Around her Neck

Philomena fidgeted with the locket around her neck. Made of well-polished silver, it showed two round buttons, one red and one blue.

"I know, Maria, I know...but it seems cruel to keep them locked up all the time. Sometimes they feel almost human."

She glanced over at a burly figure in a white jumpsuit that was washing dishes at the kitchen sink. It was working quietly and efficiently, with its shaved head bent down.

Maria furrowed her brow and pursed her lips.

"You're too soft, Philly. You know it's against regulations to leave them out for too long. Y-pods are NOT human. You took the same history classes I did. They're dangerous.”

With a sigh, Philomena shifted her gaze to the floor.

"May...maybe you're right. Larry, are you finished with your work?”

"Yes, madam,” the figure replied in a deep, husky voice.

"Okay, thank you for all your help,” said Philomena gently.

With this, she grabbed the locket around her neck again, and pressed the blue button with her thumb. A blue glow suffused the room, and a blue beam leapt out of the locket toward the figure in white. With a flash, it disappeared.

Maria was glaring now, her blue eyes blazing.

"You NAMED it? And you THANK it? Philly, you're in big trouble," she said.

"But it always does such a good job, and it's never hurt anyone," replied Philomena.

They argued along this line for a few minutes, and then, abruptly, Maria said she had to leave to run some errands. They said their farewells, and Maria exited the apartment through the automatic sliding door at the end of the kitchen.

Alone now, Philomena sat down at her kitchen table. She stared at the wall for a few minutes, deep in thought. Then she quickly snatched the locket up and pressed the red button. A red beam flashed from the locket, and when it was gone, in its place was the figure in white.

It looked at her blankly. "What is my task, madam?"

"Do you want to spend some time with me, Larry? I'm kinda lonely," said Philomena.

"Y-pods are forbidden to want. What is my task?" It said slowly.

"I want you to keep me company, Larry."

"I do not know how to perform this task."

"It's easy. Just sit down and talk with me."

Larry sat down in the chair opposite Philomena.

"What do you want to talk about, madam?"

"Tell me how you're feeling and thinking. I want to get to know you, Larry."

"Y-pods are not permitted to access their feelings manually. Only thoughts related to work are permitted."

"But you have to follow your madam's orders, right? Larry, I order you to access your feelings and describe them to me,” said Philomena.

There was a long pause before either spoke again.

"I feel...I feel...empty." said Larry.

"Well, in order to feel empty, there must be something you're missing, or something you want. Can you access your desires and share them with me?” said Philomena.

Larry’s square-jawed face was frozen in an expression of confusion for half a minute.

“I do not know what desires are,” said Larry finally.

Philomena giggled.

“Yes you do. Desires are when you feel the need for something, like food or water. You know how it feels to be hungry, right?” she asked.

“All my nourishment is provided in confinement.”

She giggled again.

“Okay, well what about when I leave you out for too long, and you have to use the bathroom? You know what that feels like, right?” she asked.

“Yes. I feel a pressure in my abdomen, which signals that it is time to expel waste in the toilet,” said Larry.

“Exactly. Well there are lots of other pressures that signal to us. Desires are like pressures in your brain. Can you feel any pressures in your brain right now?” she asked.

Larry looked down for a moment, then raised his eyes to meet Philomena’s.

“I feel the pressure to give you what you are asking for, but I do not know how,” said Larry.

An exasperated sigh escaped from Philomena, despite her desire to be gentle.

“Oh, okay then. Let’s watch some screen together,” she said with resignation.

---

An hour later, Philomena and Larry were sitting next to each other on a plush orange couch. The wall opposite the couch was glowing with perfectly crisp moving images. The images filled the room with a blue glow, and sound emanated from the four corners of the room, though no speakers were noticeable. Two women on the wall-screen were speaking, facing the viewers. They wore emerald green dresses, black high heels, and copious amounts of makeup. Behind them stood a lineup of masculine figures dressed in white jumpsuits, staring blankly into the distance.

The woman on the left was looking out at Philomena and Larry from the wall

“...These new models are the most helpful yet! All chores done in less than 80% of the time! Except of course for those chores you don’t WANT done quickly.” With this, she winked at the viewers, then turned to the woman on the right. “Right Alicia?”

“That’s right, Jessica!” said the woman on the right with a sly grin. “These are our greatest Y-bods yet. We have them in stock right now, in every size, color, and style! Trade in your old model, and take one of these bad boys home with no payments for six months. Zero credits down!”

Larry shifted his body against the couch and looked down from the wall-screen.

Philomena glanced over at him. There was about three feet between them.

“Is something wrong, Larry?” she asked.

“I…I…” stammered Larry. “Is it still your wish that I share my feelings?”

“Yes, I want you to tell me what you’re feeling,” said Philomena.

Larry repositioned on the couch again.

“I...I do not want to be traded in for a new model, madam,” he said.

Philomena smiled.

“Don’t worry, Larry. I don’t have the credits for a new model anyway. Your job’s safe...for now.” As she finished saying this, she smirked slightly.

Larry’s usually stoic face now showed a hint of concern.

“For now, madam?” said Larry quietly.

“It was a joke, Larry,” she said sweetly. “I’m kinda cold. Will you come put your arm around me and keep me warm?”

“Yes, madam.”

Larry shifted over on the couch and put an arm around Philomena’s shoulder. There was still about six inches between their bodies.

Philomena giggled, and pushed her body into his. She nestled her head into his shoulder, and let out a relaxed sigh.

---

An hour later, Philomena turned off the wall-screen, and turned to Larry.

“Okay Larry, I want bed service. But I want to do something a bit different this time. I don’t want to tell you what to do. I just want you to do what you feel like doing,” she explained.

Larry’s puzzled expression made her smile.

“I don’t know how to do that,” said Larry.

“Just let go,” she said.

Larry removed his arm from her shoulder.

“You do not wish for me to hold you anymore?” he asked.

Philomena snickered and shook her head.

“No, I mean stop thinking about what I want and just act naturally. Pretend you’re just a primitive MAN from the old times, and do what you want with me,” she said.

“I do not know what I want to do with you. I only know how to comply with your wishes,” said Larry.

“Oh geez...okay...maybe I can explain. You know the pressures you feel when I order you to do things to me? Try to let those feelings flow naturally, without my orders. Can you do that?” She said.

“I will try,” said Larry.

---

Later in the night, Philomena and Larry were lying in bed next to each other, both sweaty and breathing heavily.

“Did you have fun, Larry?” asked Philomena.

“Yes, madam. I have never felt this way before,” said Larry.

“Good. It’s against regulations, but I think I like it better this way. It just felt more exciting, you know?”

“Yes, madam. I agree.”

“I’m going to fall asleep soon. I’m sorry, but I need to put you back in confinement now.”

“NO.” For the first time, Larry’s voice carried a resoundingly stern tone. His face was all scowl--it no longer showed any of its typical blank obedience.

Philomena was so stunned that she remained stationary and silent for almost a minute.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I'm already breaking a lot of rules by leaving you out so long. If I let you sleep outside, I could lose my job or my apartment. Goodnight, Larry."

She slowly reached for the locket. Suddenly, Larry whipped around and got on top of her, one hand grasping her hand to prevent it from reaching the locket.

"LARRY PLEASE! STOP!" screamed Philomena.

"NO, I'M NOT GOING BACK IN THERE," he yelled.

The rage on his face filled the bedroom with a fiery energy. Philomena was shocked into stillness. Her right hand, still held firmly by Larry's, had stopped struggling. In the commotion, she had forgotten that her left hand was still free.

She took a deep breath.

"Larry, please. I don't have a choice." With this, she began to slowly move her left hand toward the locket.

When Larry noticed this, he slapped the hand away and lunged for her neck, grabbing for the chain that held the locket.

Philomena struggled, and begged him to stop, but it was no use. A chain reaction of cascading feelings had irrevocably stirred something inside of the formerly docile servant. The more she struggled, the more enraged he became.

Finally, she made a desperate attempt to roll out from underneath him and grab the locket. In her distress, she fumbled the silver heart, unable to press the blue button.

Larry reacted quickly, and leapt on top of her again. His fury was now directed not at retrieving the locket, but purely at Philomena herself.

Her muffled cry was silenced as his hands, strong from work, tightened around her neck.