* * * * *
“Hello, I’m Ashley Van Houghten.”
“Franklin Tempo,” Franklin replied, introducing himself. “We met two days ago.”
Franklin was a bit annoyed that she did not remember him. She did not seem so busy with other customers that she should not remember his name or his face. Also, Molly was standing right behind him. She must recognize the Warmbot that she sent over to his house.
They were standing in the same place that they had stood two days before, the mock kitchen where Franklin had first seen Molly and had been intrigued by the pinkness of its skin.
Molly stood quietly on the linoleum floor. The Warmbot did not register any recognition of the showroom. It just stood there, the grill was active, and the optical sensors were watching them. The collar on Franklins clean white shirt felt tight. He anticipated the end of this discussion, so he could unbutton the top button and breathe easier.
“You can get the faceplate and grill in different colors on this model. It comes in Ivory, cream, midnight blue, olive and ebony,” Ashley said.
“N-N-no” Franklin stammered, “I’m not interested in a new faceplate for Molly. I would like to return Molly. I’m bringing it back.”
“I understand it’s a big investment,” Ashley responded, “Go home, and think it over.”
“Right,” Franklin said, “I have been home, and I have thought it over. I do not want this Warmbot and now I am bringing it back.”
Ashley stared at him blankly. Franklin wondered if he was the first person who ever tried to return a Warmbot to the Savant Organic Robotics dealership. Based on her blank stare, Franklin had the impression that this had never happened before.
Presently Ashley said, “It’s a beautiful model, we do not always get organics of this quality. Look how pink the skin is.”
“I can see that it is a beautiful model,” Franklin said, “but it is not for me. I don’t want this Warmbot, I don’t want any Warmbot.”
Again, Ashley looked blankly at him. Franklin began to feel uncomfortable. The collar around his neck felt tight and constricting. This conversation was strange. She had sent the Warmbot to his house, and now he was bringing it back, what was so hard to understand. He began to wonder if Ashley Van Houghton was listening to him at all.
Everything she said seemed to be from a line in a brochure published by the corporation. Franklin was growing irritated by this conversation because it seemed to be going nowhere. He decided to try a new approach. He would probe the mystery of how Molly appeared at his house.
“Why did you send it to my house in the first place?” he asked, “I did not buy it.”
Again, Franklin was greeted with the blank stare, and then finally, Ashley said, “My Warmbot died today.”
“What?” Franklin was confused by this response.
Ashley repeated, “My Warmbot died today,” and then added, “You are going to want to see Grif in maintenance.”
Franklin recognized these last sentences as snippets from their first conversation from two days ago. Now Franklin was no longer irritated; he was intrigued. How often did his conversations with people around him run on auto-pilot? Now for the first time, he was aware of it, he wondered how often his day to day dealings with people around him and their conversations were a repeat of previous conversations. With Dolly, with Titus, were they merely re-stating the same words over and over again? Franklin’s interest turned to misgiving as he watched the vacant expression on the sale girl’s face. Was she even there? He wondered, was she aware that Franklin was here in person talking to her. All of a sudden Franklin got the impression he was having a discussion with a Warmbot, or something similar. Ashley Van Houghten did not seem capable of original thought.
Franklin ended the encounter saying, “I am going to see Grif in maintenance.”
Ashley said, “Go past the sales desk and follow the hall back to maintenance.”
She smiled, and when she did she exposed two neat rows of perfectly placed white teeth.
“Ivory,” Franklin thought, as he moved past her.