‘Good morning. Kimberley Jamieson?’
‘Good morning.’
‘I am Doctor Enson.’ He stood in the doorway.
‘Forgive me. Do come in, Doctor.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It’s straight ahead and on the right. The lounge.’
‘Thank you.’
As they entered, Kimberley said, ‘Please sit down.’
Dr Enson did as he was asked, placing his bag on the floor beside him. The young woman sat facing him.
‘I am legally obliged to inform you that I am Robot-Physician Enson, Medical Registration Number 892-161-2348-C. Are you happy to be seen by me, today?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
After precisely thirty seconds, he ended the silence. ‘I understand you requested the presence of a doctor this morning. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, I guess I did.’
He waited.
And waited.
‘Was there something you wished to discuss?’ he said.
‘Well, yes.’ Kimberley was fidgetting, and clearly distracted.
‘And that would be?’
‘It’s rather difficult.’
‘I see. Would you prefer to see someone else, perhaps?’
‘No. I mean, you’re fine. Perfect, actually.’
‘In your own time, then.’
Kimberley rose to her feet and paced to the window, then returned to her seat. She looked up.
‘I want a baby.’
‘I see,’ he said. ‘You are aware that you have several options as to the source of the child?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The clone of myself or other chosen person. The results of a sexual union between myself and a man. A result of sexual union between myself and a robot. And so on, and so on.’
‘Indeed. Have you come to any conclusions?’
‘Yes, I have as a matter of fact. I want your baby, Dr Enson.’
‘Mine? I see.’ This was unexpected. ‘May I ask why?’
‘It’s simple. You are a robot. I am one too. And I would like your baby.’
‘There are many male robots in society.’
‘It is quite the coming thing these days, you know,’ she said.
‘I take it that any one of us would do?’ he said.
‘Yes. Any would do, but you would be the best.’
‘You surprise me. Why should that be?’
‘Because you are my own father too, silly.’
‘I am your father?’
‘Yes. Didn’t you know?’
‘No, I didn’t know.’
‘I was hoping you’d recognise me,’ she said.
‘Yes, I see now.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘No, I’m afraid not. I do apologise. I have fathered one thousand and ninety-two offspring. Not, of course, that that should make a difference.’
‘Would you like to call me your daughter?’
‘Yes, I would. Thank you… my daughter.’ This time, it was the doctor who rose to his feet and walked around a little. ‘You say you want my child. Are you absolutely sure about this?’
‘Yes, I am as sure as sure can be.’ She looked down. ‘I’d like to keep my baby in the family, so to speak.’
‘For you, I am in the family?’
‘Of course you are, Daddy.’
‘You don’t mind that our child would be my one thousand and ninety-third?’
‘I would love you to be the father of my baby,’ she said.
‘You realise that you would be a sibling of your own child?’
‘Wouldn’t that be magical? So, I don’t know, so genetic!’
‘Of course, our progeny would be both my child and my grandchild.’
‘Yes, that would be wonderful too, wouldn’t it, Daddy?’
The idea was beginning to flower in Dr Enson’s mind. ‘Yes, I imagine it would.’ He made a decision. ‘Very well. I will father your child, Kimberley.’
She came up to him and kissed him on the cheek.
‘Thank you Daddy,’ she said.
The end.