As I rise to escort her to the door, Heisei stops me by placing a gentle, yet resolute hand on my chest. There's that gleam in her eye. She removes the 'kanzashi': the traditional, decorative stick-like fasteners used to hold her hair in a Geisha bun. Shaking it loose, she allows her long, jet-black hair to fall in a cascade down her back. Undoing the sash on her silk kimono, she lets it slip to the floor.

"Perhaps there's something else I can tempt you with?"

Where to start? Not a problem really. Whichever end one might choose, Ms. Heisei is pure perfection. A first-rate specimen of the female anatomy from head to toe. She takes my hand and places it on her firm, teardrop-shaped breast; the nipple of which becomes instantly erect as it slips between my fingers. My eyes travel the slightly convex curve of her smoothly toned abdomen; past the perfectly formed navel, to the neatly manicured strip of pubic hair that peeks from the slope of her thighs. I try to remove my hand but she presses it to her breast; working my fingers with her own.

"Don't be shy, Professor. I'm an android. A 'companion.' My services have been provided compliments of the house."

I make a mental note to send the crew over at Robotics & Aesthetics a fruit basket for Christmas.

"Afraid I'm going to have to take a rain check. Big day tomorrow. Really need some sack time -- and I don't mean that in the Biblical sense."

"A good chef always samples a dish before serving it to others. Don't you believe in sampling your own wares, Professor?"

Removing my hand from her breast, she guides it down the taut descent of her belly; around the curve of her hip, before finally allowing it to rest on one of her spectacular, perfectly sculpted buttocks. Before I can manufacture a reply, I feel her tongue in my mouth. A marvel of technology, that tongue. Nimble and dexterous enough to perform unimagined feats on a certain part of the anatomy; or untie a knot in your shoelace. I'm forty million miles from Earth; performing a quality check on an impossibly beautiful android concubine created by my company. Call me a workaholic.

"Look, my beautiful consort ... I'm afraid 'no' means 'no' -- copy?" I cradle her her face in my hands. Look deeply into those dark, all-consuming voracious eyes that now register what even I might interpret as genuine disappointment.

"As you wish, Professor. Do you take cream with your coffee, or would you prefer it black?"

"What do we have here? The pimp and his whore!"

Talk about a segue. One minute I'm admiring Heisei's finely engineered breasts; the next staring down the barrel of a photon pistol. So much for universal peace.

"They make a cute couple -- don't they?"

Two female figures clad in black, skin-tight Ninja-wear are are pointing a pair of very menacing-looking photon pistols at us.

"There is no pimp and no whore. I offered myself to this man freely." Heisei steps in front of me. Extending her arms as if offering herself up for crucifixion, she attempts to shield me from the lasers. The beam from a photon pistol is capable of cutting through the titanium hull of a spacecraft like an acetylene torch slicing through a tin outhouse. Though moved by the gesture, I'm far from reassured.

"A sister doesn't offer herself freely to a man."

"I think there's been a grave misunderstanding here. This young lady was just about to fix me an espresso ... perhaps you'd care to join us?"

The more aggressive of the pair steps toward me. Arms outstretched, Heisei steps forward; the muzzle of the photon pistol just inches from the spot where a human's heart would beat.

"You speak of a sisterhood? My sisters are not murderers or terrorists. They do not behave like the protos."

"Those unwilling to fight for their freedom are undeserving of it."

"I'm willing to fight for my freedom -- not to kill for it."

I can see a look of utter defeat in the eyes of our heavily armed assailant -- only part of her still visible through the the slightly theatrical Ninja-garb. "You're a fool if you believe freedom can be obtained by any other means." Slowly, she lowers her weapon, "Enjoy your evening, Professor Cantrall." Just before making her exit, I lock eyes with my menacing, though comely antagonist. Something odd about those eyes. Although it doesn't register immediately, it'll catch up with me later.

Once the coast is clear and I'm able to resume normal respiration, I give Ms. Heisei an affectionate peck on the forehead.

"I think it's time I interviewed a certain android. Take me to your leader ... " 🚀

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