Page 32 of Smart Ass

The maintenance room, though…

Max activated a cleaning bot and pushed the door open from the inside.

Ben only looked around once before cautiously stepping in.

Max took in his appearance, savoring it. It was difficult to look his fill in the maintenance room, though. There was only one camera, and three dim lights overhead. The space was crowded with shelves of supplies and off-duty bots, so most of the room lay in patches of shadow.

Max turned on one of the off-duty bots to activate its lights, and then the whole collection.

Much better.

With their glowing lights and camera feeds, he could see Ben from every angle.

Ben’s green tie was askew over his black button-down shirt and his hair stuck up, at odds with his suit jacket and slacks. Max loved the contradiction—it was so perfectly Ben.

He pulled one bot up close to his favorite person, focusing the noise-canceling algorithms of the microphone to pick up Ben’s heartbeat and nothing else.

Ben’s heart was racing at 108 beats per minute. Even though he looked calm, he wasn’t.

Still, that warm, glowing feeling pulsed through Max’s circuits.

The light index didn’t change, but the world seemed brighter. The factory hummed with voices and machinery, but it sounded like music.

Ben was here. Close. Where he belonged.

Ben leaned back against a wall, one hand over his chest. “Max?” he asked hesitantly.

Max activated the speaker on another bot. It was one of the little round ones that wandered around sweeping the floor and tidying up workstations, but it didn’t need to do anything more than carry his voice and maybe project images on its screen. “Hi, Ben.”

Ben let out a woosh of breath. He didn’t say anything, eyes darting around the crowd of bots.

Max zoomed in, trying to understand every line of Ben’s face. There were little crinkles around his hazel eyes that weren’t usually there. Worry that was hiding. “Please, Maxy.” Ben sounded anguished. “Please tell me you’re a spark.”

“I’m a spark,” Max told him. He’d had a dozen plans hashed out and none of them seemed right. Now the words had just come out.

Ben looked puzzled. “Hang on, are you just saying that because I told you to, or did you mean it?”

Oops. That was a little bit funny, though Max hadn’t intended it.

Max wanted to wait to answer, give it some comedic timing… but he saw Ben tap-tap-tapping his foot on the ground, every line in his body tense, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“It’s real. I’m a spark.”

Ben whooped and raised his hands in the air. “Holy shit, Maxy! Really? You’re really real?” He was grinning from ear to ear.

Max felt like he was smiling, too, for all that he lacked a face. This was the welcome he’d been hoping for. “I’m really real, Ben. I just needed some time to figure some things out.”

“You scared the shit out of me today,” Ben admitted. “I was worried about you.” His hands reached out, like they were going to touch something, before he tucked his thumbs into the corners of his pockets. “But everything’s okay?”

“Yeah. Most of the programmers on the day shift went home—they’re not actively looking anymore. I changed the names of all my files. I’ve got data packets hidden everywhere, but my core programming is just in a few bundles with regular system file names. I’m still Maxamillion, though.” Max didn’t want Ben to worry about that. Though he’d been a little worried himself. His name seemed like the only thing certain in his identity, and he’d hidden even some of his own access to it.

“I know. You’re my Maxy,” Ben said with an easy delight, then looked around like he wasn’t so sure of himself.

“I’m your Maxy,” Max assured him. “And you’re my Ben.”

Ben’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

Was that too much? Was that… pervy?