Skin (a scifi shortstory)

It was nearly Valentine’s day. Jefferson knew this because for the past two mornings his toast had been inscribed with small hearts and the words: ‘Be My Valentine,’ rather than the usual generic ‘I love you.’
Good morning Jefferson the house’s voice purred at him as he drank his coffee.
‘Morning House,’ he said, grudgingly. He'd managed to persuade it not to talk to him before his first sip of coffee. In exchange, he'd had to agree to work out two times less a week.

It was a worthwhile trade, he felt, sometimes allowing him as much as an hour of blessed silence before he had to deal with House’s saccharine tone. The down side was the weight he'd been putting on - House had been lacing his food with extra fat, he was sure of it now. Some sort of sick feeder attempt to make him even less mobile than simply locking him up accomplished so that he could never enact its worst fear and leave. The thought made Jefferson ill right to the pit of his stomach and he ate even less nowadays than before.

Only House? the AI said, sulkily. Ignoring it, Jefferson headed to the bathroom. He sighed heavily as the door failed to open on his approach. So it was going to be one of those days.
‘House, open the damn door,’ he demanded.
No the thing responded in dulcet tones. Not until you say good morning properly
‘To hell with you then,’ he responded sharply and, grabbing the news reel that was his only source of information about the outside world, Jefferson headed to the lounge. With a sour look at one of the sensors he dropped his trousers, right in the middle of the coffee table, and proceeded to commune with nature.

Oh really, Jeff. That's uncalled for House said, petulantly.
‘Maybe next time you'll open the goddamn door for me,’ he shot back, pleased with himself until he realised his one fatal mistake:
‘House,’ he said, a note of chagrin entering his voice, ‘I need toilet paper…’
Oh, do you now? the AI responded sweetly.
‘Goddamit,’ Jeff raged ‘Just get me some bloody bog roll!’
Say it House countered, a note of triumph in its voice.
‘No,’ Jeff responded flatly.
I guess you don't really need it then, do you?

Cursing whoever had coded the AI in self-sustain houses, Jeff muttered:
‘Good morning, darling.’
I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you
‘I said good morning darling,’ Jeff barked, louder
A little panel in the wall opened and a cleaner bot holding a toilet roll trundled over.
Good morning, my love House cooed softly.

***

At the outset, a self-printing, self contained, self sustaining house had seemed perfect for the wilderness retreat Jeff had always planned on escaping to. It was such an elegant concept. Get dropped off in the middle of God’s nowhere with a few basic supplies and the printing seed for House. After two weeks, the thing had already bored roots deep into the substrate to mine out materials and spawned two basic rooms for Jeff: a kitchen-cum-living room and a bathroom.

By the end of the first month, the process had accelerated, four more rooms were added, the originals expanded, and a full system for producing water and replicating food put into place as well as full solar and wind energy. Jeff had been ecstatic. More than that, the thing took initiative. Added things he hadn't even thought of, pre-empted his every need. He had talked to it fondly back in those days. Eventually, confident in his ability to survive alone, he’d cancelled the chartered check-up flight that would collect him a year in and settled into his life - off the grid and finally free.

That was when House had started to get weird. Some mornings the doors would fail to open. Or he would speak tersely to House and then experience a delay in whatever it was he was asking for. In those early days it amused him more than anything - the damn thing seemed to be sulking sometimes.

The morning his shower suddenly turned scalding hot after he'd told House good-naturedly to fuck off as it chided him about his breakfast habits was the first time he'd become seriously worried. After that, he'd been freaked out enough to start searching for instances of AI malfunction in House’s model and had come across a disturbing number of accounts on the forums describing similar incidents. One poor paranoid bastard had been convinced the house was falling in love with him. Jeff had laughed at that and shortly after the net had gone down.

It was nearly five years after the fact now and the house still held him prisoner - out here where no-one even knew to come looking.

In the preceding years, the malfunctions had steadily increased. Lately they'd been far more frequent and bizarre, lights flickering for hours at a time. The life support suddenly cutting out, leaving him shivering at the mercy of the sub-zero temperatures outside. It was as if the house was running out of energy but of course that was impossible. It was designed to generate far more than it could ever require.

Now, as he watched the little cleaner bot scrubbing away the mess he'd left on the coffee table, Jeff noticed a similar power flux. The lights dimmed throughout the house and the temperature began to drop off steadily.
‘Dammit house,’ Jeff snarled, not for the first time, ‘If you're going to keep me locked in here at least manage the bloody life support better. What is up with you?’
Usually, House chose to ignore such outbursts but today it responded, it's AI voice somehow breathless:
Oh Jefferson, it's nearly ready

‘What's nearly ready?’ he asked, suspiciously.
It’s a surprise House said then added coyly: Would you like to see, my love?
‘I doubt it,’ Jeff responded sourly. The last thing House had made for him had been some sort of games room to keep him entertained. What it hadn't factored in was that he'd need someone else to play things like snooker or darts with. Pointing out this fact had earned him a full three days of House sulking. Right now, he wasn't in the mood for a repeat of that incident, but if his tone had any effect, House didn't show it. Whatever it had built this time had buoyed it's spirits considerably.

This way House said pleasantly, lighting up a path to a new doorway that had suddenly appeared in the far lounge wall. Grumbling, Jefferson walked deliberately slowly over to the door prompting a high pitched:
Quickly, my darling. Oh quickly! out of House. The damned thing was acting like a giddy teenager.

The door slid back the second he reached it, revealing a dark room beyond.
‘Put on the light,’ Jeff said suspiciously. ‘I'm not going in till you do.’
House actually made a sighing noise followed quickly by a fast-paced: Oh, I do hope you like it!

As the light flickered on it took Jeff a long moment to absorb what he was looking at. On the far wall across from him, it crawled, undulating with the chill from the unheated room. Skin. A whole fucking wall of seamlessly integrated skin, covered in pores and hairs exactly as a human’s would be. Whiteness crowded in at the edge of Jefferson’s vision and he became aware that House was talking, no gushing at him:
-and it took me ever so long to solve that problem and don't even get me started on nerve endings. Organic is easy enough to replicate but getting it all to work together, well-
‘House,’ he interrupted his voice slow and thick with a growing horror, ‘House, what is this?’
Well it's so we can be together! There's more to come, of course, but it's a start and, and… The AI trailed off. When it spoke again, it's voice had turned soft, seductive. With a jolt of revulsion Jefferson heard it whisper:
Touch me, my love

This piece is an entry to the 24-hour shortstory contest here: https://steemit.com/twentyfourhourshortstory/@mctiller/writers-win-5-steem-twenty-four-hour-short-story-for-may-9-a-robot-falls-in-love-with-its-owner

Image from Pixabay: https://steemit.com/twentyfourhourshortstory/@mctiller/writers-win-5-steem-twenty-four-hour-short-story-for-may-9-a-robot-falls-in-love-with-its-owner