Page 73 of Atticus
BioNex also announced that it will sponsor bionic engineering scholarships at all technical and four-year colleges in the New Carnegie metropolitan area, in hopes of fostering interest within the local student population.
“We’re seeing a lot of growth in the industry and with an increasing demand for bionic assistants,” says BioNex founder Algrove Schroeder. “Weneedengineers.”
None of BioNex’s androids are factory produced. Each one is made by hand in New Carnegie.
“That’s how you know you’re getting top of the line American quality,” says Schroeder. “We need innovative individuals who want to ensure we stay at the top of this market, where we belong. What better place to look than our own community?”
The recording of the live video from the conference unveiling the SFX900V2s and announcing the scholarships has already been viewed 52 million times.
8
Lucy
I’ll never let him go.
Ever since Atticus came to my apartment that night several weeks ago, we’ve continued seeing each other in secret. Carlisle can’t dictate my personal life, no matter what she thinks or says. And unbeknownst to her, he remains fully synced to me, and we message each other constantly, digitally attached at the hip unless we’re in the middle of a lecture. It kinda feels like I’m having a love affair with my phone when he isn’t with me, but it’s what I have to work with right now.
It’s a Band-Aid solution, and one that I know it can’t last long-term. But it’s all we’ve got right now until I approach Carlisle about buying him outright. It’s the only solution that will work, I think, with little pushback.
The first problem is money. I need time to save. Atticus is a limited edition, and an expensive one at that. And I doubt Carlisle will agree to me paying her off gradually, like a car or a house. I could borrow money from Amber, I know she’d back me, but I can’t bring myself to broach the subject with her. I’ve got about half of the money accounted for in my emergency funds I’ve saved over my entire career as a teacher and an influencer. If I can get that number a little higher, Carlisle might be able to work with me.
The second problem is my job. I’ve already made peace with the fact I can’t say here, and my attempt to start over in a small town has been a grandiose flop. But meeting Atticus, being with Atticus, is all it takes to make that failure worth it. I’ll have to move back to New Carnegie and stay with my parents while I find something new.
But the moment I walk in there to get Atticus is the moment I’ll be resigning. I doubt the principal will accept anything less. And I want to be ready for that moment, with my head held high.
It’s shitty all around. I hate the very idea of buying Atticus. It’s like buying a person. And I’ve got a thousand reasons as to why that bothers me, why it should bother everyone.
But I have to tell myself I’m buying his freedom. Removing the chip that restrained him was a start, and the school hasn’t caught onto that fact. That freed the machine, not the man. To them, he’s still an object. He doesn’t have the ability to walk into the principal’s office and say “I quit” like I do. And I won’t leave him behind.
So while we’re stuck in this limbo, we carry on like this to keep ourselves sane. There are days where the secrecy of it seems wrong, and I want to scream it out to the whole world that he and I are together.
There are other times—like last night when he came to visit me again—where it feels oh-so-right, and the forbiddenness of it makes it all the more electric and exciting. Spending the night together until I’m worn out—Atticusnevergets worn out—and then we see each other at work and pretend like he didn’t deliciously fuck me only hours beforehand.
He’s awakened a hunger inside me that I all but forgot I had. We’re like two teenagers, sneaking around behind our parents’ backs. Unfortunately, he can’t visit me every night. On the nights he can, we make love everywhere and anywhere: the shower, the sofa, the floor, the kitchen counter. He’s had me so many different ways, and I can’t get enough of him.
On the nights where he’s stuck at another teacher’s house, he waits until everyone is asleep and then calls me. Sometimes we just talk quietly, exchanging stolen moments of affection with words instead of actions. I’m hooked on the sound of his voice.
Other times, when the coast is clear, he activates his video through his visual feeds. He has those capabilities actuallybuilt into his person. Then I can see him through his eyes as he stands in a mirror, slowly undressing for me. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but he’s mastered the ability to coax me into climax with his words. Those nights, lonely and hungry for the other, we whisper and pleasure ourselves while watching each other.
I’m addicted to Atticus.
He currently assists Mr. Bryant with American History and Biology, and the students on my roster miss him immensely. He always had a way of bringing them into focus that I lack because the idea of learning from a robot will always be enchanting to a child. I make it a point not to avoid Atticus in any aspect. If I shun him, I’m admitting guilt or shame, and I have neither. People can say what they like.
I’m just biding my time at this point.
* * *
It’s November. Thanksgiving break is near, and the fundraiser for the gymnasium roof is scheduled for tomorrow night. The air is cold. I’ve broken out the heavy winter coat, hat, and scarf. There’s no snow on the ground yet, but I’m told that’ll happen anytime now. I can’t wait. The grass is brown and dull. Bright, soft snow would be a welcome change to me.
During recess, I stand next to Atticus. We’re an arm’s length away from each other. So close, and yet so far. I want nothing more than to embrace him but professionalism demands I behave. I haven’t felt so smitten since I was a teenage girl, and never to this degree.
“Having a good day so far?”
“Not too bad. I think Bryant’s becoming fond of me. He’s starting to gossip with me.”
“Really?”
“You won’t believe what I found out,” Atticus mutters under his breath to me, standing at rest as he watches the children hang out in different areas on the school campus. A few kick around a soccer ball, others talk and sit together on a picnic table. So far, the peace has been kept.
