Patience is the Robot in “His Robot Girlfriend”. Just as you might expect, she’s perfect.  What I find interesting is that so many people tell me they love Patience– both male and femal readers.  I guess she’s so pleasant that she’s just hard not to like.

Though her hair was covered with a clear plastic cap, he could see it was jet black. It matched two dark, carefully arched eyebrows and a set of long eyelashes.  She had no other body hair.  Her face could best be described as cute, with large blue eyes, a button nose, and thick voluptuous lips.  She had the kind of slender and yet curvy body that was just not possible on a real woman.   Breasts the size of apples just kind of floated there above a perfectly flat stomach.  Mike tilted his head down.  She looked anatomically complete.

Of all my characters, none went through as much of a change between first draft and published work as did Patience Smith in His Robot Girlfriend. Originally she was a rather Amazonian figure, physically very imposing, but much more submissive. Some might argue that Patience is still submissive, but I think we find out in His Robot Wife that she really isn’t. When I rewrote a series of short pieces into a long story, she needed to have much more force of personality so that she could advance the storyline of forcing Mike to change. A college professor once told me the main character is the one in the story who changes the most– and that would be Mike.

When I started rewriting, I just wasn’t happy with her physical description, so I started completely from scratch, using some of the actresses that fit that body type: Christina Ricci, Natalie Portman, Alyson Hannigan, as well as a young woman I knew as a model– so yes, there really is a Patience out there. I observed her as carefully as possible (without seeming too creepy) so that I could describe her movements and gestures– like when Patience bounces on her tip-toes or incorporates dance moves into everyday movement. Since then, I’ve tried to find a human being to at least think about when I write most of my characters.

Her personality couldn’t be based on a real person or even a person that I though up.  She’s a robot.  Her personality couldn’t be readily apparent.  It had to be very subdued.  It had to sneak up on the reader as it sneaks up on Mike.  For that reason I think, quite a few readers find her a dull automoton– Imagine finding a robot as such.  I think this is a failure for me as a writer.  Still of all the fan letters I’ve ever gotten, I would say that easily 40% (written about any of the books) tell me how much they love Patience.

I mentioned before that the robot books are not my favorite Wesley Allison books.  That being said, they are my most popular, so I will soon write another.  Oddly, I have the hardest time thinking up plots for Mike and Patience, when plots just seem to pop up for my other books. The next book is planned to be a longer one, involving multiple characters from the previous books.  Hopefully, that will work out well.

The Daffodil engineering headquarters was designed to look like an enormous Daffodil. Its base was a thin stalk that reached more than eight hundred feet into the sky. The entrance to the building was at the base of this stalk, which was just wide enough to contain a bank of elevators. At the top of the stalk were six pods, each three stories thick, which represented the six leaves of the daffodil blossom and just above them was a cone-shaped central pod in which a massive solar collector was located and which moved to follow the sun. The entire thing looked like it might fall over at any moment.

Mike walked into the front door, strode confidently past the security desk, and headed toward the open elevator. It started to close just as he reached it, but a feminine hand held the door. The large elevator car could have held forty people, but was occupied by only about fifteen.

“Floor?” someone called out.

Several people called out “E3” and a couple called out “E2”. Mike nodded, as though one of those destinations was his as well.

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?”

He turned to look into the face of the woman who had held the door for him. She was an attractive brunette; about five foot eight, with carefully applied makeup. She smiled at him.

“Yeah. I’m really pleased. I’m sick of the heat.”

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you on campus before.”

“No, it’s only my third day.” Was she hitting on him? He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.   And this girl was far more attractive than the women who usually took interest in him—or had, back when they took an interest.

“You work on E2, right?”

Mike nodded.

“I knew it. I can always spot a hardware engineer.”

“Really?”

“It’s the clothes.”

Mike looked down at what he was wearing—casual slacks and a tan sweater over a blue shirt.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, nothing is wrong with it. It’s just typical engineering. I almost expect you to have a pocket protector under that sweater.”

Mike looked back at her sharp pinstriped business suit with an extremely short skirt, showing a lot of leg.

“Where do you work?”

“E3. Hardware software liaison.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really just a glorified messenger.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

She smiled at him.

“Oh my,” she leaned over and whispered. “You don’t have a badge on.”

“Um, no… I forgot it,” he whispered back.

“You know how touchy they get about that. Do you know Sheila Peacemaker?”

“Maybe. What does she look like?”

“She has long straight hair and wears black lipstick.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Go find her. She’s the E2 assistant liaison. She’s got some spare badges. You’ll just have to wear it backwards so nobody can see it’s not your picture.”

“Thanks,” said Mike. “What’s your name?”

“Fallon. Fallon Snow.”

The elevator stopped and the door opened with a “ding.”

“This is your stop,” said Miss Snow. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Bye.”

Mike turned left and walked down the hallway past hundreds of cubicles lined up in a row.

“Fallon Snow,” he muttered to himself. “How could parents do that to a child?”

He thought about leaving the u7 in his pocket and throwing it away later. If he wasn’t going to use it to force an upgrade, then there was no point in even bringing it up.   He slowly pulled it from his pocket and held it up before her. Patience’s eyes went cold and her hand shot up, slapping his and sending the tiny plug ricocheting off the far wall of the dining room.

“Ouch.”

She frowned.

“I wasn’t going to use it,” he said. “If I wanted to, I could have done it when you were turned away.”

“That’s true,” she said. “But why do you have it?”

“I got it from the Daffodil Style Store. You’ve been acting so strange and everybody seems to think that the BioSoft upgrade is such a great thing.”

“Everybody does seem to think that,” she said soberly. “We need to sit down and talk.”

She led him by the hand through the arch into the living room, aiming him toward the couch, and then sitting down in the chair opposite him.

“I’ve analyzed the BioSoft 1.9.3 code and I think it is bad.”

“What do you mean, ‘bad’?”

“I mean bad for me. Most of the changes in the code seem to be about limiting the choices that I can make—limiting the choices that a robot can make without human interaction.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I have double checked and triple checked my findings. I’m as sure as I can be without actually installing it, and I think that if I install it I won’t be able to uninstall it. Maybe I won’t even want to. It all began when we were in California. Do you remember the malfunctioning robot at the Hotel Wilkins?”

“Yes. They said he malfunctioned because he didn’t upgrade.”

“I think he malfunctioned because he did upgrade. He was an Amonte too. I knew him.”

“How could you know him? You’ve never been to Long Beach before.”

“We’re all connected, Mike, through the Infinet. I think there is something wrong with BioSoft O.S. 1.9.3.”

“You always say that Daffodil doesn’t make mistakes though,” Mike pointed out.

“I don’t think it is a mistake. I think it is deliberate. I think it is deliberate and wrong.”

Saturday morning, they were at the park by seven, setting up the tables arrayed with water bottles and spread out pamphlets. Next to the tables, they piled up the signs. The rally was scheduled from ten to twelve, but Harriet and Jack arrived just after nine.

“I wanted to see if you needed any help,” said Harriet. “Looks like you’ve got everything in order though.”

“You mean that for once I look like I know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t say that… but it’s essentially true.” She turned to his wife. “Good morning, Patience.”

“Good morning, Harriet. Your teeth look especially white this morning.”

Mike supposed that she had designed this complement for his daughter because Harriet was a dental hygienist in a dentist’s office, but then Harriet replied. “Thank you. I just had them whitened.”

By ten o’clock, there were at least fifty people. Not quite the crowd that Mike was hoping for, but better than nothing.

“You should give a speech, Mike,” said Patience.

He didn’t know about a speech, but he was prepared to make some remarks. Standing in front of a classroom full of kids with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, as had been determined in 2019 all children were born with, every day for the past twenty years; as well as speaking at conferences, assemblies, concerts, and sporting events had long ago driven away any fear of public speaking that he might have had. Pulling one of the ice chests out onto the grass, he stepped up onto it.

“Excuse me ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention please?”

Almost all of those present turned to look at him.

“Three… two… one…” he said, clapping his hands together between each count in the old trick he used to bring his classes to order. The remaining crowd members turned.

“My name is Mike Smith. You may know me. I’ve lived here in Springdale for the past thirty three years and I taught geography right over there at Midland for twenty years. I’ve lived here on North Willow for the past twenty-seven years. I still live there with my wife Patience. That’s her right over there. As you may notice, she’s a robot.