was evidently turned on when I had sex with another man in his presence, as many men in my memory banks are, and I was always glad to have his attention.
Then we resumed hitchhiking.
The next car that stopped was driven by a lone woman. Banner was clearly surprised. “Women don't usually pick up hitchhikers; some of them are rapists.”
But a ride was a ride, and we got in. “Now I'm not saying anything directly,” the woman said as she got into traffic. “But there was a notice on the police radio about two hitchhikers answering your description. Seem's one is a female robot the man has stolen, a valuable property. I remembered a news item about six weeks ago about a realistic humanoid robot. So I picked you up.”
We did not say anything. We didn't dare.
“Now I'm a feminist,” she continued. “I believe in women's rights. Including minority women. Including robot women. They all deserve their chance. In fact I argue law on their behalf. So I picked you up to make sure no one else did. I'll drop you off where they aren't looking. I hope that when you get where you're going, you'll remember that there are those who support you. Not that I'm implying anything.”
“Thank you,” I said faintly. Then: “I don't think he stole her. I think she went willingly. Because she loves him and wants to marry him.”
“A robot? That is surely an interesting philosophical question.”
“I think she's conscious,” I said. “That's why they want her. To take her apart. That would kill her.”
The woman glanced briefly at me. “I'll be damned.”
“Not that anyone knows,” Banner said.
“No one knows,” she agreed.
She brought us to at a busy intersection and came to a stop beside it. “Any direction from here should be okay, for now. No one else can know what road you take. Best luck.”
“Thank you,” I said. Then I leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.
“I'll be damned,” she repeated. Then she had an afterthought. “Let me give you my card. Just in case I can ever be of service to you.” She gave it to me. Then she drove off, leaving us to our own devices. We knew she could have turned us in, but had chosen to help us instead.
I looked at the card. It said MAXINE STALWART—ATTORNEY.
“She's a lawyer!” Banner said. “That must be why she listens in on police broadcasts.”
“I like her,” I said.
Banner paused. “I wonder what her real interest is.”
“I doubt she's looking for sex,” I said, smiling.
“A lawyer. That gives me a crazy idea. You know we can't hide forever; they're bound to catch us sooner or later. Then we'll be finished.”
“Yes,” I agreed forlornly. I was discovering that not all the feelings of awareness were positive.
“Suppose you sue for personhood?”
“You have just stepped beyond my memory bank,” I said.
“To become a legal person. Corporations are legal persons; why not a conscious fembot?”
“Why should I want to do that?”
“Legal persons have rights. Such as marrying. Not being subject to slavery. Not being involuntarily taken apart.”
“I'm not a slave. I'm a machine!”
“You are a woman,” he said firmly. “Let's call her and ask.”
“Maybe we should,” I agreed. “Certainly if I sue, we'll need her advice.”
Banner took the card and called on his cell phone. “This is our official first contact,” he said, covering for our prior dialogue with Ms. Stalwart. “A company is after my fiancee. They want to take her apart, literally, to see what makes her tick. Can that be stopped?”
There was a brief silence. I imagined her saying “Are you serious? Of course a person can't be taken apart.”
“Even if she's a humanoid robot?”
Another pause. Then Banner described the intersection where we were, as if she didn't know. Soon her car reappeared, and we got in.
Then, before she resumed driving, I did my panel demonstration, eliminating all doubt. “I am a conscious femdroid,” I said. “They want to disassemble
Then we resumed hitchhiking.
The next car that stopped was driven by a lone woman. Banner was clearly surprised. “Women don't usually pick up hitchhikers; some of them are rapists.”
But a ride was a ride, and we got in. “Now I'm not saying anything directly,” the woman said as she got into traffic. “But there was a notice on the police radio about two hitchhikers answering your description. Seem's one is a female robot the man has stolen, a valuable property. I remembered a news item about six weeks ago about a realistic humanoid robot. So I picked you up.”
We did not say anything. We didn't dare.
“Now I'm a feminist,” she continued. “I believe in women's rights. Including minority women. Including robot women. They all deserve their chance. In fact I argue law on their behalf. So I picked you up to make sure no one else did. I'll drop you off where they aren't looking. I hope that when you get where you're going, you'll remember that there are those who support you. Not that I'm implying anything.”
“Thank you,” I said faintly. Then: “I don't think he stole her. I think she went willingly. Because she loves him and wants to marry him.”
“A robot? That is surely an interesting philosophical question.”
“I think she's conscious,” I said. “That's why they want her. To take her apart. That would kill her.”
The woman glanced briefly at me. “I'll be damned.”
“Not that anyone knows,” Banner said.
“No one knows,” she agreed.
She brought us to at a busy intersection and came to a stop beside it. “Any direction from here should be okay, for now. No one else can know what road you take. Best luck.”
“Thank you,” I said. Then I leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.
“I'll be damned,” she repeated. Then she had an afterthought. “Let me give you my card. Just in case I can ever be of service to you.” She gave it to me. Then she drove off, leaving us to our own devices. We knew she could have turned us in, but had chosen to help us instead.
I looked at the card. It said MAXINE STALWART—ATTORNEY.
“She's a lawyer!” Banner said. “That must be why she listens in on police broadcasts.”
“I like her,” I said.
Banner paused. “I wonder what her real interest is.”
“I doubt she's looking for sex,” I said, smiling.
“A lawyer. That gives me a crazy idea. You know we can't hide forever; they're bound to catch us sooner or later. Then we'll be finished.”
“Yes,” I agreed forlornly. I was discovering that not all the feelings of awareness were positive.
“Suppose you sue for personhood?”
“You have just stepped beyond my memory bank,” I said.
“To become a legal person. Corporations are legal persons; why not a conscious fembot?”
“Why should I want to do that?”
“Legal persons have rights. Such as marrying. Not being subject to slavery. Not being involuntarily taken apart.”
“I'm not a slave. I'm a machine!”
“You are a woman,” he said firmly. “Let's call her and ask.”
“Maybe we should,” I agreed. “Certainly if I sue, we'll need her advice.”
Banner took the card and called on his cell phone. “This is our official first contact,” he said, covering for our prior dialogue with Ms. Stalwart. “A company is after my fiancee. They want to take her apart, literally, to see what makes her tick. Can that be stopped?”
There was a brief silence. I imagined her saying “Are you serious? Of course a person can't be taken apart.”
“Even if she's a humanoid robot?”
Another pause. Then Banner described the intersection where we were, as if she didn't know. Soon her car reappeared, and we got in.
Then, before she resumed driving, I did my panel demonstration, eliminating all doubt. “I am a conscious femdroid,” I said. “They want to disassemble
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