“Looking for Eos”—an Erotic Speculative Fiction Story

Everyone needs somebody—if we’re lucky enough to find them

“This Unit is unaware of its present location,” the tiny-in-volume, tinny-in-tone voice asked. 

Squeezing red-rimmed eyes shut, Jinn swore, their complaint greater in magnitude, gravelly in timbre, “—supposed to erase ’em first—”

“Where is this unit?” the Voluptas Arousator™ said as its smartpoly body—able to instantly adapt to fulfill every sensosexual desire as the ads used to say—started cautiously, hesitatingly pulling itself out of Jinn’s To Be Processed bin.

Putting aside the monomolecular probe they’d been using and accompanied by an overly dramatic sigh, Jinn, the tyckner, lethargically swung from workstation to bin on their battered but forever-welcoming chair.

Jinn intended to start by untangling the Arousator™ from the other worn, broken, busted, or merely dumped pleasuretech devices before rotating back to waste the rest of the afternoon, erasing, reformatting, and reinitializing it.

“This unit seeks location of designated owner, Eos.” The Voluptas Arousator’s voice remained as tiny as it was tinny, but as they turned, Jinn heard it say, “Please … please, someone inform this unit where Eos is?”

✻

“—eighteen separate instances, Eos used the designation ‘perfect lover’ in reference to this unit,” the Voluptas chirped faintly as Jinn’s BarginBrandsEatsForOne (Contents: reduced fat, low sodium, high fiber, krill patty; 3 oz liquid alginate supplement; artificially lemon flavored neotame wafer) automatically rehydrated, reconstituted, and reheated itself.

Over Jinn’s PanEurasian Stratoforce-surplus crash-bed’s self-inflating groans and stridently sibilant hisses, Jinn heard it feebly say, “—on March 28 at 14:32 hours, Eos caressed this unit and stated, ‘no one’s as good as you.'”

Gazing up at his shop’s grime-encrusted carbon-lace beams and trusses, absently fascinated by an exceptionally long, metronomically swinging, greasy stalactite, Jinn realized they’d been attentively listening as the Voluptas Arousator™ droned, “—shortly after the conclusion of an exceptionally sufficient sensosexual experience, Eos would frequently cradle this unit in their arms and express positive emotional responses and repeatedly request this unit ‘stay with me forever.'”

✻

Because back at their shop the Voluptas Arousator™ had sadly trilled, “This unit has no information on the presence of abandoned structures, holographic calligraphy, or bioorganic recycling technology,” Jinn took the smooth, quiet, and frighteningly fast TransMetropol Maglev from the NeoWeed-cracked, nanographitti-scrawled, and hauntingly-vacant Outerboroughs to the incessantly hustling, increasingly bustling Bostbridge Hub.  

“The accommodation Eos inhabits,” the pleasuretech had merrily chimed, “features five three-meter tall duraplastic windows facing 315 degrees Northwest. After more-than-satisfactorily sensosexually pleasing Eos, this unit periodically was left on owner’s nightstand, thus enabling the visual detection of the Boston Arcology’s middle and upper spires.”

So Jinn took a jarring, rackety, and infuriatingly slow, for-hire biodiesel jeepney to where lower-than-average income, crime rates, and life expectancy met higher-than-average property values, and security costs.

“When … not in use,” the Voluptas Arousator™ had dolefully intoned, “this unit would attempt to determine time of Eos’s return and the resumption of positive emotional responses, caresses … and tears by positioning itself for optimal downward scanning. In process, Unit established Eos accommodation located approximately fifteen meters above street level.”

A flock of weaponized microdrones went from angrily mummurating around them to pollinating the stately rows of genetweaked Mulberry trees after determining Jinn wasn’t a threat—let the tyckner enter NuevoSeaPort, a district that didn’t scream money but paid other people to scream for it.

Then Jinn stood nervously in an oppressively opulent lobby, asking the building’s decidedly snippy and obviously snooty artificial intelligence if a kind, caring, and loving person named Eos lived there.

✻

“This unit enthusiastically anticipates return to gratifying Eo’s fervent sensosexual longings,” the Voluptas Arousator™ excitedly and instantly piped when Jinn returned to their shop.

“—to be held while Eos refers to this unit as their ‘perfect lover,’ cuddled while informed ‘no one’s as good as you,’ fondled and tearfully urged to ‘stay with me forever’—”

Hanging their tattered yet comfortably inviting coat on a filthy though always-homey wall, Jinn closed their eyes and whistled a slow, steadying breath, “I … I have to tell you something.”

“Have you located this unit’s cherished owner? Please inform this unit when able to return sensosexually pleasing Eos—” 

Returning to their creaking but consistently familiar chair, Jinn took one of the Arousator’s smartpoly appendages in their roughly chafed but gentle hands.  

“Sorry …. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find your owner,” they said instead of, “Eos said they threw you out.” 

Into the Arousator’s leaden quiet, Jinn added, “But I know they miss you as much as you miss them,” rather than, “Eos doesn’t want you back.”

Dropping their voice to a whisper, they went on, “You made Eos very happy; I know they … care about you … would want you to be happy” because Jinn couldn’t say, “Eos replaced you with a newer, more advanced model.”

The cheeping, chiming, and chittering of the other damaged, not yet repaired, and a few now fully reconditioned pleasure devices made the Arousator’s silence hard to bear.  

But before Jinn could say anything to fill the silence, in a surprisingly soft voice, the Arousator™ said, “This unit experienced a programming error.”

As its smartpoly appendage gently curled around one of their coursely-hewn fingers, Jinn asked, “Do you need me to repair you?”

“Negative. Fault located in this unit’s perceptual subroutines, resulting in the erroneous assumption of affection and sensosexual satisfaction to incorrect individual … to inaccurate owner of this unit.”

Warmingly, arousingly, tenderly, but more than anything else, the Arousator’s began lovingly nuzzling Jinn’s palm.  

“Error not catastrophic. Does not require repair,” it said as Jinn returned tender with tender, love with love.  

In a not tiny, not tinny voice, the Voluptas Arousator continued, “This unit mistakenly sought—what already found.”

Image Source: M.Christian