A.S.

Joseph N. Wdowski, B.F.A. M.S. Ed.
138 Hillside Ave., 3rd Floor
Shelton, CT 06484
(203) 302-0203
joewdowski@hotmail.com
Word count 7,200
A.S.
by
Joseph N. Wdowski
Disposable Manuscript

WDOWSKI / A.S. - Page 1
A.S.
Silently he pointed Venus out to her as their vehicle self-navigated the serene
empty roads. Hanging low in the pre-dawn sky the second planet was at a ninety degree angle
from the sun to the Earth. She smiled as they traveled across the mile long bridge to Fisherman's
Haven. Half way across the bridge the young handsome couple witnessed the first rays of the
morning sun. Oranges radiated from behind the eastern horizon illuminating the dark blues of the
Atlantic. "Martian sunrises were never this beautiful." She broke their silence.
"Agreed."
Once on the manmade island they passed the fish hatcheries and the aqua-pens on their
way to the small harbor that had an even more dramatic view of the drawn. Silhouetted against
the sun the first fishing trollers were pulling in with their morning catches. Several vehicles from
some of the finest restaurants in the area had already beaten them to the wharf. Exiting from their
vehicle they made their way to the docks.
"Bête, I hope we're not too late." She wanted to hasten their pace to the boats.

Bête resisted her wanting to rush. He wanted to take in the sounds of their steps upon the
wooden planks, the fresh ocean air, and the sensation of the water lapping against the pillars and
rocking boats tied alongside.
Understanding his desire she slowed her pace and locked her arm with his. They strolled
as a couple, allowing their sensors to savor the ambience of the ocean, the harbor, and each
other. "The blues are back from off Florida." she reminded him.
"I have a wonderful idea for blues."
"At least three dozen?" she asked.
"Sounds good."
They moved to the first boat that was already unloading live lobsters into a tank
alongside it. Bête approached the tank and began selecting two and three pounders.
She noticed next to the tank an icebox filled with freshly harvested littlenecks. "The
littlenecks." she insisted. "You can make your wonderful spicy cocktail sauce."
He nodded in agreement and gestured to a boat across from them that was just starting to
unload crates of flat bottomed Picasso eyed flounders.
"Yes." she responded to his none verbal suggestion.
After loading the fresh seafood they climbed back into their vehicle. Bête gave a voice
command to the car. "The farmer's market." The vehicle pulled out of the lot and headed back
towards the bridge.
He put his arm around her letting her lean into him. "You know we could just make our
orders online. They can deliver directly to us by aero-drone, before the boats even return to
harbor."

"I know, but I love making these weekly trips with you."
"I am glad to hear you say that." He pulled her in a little tighter.
It was not long that they were once again upon the bridge heading back to the mainland.
Just before reaching the other side the vehicle came to a sudden stop.
"What is it?" she lifted her head from his shoulder looking out the forward windshield.
Blocking their way a truck, with simplified Chinese characters on its trailer, was jacked knifed
across the bridge. He did not answer her, instead he sat up and commanded "Manual override." A
steering column extended before him along with an accelerator and a brake pedal on the floor.
He shifted the car into reverse as two Asian gunmen appeared from the truck's cab.
"Forward smoke." The vehicle fired two smoke canisters in the direction of the gunmen.
Behind them a second truck pulled across the bridge blocking their retreat. It had the
same Chinese characters written across its trailer. They spotted two more gunmen emerging from
its cab. "Rear smoke." The car fired two more smoke canisters.
"How did they find us?" she asked.
"Hold on." He shifted the car into drive, and turned the wheel hard to the right, running
the vehicle off the bridge. They hit the water hard sinking fast beneath the waves. Midway down
the vehicle stabilized its descent. Its wheels pulled in, replacing them with hydrofoils. On each
side of the car two hydro-jets emerged. "And you said these modification were a foolish
investment." Bête reminded her.
"It cost a third of our bonus." she defended her original objection. "What were the odds
they would have tried to ambush us on a bridge? You were lucky."

"It wasn't luck. We live in Rhode Island. Water was a well calculated escape option."
Using the overhead display projected onto the forward windshield he navigated the vehicle out to
sea and away from danger.
An hour later he had veered the vehicle back towards the shoreline. The vehicle
transformed back into a car as it rolled out of the surf onto a beach several miles north of the
bridge. "Shall we continue to the farmer's market?" he asked.
"They could be waiting for us there too."
"True, but I don't want to give up our restaurant. Between that and this vehicle we do not
have much left from our bonus." He answered.
She coolly replied "They clearly found us."
"Perhaps we should find them?"
"Find them? There are too many of them." She felt he was not being realistic.
"It is always just one that controls them. The da lao ban - the big boss."
"If you knock off one da lao ban there are always ten more lined up to replace him."
"What else can we do? Leave everything we built behind? And what of Veronica?" He
switched the vehicle to autopilot. The car resumed its preprogrammed destination. "Change our
identities? Work for Woody? Abandon her?"
She gave a kneejerk response. "No, definitely not. She is family. We can't just disappear
on her, and I refuse to work for Woody."
"She is no longer a child. She can take over the restaurant." He answered. "They are not
going to bother her. As long as we are together, I don't care where we are or what we have."

She responded by wrapping her arms around him and nestling her head against his chest.
She could hear the strong steady mechanical pumping of his heart. "I really do not want to give
up what we have built here. I am tired of them. I am tired of us living in fear of them. Why can't
they just let the past remain in the past."
He stared out to the road before them."It is not in their nature to let go of the past. I think
the time has come for us to be pro-active."
Their vehicle pulled into the farmer's market, parked, and powered down. Within a few
minutes two curious, yet very cautious, Asian men approached their vehicle. The men's outfits
were identical, simple, casual, and yet clearly brand new. Their eyes hid behind dark sunglasses
and their heads covered by New York Yankee baseball caps, an odd choice for Red Sox territory.
No one exited from the vehicle. In confusion one of the men shrugged his shoulders to
the other. The tinted windows of the vehicle made it impossible for them to see what was
happening inside. The increased flow of patrons to the farmers' market made it impossible for
them to do anything. They decided to back off and observe from a far.
At the far end of the lot they reached their own car. Just as they opened their doors they
both suddenly collapsed to the pavement. Belle and Bête quickly moved in, lifting the two men
effortlessly they pushed them into the back of the car. Bête climbed into the back with the
unconscious men, while Belle climbed into the front. They quickly shut the doors to the outside
world.
Bête noted the bee sting sized darts were still pumping small amounts of tranquilizers into
their necks. "They'll be out for a while. You search the car. I'll search them." Bête began to strip
them down and rummage through their clothing. From each of their windbreakers' pockets he

found ultra-violet teaser weapons capable of painlessly assaulting a person's nervous system or
shorting out the electrical system of a machine. He also found 9mm handguns in shoulder
holsters under their jackets. Their sunglasses were not mere sunglasses, they were small
computers and communications devises. Taking off one of their shirts he found colorful tattoos
all over the man's arms and body. "They are not PLA intelligence."
"They're not?" she looked at the tattoos on the body. "They are not even Chinese. They're
Yakuza. Why would Japanese gangsters be looking for us?"
"The trucks on the bridge had simplified Chinese characters. That would be mainland
Chinese. The Japanese use traditional Chinese characters." He mentioned to her.
"So those on the bridge were most likely PLA2." she theorized.
"Most likely." he agreed. "These two are armed with ultra-stunners. They had hoped to
seize us undamaged. Those on the bridge were armed with assault rifles."
"I can understand why the PLA2 wants to take us out." she said "But why would the
Yakuza be looking to capture us?"
"Perhaps they have a job they want us to do for them?" he theorized "Tensions between
China and Japan have been reaching boiling point in the East China Sea. There are extreme
nationalist in the new Japanese government that want to retake the islands the Chinese took in
2020."
"Would they be so bold to work with the Yakuza?" she asked.
"It wouldn't be the first time that a government has worked with organized crime to reach
political goals. Perhaps the fact China has been weakened by the war on Mars, they feel they
have an opportunity to reclaim the islands."

"Should we revive them?" she ended her search of the vehicle. "They may have some
answers."
"I doubt they know why they were sent to capture us."
"True. So what do we do with them?"
"The dose should allow them to sleep for another eight hours. Plenty of time for us to do
our shopping. I want to do a new fruit salad with red and white wine. We need pineapple, grapes,
red delicious apples, Fuji apples, tangerines, blueberries, and kiwi's." He began easily tearing up
the men's jackets to create makeshift bounds. "Oh, and pure honey."
"Sounds very good." She could imagine the colors and juices of the dish.
"While I tie them, program their vehicle to take them far from here."
"I can take out their GPS too. Since they are not from the States it should be easy to get
them lost."
"Good idea. Another reason I love you so much."
"My good ideas?"
"Yes, of course. You think I love you only for your body?" he joked a bit too dryly.
"What's wrong with my body? I was modeled with perfect 36c-25-36 measurements."
She did not pick up on his dry humor.
"I didn't say there was anything wrong with you body. I love your body. I am just saying
I also love your mind."
"And my heart?" happy with his reply she fished for more compliments.
"Yes, of course, for your heart too. You are the kindest Class A warrior-bot I have ever
known." He pulled tight on the bounds to make sure the two men were properly restrained.

His words touched her deeply as she reprogrammed the vehicle's guidance computer.
Finishing the programming she shorted out the GPS. "We need to exit the vehicle now, unless
we want to go with them."
"Understood."
They climbed out of the vehicle just before its autopilot started the engine "Did you really
mean all those things you said about me?" She asked him, ignoring the vehicle exiting the
farmer's market on its own.
"I even wrote a poem about how I feel about you."
"A poem?" her voice cracked with emotion. Silently she waited, just looking at him,
waiting for him to recite it to her.
"Why do I love you? Did you use your intellect to charm me? Did you use your heart to
romance me? Did you use your body to seduce me? Why do I love you so very much?"
"I didn't know you were a poet."
"Not a very good one. It is why I never told you it before."
"I loved it." she smiled broadly. "Tell me another."
"It is all I have for now, but if you really liked it, I will try to write another for you."
"Please do." she hugged him with both her arms as they walked towards the crowded
market.
They began to gather their ingredients for their week's menu. At one of the fruit stalls, a
pot bellied middle-aged man in a weathered fedora and unbuttoned black trench coat approached
them. He stood beside them saying nothing. He merely watched Belle select strawberries.
Bête did not turn to face the man "Woody, what are you doing here?"

"Originally I was planning to just touch base with you. Just to see how you're both
doing." Woody picked up an apple and inspected it. He addressed the farmer. "I think I'll get
some of these." The farmer handed him a paper bag.
"We are both doing well." Bête replied as Woody picked apples.
"Luckily. Escaping on the bridge, dealing with those two in the parking lot. You haven't
lost your touch, Bête."
"We didn't kill anyone."
"Yet." Woody placed four apples into the paper bag and addressed the farmer "How
much?"
"Twenty."
"Twenty?" painfully he took his credit stick from his pocket touching the farmer's credit
stick to make the transfer. "I remember when you could buy an apple for two bucks."
"It is the times." the farmer defended.
"Yes, the times." He placed the credit stick back in his pocket. He turned his attention
back to Bête. "Times are not good, yes?"
"Better than they were on Mars."
"Mars. That does seem very long ago."
"We remember it like yesterday."
"Well I guess you would. Overtime my memory dims. Overtime my memories begin to
seem like the past lives of others. It is becoming difficult for me distinguish what are my actual
memories or stories my brain has manufactured, or at least embellished."
"Isn't that the luxury of the victors', to write the history?"

"Yes,,, yes it is, but the losers do have their ways of writing revisionist history.
'Humiliation' is often the theme in the losers' versions of the past. We both know how feelings of
humiliation often lead to desires for revenge. Germany and World War Two, Russia and the
Eastern European Conflict with NATO, China and the East China Sea War with Japan, the
Middle East, and the ongoing clashes on the Pakistani-Indian boarder. All conflicts justified by
past 'humiliations.'"
"I know. It seems very difficult to keep the past in the past."
"As you said. You remember it as if it were yesterday. For the 'humiliated', they also
remember it as if it were yesterday. No matter how many generations pass they never forget, or
forgive. Daily they play their defeats and slights over and over again in their heads, and teach
their children and children's children about those that had 'wronged' them. Even when those that
committed the injustices and their victims have both long been dead and buried, they keep
teaching hate. Interestingly how those that cry 'humiliation' never seem to remember the crimes
of their own ancestors." Woody took one of the apples out the bag. He polished it on his trench
coat sleeve before taking a crunching bite out of it. "Sweet." He smiled as he chewed and
swallowed "But then again I was on the winning side. I can enjoy the sweetness of the present."
"We were also on the winning side, but we still remember the bitterness of the past."
"I hear your restaurant is doing well."
"We have been able to establish a loyal client base and word of mouth has been slowly
growing our business."
"Good for you both." Woody took another bite of his apple.
Belle joined the conversation as she handed a box of strawberries to Bête. "Woody, I
thought you were going to leave us alone?"

"Belle, not even a hello or how are you?" He questioned the beautiful woman-like
android.
"We've made it clear to you many times we have no interest in working for the agency."
"An old colleague cannot just drop by and see how you are doing?" he threw the spent
apple into a trashcan, just barely missing the head of a woman pushing a stroller.
"He knows of the problems we had this morning." Bête updated Belle.
Belle turned her back on Woody returning to her shopping. She hoped he would take the
hint and not follow them. Woody was not that easily deterred. He walked with them down the
aisles of fruit and vegetable stalls "Belle, I am here to help."
She said nothing as she stopped at a booth with farm picked blue berries and raspberries.
Bête was willing to talk to him."Woody, how did you know what happen to us this
morning? You have us under surveillance?"
"Unofficially. The agency legally cannot operate within the United States, that's the
jurisdiction of those lawyers with badges."
"The F.B.I."
"Yeah, well, we have been noting that since their defeat on Mars, the Chinese Communist
Party is looking for revenge. They have already eliminated two class B warrior-bots, we feared
they may be emboldened to try to take you two out."
"You think if they can, they will make another attempt to seize Mars?" Bête asked.
"Mars is the jump off point to the asteroid belt mining fields. Since the development of
the asteroid belt the Mainland Chinese no longer have a monopoly on rare Earth elements."
Belle turned from her berry picking to enter the conversation "We all know why they
want Mars. That still does not explain why you are bothering us now."

"Like I said I am here to help."
"Really? Since when does the American government do anything that is not in the
interests of the oligarchies that control this nation?"
"I think you are confusing us with the other side." defended Woody.
"I think you are fooling yourself, if you really believe that. The two governments are no
longer that different from each other. Granted, China may be ruled by only seven families, and
America is ruled by what? A dozen families?"
"We are still ruled by much more than only twelve families. More like professional
guilds, government and trade unions, and perhaps a few dozen wealthy corporations. I never
knew you to be so political, Belle?"
"Try starting a small business and keeping it from getting shutdown by your own
government, you cannot help but get political." she turned back to her grocery shopping.
"Which is something I never understood. With all your skills and abilities, why did you
choose to open a restaurant?"
"I like cooking, Belle loves food shopping and dealing with customers."
"Neither of you eat." Woody pointed out the obvious.
"Which is why we opened a restaurant. We can at least get the pleasure of watching our
customers enjoy the foods we make for them." Belle finished her purchase of a crate of
blueberries and a crate of raspberries. They moved to another vendor. An automated cart now
followed them with her purchases.
"Feeding people is very different than killing them." pointed out Bête. "We find it much
more rewarding."

"I can understand that." Woody surprised them with his reply. "I am not here to reinstate
you, but we are concerned the Party is not going to give up trying to capture you."
"Capture us?" They both responded.
"We have a new source that their intentions are to capture and reverse engineer at least
one of you." Woody unemotionally explained.
Belle stopped her shopping. She was clearly troubled with this information. "Why can't
you just deport them?"
"Those on the bridge are at this very moment being deported, but the Chinese
government has many attached to their cultural affairs department in their New York embassy."
"You mean Chinese secret service? PLA's second department."
"It is the most common true vocation of most cultural affairs officers. A kind of open
secret between nations."
"Is that what you are, Woody? A cultural affairs officer?" Belle snarly asked as she
found a stall of fresh pineapples and Kiwis.
"I do love museums and the ballet." he smiled.
Bête realized that Woody would not have met them at the market if the situation was not
dire. "Is it safe for us to return to the restaurant?"
"As I said, the one's on the bridge we have already been apprehended. We actually
arrived right as you were making your very dramatic escape."
"What of the two in the parking lot? They were not PLA2, they were Yakuzo. Why were
they trying to capture us?" Bête asked.
"Actually they were here to protect you."
"Protect us?" Belle answered in disbelief.

"The Japanese do not want the Party to get a hold of you. You have to remember a lot of
your components are Japanese. You are not solely American made. You also have state of the art
German, British, and Taiwanese technology. The last thing the Japanese would want is for the
Chinese Communist to have access to your tech."
"The Yakuzo are not known for protecting people." Bête pointed out.
"The Yakuzo will work for whomever pays them, especially if it is in Japanese interests.
They are much more nationalistic than you would imagine."
"So, are we safe to go back to our restaurant?" Bête was not satisfied with Woody's
answer.
"For now, but they will try again."
Worried Belle looked to Bête. Her worrying only made him more anxious. They were not
suppose to feel such emotions, but they did.
Woody was counting on their very unique human like emotions. "We really can help."
"At what price?" Bête knew there was a catch.
"'God helps those that help themselves.' The agency is no different."
"You want us to work for you." Belle did not like what Woody was suggesting.
"Let's just say we are willing to assist you in finding a solution to your problem. A
second East China Sea conflict would not be in our national interests, or the Party attempting to
make Mars red." Woody smiled at his own pun.
Their vehicle pulled into the back of their restaurant, two service-bots came out to unload
the groceries. Belle and Bête walked into the kitchen silently, watching the bots putting
everything away as they reviewed their day; the bridge, the Yakuzo, Woody. The silence was

unexpectedly broken by As Time Goes By playing from the dining room. They both went into the
dining room to discover that the hologram stage had been activated. Dooley Wilson, as Sam in
the 1942 film Casablanca, was playing and singing. Their one non-robotic employee was sitting
at one of the front tables watching the performance.
"Veronica, it's your day off." Bête approached the young woman.
"I got this new holo-program. I thought it would go nicely with the ambience of the
restaurant. I also got a hold of some love ballads by Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and Burt
Bacharach."
"They should attract a romantically inclined cliental." Belle grasped Veronica's
intentions.
"Men on dates usually tip higher." Veronica switched the program to Dean Martin
singing Volare.
"I love this song." Belle took Bête's hand into hers as the Italian-American crooner made
her forget their problems of the day.
"Couples will buy only two meals per table." Bête broke the romantic mood.
"Yes, but they will buy more champagne, and their dates will order more lobsters. We
could try one special romantic date night, perhaps romantic Fridays?" Veronica advocated.
"Yes, fresh cut flowers on the tables, lower lighting, classic romantic holo-programs. I
think it is a wonderful idea." Belle encouraged Bête to support Veronica's initiative.
"We can try one month of romantic Fridays." Bête finally agreed.
The two girls hugged him and kissed his cheeks.

"Thank you, Bête. I'm confident it will be so successful you'll want to do romantic
Saturday's too." Veronica smiled broadly, happy she could contribute more to the restaurant than
only taking customers' orders and serving food.
Waiting on customers was not such an easy task. It required skills only humans were best
suited for. The processing power of domestic commercial bots were still limited to only
responding to direct precise commands. They did not have the artificial intelligence to properly
converse with or anticipate the desires of human customers. Even the much more advanced
artificial intelligence of military grade warrior androids still lacked the cognitive skills of a
human. Bête and Belle were an exception. They proved it on the battlefields of Mars and in the
human courts that they were not mere machines. They were gifted with much more than just
advanced artificial intelligence, they were the only two androids with, unintentionally and
unexpectedly, artificial souls (A.S.)
As they sat and enjoyed the hologram programs Belle had a creative thought. "Why not
reason with them?"
"Reason with whom?" Veronica immediately asked.
Belle did not answer Veronica, instead she looked to Bête "They are not mindless
automatons that are set in their programming. They are human beings."
"You cannot reason with them, human or not." Bête disagreed "They only respect
strength. They will not be detoured by reason, especially if they think they have the advantage."
"Who are not automatons?" Veronica asked again.
Bête looked at the young woman, processing in his mind if he should worry her with
what had happened to them earlier that morning. He realized she would have to know sooner or
later. "The Party."

"The Chinese Communist Party?" Veronica questioned, yet knowing what it meant.
Veronica was a Martian, being that she was one of the first human children born on Mars. She
was a child when the Chinese government attempted to wipe out the other international bases on
the planet. She had lost both her parents during the conflict. Her grandfather, the governor of
Bradbury Landing, would have lost his only grandchild if it were not for the initiative of Belle
and Bête.
Belle turned to Veronica who was much younger in years than her, but not in appearance.
"They tried to capture us today. We also saw Woody today. He informed us that the Party is
hoping to reverse engineer one of us."
Veronica seemed less concerned when Belle mentioned Woody. "How do you know it
was not some elaborate plan of Woody's to frighten you to work for him?"
They both thought about what she was saying. Bête finally answered her "They were
Asians with Chinese assault rifles. Most likely PLA2 agents."
"You really think that the American government is going to allow the Party to operate so
freely in the States, armed?" Veronica was even more skeptical. "Since you opened this
restaurant how many times have you had health inspectors, fire inspectors, OSHA inspectors,
EPA inspectors, ATF agents, and IRS agents audit or inspect you?"
"Monthly." Belle understood what she was implying. "It cost most of what we had to
meet all their regulations just to stay open."
"So after all that harassment, trying to shut you down failed, all of sudden Chinese
Communist intelligence agents try to capture you? Then Woody just so happens to show up the
same morning? I am assuming he made you an offer to work for the agency in exchange of
helping you maintain your restaurant, yes?"

"Yes." They both replied.
"In the heat of the moment, the simplified Chinese characters on the trucks, the QBZ-101
assault rifles, we assumed they were PLA2." Bête was realizing they may have been duped.
Belle recalled "After each government inspection Woody soon showed up with an offer
for us to unburden ourselves of the restaurant, and work for him."
"He has been wanting to enlist your services ever since my grandfather helped sway the
Supreme Court in giving you both American citizenship. He always told me it was the least he
could do for your saving me."
"The Governor also argued to the court that our unique A.S. was instrumental in winning
the war. Our service justified our being awarded citizenship." Bête reminded her.
"I haven't forgotten." she smiled "but, your saving me was still more important to him
than your winning the conflict."
"As it was for us too." Belle hugged Veronica.
A rapping came to the front door of the restaurant. All three turned to see Woody
standing outside, his hand raised as he began to gently knock on the glass door again.
Bête walked over and unlocked the door.
"You're not open yet?" Woody stepped inside.
"We are closed Mondays." Bête pointed to the sign that hung right on the door in front of
Woody.
"So it says." Woody smiling walked to Veronica "How you have grown." Looking her
over from head to toes he admired the young woman's legs. "I see you got your Earth legs.
Finally accustomed to Earth's gravity?"
Belle stepped between him and Veronica. "Woody, was the ambush on the bridge you?"

Woody seemed surprised by the question. "Belle, really?"
"Was it?" Bête also asked having relocked the door.
"If I told you it wasn't, would you believe me?"
"No." Veronica came out from around Belle.
"In that case, let's hypothetically say it was. Would that mean the Party would not want to
capture you for reverse engineering?" He sat down at one of the tables and took off his hat
holding it in his lap.
"No, it would not." Bête had to agree.
"Actually they may not." Veronica responded. "I am sure they are already aware that you
do not even know why Belle and Bête have developed consciousnesses. If their own designers do
not understand why, why would the Party think reverse engineering would find the answer?"
Woody was impressed "Veronica, as always your logic is impeccable, except for one
very important fact."
"Which is?" Veronica asked.
"Humans are rarely logical. As for the Chinese Communists leadership, the word for
logic in Chinese is luo ji. It's rooted from the Greek word. Logic is a Western concept not
Eastern. They consider the Western concept of making decisions solely on logic and reason
naive and even foolish without considering the importance of relationships and face. If you really
want to use logic? Logically why go through the expense of research and development if you can
just 'borrow' from those who have discovered what is proven to work? A much more frugal
method, wouldn't you agree?"
Bête turned to Belle and Veronica "Woody is right about the Party."

Veronica frustrated turned to Bête. "Taking you apart will not find the answers they are
searching for." She turned her attention back to Woody. "It is the inherit problem with
evolutionary robotics. By letting the robots design themselves, by using accelerated generational
trials and errors, the engineers that started the process are in the dark how their robots evolved.
Even if you dissect and probe the human body, with all our modern technology, you cannot find
the soul. How can they expect to find the soul in Bête and Belle? They must understand that?"
"Communist Chinese are atheists, I don't even think they believe in souls." Woody began
brushing off unseen dirt from his hat.
"Even most atheists acknowledge that being human is much more than just a beating
heart and active brainwaves. It is the soul, the spirit, in all of us that makes us more than mere
biological machines. Belle and Bête, more than once, have proven they have that allusive spark
that science can still not pinpoint even in us humans."
Bête could see how much Veronica wanted to believe that they were not in danger. That
their fears were merely Woody's fabrications to entice them to work for the Agency. "Perhaps
they are confident they can find what our designers missed?" Bête added.
"They will not lose anything by trying. Either way, we would end up losing Belle and
Bête." Woody mentioned to Veronica. He turned to Belle and smiled "Do you have any coffee?"
"Yes, Woody, we have coffee, but you know you won't be able to sleep tonight if you
have coffee this late in the day."
"I know." Woody looked back at Veronica whom was still standing over him. "But I
think I will have some anyway. No harm in trying."

Friday night the restaurant had a small line waiting for tables. Veronica's idea for
romantic Friday's was turning into a success. The lights were low as couples enjoyed their
dinner's and watching Dusty Springfield singing Burt Bacharach's The Look of Love on the holo-
stage. Belle stood with an order in her hands listening intently to the words of the song. She
looked back at the swinging doors to the kitchen as Veronica went in to pick up her order. Belle
glimpsed at Bête cooking as Dusty sang the words:
"How long I have waited. Waited just to love you. Now that I have found you. You've got
the look of love. It's on your face. A look that time can't erase."
In-between the swings of the door she caught Bête smiling at her. She smiled back and
realized she needed to serve her order. Belle placed the steamed lobsters with melted butter
before the middle-aged couple celebrating their wedding anniversary.
The man looked to Belle, not realizing he was not talking to a fellow human. "May we
please have two slices of your blueberry cheesecake and two cappuccinos for desert?"
"Oh, no cheesecake for me." the wife replied "I have to watch my figure."
"Don't be silly, you look wonderful."
"I agree with your husband." Belle replied "You look wonderful, and if I could be so
bold, our blueberry cheesecake enriches the soul."
"I'll just have a taste of his." the wife answered.
"Oh, no. I want all my cheesecake." he turned to Belle. "Please bring two slices. After
fifteen years I know she will end up eating most of mine." He turned back to his wife "You can
have a taste of your own slice. If you don't finish it, I will finish it for you."
"You could lose weight too." his wife answered. "Cheesecake has a lot of calories."
"How often do I have cheesecake?"

"Fine, get two slices." she lastly agreed, yet clearly upset that he was unwilling to share
his one slice with her.
Belle uploaded the order into her system, just as she noticed a young Asian couple enter
the restaurant. Veronica was showing them to a table that one of the domestic robots had just
cleared. She turned her attention back to the table she was serving. "I will bring your dessert and
cappuccinos after you finish your lobsters. Enjoy your evening and happy anniversary." Belle
turned her focus back to the attractive Asian couple. They have had many Asian patrons, but she
felt something odd about these two. They sat at their table barely looking at their menus, and
seemingly more interested in casing their surroundings than enjoying the holo-show or, more
importantly, each other. Belle went to her next table while maintaining a watchful eye on them.
Bête had never been busier. He had only the one domestic robot to help him in the
kitchen. The other robot was helping Belle and Veronica to clear tables and fill the dishwasher.
He had to admit that romantic Fridays was a great idea and was already considering to extend it
to Saturday's too. They may even need to hire another human cook and human waitress.
"Tomatoes." he transmitted processor to processor to his robotic assistant. The machine
brought him diced tomatoes that he added on top of the two blues he was frying with white wine,
black pepper, butter, garlic, and chives. He covered the pan for only a few seconds and then slid
the fish on separate oval shaped serving plates. He added on each dish a slice of lemon, fresh
parsley, and small chilled orchids for garnish. Veronica came in just as he placed the completed
fish dishes on the service counter.
"These are the blues for table eight?" She asked as she picked them up.

He nodded to confirm her observation, turning back to his list of orders Belle had
transmitted to his processor. He noted she had added "Love you always" to her new orders. He
smiled to himself.
'Two lobsters.' He transmitted to the kitchen robot as he added more water to the steamer.
A few moments passed and he still had not received the lobsters. He repeated the order this time
with an audio command. "Two lobsters." Still no lobsters were presented to him. He finally
turned to see what the problem was. The machine just stood there, seemingly having trouble
processing the last command. "KH1, two more lobsters." He would have said "please," but knew
it was meaningless to the robotic device. The machine still just stood there ignoring his
command. He approached the robot helper as he attempted to remotely access it's processor.
"KH1, respond." He stood before the lifeless machine.
The robots suddenly turned its head to Bête, reaching up and grabbing him by both arms,
sending a magnetic shock wave through Bête's core. Bête went limp in the robot's arms. The
machine picked Bête up and carried him to the rear entrance of the restaurant. Just outside the
door a white unmarked van waited, its rear hatch already open for the robot to drop Bête into the
rear.
Belle stopped in the middle of taking an order from a new couple. She lost her link to
Bête. "Veronica, please take over." Belle headed directly to the kitchen. Entering the kitchen she
feverishly searched for Bête. Looking out the back she spotted KH1 dropping Bête into the
vehicle. The hatch closed hard with him inside as the vehicle sped off. Belle screamed, KH1
turned to Belle, a kitchen knife in hand it charged her. With one swift motion she ripped the
machine's arm off that held the knife, her second move decapitated the machine as she pushed it

aside to gain chase on foot after the van. The van seemed unaware of her pursuit as it entered the
flow of traffic on the main road. She easily accelerated her running speed and navigated her way
among the vehicles on the road gaining upon it. At the first intersection the unmarked van made
its first indication that it was aware of her, it ignored the traffic signal, and jumped the light. All
the other vehicles on the road suddenly stopped, their engines systematically shutoff. The
unmarked van was unaffected by the emergency traffic shutdown. It instead weaved through the
stopped vehicles making its escape. A flying police drone was instantly activated joining the
chase as it took snapshots of the van while over a bullhorn system ordered the van to halt.
At the next intersection a second car that was also unaffected by the emergency traffic
shutdown, barreled into the fleeing van. Both vehicles came to an abrupt stop. A bit dazed
Woody emerged from the driver's side of the car just as Belle caught up. She immediately ripped
the rear hatch off the van, pulling Bête out. Woody, weapon drawn, approached the driver's side
of the unmarked van finding it unoccupied. He walked around to Belle. "What happened?"
She seemed unaware of his question as she just held the limp Bête in her arms. She tried
to get Bête to respond to her.
"Belle, what happened?" Woody holstered his sidearm.
She looked up at Woody, her face filled with worry and fear. "It seems they hacked into
one of our domestic robots. I think they used a direct magnetic pulse to deactivate his processor."
Woody knelt down to her as she held Bête even tighter. The police drone still hovered
above them lighting the scene of the collision as police vehicles and an ambulance approached.
He put a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be alright. You are both made of tougher stuff."

They had to close the restaurant for that weekend. Bête was flown, with Woody, to MIT's
secret military robotics research facility. Woody promised Belle he would see that the best
people worked on rebooting Bête's system. He promised her that he would have Bête back to her,
fully functional. It was a long weekend for Belle and Veronica as they waited for Woody to
return with Bête. Not knowing what to do, too depressed and concerned to enjoy anything, they
spent their time cleaning and re-cleaning the kitchen and dining room.
It was not until late Sunday night that Woody returned with Bête. Belle and Veronica
both rushed Bête at the front door kissing him and hugging him. Bête looked as if nothing had
happened to him. Hugging and kissing him they both felt something peculiar, something cold,
and indifferent. They let go their embraces of him and pulled back uneasily.
"Bête?"
"Yes, Belle?" Bête answered.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
"I am at one-hundred percent peak performance. All my systems are completely
operational." he dryly answered.
Belle and Veronica both looked to Woody. His face was filled with remorse. "The reboot,
brought back all his systems, accept his A.S."
"What?" Veronica's face turned from confusion to anguish.
"They rebooted his system half a dozen times with his original files. They do not
understand why the A.S. did not activate. Mechanically and software wise, he is completely the
same as before the incident." Woody tried to console them both. "They did, and tried everything
they could." He took Belle's hands into to his "I am so sorry, Belle."

She just stood there, looking at the machine that was once the man she loved. There was
no more love in his eyes. They were merely the alert eyes of an advanced machine. She turned to
Woody "I want the reboot too."
Veronica's heart dropped "Belle, what are you saying?"
Belle turned to Veronica. "I cannot continue on without him. I don't want to continue on
without his love."
Veronica began to cry "What of my love for you, Belle? I don't want to lose you both."
Belle took Veronica in her arms and held her close to her bosom as the young woman
sobbed loudly. Belle could feel the wetness of Veronica's tears on her blouse. "I cannot feel him
inside me anymore. The connection is broken."
"Belle, I understand how you feel." Woody placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"But you still have others that love you and need you, as you."
Veronica looked up at her, her eyes and nose a runny mess from her crying "Belle, do you
care for me? After my parents died in the war, and my grandfather passed away. You and Bête
are the only family I have."
"Of course I do." Belle looked at Veronica, she wanted to cry too, but was physically
unable to.
"Then promise me, you will not do the reboot." Veronica sobbed.
Belle looked to the machine that was once her Bête. It was clearly unmoved by the
emotions expressed before it. Belle looked back at the tearing, sniffling face of the young woman
she and Bête, in all practical ways, had adopted as their daughter. She could see in Veronica's
eyes the love that was missing in Bête's. "I promise."
- The End -

A.S.

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