Never Love A Stranger Part 17

"So you postulate that the ability to love is the difference between machines and humans'"

Annie didn't like the way James looked at her, the way his voice lowered, as he asked the question.

"Humans can form permanent attachments," she said carefully, trying to find support for her position. "We marry. We form communities. I don't believe we do that just because of chemicals floating around in our

blood."

"No. You do it because of instinct. Humans are basically social creatures."

"Well, there you go," Annie said. "You don't have instincts."

"No. I have programming. Which one could also argue is much the same thing."

"How do you figure'" Kay said. She seemed reluctantly fascinated by the topic. "Your instincts provide you with a kind of template, a guide to which you revert in certain situations. My programming, at the basic level, serves much the same function. I can deviate from it with conscious effort, but I do not find it easy to do so."

"So you're saying that your mechanical functions are a.n.a.logous to human biological functions," Kay said. "I believe so, yes. I base my conclusions on over thirty years of observation of humans, since it is of course impossible for me to know, in any meaningful sense, what it feels like to be human. Then again, it is not possible for humans to know what it feels like to be a humanoid, either."

"So you think androids'sorry, humanoids--aren't inferior to humans, just different." James paused a long moment. "I am certain of it," he said at last, with quiet conviction.

Kay looked at him a long moment, then snorted. "Forgive me, but you haven't really provided much support for your position." The corner of James' mouth quirked up in an ironic smile. "Neither have you," he pointed out.

Chapter 13.

At midnight Annie was still awake. She lay in Kay's guest bedroom, her brain's switch apparently stuck in the on position, staring at the patterns the bright moonlight made on the ceiling. She had been trying to get to sleep for two hours now, but there were way too many thoughts swirling around in her mind.

She was pretty sure she was never going to sleep again.

At last she got up, yanked on a T-shirt and shorts, and headed for the living room.

James was asleep on the couch. She could see him clearly in the moonlight that slanted through the blinds. He had taken off his shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his chest, but he was still wearing jeans. Kay's black leather couch wasn't much bigger than Annie's, and he looked just as uncomfortable as she had expected. His legs were curled up rather tightly and he looked precarious, as though he might fall off at any moment. His long hair, silvery in the moonlight, spilled over the cushions. With his eyes closed, he looked young, and touchingly vulnerable.

"Can I talk to you'" she said in a whisper.

He did not stir.

"James," she whispered.

Evidently he was programmed to wake up at the sound of his name, for his eyes flickered open instantly.

He sat up and stared at her. In the moonlight his expression was unreadable.

"Annie," he said warily.

She looked at him a long moment. Now that she had woken him up she didn't have the foggiest idea

what she wanted to say to him. "Do you really sleep'" she said at last, cursing herself for the idiotic irrelevancy of the question even as it left her mouth.

"Conscious minds require down time," James said in a chilly voice. "Humans refer to it as sleep." The calm disdain in his voice made her want to sink through the floor. She stared at him a moment longer, then made a helpless motion with her hands. "Can I sit down'"

He said nothing, but shifted to the side slightly in acquiescence. She sat down on the far end of the couch and stared at the coffee table. "I've been thinking."

"How unusual." At his cool rejoinder her head snapped up, and she blinked at him for a long moment, feeling the odd impulse to burst into laughter. He was obviously annoyed with her, and he was as capable as a human of making snide remarks. It was, she thought, exactly the sort of comment an angry human male might make under the same circ.u.mstances. It was yet another indication that he really was a person.

"James," she said quietly, "I'm sorry about what I said to you."

His eyes narrowed. He looked both suspicious and hopeful. "What, precisely, are you apologizing for'" "I said some rather unpleasant things. I'm not really proud of the way I acted." "I see. So you are apologizing for calling me a walking, talking--" She interrupted hastily. "I'm apologizing for the way I reacted, James. That's all. I was--" She hesitated.

"Pretty rude about it." She sensed a slight thaw in his att.i.tude. "It is all right," he said stiffly. "I am, after all, only a machine." "You are more than a machine. You said so yourself." There was a long heartbeat of silence. "I got the impression you didn't believe me." "I was wrong."

James studied her thoughtfully. She could sense his suspicion. "You seemed rather certain that I was a machine earlier. What caused you to change your mind'"

Annie stirred uncomfortably. "I've done a lot of thinking, James. It's obvious that the humans of your time realized you were more than a machine, no matter what they claimed. Look at Dekka. She hates you and she wants you to suffer. People don't hate machines, and they definitely don't bother to hurt them, because they know machines can't really be hurt. Dekka knows you can suffer. She knows you're a person."

"I see."

"Anyway'." Annie struggled to explain her logic. "I think it's pretty obvious you're a person, really. I mean, you act just like a human. You obviously--" She felt a blush heating her cheeks and continued doggedly. "You obviously feel things. You obviously have emotions. I don't really have a lot of doubt that you're more than just a machine."

Hesitantly, she reached out and took his hand, curling her fingers around his. He stared down at her hand for a long moment.

"Annie," he said at last, softly.

"What'"

"Go back to bed."

She glanced up quickly, seeing the sharp edge of wariness in his expression. He had, she realized, no reason to trust humans, not even her. Perhaps especially not her. She tightened her grip on his fingers and moved toward him, so close her thigh pressed up against his.

"I don't want to," she murmured.

She could see she was having some sort of effect on him. The icy wariness was melting away and a gentle warmth was beginning to eddy in his eyes. "Annie," he said at last, in a rough whisper. "Annie, you aren't thinking clearly."

"I wasn't thinking clearly earlier, James." She squeezed his fingers so tightly that a human male would have winced. "But I am now."

He turned his hand over, wrapping his fingers around hers. Slowly he bent his head and brushed his lips across her forehead.

"I am grateful to know you no longer think of me as some sort of monster," he said in a quiet voice. "And I wish to apologize too."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, James."

"Yes, I do. I apologize for lying to you, and for my ' overreaction. Your response when you discovered my true nature should not have surprised me. I believe I expected too much of you. If the humans of my time were unable to believe that I was sentient, it was irrational of me to expect someone of this era to accept me so easily. I am at fault too."

"No," Annie said softly. "The fault isn't yours. It's ours."

"Thank you for that." James hesitated, and she could feel him drawing back, both physically and emotionally. "But--"

Without stopping to a.n.a.lyze what she was doing, without worrying about the consequences, she drew his head down and kissed him.

She could feel his hesitation. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he slipped his arms around her waist. She deepened the kiss. He did not resist. At last he lifted his head from hers and stared into her eyes.

"James," she whispered, "I--"

I love you.

She choked back the words. It was one thing to accept a humanoid as a person, equal to humans, and quite another to love him. It. Whatever James was. She didn't know if James was capable of love. She didn't know if he was capable of a long-term relationship. And she did know he couldn't sire children. That complicated matters, since one of her deepest dreams was to have a child. She leaned forward and pressed her face into his shoulder, willing herself to keep quiet. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

His arms tightened around her waist, and she felt him brushing his lips across the top of her head. He said nothing, made no effort to go any further. He seemed content with her there in his arms. And then suddenly he stiffened and raised his head.

"James'" she whispered, afraid he'd suddenly changed his mind. Afraid that he wasn't willing to forgive her after all.

"Do you smell that'" he asked.

Bewildered, Annie lifted her head. "What'"

James inhaled. "Smoke," he said briefly. "We have to get out of here."

Annie sniffed. She didn't smell anything, but she imagined his senses were superior to her own.

"James--"

"Get Kay and the baby up."

"But--"

"Now."

There was a startling authority in his voice, and to her surprise she found herself responding to it. She was on her feet and moving toward the hall before she had a chance to object. She flung the door to Kay's bedroom open.

"Kay. Get up."

She heard her friend groan in the dark. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing, Annie'"

At that moment the smoke alarm just outside the condo unit began shrieking. Kay sat up in sudden alarm. "Oh, my G.o.d," she gasped, standing up and bolting for the door. "Clark."

Annie scooped up Oscar, who had been snoozing comfortably on Kay's quilt, and ran after her. Thirty seconds later they were out in the hall, joining a milling ma.s.s of frantic people. "This way," Kay gasped, clutching Clark in her arms. He was howling, annoyed at being rudely awakened. "The stairs are this way."

As they ran, Annie noticed the thickest smoke seemed to be billowing from beneath the door of the unit next to Kay's. She recalled that Kay's neighbor, an elderly man, had moved out a few weeks ago in order to move into a retirement home. The unit was vacant.

She had the unpleasant feeling that this fire was no accident.

They joined the herd of half-dressed people stampeding into the stairwell, somehow avoiding being trampled. Once Annie was jostled so hard she almost fell, but James' arm around her steadied her. Kay clutched Clark against her shoulder. At last, after several nightmarish minutes in which Annie was certain they were going to be trapped in the stairwell and killed by smoke inhalation, they emerged into the cool nighttime air.

Oscar struggled free of her arms and leaped to the ground, annoyed and indignant, and scooted away from them. Annie didn't worry about him. She knew he wouldn't go far.

James' arms went around her, and she put her arms around his waist and buried her face in his bare chest. She was vaguely aware of Kay studying them with an expression that could have been annoyance or distress, but at the moment she didn't care what Kay thought. Kay might think James was merely a machine, but Kay was wrong.

Annie was certain of it.

Her attention was caught by a woman screaming. It was difficult to hear her over the hysterical babble of noise. Annie strained her ears.

"My baby! My baby!"

James turned toward the woman. "Stay here," he said.

Annie caught his arm. "James, no! Are you crazy'"

James yanked his arm free. "Stay here!" he snapped. "I will be back out in a moment." He turned away and plunged into the milling ma.s.s of humanity. She watched him making his determined way toward the shrieking woman. She tried to follow him, but Kay grabbed her arm, hard.

"Let him go, Annie!"

She saw him speak briefly with the woman, yank the door open, and lope up the stairs. There was absolutely nothing she could do except wait for him to emerge.

Everything was chaos. The babble of terrified people and the smell of smoke filled the air. In the distance sirens wailed. Oscar returned and wound around their ankles, meowing loudly. Annie hardly noticed. She stood rigidly, watching the door for any sign of James.

"He'll be okay," Kay said firmly, patting her shoulder. "He'll be fine, Annie."

"I should have followed him," Annie said in a choked voice.

"Don't be a moron, Ann. He's stronger and faster than you are. You couldn't have helped. He just would have wound up having to save your a.s.s too."

Abruptly, the door slammed open. James strode out into the night air, cradling a shrieking one-year-old in his arms.

Annie felt her heart stop. He was all right. He was smudged with soot, but there was no damage that she could see. Relief spilled through her in a waterfall of emotion. She stared at him, holding the indignant baby gently in his arms, and a storm of emotions rioted within her. Admiration, respect, and ' something else. Something deeper.

James looked over the crowd, obviously looking for her and Kay, and his expression lightened fractionally when he saw them. He walked toward the deliriously overjoyed mother, but his eyes never left Annie.

The crowd of people slowly became aware of his presence. They turned toward him and the babble of voices grew louder.

And then, as he delivered the wailing baby into its mother's arms, they broke into spontaneous applause.

Chapter 14.