Benny the sex-bot salesman, also the company therapist, stretches his talents to creating a sexbot brothel that he has named, The Uncanny Valley Club. Unfortunately, his financial resources are limited to friends and colleagues, and he has come to Scottie, well known for her anti-sexbot campaigns and her cyborg enhancement engineering company, for the very big task of convincing her to invest in his new sexbot Brothel.
‘You pluck these ideas out of that scrubby little head of yours, Benny, and present them gold plated, just to get me on board, but this is no different to an average brothel, is it? I can’t see that there’s anything special about your new business.’
‘Scott, my business is different from all the others like it.’ Benny waves his hand gently across the room as if to display all the businesses that are just not quite as good as his is. ‘It’ll be a standout. We can grow a shit load of money from simple human vice. Listen to me. The Uncanny Valley Club will be the venue where punters can set their desires free, like wild animals tapping into their urges.’
‘Urges? I thought this was part of your therapy business?’
‘It is therapy. It’s next-level therapy. This is me hitting my potential. This is what I’m all about. I’m dragging the therapy trade into the future.’ Benny stands. His excitement at his plans has him all jittery. ‘It’s not called The Uncanny Valley Club for no reason. It’s all about the ‘uncanny’ moment, that dip in the robot-likeability graph, when you see a robot so lifelike that it gives you the creeps. That hideous little moment that defines the difference between robot and human—the absence of soul, your disgust, your fear and your fascination. It’s fake little face.’ Benny points at his own eyes and nose, and screws up his face. ‘You know what I mean, Scottie; you’ve felt it. The sense of deceit; the lack of trust. That’s where the lucrative Uncanny Valley moment is.’
‘Wait a minute, what happened to chicken soup for the soul?’
‘Troubled soul, Scottie; I said, “troubled soul”. This is the hinge where our clientele swing loose. What a goddamn release! They use it, they respond, they lash out and they release that pent-up techno-anger buried deep within. That little moment is so full of energy! It’s a heady mix of fascination and disgust, lust and hate—all those confusing emotions that live in that void. And we will exploit that little, black void of sexuality.’
‘Is this a joke, Benny? What kind of place is this?’
‘Scottie, nobody trusts a creepy little bot unless they know they control it, right? And how do we take control? We remove human morals. Let them do to it whatever the hell they want to do to it. Our club will give them permission to swing loose. Can’t you see it?’
Scottie’s mouth hangs open, speechless.
‘Listen, Scott, The Uncanny Valley Club will be known as the place to explore who we really are at our core.’ He leans in to catch her eye. ‘The punters can do whatever they like to their bot—no guilt, pure release and morality-free—an almighty cleansing of the soul. Do you see what this is, Scottie? Consequence out the window, do you understand? It’s a life-changing moment.’
Scottie’s face contorts with disgust.
‘Oh, the release,’ he says. ‘It’s so damn freeing.’ He lifts his arms into the air as though releasing doves. Benny sees in her face the wall she’s built up against this idea. He needs to make her want it. ‘And Scottie, let me tell you this much: this will happen whether you like it or not. This isn’t new. They exist in Japan and across Europe, and if you get on board with me, right now, you’ll control it in our part of the world. You, Scottie. I know this is what you want—to control this industry.’
Scottie says nothing. He holds his palms out to her and whispers her name. ‘Come on, Scott?’
He needs to get her over the line that she’s drawn for herself. ‘Imagine it, casino atmosphere, private rooms, music and social bots of every colour and proclivity; sturdy ones. You get what I’m saying don’t you? I don’t need to tell you what people are capable of given the chance. It’s exciting! Gives me a buzz just to think about it. All we need is the money. Your money.’
‘Why are you giving me this information, Benny? What you’re talking about is abuse. All you’ve done is give me a heads up to intervene and have you shut down. You’re an idiot, anyone tell you that?’
J. Proudfoot (2022) The Uncanny Valley Club