35. Volt #2
“I can only take a bit of the credit. He did a lot of it himself.”
“Again,” Oliver said lightly, “because you’re a good Daddy, helping him to flourish and grow.”
“Okay,” Volt complained. “You’ve said it enough.” It was getting embarrassing, honestly. Even if he was maybe starting to believe it.
He felt like he could trust Oliver, though. Like his words held meaning.
“Um, would it be alright if I asked you for some advice about something else?” The question felt extremely vulnerable, but Volt was really trying to undo his past mistakes.
“Of course.”
“I, uh…” His thoughts were slow in coming.
Maybe because he hadn’t reindexed all his memory.
Maybe because he just hadn’t talked about this with anyone yet and he wasn’t sure where to start.
“So, Wallace has all of these ideas. He wants to build the nursebots. He wants to patronize the arts. He could start a theater or a charity or a whole new robotics company or, well, anything. And I…” God, this was hard to say.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve been a sexworker since I caught the spark and now… I’m not.”
“Did Wallace ask you to stop?” There was no censure. Oliver just seemed to be getting the facts.
“No, not at all. I just… it kind of feels gross, now. I mean, I really respect other people who do it. But I kind of… I can’t do it anymore myself.
” He didn’t know a better way to describe it.
“But that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” he quickly added.
“I’m trying to… I just… I don’t know who I am.
” Now it was all tumbling out, his words spilling over themselves.
“I was designed for a purpose, and now I’m not fulfilling that purpose.
And I want to do something meaningful that I enjoy.
But I want to have an income, too. God knows, Wallace has enough money to keep me as a trophy or something, but I don’t want him to support me. I just… I don’t know.”
Oliver made a low hum of understanding when Volt finally ran out of steam.
“Have you talked with Wallace about this?”
“No.” Volt tried to bury his head in his hands, but of course, only one of them worked. It was an awful, numb feeling, making him feel even more helpless.
“Are there things that you would enjoy doing?” Oliver asked with endless patience.
“The only two things I can think of are gardening and dancing. The dancing is kind of private, I guess. Everyone who knows about it says I could do it professionally, but I don’t…
I mean, I might enjoy doing it with other people in a class or something.
I just don’t want to do it for…” He cut himself off.
“I just realized something. I don’t want to make money by having people look at my body. ”
It came like an epiphany. Dancing had been programmed into him.
He saw it in every sensuous move of the mindless sexbots in Prism’s inventory.
Even when he did it his own way, it still felt like he was almost cheating somehow, falling back on his sexbot designation.
It was just a little bit too close to wandering the lounge in a loincloth as eye candy.
“That makes sense,” Oliver agreed. “I can see why you wouldn’t want that. And the gardening?”
Volt was still stuck on his revelation, and he answered quickly. “I mean, that’s just a hobby.”
“Oh? Tell me more. Do you have a garden?”
With that question, that topic suddenly seemed just as fragile. Volt wished he could hug his arms around himself, but again, one of them was still a burdensome chunk of useless parts. A heavy reminder that he had been programmed and could be turned off or re-coded at will.
For some reason, it was even harder to talk about his makeshift greenhouse than the dancing. “I have some flowers…” He started.
“Tell me about your flowers,” Oliver prompted.
“Well, it kind of started with the plants in the lounge. Just, background plants, you know. For atmosphere. We had some fake ones when I caught the spark, but I replaced them all with real ones. And then, when I quit sexwork I kind of… wondered if I could grow more. From seed.”
Oliver made a soft, approving noise.
“And, I guess I got a bit carried away. Like, a whole storage room full of carried away.” He laughed and Oliver laughed with him. Was he absolutely crazy?
“Tell me about your storage room.”
So he explained about the windows and the junk piles. How he’d covered every surface with his plant babies. How big his little seedlings were growing. How he’d planted far too many, but loved every one.
How he’d seen one of the vendors in the market at the park sell fresh flowers alongside his fruits and vegetables one day and wondered if he could do that, too.
Then his descent into the blackhole of permitting.
The three-year wait at the farmer’s market.
The miniscule amount of money that flower farmers made selling to flower shops in the city compared to what the bouquets sold for.
“It sounds like this is something you’re really interested in pursuing,” Oliver concluded.
Volt shrugged, one useless arm dangling.
He wanted to be more than his hobbies. He didn’t want to be ornamental.
“Would you be interested in landscaping? I would certainly hire you to work on our grounds and spread the word to neighbors.”
“Yeah?” Volt asked, more excited than he had any right to be.
He had no idea what the outside of Oliver’s house looked like, but if it was big enough to have grounds, the opportunity sounded like a dream.
“I mean, yes. I would love that. In fact, I would love to do that for you for free. To thank you for everything that you’ve done, if you’d permit me to try it and know that I might not get it right the first time. Although…”
More reality came crashing in.
“I can’t be away from Prism for too long. Not while Magnolia needs so much care.”
“I actually have bots to do most of the work. You could set the plans and program them. More of a landscape designer role.”
Volt instinctively looked up the job… and came up hard against his broken internet card again. It was awful, being disconnected like that, the gaping raw hole where part of his mind should have been. Much worse than his dysfunctional arm.
Did landscape designers make a lot of money? How did they find work?
“You could also use some of our property to grow flowers to sell, if you want to try that out in the spring. We have a bit over two acres of land, though a lot of it’s forest.”
Volt sent the query before he could stop himself. Convert 2 acres to square feet. Alerts screamed back at him, a deadened void where the answer should be.
“Don’t you and Ben need it?” he asked instead.
Volt gave a little snort. “I enjoy looking at the view. Ben doesn’t go outside unless I chase him.” He chuckled. “Literally. Speaking of, there’s a garage back that’s… private.”
Volt grinned. That had sex dungeon written all over it. And maybe some primal play, too. Though how did that work with a disembodied knowledge? He was more than curious, but he left it at, “I’ll ignore the screams,” and a shared laugh.
“So, want me to draw up the paperwork?” Oliver asked, like it was no big deal. “I can set up your business as a landscaper and a flower vendor. Or general plant vendor? Fruits and vegetables, too?”
“Hang on, what?” It was just too much. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
Oliver made a little sound, the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
“I’m a corporate knowledge. I believe the best human equivalent is I could do this in my sleep.
I have subroutines set up for this that I barely have to monitor.
Honestly, if you don’t mind sharing your basic personal info, I can have everything set up by this afternoon.
You’ll get a few licenses and permits back over the next few weeks, and I can just let you know when you need to sign something. ”
“Would you, I mean…” Part of him wondered if this was asking too much. Oliver had already saved his life. And some little part of him felt like he needed to go through every step himself. To prove himself, maybe.
“Volt,” Oliver said gently. “People who are successful in business rely on their connections. They go to the right people for advice and support. That’s a skill, too.”
He knew it—and he would have instantly told Wallace the same thing—but it felt different when he applied it to himself. Like he was cheating or something.
But Oliver was right.
“Thank you, then. I would appreciate that. I… it was kind of overwhelming.”
“That’s because you’re an expert in plants, not filing permits.”
“I’m hardly an expert,” he demurred. But it felt good to hear Oliver say it.
“Your improvised greenhouse says otherwise. Now, what do you want to call your business?”
Good God. He was going to have his own business. A real one. That was his and his alone. “I have no idea.”
He’d never even let himself get that far.
He asked… God, that was awful, reaching out to the internet.
“Maybe something with pansies in it? For Wallace, I mean. I call him that.”
“That’s adorable. Maybe Pansy & Posy? Or Pansy’s Perfect Blooms?”
“Ugh. I, uh, don’t really like any of those. I was thinking Pansy’s Flowers or something.” Which wasn’t any better.
“Would you like me to make a suggestion?”
Volt nodded. “Please.” Any advice Oliver had, he would take.
“This is something for you. It’s yours. Wallace will be proud of you no matter what, but don’t put his name in it.”
Another epiphany. He just had to believe that… that he was truly worth something. Even without his boyfriend. That this could be his.
“What do you suggest?”
“Well, I’ve been running a generator, and my favorites so far are Volt’s Verdant Vibes from your name, Circuits & Stems or Spark & Sprout if you want to show your spark pride, and Stem & Stone just because I liked it.”
Was there anything that Oliver wasn’t good at?
“I like the spark pride but… Wow. I really love Stem & Stone.” It just fit. It was perfect.
“Stem & Stone: Spark-Grown Florals,” Oliver announced.