Part 74 (2/2)

”I do not wish to be wiped,” Dolly said. ”If I stand trial, will I go to jail?”

”If a court will hear it,” Roz said. ”Yes. You will probably go to jail. Or be disa.s.sembled. Alternately, my partner and I are prepared to release you on grounds of self-defense.”

”In that case,” Dolly said, ”the law states that I am the property of Venus Consolidated.”

”The law does.”

Roz waited. Dolly, who was not supposed to be programmed to play psychological pressure-games, waited also-peaceful, unblinking.

No longer making the attempt to pa.s.s for human.

Roz said, ”There is a fourth alternative. You could confess.”

Dolly's entire programmed purpose was reading the emotional state and unspoken intentions of people. Her lips curved in understanding. ”What happens if I confess?”

Roz's heart beat faster. ”Do you wish to?”

”Will it benefit me?”

”It might,” Roz said. ”Detective King has been in touch with the DA, and she likes a good media event as much as the next guy. Make no mistake, this will be that.”

”I understand.”

”The situation you were placed in by Mr. Steele could be a basis for a lenience. You would not have to face a jury trial, and a judge might be convinced to treat you as ... well, as a person. Also, a confession might be seen as evidence of contrition. Possession is oversold, you know. It's precedent that's nine tenths of the law. There are, of course, risks-”

”I would like to request a lawyer,” Dolly said.

Roz took a breath that might change the world. ”We'll proceed as if that were your legal right, then.”

Roz's house let her in with her key, and the smell of roasted sausage and baking potatoes wafted past.

”Sven?” she called, locking herself inside.

His even voice responded. ”I'm in the kitchen.”

She left her shoes in the hall and followed her nose through the cheaply furnished living room, as different from Steele's white wasteland as anything bounded by four walls could be. Her feet did not sink deeply into this carpet, but skipped along atop it like stones.

It was clean, though, and that was Sven's doing. And she was not coming home to an empty house, and that was his doing too.

He was cooking s.h.i.+rtless. He turned and greeted her with a smile. ”Bad day?”

”n.o.body died,” she said. ”Yet.”

He put the wooden spoon down on the rest. ”How does that make you feel, that n.o.body has died yet?”

”Hopeful,” she said.

”It's good that you're hopeful,” he said. ”Would you like your dinner?”

”Do you like music, Sven?”

”I could put on some music, if you like. What do you want to hear?”

”Anything.” It would be something off her favorites playlist, chosen by random numbers. As it swelled in the background, Sven picked up the spoon. ”Sven?”

”Yes, Rosamund?”

”Put the spoon down, please, and come and dance with me?”

”I do not know how to dance.”

”I'll buy you a program,” she said. ”If you'd like that. But right now just come put your arms around me and pretend.”

”Whatever you want,” he said.

G.o.ds of the Forge SMASH TO:.

SCENE I:.

INT: A TRENDY NIGHTCLUB - 1 AM.

Men and women b.u.mp and grind. Loud music thumps and lasers flash, while a smoke machine lends an air of unreality to everything. We follow a young woman through the crowd to the bar. She's pretty, but obviously nervous. She can't catch the bartender's eye. When she finally turns away, frustrated, there's a s.p.a.ce around her: on every side, men and women are talking intently, obviously getting to know one another better.

YOUNG WOMAN'S POV: A couple kisses.

INT: NIGHT CLUB.

Reaction shot off the young woman, who slumps against the bar.

V/O.

Lonely? Lost?

A Beautiful Mind can help!

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SCENE II:.

INT: THE TRENDY NIGHTCLUB - 1 AM.

The same young woman walks up to the bar. This time, she strides with confidence, and every eye turns to follow her.

SMASH TO:.

t.i.tLE CARD.

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