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He watched every move, serene, graceful. Her form, had it been immortalised in marble or stone, would be considered a masterpiece.
Cal’s eyes ran up and down, taking in the curvature of her breasts, the sleekness of her spine, and the silkiness of her arches. Under the gentle pulse of pink neon, she could surely command the attention of anyone.
“Thank you, miss,” Cal rose, outstretching an arm with a neatly-folded wad of bills. She looked at him, confused.
Outside, the snow was falling heavier. Cal quickly identified Brian, his friend, who waited in the shadow of a doorway some paces from the club.
“Well?”
“I felt nothing,” sighed Cal. “I can understand her perceived beauty, but I cannot feel that tightening in my chest as the texts promised.”
Brian looked almost sympathetic.
Cal glanced back at the flashing lights arching the club’s entrance. His reflection in a puddle by his foot showed a face that by all rights was human, the dimly-glowing eyes staring back judging him as less than so.
“Maybe one day your programming will adapt, Cal. Don’t feel bad.”
He processed many thoughts as they strolled, snow crunching underfoot.
“You humans, you do things like willingly throw yourselves from aeroplanes with parachutes, watch your male and female kin dance uncovered, and openly engage in games of chance with high probabilities of losing.”
“Yes?” said Brian.
“Why?”
Brian eyed the ground, nodding. There was no answer to give that didn’t sound childlike, or defensive. Why? Because what would life be without distraction? he thought. Delete thrills and you’re left with work and rest. Then we become more like androids, ourselves, don’t we? Maybe he wasn’t the best person to ask.
He couldn’t bring himself to vocalise such a thought, however. Smiling weakly, Brian flagged a cab. Behind him, Cal caught falling snowflakes in his palm, watching the stars poke holes in the black canvas above.