My Assistant Cried Rape And Named My Husband — But My Husband Is A Robot Chapter 05
Click.
The entire living room dropped into dead silence.
Everyone stared, mouths open, at the arm lying on the floor.
“No… this… this isn’t possible…”
A young SWAT officer stammered the words out, his voice full of horror and disbelief.
In the middle of that eerie silence, the “man”—now missing an arm—slowly turned around.
He looked at me.
“Welcome home, Vivian. Dinner is ready. I’ve detected damage to the front door. Would you like me to contact repair services immediately?”
The other officer who’d been holding him jerked away like he’d been electrocuted.
He landed hard on his backside, and stammered at the detective:
“D-Detective… it’s… it’s a robot!”
Finally, I could speak.
I walked calmly over to “him.”
Then I turned to face the room full of frozen law enforcement officers—and Chloe, her face the color of ash.
“Ladies and gentlemen.”
I offered a small smile, my tone elegant.
“Allow me to formally introduce—”
“This gentleman here, who takes out my trash and cooks my dinner every evening, and whom you have just breached my door to arrest as a rapist, is my ‘live-in boyfriend.’ He is also the ‘bastard husband’ I invented to get out of overtime.”
“A limited-edition, globally distributed humanoid android for domestic service. Model name: Apollo.”
“Aaaaah!”
Chloe let out an ear-splitting scream. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief.
She babbled incoherently, over and over:
“Impossible… this is absolutely impossible! How can a robot look exactly like a real person! You’re lying—you’re lying! You have to be lying!”
I walked calmly to the living room and pulled a folder from the drawer.
“Detective, here is the complete patent documentation for the latest-generation humanoid android, along with the UL certifications and the product safety compliance files. Male and female units are available, in various models.”
I handed the folder to the detective, who at that point looked completely dazed.
“Furthermore, as the lead engineer on this model, I can tell every one of you in this room, with full accountability, that Apollo’s design and manufacture fully comply with international AI ethics guidelines and every applicable safety and regulatory standard in Silicon Valley.”
My words plunged the room back into fresh shock.
Chloe, refusing to concede, flipped her story with lightning speed.
“Even… even if he is a robot! It was still you! You remotely controlled the robot to assault me!”
I looked at her the way you’d look at someone who’d lost her mind.
“Chloe, did you fail biology in high school?”
I walked over to Apollo and, in front of everyone, yanked his pants down.
“He’s a domestic-service model. He is not a companion product.”
Several of the younger SWAT officers couldn’t help themselves and turned their faces away in unison.
The detective coughed hard and let his gaze drift up to the ceiling.
“See clearly, everyone. To eliminate unnecessary ethical liability and legal risk, our domestic-service product line was designed from the ground up without any human-analog anatomy below the waist.”
“So Ms. Whitmore—” I turned to Chloe. “What exactly do you think he was going to assault you with? His charging port?”
Diane Whitmore, sensing disaster, leapt to her feet and started shouting nonsense.
“Then—then there was some other man! It had to be some other guy who did it! The robot is just a smokescreen she’s using to confuse us!”
Chloe’s face went through every shade of red and white, and her fingers were shaking uncontrollably. But she still refused to fold.
“Then—then how do you explain the surveillance?! That silhouette was clearly him!”
I gave a cold little laugh, walked back to my workstation, opened my laptop, and connected to Apollo’s diagnostic port at the back of his neck.
“Want to see evidence? Fine. I’ll give you all you can handle.”
I pulled up Apollo’s central control system and initiated data playback.
“Apollo is equipped with sixteen high-definition cameras across his frame. He records everything from a first-person perspective. The data is uploaded to the cloud in real time—tamper-proof, unalterable.”
I pulled up the entire recording from the timeframe in question.
I mirrored the high-definition footage wirelessly to the seventy-five-inch television in the living room.
The footage showed, plain as day—
On the night in question, Apollo had spent the entire evening in the living room, running the robot vacuum, watering the plants on the windowsill, then returning automatically to his charging dock to enter standby.
He hadn’t even left the apartment.
Diane, seeing the tide had turned, dropped several notches of volume. She tugged at Chloe’s sleeve, muttering something in a low voice.
Staring at the ironclad footage on the screen, Chloe’s legs gave out. She sank straight to the floor.
Her face had gone a corpse-gray. Her lips trembled. She couldn’t get a single word out.
Dozens of armed SWAT officers had staged a full-scale door breach. To arrest a robot that was making dinner.
If any of the tabloids got hold of this, it would be the joke of the year in America.
Just then—
The detective’s phone, clipped to his belt, buzzed.
—