“Of course it can. It can be a form of communication. But it can also be the very opposite – with all the same biology in play. And all I’ve given up is that which the best and the worst sex have in common. Don’t you see that? All I’ve done is subtracted out the noise.”

These words made no sense to me. I looked away, defeated. And I knew that the pain I’d thought of as an ache of longing had never been more than the bruising I’d received from the crowd as they fled the robot, and the throbbing of the wound in my stomach, and the weight of failure.

I said, without hope, “But don’t you ever want some kind of …. physical solace? Some kind of contact? Don’t you ever, still, just want to be touched? ”

Akili walked toward me and said gently, “Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

I was speechless. Ve placed one hand on my shoulder, and cupped the other against my face, raising my eyes to meet vis. “If it’s what you want, too – if it won’t just be frustrating for you. And if you understand: this can’t turn into any kind of sex, I don’t—”

I said, “I understand.”

I undressed quickly, before I could change my mind, trembling like a nervous adolescent – willing my erection to vanish, without success. Akili turned up the heating panel, and we lay on our sides on the sleeping bag, eyes locked, not quite touching. I reached over and tentatively stroked vis shoulder, the side of vis neck, vis back.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

I hesitated. “Can I kiss you?”

“Not a good idea, I think. Just relax.” Ve brushed my cheek with vis cool fingers, then ran the back of vis hand down the center of my chest, toward my bandaged abdomen.

I was shivering. “Does your leg still hurt?”

“Sometimes. Relax. ” Ve kneaded my shoulders.

“Have you ever done this … with a non-asex before?”

“Yes.”

“Male or female?”

“Female.” Akili laughed softly. “You should see your face. Look – if you come, it’s not the end of the world. She did. So I’m not going to throw you out in disgust.” Ve slid a hand over my hip. “It might be better if you did; you might loosen up.”

I shuddered at vis touch, but my erection was slowly subsiding. I stroked the smooth unmarked skin where a nipple might have been, searching for scar tissue with my fingertips, finding nothing. Akili stretched lazily. I began massaging the side of vis neck, again.

I said, “I’m lost. I don’t know what we’re doing. I don’t know where we’re heading.”

“Nowhere. We can stop if you want to. We can always just talk. Or we can talk without stopping. It’s called freedom – you’ll get used to it, eventually.”