DRAGONs of Silicon Valley

There weren't always DRAGONs in the Valley. Before you start getting images of fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding, knight-defeating cousins of dinosaurs, let me clarify a few things.

1. After World War III nearly destroyed the planet in 3003, Neoearth was established. There were no longer countries or borders.

2. Women outnumbered men 5 to 1, because we were offered priority in bunkers when the nuclear fight began.

3. Neoearth was run with technology, which brings me back to DRAGONs.

DRAGON stands for: Dashing Robotic Assistant Gentleman Of Neoearth. I, Dr. Andrea Martinson, was on the development team here in Silicon Valley when the first DRAGON came out. I was so proud of Henry. He had a few minor glitches, such as his propensity to parrot people, but once we cleaned up the programing, we started mass production. Even working 24 hours a day, our factories couldn't make them fast enough.

DRAGONs were somewhat lifelike even then, but it didn't take long for my team to make them indistinguishable from real men. Customers could choose age, hair and eye color, and body type.

My partner at Android Life First (ALF) was Dr. Elizabeth Sims. One day, she laughed and said, "Wouldn't it be cool if we could get DRAGONs to procreate and do away with human men altogether?"

I chuckled and replied, "Beth! That's crazy talk." Rolling my eyes, I inquired, "Besides, where would the DNA and sperm come from?"

She waved a dismissive hand and said, "That's the easy part. We've been storing DNA since just before the war. Technically, if women wanted to do without men, they could choose their babies in a lab, but most women still want the pleasure of a body in bed." She shrugged as if she was talking about the weather. "I just have to make DRAGONs fully functional and make sure the sperm delivery system chooses only female eggs."

I said, "Now I know you're crazy. Why would you want to do that?"

"Come on Andrea," she scoffed, "You know that men were responsible for every war ever waged. They lie, they cheat, they hurt people, and to top it off, they stink. Even YOU can't deny that."

I raised my eyebrows and said, "Beth, I'm sure women have caused wars, and they certainly do all those other things. Sometimes we even stink."

"Perhaps," she smirked, "but the difference is that women are willing to wash themselves."

By then, it had been put into law that every man had to show his palm when requested. Just below the thumb line, DRAGONs had a Link Code (LC) which - when scanned - showed how long ago and at which plant they had been manufactured.

If you knew where else to look - namely, on the bottom of his foot - you could also find a serial number.

A week later, my friends, Cindy and Judy, introduced me to a real man, Steve Jobson. He was a programmer, working on a computer which would interface with a person’s eye. We talked well into the night about art, music and sports. Steve was witty, humorous, and kind. All that, and he was handsome too. It didn't take me long to fall for him. The first time we made love, I couldn’t believe how giving and skilled he was.

In the following months, Steve and I went everywhere together. We teleported to France to watch the rebuilding of the Eiffel Tower. We took a joyride into space. We watched the birth of some cloned extinct tigers together. I kept hoping he would commit to our relationship longterm.

One Saturday night, Steve took me to a fancy restaurant and got down on a knee with a beautiful synthetic diamond ring in hand. Trembling before he said the words, I was ecstatic.

Then, two mornings later, while he was sleeping, his foot was sticking out from the bottom of the sheet. There, on the bottom of his left foot, was a serial number.

I had fallen for a DRAGON who had no LC on his palm. I knew who was responsible, but could I put a stop to her madness?