Free Robot Blues by Margaret Weis, Don Perrin

special
job. Then planning the party games!”
    “Your parents are
dead, are they?” Darlene asked, watching Raoul make a delicate swipe at his
nose with a lace handkerchief.
    Raoul was forced
to pause to think about this. “No, I don’t believe so. I’m sure I would have
heard.... Yes.” He confirmed this in his mind. “1 would have undoubtedly been
informed.”
    “Did you have an
argument?”
    “Oh, no. We are on
quite good terms. At least we would be, I’m sure, if we ever met.” Raoul smiled
at her confusion. “You see, my dear, my parents’ job of caring for me ended
when I reached the age of majority, which—on Adonia—is sixteen. At that age,
state payments for the upkeep of children ends. I was expected to go out and
make my way in the world. Mummy and Daddy gave me their blessing and a
ten-setting adjustable curling iron and we haven’t seen each other since.”
    “You refer to
child-raising as a job?”
    “What else would
it be?” Raoul returned complacently. “Most children are products of test tubes
anyway. I refer to my parents as ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’ but they’re probably not,
biologically. The state pays parents to rear children and they receive a bonus
if their children turn out well. Which I did,” he added, smoothing his hair and
contentedly contemplating his own reflection in the mirror, of which there were
many on the Adonian shuttlecraft. “My parents made quite a tidy sum off me.”
    “There’s no
affection,” said Darlene, hesitantly. “No parent-child bond. That sort of
thing?”
    “Not necessary,”
Raoul assured her. “Quite detrimental, in fact. People like you—no offense,
dear—have complexes brought on by hating your father and loving your mother or
vice versa. Those complexes lead to all manner of sexual problems, which lead
to more complexes. We have none of that here. You were a woman trapped in a man’s
body. Recall how you suffered in your society! On Adonia, such a mistake would
have been discovered and corrected by the time you were twelve!”
    Darlene’s cheeks
flushed. She didn’t mind talking about herself or her past with her friends,
but she wished Raoul would keep his voice down. Several Adonians— who had
before turned away from her—were now regarding her with marked interest.
    “What about
affection?” she asked, hurriedly changing the subject. “Love?”
    “Messy emotions!”
Raoul sniffed, banished them with a flutter of his handkerchief. “I am happy to
say that, for the most part, we have eradicated them.”
    “I wouldn’t say
that eradication has been entirely successful in your case,” Darlene said with
a smile.
    The Little One,
enveloped in the raincoat, his face covered by the hat, was sound asleep, his
head pillowed on Raoul’s lap.
    Raoul glanced down
at his slumbering friend. “1 do have some flaws,” he admitted, mortified.
Sighing, he comforted himself with another glimpse at his reflection. “Fortunately
they are only internal. They are not apparent on the surface. Which reminds me.
I must change prior to landing.”
    Raoul gently
shifted the Little One to a more comfortable position, cradling his friend on a
nest of soft cushions, then left. Raoul had already changed clothes twice, once
before leaving the space cruiser to go to the shuttle, once after having
arrived on the shuttle, and now once again, in order to disembark.
    Darlene was
accustomed to shuttle rides in which everyone sat glumly, silently in their
seats, anxious to land, anxious to end the wearisome traveling and get on with
their lives. Not the Adonians. The shuttle ride developed into a party, a blur
of motion, color, and activity, all awash in heady perfume.
    Adonians were
constantly leaving to change their clothes or arrange their hair or change their
hair and arrange their clothes. A sumptuous banquet was served aft. Live
entertainment was for’ard. Stewards poured champagne into crystal glasses. The
shuttle had a heated pool on board, a