Life is a Beautiful Thing (4-Book Box Set)

by Harmon Cooper

  Rinchi wasn’t the first ladyboy Humandroid he’d been with, but she was his favorite. Note: Antimeria still considers her a ‘she” because of her breasts. The usage of the pronoun was his little way of justifying the legitimacy of his sexual depravity, a national depravity that had metastasized since the advent of Internet pornography in the late twentieth century. From pixels to Proxima Worlds – porn never got old!

  Yeshi, Rinchi’s identical twin, wasn’t quite the specimen that Rinchi had become over the last year, yet she was equally as hot, especially when placed with Rinchi in Sapphic situations. Nothing like a Sapphic situation to wind down on the weekends.

  “I wish we could just move somewhere together,” he said, as Rinchi adjusted the levers on the pollution distributor. A perfumed smell emitted from the machine; the green ready light flickered on.

  Antimeria had yet to pull his custom Louis Vuitton pollution mask over his face. The mask, a piece limited to eleven copies worldwide, was made from a black rhino’s skull. While made out of the thick bone, the mask was surprisingly light due to an emulsifying enzyme applied to the inside of the skull which thinned the skull to that of a wafer. The skull, which had been stretched in a unique process called skull distending, was subsequently dipped in a carbon polymer which made it practically unbreakable. The ruby eye pieces were weaved to the mask using laser needles stitched through the bone by a team of Kenyans who worked in a two week weaving and re-strengthening period. (The deplorable factory conditions for the Kenyan workers have been the subject of many documentaries by human rights groups.)

  “Where would we move?” Rinchi asked in a soft voice muffled by her wolf mask. They had just finished having sex and Antimeria was lying with his back on the bed. His belly swelled and softened as he took deep breaths.

  “Well, if I had it my way, we would move to the Cayman Islands or something. You know, get away from the LA hustle and bustle. Find ourselves a little resort town.” Antimeria thought for a moment and started laughing. “Oh, fuck it, Rinchi. You know we can’t do that!” He tugged his pollution mask over his face.

  Rinchi sat with her back to him as he inhaled a large cloud of pollution. She reached for her panties, which had been tossed haphazardly onto the sleek lampshade connected by a double-jointed fixture to the wall. She turned, watching as Antimeria rolled his head to the left and to the right, engulfed in his intoxication.

  The fool. She could kill him right now and her only punishment would be life termination. Humans tended to forget this. What was life to an artificial being anyhow? What was life to a Humandroid? Rinchi wondered what Tyro – her therapist – would say if she told him about Antimeria’s jokey proposal for them to move to the Cayman Islands. Another Humandroid she knew had actually been purchased by a wealthy man and moved to Bali with him. It could be done; it had been done before.

  She reached forward to lift her bra from the floor. Antimeria’s Vienna sausage fingers grazed against her ass. Again. The human was probably on some sort of libido booster, she thought, turning back towards him and sitting on his lap. She affirmed her suspicion after performing a quick vitals scan – no way a normal human nearing fifty could get it up that quickly.

  He pointed at the bra and shook his head. The fat from his chin and neck jutted out of the mask like an overstuffed hamburger as his beefy skull moved from left to right.

  She understood the gesture and let the bra fall back to the floor. As she began to kiss his puffy nipples, she wondered for the millionth time what it felt like to use a pollution mask. What was it like to take pollutes? She’d seen Yeshi strap masks on multiple times and pretend to be intoxicated, but that was just for show. Yeshi couldn’t get intoxicated by pollutes and she knew it. Yeshi was convinced that by using the mask in front of other humans, it would trick them into to thinking she was actually one of their species. Pathetic.

  Rinchi had seen so many men and women intoxicated by pollutes that their faces had started to blend together. Night after night she sat around people fucked off various designer pollutes. It seemed as if a new flavor came out every week. Last week it was Ralph Lauren’s Equestrian Exhaust, Raoul Duke’s Skull Ammunition and Tommy Hilfiger’s Soiled Baby Jeans. This week she heard a group of businessmen blathering about the successful launch of Chanel’s Nuevo Carrion and Gucci’s Dolores Haze – always something new in the world of consumable materialism.

  There were other types of pollutes, such as the always popular Nepalese Burning Trash and then there were entheogenic pollutes, like Naked Lunch or Loathing Hunter or Leary Tim. Those ones made her clients hallucinate. Over the last ten years, the illegal exportation of entheogenic pollutes had been the focal point of a hundred trillion dollar War on Pollutes instigated by the Federal Corporate Government. The results of the war were yet to be determined, as the FCG also profited from the illegal distribution. Funny how that worked.

  As they were going at it, Antimeria began to doze off likely due to pollution consumption. Rinchi had seen it a dozen times before and knew exactly what to do. She propped him up against the headboard and took off his mask off. She set it gently in its custom case meant to resemble a classic LV trunk.

  Rinchi walked into the bathroom, retrieving one of those little white hotel towels used for God-knows-what. She warmed the towel with water and folded it in half. She returned and placed the towel across Antimeria’s eyes. She crossed his hands over his chest and scanned his body, again making sure none of his organs had shut down. Had there been an emergency, Rinchi would have to alert the authorities and administer revival techniques.

  While it had never happened to her, she heard about someone overdosing on pollutes and the blame being placed on the Humandroid escort who happened to be with the person at the time. If Rinchi was going to be terminated, she at least wanted to go out with a bang. She wasn’t planning on being retired like the other Humandroids.

  Violence towards humans. It was something she was supposedly programmed against, something that most humans thought was impossible, but the fact was, she was a Humandroid escort. Humandroid escorts had no violence governor preventing the infliction of pain because of the sexual demands of their clients. Normal Humandroids had this governor. The only Humandroids with fewer violence inhibitors than escorts were military droids, but even they had other measures to prevent them from rampages. Humandroid escorts had no such measures. They were true feats of machine learning.

  As she waited for Antimeria to wake from his pollute-induced spell, Rinchi thumbed through an electronic copy of Sky Magazine retrieved from his chamois leather briefcase. She sighed as the first article materialized:

  Traveling with Dogs

  When traveling abroad or to Mars, never forget man’s best friend. By Eduardo iPad

  Substation Six

  Talk about a bastion of cutting edge dog care and amenities for humans too, the Hilton/Ramada Substation Six features all the amenities you’ve come to expect from the largest hotel chain in the known universe. Custom doggie treats with your dog’s name on them, 22-karat gold ID tags, and bone shaped pillows – the Hilton/Ramada Substation Six halfway between Earth and Mars even features a custom dog pollution mask system. A first of its kind, the dog pollution mask system, or PUPs as it’s known on board, gives your dog all the comforts it needs to make its stay at the Hilton/Ramada just as legendary as yours.

  Philadelphia

  Sleep soundly knowing your beloved pooch is just as pampered as you are. At the Bittenhouse Hotel, the dogs are so treasured they even have their own entrance to the hotel. Call it doggy segregation, but these pooches deserve the best! For a fee, expect to have your favorite pup looked after 24/7 by an expert team of Humandroids. Hourly grooming, doggy manicures, canine massages, and doggy facials – this team of Humandroids covers all the bases. Add separate doggy bathrooms with gold inlayed toilets and no weight restrictions and you are looking at a revolutionary retreat for your four legged companion. There’s even a doggy gloryhole.

  Blufft
on, South Carolina

  Ever wonder what it would be like to stay in your own cottage while having your dog housed in a miniature cottage next door? Look no further! At the Palmetto Bluff Inn of Destiny, your dog has nearly 22,000 acres of parklands to roam. With around the clock service from a team of Russian-crafted Humandroids, you won’t have to worry about a thing when it comes to dog safety. Enjoy the multi-vitamin dog biscuits (which humans can eat too), the Boss satin dog beds, Hermes custom dog bowls, and the freshest Antarctica bottled water straight from what’s left of the glaciers to your prized pooch.

  Austin, Texas

  Howdy Y’all! Come on down to the music capital of the world and bring your four legged friend with you. Yeehaw! At the Rick Jackass Perry Come and Gettum Hotel, enjoy custom access to Lady Bird Lake through a private tunnel lined with imported Greek statues. Let your pup go where it pleases and let our staff do the dirty work. Fifteen dog lover suites overlook the capital and ten overlook Lady Bird Lake. Need some space? Let your dog use the custom puppy elevator which leads to a doggy playscape on the rooftop. All the amenities you’ve come to expect: custom dog biscuits, imported pooch cuisine, puppy massages, an expert Humandroid staff, doggie goodie bags and absolutely no size limit. Come one, come dog, and show your four legged friend a little southern hospitality!

  “Humans are so fucked,” Rinchi mumbled.

  TEN∞

  I awake and rub my eyes.

  My right fist is covered in blood; the mirror affixed to the headboard is smashed; there are fresh fingernail gashes up and down my thighs. Yeshi is lying in a heap on the floor. She’s bent forward, kneeling between her legs, naked.

  The pollution mask distributor cable has been ripped from the wall and one portion is wrapped around Yeshi’s neck. There are shards of mirror stuck in my chest and the pollution mask is nowhere to be found. One of her knee-high stockings is on my leg, ripped from the shin up and stained with drying blood. What in the fuck happened here?

  I look down at my chest and begin to pull out a few shards of glass. Blood trickles down to my waist. Yikes. I look at my reflection in the bloody shard and collapse back onto the bed. As I lie back on the bed, I notice the pollution mask hanging from the light fixture. My toxic muse. The light is situated just right to illuminate the green lenses.

  “Yeshi … ” My brain beats viciously against the inside of my skull. I feel weak and ready to vomit.

  “Yeshi … ” I say again, louder. All I can hear is the sound of a few transport vehicles and aeros speeding outside the window.

  “Yeshi … ” I nearly shout. Fuck, she must be dead. I close my eyes and sigh audibly. What the hell was I thinking? I cough, sit up slightly, and then fall back. How did things get so violent? More importantly – what the hell am I going to do with a dead body? How many people have pondered what to do with a dead body before?

  A hand grazes my leg. Alive! Alive! She’s alive!

  Her hand works its way from my ankle to my lacerated thigh. It makes its way to my stomach, just below my navel. It twirls there for a moment before moving to my rib cage. I breathe deeply, feeling blood surge to my groin area. I sit up and look at Yeshi. She’s naked and her body is completely unscathed. I see something dangling between her legs.

  “What in the fuck!?”

  “What’s wrong Meme?” she asks, retracting a little.

  “You have…” I rub my eyes. “You have a dick?”

  “What this?” she says, reaching down and flicking it to the left. “It’s not real.”

  “What the…” I throw my hand behind my head, hoping to find my underwear. I’ve got to get the fuck out of here. I start to backpedal, “I’m not a RepubCorp homophobe, but I definitely wasn’t … definitely didn’t think … I’m not into … ”

  Did she just say it wasn’t real? I look her over and finally realize what has happened. How could I be so stupid? Her voice, her perfect figure, her unscathed skin amidst all the shards of broken mirror – Yeshi is a Humandroid. Yeshi is a fucking ladyboy Humandroid which means … which means she’s also an escort!

  “Baby?” She crosses her legs, sweeps some of the mirror shards off the bed with her hand.

  “This is so fucked,” I say. I cover my eyes with my palm, hoping she’ll disappear.

  “Did we have sex?” I ask with my hand still over my eyes.

  Yeshi laughs. “What else do you think happened in here?” she smiles. “I like you Meme; you’re rough and big … ”

  “Please don’t say that,” I mumble, not sure how to take a dick size compliment from a Humandroid. I work with these goddamn things four days a week. You would think I could recognize one by now. Goddamn Walliburton for crafting such authentic machines. Goddamn pollutes, goddamn myself, and goddamn Walliburton again.

  Yeshi crawls her hand up my thigh and I slap it away. “This game again?” She leans forward, whipping her legs out from beneath her. A deranged look spreads across her bang-framed face. She carefully begins to waddle over to me as I cower further into the far corner of the bed. I can feel the shards of mirror going deeper into my ass as I scoot across them. Holy glass-in-my-ass, Batman!

  I’m a Humandroid therapist. I know what Humandroid escorts are capable of. I know that they have no violence governors.

  My palms clam up. I can hear my heart beating in my ears and feel my lips trembling. I have to figure a way out of here. I look to the door – too far. The window – our room is too high up to try that. Maybe I should smash through the wall. Impossible, plus, I feel weak. Should I try to kill her? No, she’ll likely go into a self-defense mode and will quickly overpower me.

  Yeshi hovers over me and sits down onto my lap. Within moments, she’s kissing my neck and … I’m letting her!

  “Why is your heart beating so fast?” she says, keeping one hand halfway around my neck. She’s scanning my vitals. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “No … ” I say, closing my eyes. “Of course I’m not. I’m just a little shocked.”

  ‘shocked?”

  I switch to my therapist tone. “I’m experiencing a sudden surge of post-party traumatic stress disorder, something that humans usually go through after the consumption of too many pollutes. I’m confused, and my head is beating like a crazed gorilla against the inside of my skull.”

  She starts to laugh and sits down deeper into my lap. “You’re funny.”

  “Why am I covered in blood? Why do you have some of my blood on your stomach? I’m a Humandroid therapist and therefore … therefore I cannot partake in any sort of illicit behavior with Humandroids. In fact I took an oath swearing not to. This is why my heart rate has increased, which I’m sure you’ve been monitoring, and this is why I’d like you to get off my lap.”

  “You’re a Humandroid therapist? You can’t partake?” she laughs.

  “Yes.”

  Her smile changes to astonishment. “Wait … you’re a Humandroid therapist and you didn’t know I was a Humandroid? I thought you were just a regular therapist, you know, for people.”

  “You should have scanned my life chip!”

  “I did,” she said, “you’re using a chip-masker.”

  I forgot that I’d installed a chip-masker before going to the club last night. “Well anyway, I’m sorry. The pollutes. I took too many entheogenic pollutes last night. Halloween has a way of unleashing the demon within me. Pandora ‘s Box was opened … ummm … It’s my own fault, not yours. You’re just doing your job.”

  She laughs again. This time her laugh has an edge to it. She positions her lower body on top of me and moves her face closer to mine. “I like you, Meme.”

  “You can’t like people,” I remind her, trying not to make eye contact.

  “You’re a Humandroid therapist and you couldn’t tell I was artificial.” She looks to the left; her eyes under her bangs are like black balls rolling beneath a floor-length curtain. She keeps her eyes shifted far to the left, thinking (or should I say mirroring the way humans think – Humandr
oids spend up to forty percent of their energy replicating human idiosyncrasies).

  “I was intoxicated … ” I remind her.

  “Rinchi won’t believe this,” she says, still with her eyes to the left.

  “Rinchi?”

  “My twin,” she says. “Well, we aren’t twins, but we’re identical. She was there last night, on the other side of you. She won’t believe me! Luckily we record everything.” She taps her long nail against her temple.

  “I know you do … ” I almost whimper. “Please … Please don’t … ”

  “Please what?” She hunches forward to kiss me. I try to pull away but she grabs the back of my head with her free hand.

  “Please … ” I say again, as she presses her lips into mine.

  “What’s wrong … never had both before?” She gestures towards her navel and flicks herself, himself, itself – whatever I’m not ready for this. This is not what I bargained for! I wanted to switch bodies with Nelly! I’m innocent in this regard! Don’t judge me, Reader!

  “It’s not that,” I say, which I quickly realize is a half-lie. I clear my throat. “Due to my position as a therapist, I refuse to have relationships with my client pool.”

  “But I’m not your client, Meme,” she whispers into my ear. Christ she is hot – what am I saying!?

  “I know, but you could be … ” I stare up at the ceiling and the pollution mask hanging from the light fixture. I feel a surge of blood rush to my groin. Not now. Not now. Not now.

  “I like you,” she whispers. “You’re a sexy man…”

  “You’re programmed to be seductive,” I tell her loudly. “You’re programmed to be any man or woman’s fantasy. You’re programmed, dammit!”