Piers Anthony

The December Special Guest Writer is

Piers Anthony

Please feel free to visit Piers HERE

piers anthony

by Piers Anthony

“Damn!” Kyle had just gotten his computer fixed, and now he realized that he had lost the power cord. He had left it connected to the unit, and a week later had picked it up without noticing the cable was gone. At this point he couldn't prove that they owed him a cable, and it wasn't worth the drive and hassle anyway. He'd just have to use another. If he could find a spare one.

And he couldn't. Every cord in the house was in use elsewhere. What could he unplug to make one available? The TV set that was about to show his favorite football game of the week? The microwave that heated most of his hasty meals? His favorite lamp with the day-glow bulb he hoped improved his health? He needed them all. If only he'd paid more attention! But he'd been distracted by other things, such as just getting the set safely home. Now he was stuck.

Then he thought of something. The newspaper had been running ads he had noticed only because of their pretty girls, one facing forward with a tight blouse, the other facing away with a tight skirt. Didn't they sell power cables, or some alternative? 24 hours a day? Maybe it was worth a shot.

He dug out the newspaper and riffed through it to find the AC/DC ad. There it was: NEVER MESS WITH A CORD AGAIN! AFFORDABLE CORDLESS CONNECTIONS. SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. And the two shapely models hired to decorate the ad, Awe Clone and Dee Clone. “Awesome! Dependable! Service anytime.”

Kyle smiled. Awe for Awesome, Dee for Dee-pendable. Awe was a blonde, with very nice frontal cleavage; Dee, facing away, had luxurious black hair to her bottom, its shape outlined by the skirt. If only creatures like those actually serviced the calls. But of course they were just there to attract the male eye.

But what about that cordless feature? His connecting cords were in a chronic tangle; plugging or unplugging anything was always a hassle. What a blessing it would be to eliminate those lines. If that was really the case.

Well, he would ask. He punched the AC/DC number. Alternating current, direct current, obviously: cordlessly available. Maybe.

The connection was immediate. “Yes, Kyle,” a dulcet voice said before he said a word. He still wasn't quite used to the caller ID feature, but didn't object. “Our installations are truly cordless, and our service is around the clock. We know you will be well satisfied. May we come out and demonstrate?”

They must get the same query all the time, so were practiced in responding to it. “Uh, sure, miss--”

“I am Awe, short for Awesome Cleavage,” she said. The model he was looking at in the ad! They took orders too? “Deep Cleft and I will be there within half an hour.”

“Uh, thanks, Awe,” he said, awed. Did they really call themselves that? AC/DC was taking on new meaning.

“You will see us shortly, Kyle,” she said sweetly.

Just like that! If they meant it, he could have this done before the big game started. That was a consummation devoutly to be wished. But the models—surely he had misheard, fooling himself. Sometimes his imagination played tricks on him.

He did spot cleaning up, though he knew the real service men wouldn't care. It was as if Awe and Dee themselves would appear, at least in his fond fancy. Wouldn't it be something to date a girl like one of them! Kyle was 24 and still looking for the right woman to share his life. Not that he would find her this way. His imagination constantly warred with his reality. Probably the voice on the phone was just a middle aged woman with a nice manner. Not the model pictured.

He heard a door shut. He looked out the window. There was the AC/DC van parked before his house, only twenty minutes after his call. They were certainly prompt.

He stared. There were the two models, Awe and Dee! How could that be?

They gathered their gear in oversize purses and walked up the walk toward the house. Suddenly Kyle wished he had cleaned up better.

He opened the door as they approached. Up close they were even more interesting than pictured. Awe's low cut blouse betrayed exactly the awesome cleavage advertised as she breathed, and Dee had a front side as well formed as her backside. “Glad to see you, girls,” he said, unable to think of anything clever. “Come in.”

They graciously entered. Their lovely eyes quickly took in the knotted cords. “Our system works like this,” Awe said, seemingly oblivious to his captive gaze at her front. “We install a mini broadcast unit at the outlet, and another on the appliance. Each is tailored to its own mate, so there is no awkward crossover.” She laughed briefly, her cleavage jogging enticingly. “Your TV set will not draw from the unit connected to your lamp. That does mean more units, costing more, but it seems safest.”

“Safest,” Kyle agreed numbly.

Awe took a breath, momentarily dazzling him. “Here is your estimate for the hardware.” She gave a figure. “We can do it now, if you prefer. Shall we proceed?” Hardware? He was so bemused by her close software that he agreed without thinking, even though he knew that it was for exactly this reason she was providing him such a compelling peek. It had to be company SOP, standard operating procedure: dazzle the client so he didn't argue about incidental things like prices. That explained why the technicians were beautiful women instead of dowdy workmen. It surely paid them to do it that way.

Awe and Dee got to work. They clearly knew what they were doing. Awe ran her delicate fingers over the units, such as the TV set, attaching the receiver in lieu of the power cord, while Dee got down on her hands and knees to delve into the writhing mass of cables. Awe was even more fully awesome as she leaned forward, while Dee's tight skirt pulled down to expose the top of her sacroiliac. At one point there was a minor complication, and Dee reached up to show Awe a unit while Awe squatted down to adjust it, in the process showing Dee's own awesome cleavage, while Awe showed her own deep cleft. The two were similarly endowed. Kyle was mute; he wouldn't think of interrupting such a display.

Soon they were done. Kyle was almost disappointed. He was glad that no cords showed, but sorry that the incidental show was over.

“Now to test the connections,” Awe said. “Turn on your TV, please.”

Kyle turned it on. It worked perfectly. Better yet, it was still half an hour to game time, though he would have been happy to miss the game while watching them work longer.

“That's good,” Awe said.

They would finish soon and depart. Now was the time. “Um, maybe this is inappropriate, but what do you girls do after hours?”


“I mean, do you date?”

“No. We are on constant call, twenty four hours. We go from one assignment to the next.”

She was telling him she did not care to be social with him. He could take a hint. “Great work on the TV!”

“Thank you. Now--”

She was interrupted by a power failure. The TV went dark, and the lights in the room went out. Such lapses happened on occasion, generally lasting only a few minutes. All it took was a drunk driver crashing into a power pole.

Awe sank gracefully to the floor; Kyle just managed to catch her and ease her down. Dee, in the process of getting up, dropped flat on the floor. What had happened to them?

Kyle felt Awe's wrist for a pulse, but found none. He listened at her mouth for breathing. There was none. She was unconscious. Or, worse, dead. Dee was in the same condition.

Desperate, Kyle tried mouth to mouth respiration, fixing his mouth on Awe's mouth and blowing. But the air would not go; it was as if she had no longs. He tried pulmonary respiration, putting his hands on her breasts—there was no where else—to compress her chest, squeezing her heart to try to keep the blood flowing, but this too was ineffective. Her body was like that of a doll, soft but lacking any give and take.

He was in a panic. What could he do? Both girls had been so animate, and now it was as if they had been completely turned off, like his TV set.

That gave him a notion. Could it possibly be?

He looked out the window, and saw that there seemed to be no lights in the neighborhood. It was a general outage.

He quickly pulled up Awe's blouse, baring her chest. She wore no bra. Her breasts had no nipples. Her belly had no belly button. He drew down her skirt. Sure enough, there were no genitalia. She was literally a doll!

He turned her over. There in the middle of her back was the power receptor unit, just like the ones they had been installing. That was the confirmation: she operated from power beamed to her from the other part of the unit, maybe in the AC/DC van. When the neighborhood outage had occurred, their power supplies had been cut off.

Probably all he had to do was wait until the power returned, and they would reanimate. They were not dead, at least not the way regular people might be. He hoped.

He hauled Awe up and set her in a chair. He pulled her clothing awkwardly back into place. Then he did the same for Dee, verifying that she too had the receptor plug in her back. They were both robots.

The power returned. Both girls animated, looking blank as they evidently ran through their self-check menus. Then Awe looked at Kyle. “Power failure?”

“Yes. I tried to help you, but--”

“We understand. There was nothing you could do.”

“I thought you were dead! I tried artificial respiration, but it didn't work.”

Awe was tucking her clothing back together. “You found the receptors.”

“Yes. Then I hoped you would recover safely.”

“Yes. It happens.” She sighed. “We are designed to appeal to the male eye, to facilitate the business. We are unable to deliver what our bodies hint. But sometimes I wish I could deliver. To actually love a man.” She mopped what might have been a tear, had her eye been capable of it.

“I wish you could too,” Kyle said. And not just because she was beautiful. She truly wanted to be a functional woman, and could not. That was heartrendingly sad.

She stood, as animate as before. She was breathing now. “Let's finish the testing.”

Just like that. Well, for them it was just like being turned off, routine.

“You certainly seemed real,” he said. “I had no idea.”

“Thank you.”

“In fact you still seem real. I still would like to--” He broke off. What, actually, could he do with an animate doll? “I shouldn't have mentioned it.”

“We understand.”

Was he imagining the tinge of sadness? That made him feel worse.

Soon everything had been tested. There were no problems.

“We are done here,” Awe said briskly.

“Time to pay you,” Kyle agreed, getting out his credit card.

“Put that away. There will be no charge.”

“But you did great work! I'm completely satisfied.”

“There was an interruption. You did not get the promptness you deserve, and were put in an awkward situation. You did what you could for us, and we do appreciate that. We apologize by deleting the charge.”

“I really don't mind. It wasn't your fault.”

“We would like you to understand that we are not robots. We are androids. We are made in the laboratory, and are artificial people, but we don't have wires, we have nerves. Not motors, but muscles. Not programs, but feelings.”

“If I hurt your feelings, I apologize!” Kyle said. “I think you're great people, regardless of your origin.”

“We would appreciate your discretion. We prefer that this kind of mishap not be advertised.”

“You have it! I'll say nothing.”

“About dating.” She had evidently understood his prior hinting. “Dee and I are made only for installing cordless units. We would be no good for you in any other capacity. But in appreciation for your discretion, we will send you NC for twenty four hours.”

“No Charge,” he agreed. “That's fine.”

She smiled. “In this case, it stands for Nova Clone. She is a dating specialist. She is excellent at her trade. She is also anatomically correct, as we are not. You should find her interesting.”

Anatomically correct. What a difference that would make! “Thank you,” he said faintly.

The two clones exited the house and walked to their van. As they did, a sport car drew up and parked behind them. A gorgeous redhead got out. She embraced each clone, exchanging a few words with them. Then she strode purposefully toward Kyle.

This had to be Nova Clone. The specialist in dating. What a date he had coming! For a full day and night! And yet, he almost wished she had come later, because he had counted on watching the big game. Girls, fun as they could be in other respects, generally weren't much for that sort of thing.

Nova caught his eye as she came close. She was every bit as sightly as the others. In fact, more so, as his mind's eye filled in the hidden details of an anatomically correct woman. She smiled, and indeed the flash of brightness was like a nova.

Kyle knew she was an android, made in the laboratory, programmed for her specialty. That hardly mattered; he liked her specialty, and after seeing the competence of the other clones in theirs, he was quite ready to experience it. He was ready for whatever she offered.

Nova took his hand. Her own hand was warm and encouraging. “My siblings tell me you are a good man, with excellent discretion, and have a big game to watch. I'm a fan. I'll fix you a snack, then join you, rooting for the home team. We'll get to know each other before we get serious.” She kissed his cheek. “And we will get serious.”

Wow! His cheek was tingling. She really was good at what she did. They should have a great time together. Beginning with watching the football game. She was clearly his kind of girl, regardless what she was made of. “Okay,” he said happily.

“But first, a message from Awe.” She drew him into her close, pressing her soft bosom against him, and kissed him lingeringly on the mouth. It bid fair to be the most evocative kiss he had ever experienced.

“That was Awesome,” he agreed when he got his breath back.

“It's just the beginning,” she assured him. “Dee will have a message too.”

Oh, yes!

Piers Anthony was born in Oxford, England, in AwGhost 1934. He spent time with relatives and a nanny while his parents went to do relief work in Spain during the Spanish Civil War of 1936-39. They were helping to feed the children rendered hungry by the devastation of the war. When that ended, Piers and his sister joined them in Spain. He came to America at the age of six.

He received a BA in writing at Goddard College in Vermont, where he met his wife. He has had more than 145 books published, with more in the pipeline, such as the Isis fantasy series.

You can learn more about Piers Anthony HERE








































































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