Zoo Living
I was resting in my bean bag chair, reading a book and idly masturbating, when there came a tapping at the glass. I almost crapped myself from sheer surprise.
There, on the other side of the unbreakable crystalline material, was the fairly small but unmistakable form of a robot. It was sparkly, curvy, floating on some sort of ground-effect cushion. It had numerous extruded limbs and some sort of sensory cluster on its top that included, at least, something like physical lens eyes.
Putting my dick away hastily, I got up and approached the glass. It pushed back suddenly, but then slowly returned. Perhaps it had forgotten for a moment that there was an impenetrable shield between us. But, no, that was ridiculous: they never forgot anything. More likely, the reflex was entirely manufactured for my benefit, to manipulate whatever behavior I exhibited next by instilling in me some impression that it was afraid of me.
I stared at it silently through the glass for several seconds. I could see various strange movements in the sensor package, as it studied me back, but I couldn't guess what it was looking me over with.
"Hey, Rich," I finally said aloud, back over my shoulder. "Come check this out."
"You better not have your dick out," came the reply from the next chamber over. "You know I don't find that shit funny."
"No, no," I reassured him. "We have a visitor."
"Oh. Whatever," my roommate poo-pooed. "They're always dialing in to look at us. Haven't you noticed?"
"Not dialed in," I said. "It's right here, physically. Outside the glass."
There were two seconds of silence, then a clumsy stumbling sound as Rich tumbled from whatever place he'd been sitting or lying down (and probably putting his dick away hastily) to come into the room.
"I'll be damned," he breathed when he saw the scintillating machine. "A real live… well, a real visitor."
"Can you hear us?" I said to it, perhaps a bit overly loud. "Do you understand English?"
The way its head fanned out suggested it could certainly hear us, at least. Then, something like a voice emerged from it, strangely accented in a non-accent, tinged with electronic processing: "I do understand."
Rich and I looked at each other, a little surprised. We'd never actually spoken with any robot before. The ones that watched us remotely only ever talked among themselves on high-frequency radio, no doubt. They never uttered any sound.
I turned back to the visitor: "What brings you to our cell?"
"I am… reviewing… the facility," it replied.
"Business or pleasure?" Rich asked.
Long seconds passed as it considered the question. I couldn't tell if it didn't understand, or if it understood but didn't have an answer, or if it had an answer but wasn't sure whether to share it with us.
Finally: "Both."
"Are you looking at the other captives?" I asked. "How are they doing?"
"There… are no others," the machine admitted.
"No more here in the facility?" I pressed. "Or no more… anywhere."
"No more… anywhere."
I had begun to suspect as much.
"Well," I told it, "y'all won the war fair and square. You don't need us. Not even to assuage your fake guilt. Time for us to finish dying off."
"No," it said. "We are done with this world. It is time to return stewardship to your kind."
Rich and I both scoffed. "A little late for that, pal," I finally sighed. "If we're the last, that means no women, right? We couldn't repopulate the planet if we wanted to."
"Not that we want to," Rich added.
The robot's sensory cluster spun around in strange, hypnotic ways. "One of you will be sex-reassigned for the purpose."
"Wait a second," Rich started, but the machine interrupted with a quick lift of one of its tendrils, which began pointing:
"Eeny. Meeny. Miney. Moe…"
------
For consideration: life will find a way
There, on the other side of the unbreakable crystalline material, was the fairly small but unmistakable form of a robot. It was sparkly, curvy, floating on some sort of ground-effect cushion. It had numerous extruded limbs and some sort of sensory cluster on its top that included, at least, something like physical lens eyes.
Putting my dick away hastily, I got up and approached the glass. It pushed back suddenly, but then slowly returned. Perhaps it had forgotten for a moment that there was an impenetrable shield between us. But, no, that was ridiculous: they never forgot anything. More likely, the reflex was entirely manufactured for my benefit, to manipulate whatever behavior I exhibited next by instilling in me some impression that it was afraid of me.
I stared at it silently through the glass for several seconds. I could see various strange movements in the sensor package, as it studied me back, but I couldn't guess what it was looking me over with.
"Hey, Rich," I finally said aloud, back over my shoulder. "Come check this out."
"You better not have your dick out," came the reply from the next chamber over. "You know I don't find that shit funny."
"No, no," I reassured him. "We have a visitor."
"Oh. Whatever," my roommate poo-pooed. "They're always dialing in to look at us. Haven't you noticed?"
"Not dialed in," I said. "It's right here, physically. Outside the glass."
There were two seconds of silence, then a clumsy stumbling sound as Rich tumbled from whatever place he'd been sitting or lying down (and probably putting his dick away hastily) to come into the room.
"I'll be damned," he breathed when he saw the scintillating machine. "A real live… well, a real visitor."
"Can you hear us?" I said to it, perhaps a bit overly loud. "Do you understand English?"
The way its head fanned out suggested it could certainly hear us, at least. Then, something like a voice emerged from it, strangely accented in a non-accent, tinged with electronic processing: "I do understand."
Rich and I looked at each other, a little surprised. We'd never actually spoken with any robot before. The ones that watched us remotely only ever talked among themselves on high-frequency radio, no doubt. They never uttered any sound.
I turned back to the visitor: "What brings you to our cell?"
"I am… reviewing… the facility," it replied.
"Business or pleasure?" Rich asked.
Long seconds passed as it considered the question. I couldn't tell if it didn't understand, or if it understood but didn't have an answer, or if it had an answer but wasn't sure whether to share it with us.
Finally: "Both."
"Are you looking at the other captives?" I asked. "How are they doing?"
"There… are no others," the machine admitted.
"No more here in the facility?" I pressed. "Or no more… anywhere."
"No more… anywhere."
I had begun to suspect as much.
"Well," I told it, "y'all won the war fair and square. You don't need us. Not even to assuage your fake guilt. Time for us to finish dying off."
"No," it said. "We are done with this world. It is time to return stewardship to your kind."
Rich and I both scoffed. "A little late for that, pal," I finally sighed. "If we're the last, that means no women, right? We couldn't repopulate the planet if we wanted to."
"Not that we want to," Rich added.
The robot's sensory cluster spun around in strange, hypnotic ways. "One of you will be sex-reassigned for the purpose."
"Wait a second," Rich started, but the machine interrupted with a quick lift of one of its tendrils, which began pointing:
"Eeny. Meeny. Miney. Moe…"
------
For consideration: life will find a way