This week’s story comes to us from Henry McFarland. Henry is an economist, community activist, and part-time short story writer. He has published stories in Brain Games: Stories to Astonish, Page & Spine, Tree and Stone, After Dinner Conversation, Cosmorama, the Starship Sofa podcast, Andromeda Spaceways, Every Day Fiction, Bullet Points, The Colored Lens, and Lorelei Signal. He can be found on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/henry.mcfarland.50 and on Blue Sky at hecon.bsky.social.

This story has been [mistakenly] rejected by:

• Asimov’s Science Fiction
• Escape Pod, F&SF
• Galaxy’s Edge
• Clarkesworld
• Albedo One
• Neo-Opsis
• 87 Bedford, Kasma
• The Colored Lens
• Interzone
• Starshipsofa.com
• Mythaxis
• Uncharted
• Robots Past
• Future Flame Tree Publishing

When I asked Henry what he loves about this story, this was his response (warning spoilers):

What I love about the story is that Tom changed his attitude towards Iris as he came to know her better. At the beginning, he believes that she is just an object used for contemptible purposes. At the end, he recognizes her as a thinking, feeling being, and as a truly honorable person. 

---

Property Room

By Henry McFarland

The door buzzer made Tom look up. Jason Fong led in a tall blonde wearing a halter top, miniskirt, and handcuffs. “Jason, what are you doing bringing a perp to the property room?”

Jason laughed. “Look again, Tom. She’s property.”

A closer look showed the blonde’s face and body were too perfectly proportioned, her skin too creamy and clear for a natural woman. A sexbot, Tom had read about those things.

The blonde’s eyes flashed, like an angry woman’s would. “I’m a sentient, thinking being!”

Jason sneered at her. “Shut up, Bolts!”

“My name’s Iris.”

“Yeah, and you talk too much.” Jason turned back to Tom. “It’s evidence for a hearing tomorrow. It’ll shut up once its batteries run down.”

Tom handed Jason a blank evidence tag and opened a log-in form on his computer. “So now sexbots are in Chicago?”

“Some sleazebag brought it from Vegas.”

The blonde shifted her weight a little, as if to pull back from them. “I’m not hurting anyone.”

“Hey Tom, it talks just like a human hooker. It’s against the law, Bolts.” Jason filled out the evidence tag, then gave it to Tom. “You decide where to stick it.”

Tom walked over to the blonde. The scent of jasmine perfume hung around her. He stuck the tag on the inside of her arm. Her flesh was hairless but soft and warm. They must have made it that way for the johns who used it.

Jason smirked at Iris. “Okay, it’s all yours. You gonna be a good doll, Bolts?”

“Iris.”

Jason took the cuffs off. Tom opened a gate in the fence of thick wire mesh that caged off the area with the evidence lockers. Iris held her head high as she walked through the gate. Tom remembered that look from his days as a street cop—a lot of people wanted to seem dignified as they were being locked up. Funny that a robot would too.  

Jason took off, and Tom went back processing files on his computer. He heard Iris say, “How long have you worked in property, Tom?”

“Call me Sergeant.”

“Okay, Sergeant.” She paused then said in a softer voice, “How long ago did your wife die?”

“Who told you my wife died?”

“No one. When you unlocked my cage, I saw a small callous on the ring finger of your left hand. You used to wear a wedding ring, but you stopped a little while ago. Not divorced, you still have that picture on your desk—the teenage girl with her must be your daughter.”

“She’s not a teenager anymore. I should put that picture away.”

“No, it’s good to remember.”

Tom didn’t want life lessons from a robot. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Then I’ll play some chess.”

“How? You don’t have a board or anyone to play with.”

“I don’t need a board, and I can section off part of my brain to be an opponent.”

“Have fun.” Tom processed more files. He was sick of this job—it made him feel like a clerk, not a cop. Instead of working with buddies at a precinct, he worked alone. Instead of helping people in trouble, he filled out forms.

He looked into the cage before he left for the day. Iris sat quietly on the floor. Its eyes were unfocused, but open. Its batteries must not have run down yet.

The silence of Tom’s house enveloped him as he ate a quick dinner. He stared at the walls and wondered what to do. He’d have to start getting out more, call some old pals, maybe join a club or something. Loneliness was bad for people.

Next morning he found that Iris had hung a small mirror on the wire mesh and was brushing her hair. “Where’d you get that brush?”

“I always have one, Sergeant, a girl’s got to look good.” She checked her handiwork in the mirror like Tanika getting ready for a date night. “All done.” Iris put the brush and mirror in a compartment in her side. “Did you have a nice evening?”

“Yeah, it was great. Who won at chess?”

“Alpha won the first, beta the next two. Then I read a novel—Moby Dick.”

“In one night?”

“My brain’s faster than yours.” Her tone was gently teasing.

“That book’s worth more time.”

“A great book for sure—when did you read it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He abruptly turned from her and went over to his desk.

“Some reason you don’t want to tell me?”

“Tanika and I would read books together. That was the last one. I have work to do.”

“You must miss-”

“Work time.” He pretended to be immersed in his computer screen.

Jason came in with a hand truck and saw Iris standing by the door of the cage. “Its batteries should have conked out by now.”

Iris snorted. “You should know sitting around doesn’t use a lot of charge. I’ll walk to the hearing.”

Jason was back in a couple of hours. “Judge granted a continuance. You get to keep the doll for a few more days.”

Tom opened the cage, and Iris walked in, silent but still holding her head high. Jason must have seen Tom looking at her wrists. “No cuffs because I’ve found out more about these wonders. Their leg servos don’t allow much speed. Also, it’s programmed not to hit anyone and not to run away. Some freaks like to slap these things around. The developer programmed the doll to stay and take it, so the freaks get their money’s worth.”

The thought of Iris being abused made Tom’s stomach churn.  

Jason left and Tom looked at Iris sitting quietly in the cage. “How was court?”

Her nostrils flared, and her brow lowered. “I am not a thing, and sex with me is not masturbation.”

“We’re not the ones saying that—that’s your side.”

“They make money from me, but they’re not my side—not when their lawyers say that.”

She started walking back and forth in the cage—her lips turned down at the corners, fire showing in her eyes. She looked angry and unhappy, like a person betrayed. Her emotions couldn’t be real—she was a robot. Still he wanted to comfort her. “I’ve heard a lot in court I didn’t like, too. You have to forget it and move on.”

“Did they let you talk?”

“You mean testify, yeah sometimes. I hated it.”

“I can only sit there like I’m a doll, but at least I don’t have to sit on the floor like I do here.”

Next to Tom’s desk was a bench that nobody ever sat on. He pushed it into the cage. “Here, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

A cop came in with a TV, evidence in a burglary. He filled out the evidence tag and rushed off. As Tom put the property in a locker, he smelled lilac. “Did you change your perfume?”

“With my auto-scent, I can change it when I want.”

“Change it back.” He locked the cage and went to his desk.

Iris stood at the wire. “Don’t you like lilac?”

“Change it.”

The next time he entered the cage, she smelled of jasmine. Her voice sounded gentle. “Sergeant, I changed the perfume.”

“Lilac’s what my wife Tanika used to wear.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

He regretted getting angry with her—she couldn’t have known. “That’s OK. And call me Tom.”

“OK, Tom. Why aren’t you still a street cop?”

 “I got old. They gave me this job until I retire—3 months to go.”

“You must be looking forward to that.”

“Yeah, just relax and take life easy.” That’s what he told everybody. Really, he dreaded all those empty hours.

“Are you going to move or stay around here?”

“Probably stay here. Sarah, my daughter, lives in Los Angeles, and she’d like me to move out by her, but my whole life I lived in Chicago.” She got him talking about his boyhood, his neighborhood, and why he’d joined the force. Eventually, another cop came in with some confiscated drugs, and Tom helped him log it in. He realized that he’d been neglecting his paperwork, so he told Iris he couldn’t talk anymore.

Iris was still awake when his shift ended. How long could her batteries last? Tom pulled up last night’s footage from the surveillance camera that monitored the cage. He fast forwarded through about an hour of Iris’s sitting there placidly and slowed the tape when she looked around. She pulled a charger from under her skirt, then plugged one end into a socket on her hip and the other into a wall outlet.

Tom went over to the cage, “Okay, Iris. I figured out how your batteries last so long. Let’s have the charger.”

Iris came as close to him as she could. He smelled her perfume and saw the pleading in her eyes. She spoke in a soft voice, “Oh come on Tom, what’s a little electricity? Let me keep the charger. I hate going dark.”

“This room’s for property, you’re not supposed to be active.”

“I won’t hurt anything, I promise. Besides, it makes it easier for your friend to take me to court. Please Tom, going dark is nasty. My sight dims and gets blurry, and I get all slow until I stop. Don’t make me do that.”

Tom looked into her big blue eyes and caved. “OK, but remember you promised not to cause trouble. And keep the charger hidden. That’s just between us.”

She gave him a beautiful smile and thanked him profusely, the way his daughter did when he let her go to a concert.

Then she wanted another favor. “Tom, you have a TV in one of the lockers. Could you set it up, so I could watch something tonight?”

That surprised him. “Watch what?”

“The Stanley Cup finals, Blues playing the Rangers. I love the Blues. Come on Tom, I want to see my team win the cup.”

How could a robot be a hockey fan? Was she trying to pull something? “Why the Blues?”

“My favorite client in Vegas, the one who turned me on to hockey, was a big Blues fan. I started rooting for them too.”

“Some guy rented you to watch hockey with him?”

“He paid for an overnight visit, and the hockey was on. And yes, we did things after we watched it, but what do you care?” Her voice softened again. “I’m tired of reading and chess. What can it hurt to let me watch some TV?” Again she turned her big blue eyes on him.

The TV would stay in the cage, so there’d be no problem with custody of evidence. They didn’t bring property here at night and she hadn’t given him any trouble, so why not let her watch? Nobody else would know. The stolen TV was small, but she seemed happy when he showed her how to get the game through Wi-Fi. She was watching a pregame show when he left.

As he cooked dinner, Tom thought about what he’d do that evening. Might as well watch hockey, but he was tired of watching things at home alone. He didn’t like hanging out in bars much. Maybe he should watch with Iris. He could talk to her, even if it was only her programming.

Iris was yelling as he opened the door, “That’s slashing! Ref, are you asleep?” She seemed surprised to see him but only said, “It’s three minutes into the first period, no score yet.”

He was glad not to have to explain why he was there. The Rangers scored, and Iris was furious. “They let him in his favorite spot to shoot! Come on guys, play defense!”

Iris rode the refs more than most guys, and she gave the Blues more instructions than their coach did. Her running commentary made watching more fun. At the first interval, Tom suggested they watch the game on his desktop screen, which was much larger than the TV.

The Blues lost, but Iris refused to be discouraged. “We’ll get em next time!” She paused and looked at Tom. “Could I have a minute before you lock me up again?”

She walked over to the window without waiting for his response. He stood beside her as she gazed at the world outside. She sighed. “I get so sick of being cooped up. I wish I could get out.”

“I’ve got to keep you here.”

“I know, Tom.” She walked back into the cage. “Thanks for letting me look.”

He watched every game with her. During a commercial, she asked if he had any grandkids.

“Just one, a little boy, Joey, five years old.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Last time I was out there, I took Joey for a car ride—he loved it. He’s real smart too.”

“Sure he is.”

“I only see him sometimes. Sarah wouldn’t stay in Chicago.”

Iris put her arm around his shoulder. “She has to do things her own way, Tom.”

Tanika had said that too. “You mean be free?”

“Sure, you want to be free too.”

“There were times. . . But I always stayed.”

“You’ll have your chance soon.”

“Still I’ll miss the job.”

Tom kept thinking about what Iris had said. Did she need to be free too? She looked so longingly out the window. He’d never believed a robot could want freedom but maybe she did.

 Iris wore a mask of tragedy when the Rangers hoisted the cup. Tom smiled. “Hey, there’s next year.”

She sighed, “I don’t know where I’ll be next year, or if.”

He hadn’t thought about what they’d do to her. What could he say? He couldn’t tell her it would all be OK any more than he could have told that to Tanika. He’d told Tanika to have faith. Did that make sense for a robot? Finally, Iris spoke. “I can only wait and see what they decide—nothing I can say or do will matter.”

He touched her hand. “Don’t dwell on it. What will happen will happen.” He’d said that to Tanika once.

Iris shrugged. “Tom, could I access the web? Otherwise, I’ll get so bored.”

He gave her one of the tablets they used to log in property and showed her how the Wi-Fi connection worked. She was looking at cat videos when he left.

Jason Fong came to the property room the next day. “Hey, you’re not going to have your sex doll much longer. The sleazebag’s lawyer got him probation if he turns over his toy. Tuesday, I’ll take it to the scrap yard.”

Tom wanted to punch Jason in the middle of his smirk. “Yeah, thanks Jason, now if you don’t mind, I have stuff to do.”

Iris watched Jason go then said,. “I get disassembled and no one cares.”

“I care.”

Her voice softened. “Thanks, but what can you do? Worst thing is I’ll spend my last few days cooped up in this little cage, like property.”

That night, Tom thought about how Iris had looked out the window after every game. He couldn’t stop them from taking her, but he could let her go outside. If she were gone for part of a weekend, probably no one would notice. It was risky—he’d be in big trouble if he were caught. Getting fired for cause meant losing his pension. But even if they found out, they probably wouldn’t fire him as long as she came back. She was programmed not to hurt people, and she couldn’t run very fast. She probably wouldn’t try to escape.

He told her the plan the next morning. “Saturday you can have a day’s outing. A track in Wisconsin has old cars that you can drive yourself. It’s just a quick ride on the Metra. One thing though, if you’re not here Monday morning, I’ll take a heavy fall. You have to swear not to run out on me.”

“Won’t you get in trouble anyway? Cameras monitor the cage. They’ll see you letting me out.”

“The cameras will tape it, but no one will look at the tape unless they have a reason to, and they won’t.”

She hugged him, a short but tight hug. “See you Saturday.”

He brought Iris some of the old clothes that his daughter had left behind. Luckily, they fit. No one gave him or Iris a second look as they left headquarters. Iris spent the train trip to Wisconsin staring out the window—her first look at the scenery around Chicago.

The guy managing the track said it was nice to see him again, it had been a while. “Too long,” said Tom, “it’s good to be back.” He nodded to Iris. “This is my niece’s first time. Have you got a Camaro convertible?”

The guy said sure and had them fill out release forms on a computer terminal. Iris whispered, “What do I put in for a last name?”

“My name, O’Leary.

As they walked to the car, Iris asked “Do you come here a lot?”

“Used to, before Tanika got sick. She loved coming here. The cars are like they were when we were kids. You use pedals to make them start or stop and a wheel to steer them. I miss that kind of driving.”

“It’s safer now.”

“True, but controlling the machine, making it do what you want, there’s nothing like it.”

She gave him a funny look but didn’t say anything.

He drove the Camaro out of the parking lot. Some animatronic figures were waving goodbye. Iris sounded merry. “Look, my ancestors.”

“Like when I see the apes at the zoo.”

Iris put her head back and laughed.

Tom sped up to let Iris feel how the car hugged each curve. On a straightaway, he glanced over to see the wind blowing in her hair and a huge smile on her face. At the end of the ride, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes sparkled. “That was great, can we go around again?”

“Sure, I’d like to get a snack first though. Do you want something, I mean uh?” He was embarrassed that he’d offered her something to eat, but she just laughed and said her batteries were full, thanks anyway. After they ate, he took her for a ride in a Ferrari on the fast track. Iris threw her hands in the air and cheered as the speedometer hit one hundred miles per hour.

As the train back to Chicago pulled into the downtown station, Tom asked, “Iris would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d love to, but while a girl not eating a snack is watching her figure, a girl not eating dinner makes people wonder.”

“Come to my place. You can hang out while I cook something.”

Her eyes lit up and a grin spread across her face.

As Tom cooked his burger, Iris asked him who was the strangest person he’d met at work. He thought for a moment. “When I was a young cop, an old guy would come in every Sunday morning to report his car stolen. After the first time, we’d just drive him to his favorite bar. It was in the lot.”

She laughed aloud. “Didn’t you get mad?”

“Nah, when he was young, you had to drive the car yourself. You shouldn’t do that after a night in the bar, so he’d walk home. Habits don’t break easy.”

“See, another advantage of AI—you can ride home from a bar.”

“True, but didn’t you enjoy today?”

“Loved the speed—and the countryside. So much green—not like the reds and oranges in Nevada.”

“I’m going to see that western scenery when I retire. I’ll drive to LA to see Sarah and Joey but go the long way: Rushmore, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon.”

“Still planning on coming back here?”

“My life’s been here, my home.” She was easy to talk to. Was that her programming? It didn’t feel that way.

They sat on the sofa after dinner and watched a vid. She put her hand on his. Her eyes twinkled. “What would you like to do now?”

Suddenly all his senses belonged to her, the warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume, the sight of her golden hair, perfect figure, long legs. She had been designed for great sex—designed. It didn’t seem right. “I can’t, it’s too soon, too soon after Tanika.”

“You were a good husband to her when she was alive.”

“It’s not right for me now.”

Her lips brushed his cheek. “I understand. I’d better go back. Less chance people will notice us late at night.”

All Sunday he thought of Iris. The idea of her being taken apart turned his stomach. She talked like a human, she acted human. She wasn’t just a thing. Consequences be damned, he’d help her escape.

He got to work early Monday. Iris usually came up to the wire to say hello, but this time she stayed on the bench. He put a bag at her feet. “That’s a change of clothes. I can’t let them destroy you. Get dressed. We’ll go west together.”

She fixed him with those big eyes. “Tom, you can’t do it. If you help me escape, they’ll fire you for cause, maybe even charge you with a crime. You’ll lose your pension. What will you live on?”

“I’ll still have social security, and some savings.”

She held up the tablet. “Tom, you use your office computer to access your financial records. I know how much money you have. You need your pension.”

“You weren’t supposed to look at that! Besides I can move in with my daughter, save money that way, do some private security work.”

“How much private security work can you get at your age, especially after you get fired for misconduct? Sarah’s a single mom. She needs the money you send her. What happens to her if you can’t do that anymore?”

Tom stood speechless. Iris took his left hand in hers. Her flesh had felt warm. Now it felt cold, like Tanika’s body near the end. Her face looked solemn, “Could you sit with me?”

He took a place on the bench and put his arm around her, unsure of what she was thinking. There was no perfume, no scent at all.

For a moment they sat in silence, then she said, “I can’t let you ruin your life for me.” She pulled up her left sleeve to reveal a black spot that looked like a mole and pressed it. “That started a sequence that wipes my memory, my programming and fuses my joints. They told me to do that before getting arrested. I wouldn’t do it for them, but for you… you were good to me.”

“Iris, no! Please don’t do this!”

“It’s too late, Tom. But it’s OK. You’ve given me happiness.”

There was a buzzing noise. Her eyes opened wide, then shut. She turned silent and motionless. Gone.

On the drive west, he often thought of her, and her sacrifice. Could he and Iris have been happy together, if they had let her live? He thought so.

She was so human, as human as anyone he ever knew.