Out of Phaze

“I am incompletely familiar with local custom. Perhaps I should attempt whatever you choose to consume.”

Mach smiled. “Oh, I don’t have to eat. My power cell takes care of my energy needs.”

“Yes, of course; you are a machine. Perhaps we should dispense with this activity, in that case.”

Mach considered. He suspected that she was hungry, I but so anxious about making an error of custom that she was afraid to make her own choice. “I can eat,” he said. “I merely do not need to. Suppose I order nutro-I drink for each of us?”

“My gratitude.” Indeed, she was almost fawning. He placed the order, and in a moment they had two tall containers of the beverage, complete with straws. “Is it permissible to be private?” she asked.

“Certainly.” He showed the way to a booth, and the curtain closed about them, cutting off all sight and sound I of the remainder of the dining alcove.

Mach sipped his drink, using the straw. Agape hesitated. “It is a matter of generating a partial vacuum in the mouth,” he explained. “That causes the pressure of the air to push the fluid up through the straw.”

“My concern is not of that nature,” she said. “I am an alien, amoebic in nature. I can maintain the human form for ordinary pursuits, but am unable to do so for imbibation. I am concerned that my mode of assimilation would be a social indiscretion in your presence.”

“I will of course leave the booth if you prefer,” Mach said. “But I am scientifically interested in your biology, and I am not subject to annoyance because of differing modes of operation.”

Still she hesitated. “Narda termed it ‘gross,’ I believe that is why she preferred to separate herself from me.”

Androids were notorious for their crudities of behavior and humor. What could Narda have found gross? “Please be reassured, Agape. I am a machine. I have no emotion not programmed, and even those can be evoked or revoked at will. Nothing you might do would dismay me.”

“You are certain?”

“I am certain.”

“Then I shall assimilate this material.”

She put her hands to the container and stretched it wide, so that it gradually reformed into a broad, shallow dish. Mach had known how malleable the material was, as the empty containers were normally compacted into balls and rolled into the recycling hopper, but he had never before seen a person reform one while it was full of fluid.

Now she leaned forward, bringing her head directly over the dish. Her features melted, the nose, eyes, ears and mouth disappearing. Her head receded into her neck, and her breasts lifted to join it, forming a single globular mass above the table. This mass flattened and descended until it covered the full dish. The flesh dipped into the beverage.

In the course of the next few minutes the beverage disappeared, absorbed into the pancake-shaped mass of flesh. The amoeba was assimilating nourishment in the fashion of its kind.

Then the mass lifted, forming another glob. The glob stretched out, narrowing to form the neck, bulging below to fashion breasts, and shaping gradually back into the human features above. The configuration he recognized as Agape returned, features clean, eyes and mouth closed.

The eyes opened, and then the mouth. “Do you wish to depart my presence now?” she asked.

“No. I find your process of assimilation fascinating.”

“It is not gross to you?”

“It is educational to me. I appreciate being shown it.”

She looked at him without further comment. He remembered to resume work on his own drink.

“If I may inquire without offense,” she said, “how is it that you, a machine, have been crafted in human form? I have seen other machines in other forms, suited to their tasks.”

“I am what is known as a humanoid robot. I have been crafted to resemble a living human being as closely as is feasible, in both the physical and mental states. It is part of my father’s effort to integrate the self-willed machines into the society of Proton. If humanoid ones can be successful at this, then the nonhumanoid ones can follow.”

“But do not human beings grow from small creatures formed within the bodies of their parents? Surely you have a maker, not a father.”

“I have a father and a mother,” Mach said firmly. “My father is Citizen Blue, an immigrant from the frame of Phaze. My mother is Sheen, a female robot. It is possible for a female robot to be implanted with a human egg-cell that can be fertilized internally by a human male, and for her to nourish that cell in the laboratory of her body and birth it in the human fashion, becoming a surrogate mother to his child. But Sheen elected not to be modified to accommodate this; she preferred to have a robot baby, like herself. Therefore I am a robot, but my basic programming makes my awareness and intellectual quotient very similar to those of my father.”

“But then you were constructed as an adult, fully formed as you are now.”