had.  
It was getting harder however to ignore those high young breasts 
pressing proudly against the thin fabric that she never made any 
attempts to hide.  If anything, she still seemed oblivious of her 
own sexuality.

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 good 
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, hydraulics, and hard gears might be a hard 
image to overcome afterwards.  While I doubted it 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, and kept reaching for her hand that wasn't there.  At one 
point I started counting the teenagers, and the number of 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 that morning, 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 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 
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.  You will be compensated for my 
failure."

>>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 she might be too damaged for that to succeed, 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 under less serious circumstances.  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 than 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 remarked calmly, as if 
speaking of nothing more important then today's weather.  I 
appreciated him making this easy for me.

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

I nodded silently.

"I've 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've had a leftover fembot mind.  The full-blown, expensive 
model kind.  Completely clean.  Your 'bot's memory appears to be 
intact.  I've transferred it all to the new mind and installed it 
back in the body.  Sometimes this works.  Sometimes for reasons 
no one understands yet, it 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'd 
lost.

Before I'd thought it would be easy for me to watch him repair 
her.  It wasn't like cutting open a person or anything.  More 
like repairing a car.  Jake had been wiser.  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 some deep 
metaphysical thinker.  My only experience in serious thinking 
about death came 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 
resided on the memory discs 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, understanding completely.  "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 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'd always known her fate in life.  
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 his work.

- - -

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

I could see 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 flat black and white into three-dimensional 
color in the blink of an eye.  At times she would suddenly smile 
for no apparent reason, or completely laugh out loud.  When I 
asked her why she would explain how something she had encountered 
before - or that we'd 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 was then she finally came out of 
it.  I could tell immediately, knowing her moods as well as I do.

Without waiting for me to get in bed she came over and reached 
out to lightly hold both my arms.  Although I know her well, and 
knew from the first moments when Lindsey had successfully 
transitioned to the new mind, she spoke to me with a deeper level 
of emotion than 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 done 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.  You've waited more than long enough."

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

Although I've never seen her naked before, looking away each time 
she changed clothes, given all the rips and revealing gaps in 
Amy's clothes Lindsey has worn over the past weeks I'm sure if I 
added them 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 slightly darker nipples pushing 
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.  And Lindsey has the sexiest legs possible, now I could see 
them all at once, right down to her pretty pink 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 than just looking.  
Then, in the way young women can tease - although nothing about 
Lindsey was any sort of tease now - she walked slowly forward on 
the balls of her feet, one foot placed precisely in front of the 
other, 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 unless 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 our 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 those 
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.  This Lindsey's body was 
still virginal, and once I finally entered her she held me there 
longer than I would have believed possible.

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

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

"Thanks, for everything," she told me.  "I love you."

They carried a lot more meaning than ever before.

- - -

Our life together changed that night one more time.  Lindsey 
became 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.  In some ways I 
truly believe that having grown up in such a smaller mind to 
start with allows her to now make much better use of this mind.  
Compared to other "big fembots" I've since met, Lindsey remains 
unique.

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 
sorts 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 like it.

The funniest outcome of all this is 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 surround sound.  I didn't mind a bit.  It's not like I had a 
job or anything else taking my time.  And when she told me how 
she finally understood my explanation 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 formal commands 
through her remote - which I 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 specify 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 boys and girls wearing 
memory discs once had - but it doesn't.

As she explained it once, "I know now all of us have the 
potential become the best we can possibly 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>

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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