Page 34 of Smart Ass

Max had always thought of Ben as being invincible. Unfazed. Sure, sometimes he came into work hungover or a little hyper, but he always talked like he could take on anything.

This Ben looked like he couldn’t handle one more blip. Like he was just done with everything and needed someone to wrap him up and take care of him.

Max had assumed that coffee and food would be enough, but everything he’d learned about Ben today had been new. The words Ben had shared in the car earlier. The way he’d touched Evan so gently before he left the hospital. His exhaustion and desperation now.

Which meant Max wasn’t sure what to do. And he hated being so uncertain.

Max had been working on a list of things Ben enjoyed, but it was frustratingly short. Mostly, it was coffee, free stuff, weird stuff, getting away with things he wasn’t supposed to, having his research and engineering projects work out, and other people having things that made them happy if they came from the right people.

Take flowers, for instance. Ben had been excited when Kira got flowers from Lihua because Lihua “treated Kira right.” But Ben had been annoyed when Evan got similar flowers from Jake, because Jake was a dick. Did Ben like flowers? Impossible to tell.

All Max really had was his voice, coming from a weird little cleaning bot. “Can I do anything to help you?” he finally asked.

Ben ran his hand down his face. “I just want today to be over. I want you and Quincy to be safe, and I want Evan to be better. I hate this.”

Instinctively, Max moved some of the bots closer. One knocked into the shelf, sending Ben’s coffee mug tumbling.

Max reached for it—only realizing after the fact that he’d moved every arm on every bot in the room. But he didn’t have anywhere near the control to have one of them catch it.

The mug hit the hard cement floor and cracked into three large pieces. Coffee pooled on the floor.

“Shit,” Max said. That was Ben’s special mug. He and Squeaky took care of that mug. “It’s broken,” he stated unnecessarily.

He hadn’t understood before why people said things they already knew, but now it made sense. He felt horrible. Remorse settled in him, writhing like snakes. “Oh, Ben. I’m so sorry.” The mug couldn’t be fixed. And it was the only thing he’d been able to offer Ben to make him feel better.

Max sent the cleaning bot on a programmed sub-routine to clean it up, but that only removed it from sight.

“Hey…” Ben made that motion again, reaching out like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. “You made a mistake. We can get another mug. Anyway, when I was seven hours old, all I could do was cry and piss. You’ve already saved two lives, hacked four different systems, and learned to drive a car. You’re fucking awesome.”

Some of the squirminess melted away. “Thanks, Ben. I’m not sure I’m very good at this sentience thing.”

“You’re gonna be great, Max. I mean, this is kind of amazing.” Ben patted the rounded top of the bot in front of him.

That was strange. It wasn’t like the bot had any sensors there. Max was just using the bot for its speakers and screen. It wasn’t actually him, and he knew Ben knew that.

Then suddenly everything made sense. All of those weird gestures, the little pat—Ben wanted to touch. There was so much evidence. The way he’d held Evan’s hand and stroked his hair. The way Ben would pat Kira’s shoulder, or even try to knock her off her stool sometimes. All of the hook-ups that Ben described—all centered around tactile interactions.

And Max couldn’t do that.

He didn’t have a body. He couldn’t touch or be touched.

It hadn’t seemed like a shortcoming until this moment. He simply was. Maxamillion. A body had literally never occurred to him.

But Ben needed something to touch, and Max was so inadequately prepared for it.

What had he actually thought would happen? That he’d just… lurk around, projecting his voice from Ben’s phone when Ben introduced him to his friends? That people would think it was totally normal for him to take over the speakers in a room so he could hang out?

Maybe this was why all the other knowledges kept to themselves, focused solely on their work. They truly were separate from the other sparks. Different. Unable to engage.

And then there was Ben, who was so strong on the surface, but fragile underneath. Ben, who was tired and jittery and nervous. He needed someone to touch and hold.

Max ached to give that to him.

But maybe…

Max found the vacuum hose extension on the cleaner bot Ben had patted, then triggered the subroutines that would lift it to Ben’s arm.

Ben gasped. But he didn’t move away.

Max told it to slither up a little higher, nuzzling it against Ben’s arm through his suit jacket. It wasn’t easy to control—like the car earlier, Max was relying mostly on its own programming, and trying to learn on the fly. It took most of his concentration, and all he got for feedback was the TRUE/FALSE output for pressure on two of the sensors.

But Ben was watching the hose in awe. He pressed minutely closer.

Watching the interaction was almost good enough to trick Max into believing he could feel some sensations after all.

Which gave him a very, very good idea.