MaidBot or GuestBot? by Robert Nowall The MaidBot, who gave her name as Marie, did not understand. “But how can you be assigned as a guest at Casa Maldita Resort if your skin is plated like a MaidBot?” I groaned. My skin was against me. I was a guest of the resort, not another MaidBot. Telling Marie of my accident and reconstruction sunk in, but just so far. Pointing out that she wore the resort’s standard black maid outfit, a blouse and dress with white trim and white apron, while I wore my usual outfit of old pajama top without buttons and elastic-waistband bottom that came up to mid-calf, did not make much of an impression, either. The one variation I could notice were wigs. They varied from black to blonde to brunette, but were always about the same length. Every MaidBot---every robot I had seen---was the same height, five foot ten, the same dimensions, the same apparent female appearance. And the same skin plating, tanned-pink with dark material between. Just as I was. I had