Demon Seed Read Free

techno geeks, little more than an expensive toy.
    Susan wondered if she had added this feature to the house computer solely because, unconsciously, she took pleasure from being able to issue orders to someone named Alfred. And from being obeyed by him.
    If this were the case, she wasn’t sure what it revealed about her psychological health. She didn’t want to think about it.
    She sat nude in the dark.
    She was so beautiful.
    She was so beautiful.
    She was so beautiful there in the dark, on the edge of the bed, alone and unaware of how her life was about to change.
    She said, “Alfred, lights on.”
    The bedroom appeared slowly, resembling a patinaed scene on a pictorial silver tray, revealed only by glimmering mood lighting: a soft glow in the ceiling cove, the nightstand lamps dimmed by a rheostat.
    If she directed Alfred to give her more light, it would be provided. She did not ask for it.
    Always, she was most comfortable in gloom. Even on a fresh spring day, with bird-song and the smell of clover on the breeze, even with sunshine like a rain of gold coins and the natural world as welcoming as Paradise, she preferred shadows.
    She rose from the edge of the bed, trim as a teenager, lithe, shapely, a vision. When it met her body, the pale silver light became golden, and her smooth skin seemed faintly luminous, as though she were aglow with an inner fire.
    When she occupied the bedroom, the surveillance camera in that space was deactivated to ensure her privacy. She had locked it off earlier, on retiring. Yet she felt ... watched.
    She looked toward the comer where the observant lens was discreetly incorporated into the dental molding near the ceiling. She could barely see the dark glass eye.
    In an only half-conscious expression of modesty, she covered her breasts with her hands.
    She was so beautiful.
    She was so beautiful.
    She was so beautiful in the dim light, standing by the side of the Chinese sleigh bed, where the rumpled sheets were still warm with her body heat if one were capable of feeling it, and where the scent of her lingered on the Egyptian cotton if one were capable of smelling it.
    She was so beautiful.
    “Alfred, explain the status of the bedroom camera.”
    “Camera deactivated,” the house replied at once.
    Still, she frowned up at the lens.
    So beautiful.
    So real.
    So Susan.
    Her feeling of being watched now passed.
    She lowered her hands from her breasts.
    She moved to the nearest window and said, “Alfred, raise the bedroom security shutters.”
    The motorized, steel-slat, Rolladen-style shutters were mounted on the inside of the tall windows. They purred upward, traveling on recessed tracks in the side jambs, and disappeared into slots in the window headers.
    In addition to providing security, the shutters had prevented outside light from entering the bedroom. Now the pale moon glow, passing through palm fronds, dappled Susan’s body.
    From this second-floor window, she had a view of the swimming pool. The water was as dark as oil, and the shattered reflection of the moon was scattered across the rippled surface.
    The terrace was paved in brick, surrounded by a balustrade. Beyond lay black lawns, and half-glimpsed palms and Indian laurels stood dead-still in the windless night.
    Through the window, the grounds looked as peaceful and deserted as they had seemed when she had surveyed them through the security cameras.
    The alarm had been false. Or perhaps it had been only a sound in an unrecollected dream.
    She started back to the bed, but then turned toward the door and left the room.
    Many nights she woke from half-remembered dreams, her stomach muscles fluttering and her skin clammy with cold sweat—but with her heart beating so slowly that she might have been in deep meditation. As restless as a caged cat, she sometimes prowled until dawn.
    Now, barefoot and unclothed, she explored the house. She was moonlight in motion, slim and supple, the goddess Diana, huntress and protector. She was