Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #18 September 2015 | Page 6

programming didn’t allow him to speak against them, even if he wanted to. “Good morning, Adam,” said Aryana with a hint of a smile. “Did you have pleasant dreams?” Often, he spent time alone in his room. He liked to build model airplanes, and in his fantasies, he imagined being a pilot. He’d travel to places he’d read about, such as Egypt, Peru, Greece, India. He wasn’t sure if his programming allowed for such dreams, but he couldn’t help himself. Something inside him wanted to adventure to faraway places, and he felt better after each excursion in his mind. Unsure if she was being sarcastic or not, Adam sat down and honestly replied, “Yes, actually. I dreamt I was in India playing a flute for a pretty girl.” Nearly spitting out his tea, Asher laughed and said, “You’ve got to be kidding! You’re a bot. You don’t have dreams. How stupid!” A.I. bots don’t sleep, he told himself as he drifted away to India. In the land of lush, green forests and rivers, he saw himself as a blue-skinned god. He was playing a flute and listening to a farm-maiden sing. She was beautiful beyond compare with gold skin and dark brown hair to her knees. He wanted to kiss her hands and her lips and call her his own. Asher was a young man of seventeen with very blonde, spiky hair, and Adam never liked his spoiled personality. Never doing his homework, Asher was always out partying with friends. When he was home, he stayed in his room while listening to loud bass music. Adam thought he was quite obnoxious, and yet, he was forced to serve him. Waking up to the beeping noise inside his inner clock, Adam headed to his bathroom for a shower. As he undressed, he looked in the mirror and marveled at how human he appeared. He had a tall, slender, though muscular body. With cleanly cut blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, he was a high class robot. “Shut up,” snapped Priscilla. “You don’t know. Maybe Adam has dreams because he’s different. Maybe he has a human soul.” She was just spoiled as her brother in many ways, but Adam had always thought she was a sweet girl who tried her best to behave. Am I not a man? he asked himself as he ran his hand across his chest. It was hairless and smooth and felt soft to his touch. He then pinched the skin of his shoulder, feeling the pressure of his nerve endings. I feel human, and yet, I know I’m not, he thought. How strange. Asher laughed, then bent down to feed their dog, Mickey. “You’re so weird, Priss,” said Asher with an evil grin. “It’s not impossible,” replied Priscilla. “I’ve read articles about it in Science Weekly about how some A.I. experience what they think are dreams. And father always said—” After showering, Adam checked his mail, and then Mrs. Valoré’s mail. He was able to download it all from the wireless chip in his brain, so it only took seconds to retrieve. He then headed for the kitchen. “Then it’s a fluke,” Asher interrupted her. “They just think they’re dreaming, but they’re not. It’s a malfunction in their hard wiring or something.” Checking on the head chef, Bosco, he saw that breakfast had already been served. Am I late? he asked himself. It must have been that dream that caused me to oversleep. I hope Mrs. Valoré won’t be mad. “Be quiet, both of you,” said Aryana with a wave of her hand. She had been reading her electronic paper and was disturbed by their discussion. When he got to the breakfast table, he saw that his mistress and her children were all there enjoying tea with hard boiled eggs and croissants. Adam felt trapped in the middle of their intellectual argument. He was glad Priscilla had spoken 6