"I had to have someone," Isobel cried. "I had to have someone who was kind to me. You liked what I liked. You could talk to me of something besides machines. Machines do everything now. But you could talk to me of art, music, beauty."
"My creator taught me those things. Taught me to care for those things in the museum. I would miss them if they were taken away."
"Yes." Sudden tears stung Isobel's eyes. No one would miss her. No one would care about her.
"I will miss you too, Isobel. I will miss you very much."
"As much as the things in the museum?"
"As much as those. More."
Isobel stood up, leaned over and kissed the metal cheek of the one opposite her. "Then it was worth it."
"All prisoners assemble on the runway," a harsh voice boomed over the loudspeaker.
"Perhaps someday I can learn to return love," the robot said.
"You have done more than that. You have made me happy."