Authors: Rachael Eyre
“If they get sick of adverts they could use me as a grill.”
They carried on walking hand in hand. No one could see them properly so it looked perfectly legal.
“I don’t recognise any of this -”
A blast of salt air hit them in the face. Alfred had to stop Josh from toppling headfirst over a pair of iron bars. Squinting past the rain, he felt a stir of memory.
“It’s the Shingle. Come on.”
“Are we allowed?” Josh asked as they squeezed past a series of fences.
“I don’t see anyone stopping us, do you?”
Josh hadn’t walked upon shingle before and found it hard going. It shifted beneath his feet; now it was Alfred’s turn to snatch at his hand.
“Look at this junk. You’d expect them to tidy it up ... What are
those
?”
You couldn’t blame him: if you were watching your feet, you wouldn’t be looking for shapes on the skyline. Monsters poised to spring, jaws and claws chiselled down to gleaming bone.
“Ten years ago Jerry wanted to open a House of Curiosities,” Alfred said. “He set me the task of rounding up the twelve most dangerous creatures in the world. Gwyn didn’t live with me, I had no responsibilities. I was an idiot. I thought there was nothing I couldn’t handle.”
He shivered. Josh took his hand and blew on it.
“Do you want to sit down? There’s a shell - it looks comfy.”
It looked like the conches in gift shops, only fifty times the usual size. Lying hip to hip, they were sheltered from wind and wet.
“Just as he was going to put it to the Council, the Gaskell factory went bust. It was the second biggest employer in Lux, manufacturing tinned meats. A thousand people were out of work. Feeling was running high. They expected him to shelve the plans, put something in place for the workers. He was deaf to protest.
The House had been open four months and it was haemorrhaging money. A group of the factory workers went down one night and set it on fire, releasing the animals.”
“They let all those dangerous animals out?”
“Jerry had lied about everything else. I’d caught them, I knew what they were like, but the stories sounded like so much flannel.
It was carnage. The Council dragged Jerry out of bed and ordered him to take charge. I was asked to dispose of the animals. The fire blazed out of control, those things were prowling the suburbs ... Ten people were killed, twenty injured. A little girl was mauled past recognition; I pulled the creature off her. It wouldn’t let go of me. Then -”
“What?”
“Nothing.” It sounded deranged to say Gussy had lifted him to safety. She had been dead for five years. “It was the last time I did anything for Jerry.”
They sat in silence, holding hands. Alfred didn’t want to stir, but he could tell that Josh had a question brewing, and it wasn’t going to be easy to answer.
“Humans have a lifetime of memories. How do you know which to keep?”
“It’s whatever means the most to you. You associate memories with people and places you love.”
“Alright.” Josh’s hand was hot against Alfred’s, his breath unsteady. “The Centre’s always been there. My first memory must be when I saw Chimera. I didn’t expect it to be so big. Then you were rude -”
“Abominably rude,” Alfred cringed.
“ - and charged me into the sink.”
“Will you ever let me forget that?”
“You were sweet afterwards. Asking if I wanted to travel with you, our adventures ... I hardly remember my wedding, isn’t that odd?”
Alfred felt distinctly uncomfortable. Was it the thigh against his? The green eyes glinting? When he gathered up the courage to look at Josh, he was confronted with such adoration he was embarrassed.
“The only thing that stands out is you kissing me. Whenever I see a maple tree -”
The time was now. It couldn’t be dismissed as a blip in his programming.“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you -?”
“In love with you? Yes.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you still love me. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t.”
“Have you thought about this? What I’m trying to say, badly, is: do you understand?”
“I know my own mind.”
“What about Claire?”
“I doubt she cares.”
“You know how I feel. But it’s got to be what
you
want. Don’t do it out of pity, or some misguided -”
“I mean it too,” Josh said huskily.
He kissed him. Alfred had worried that it’d be different, the chemistry would have gone, but he had nothing to fear. It was ardent and messy and
real.
His tongue slipped into Josh’s mouth and the artificial gave a little start. “Oh,” he gasped. “I remember.”
“Too right.”
They reached for one another and tumbled backwards. Alfred’s hands found Josh’s hair, Josh found his nape, and they pressed together.
“You feel like you’re burning up -”
“Never better.” He ran his tongue along Alfred’s throat; he retaliated with the skin beneath Josh’s ear. They bumped foreheads.
“Still no coordination.”
“We can work on it.”
There was something so lewd about
Josh
making the moves. Straddling him, stroking him, sucking his neck. When he took off his shirt and sat on top of his cock, Alfred thought he would faint. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“Let me see you.” Josh tugged at his buttons, losing two. Alfred turned away as he heard the familiar intake of breath.
“I suppose you want me to put it back on.”
Once he’d had a body he’d been proud of. Now he couldn’t look at himself without shuddering. His torso was a patchwork of scars, starting from his collarbone and slashing to his navel. Some were faint lines, others ugly gouges. It was why, before Josh, he hadn’t had a relationship in years - nobody wanted to make love to a scarecrow.
“Of course I don’t.” Josh kissed them with no sign of disgust.
“You’re not being kind? You don’t think I’ve been ravished by a woodpecker?”
“Lucky woodpecker.”
Being Josh, he had to know how each one was made. The scars caused by the bomb he already knew. Alfred was happy discussing the arrow in his face, the spear through his shoulder, the bullet wounds and lash marks, but when it came to the two vertical lines running down his face, he shivered.
“If they don’t make people run away, they attract nutters. One man didn’t do anything to me, just slobbered and groped himself.”
“What a weirdo,” Josh said. Their eyes met. They couldn’t stop laughing.
They spent an instructive hour kissing, touching and holding each other.
“There’s something I want to do.” Josh hid his blush against Alfred’s chest. “If you don’t mind.”
“What?”
He flicked his eyes downwards. Alfred swallowed. “Oh. Well.”
He ran his hands over Josh’s chest. The artificial shivered, his nipples rising. He went lower. “Whoa. Where’ve you been hiding this?”
“Is it bad?” Josh asked anxiously.
“Quite the reverse.”
It might have graced a statue. It was one of the most generous Alfred had seen, and he was a connoisseur. A bead glistened on the end. He resisted the temptation to lick it off.
Slow stealthy stroking, quickening with Josh’s responses. There are few things as stimulating as arousing somebody else. The beautiful face was inches away, his body trembling.
“Let me do it to you.” Josh reached inside. “You’re so hard!”
“That’s the effect you have on me. Though -” as Josh gripped him - “go slowly, or I might not last.”
Flickering in Josh’s hand. There was only now, the artificial’s breath on his cheek, their bodies moving together. That pleasure a hair’s breadth from pain, building until you can’t stand it. They kissed roughly, only breaking apart for Josh to bite his nipple. He knew that impulse: being so wound up you don’t know what to do with your body.
Blessed, aching release. Josh covered him in kisses.
“You’re freezing. Why didn’t you say?”
“You were keeping me warm. We should go back.” Alfred pulled on his shirt and jacket. “Will I disgrace you?”
“You look gorgeous.”
“Not true, but thanks.”
“What time do you have to be at the Forum?”
“Not till eleven.”
“Ten hours to kill. Well -” Josh knelt, gazing up at him. “Alfred Wilding, will you go to bed with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Josh rubbed against his beard. “Once you’re there, what will you do?”
“I’ll lay you down and kiss you all over. I’ll come inside you again and again.”
“Ohh,” he sighed. “Take me home.”
“Are you sure? I’m staying at an inn -”
“Alfred.” Josh wagged a finger. “It’s my first proper time with the person I love. I want to be in my own home with my own things around me.”
They walked to the city centre and flagged down a fly. Josh’s hand found Alfred’s in the dark of the cab. He felt feverish to touch.
The fly hit the pavement outside Josh’s apartment building. As they paid and dismounted, Josh cried out. “Claire’s home.”
“How can you tell?”
“She’s angry.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“I’m not having you dragged into this. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Alfred wondered by which definition sneaking into somebody’s house to have sex with their husband constituted ‘nothing wrong’. Robots had such peculiar logic.
“I’m sorry,” Josh whispered. “This is my fault.”
“It’s nobody’s fault.”
“If she starts screaming -”
“I’m big and ugly enough to fight my own battles.”
The door whirred open. One of the books from earlier was on the table, a mug of coffee growing cold. As Alfred was saying, “I don’t see her,” the china cabinet flew open and Claire leapt out. Josh’s hand sought Alfred’s. She didn’t miss this, or that his flies were open. “Caught in the act.”
“I don’t have time -” Josh began.
“Where’ve you been?”
“We went to the Winter Gala with Gwyn and Nanny.”
“A likely story.” Everything about her was chilly, varnished: ludicrously straight hair, pinafore dress, brittle smile.
“Ask them.”
Alfred caught sight of their faces in the mirror. There was no way they could disguise what they had been doing. He’d never seen Josh look so flushed and dishevelled. Not only was his hair sticking up in some places and flat in others, the beginnings of a love bite bloomed at his throat. As for him, he was wearing a disgusting silken smirk he couldn’t wipe off.
“Linford says you’ve been cosy,” Claire accused.
Alfred had his speech prepared.“I’ve been looking in because of Josh’s upgrade -”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I asked you to leave him alone. Instead you’re carryin’ on your sordid little affair -”
“It wasn’t sordid,” Josh said.
“You admit it?”
“It wasn’t an affair,” Alfred said. “We’ve never gone past kissing -”
“And hand jobs,” Josh pointed out. “We went together twice, but that’s before I met you.”
Claire looked as though she was going to retch. “If you won’t tell the truth, I know who will.” She marched to the window. “Kevin!”
A flurry in the bushes. “Hello, Ms Howey.”
“Is my husband boffin’ Lord Langton?”
“I don’t have pictorial evidence, but they’ve been very cuddly.”
However spacious the flat was, they couldn’t put enough distance between themselves and Claire. “Well?” she demanded. “
Well?
”
Josh leant against the sofa, a hand to his forehead. “I can’t bear this anymore.”
“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said.”
“I can’t bear
this
.” He gestured to the cabinet, the paperback on the table. “I’m sick of pretending.”
“It’s real to me.” She brought down their wedding portrait. “Are you saying this means nothin’?”
Josh laid it aside, an action so dismissive it was worse than if he’d smashed it. Alfred shadowed him, not trusting the tightness around Claire’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, Claire. Everyone said love grew with time.” His eyes flicked to Alfred. “It’s always been him. Believe me -”
She went for his face, ripping the skin above his eyebrow. She started in terror. A flap of skin had torn away, revealing platinum. No nose, no lips. Only the eyes were familiar. She couldn’t stop screaming.
Alfred crouched down where Josh had slid to the carpet.“Don’t look,” the artificial whispered.
“Stop that. We’ll get you to Sugar, have you cleaned up.” Alfred kissed the exposed metal.
Soon afterwards they left. Alfred practically carried Josh, having to stop every few steps. As they limped down the drive, the window scrolled open and a pair of shoes landed on the grass. It was followed by a suit, then a rack full of shirts and ties.