The Last Fembot

by KT McColl

  I would go back to her. I knew it. And I knew that it would probably not be innocent this time.

  It occurred to me just how long it had been since I'd last felt this way, and the thought sobered me immediately. This was the lust the Sorority warned against, and I knew from experience that nothing good could come of it. Ultimately, lust exacted payment. Back then, I didn't know that. I couldn't have and hadn't been prepared for the price. I was older now and knew the risks intimately.

  I wondered if there was any way it would be worth it.

  As I approached the lights of Lowville, I thought of the last time...

  "Do you have a woman, Jude?"

  As usual, she wore a white dress. It seemed tighter today, encasing her body like a second skin, and I couldn't help but to discern her shape beneath it. I met her eye. I wasn't used to such directness from anyone, let alone a woman. "There aren't many," I said.

  Abigail's brow furrowed. There were far more men than women in Lowville and the latter were a precious commodity. It sounded crass to call them that, but supply and demand made it so. My peers, those who could barely support themselves, had no hope beyond what they could pay for by the hour. I hadn't availed myself of that particular comfort, thinking the cost too high, but that was before I really knew what it was all about. Maybe when I rose in rank, earned a little more... maybe then I might find myself desirable to one of the few honest women who called Lowville home. Until then, I worked and saved and sat with Sol on his porch and listened to stories of back in the day.

  "I'm surprised," said Abigail. I didn't know whether she was surprised at the demographics or at my lack of female companionship. I didn't have the nerve to ask.

  I looked up at the motes of dust that sparkled in the light that streamed in between the barn boards.

  She'd asked me to show her around after checking on her foal. I was far from the most qualified to do so and said as much. She ignored my protests and I let it drop.

  We wandered around the farm until she said that she wanted to have a look at the barn. I'd no idea what was so special about the barn but she seemed intent, so I hurried after her.

  Now Abigail stood on the edge of the loft and looked down. I wished I could have had a photograph of the moment, her feminine form in a white dress contrasting against the dusky interior of the barn.

  "I've never jumped into a pile of hay."

  "I wouldn't. You don't know what's hidden there. Last year a kid nearly impaled himself on a pitchfork"

  "It's worth the risk, don't you think?"

  "No."

  She turned to me, scrunched her nose, and made to leap. I quickly grabbed her by the waist and tossed her back onto the hay. She laughed.

  "I'm serious," I said.

  She grabbed the back of my head pulled me to her, smothering any further words of caution with her lips.

  It was my first.

  She insinuated her tongue between my lips and I was shocked. I hadn't known this to be a thing. It was far more intimate than a kiss, which I thought was already pretty intimate. More than that, it was a gesture far more personal than I'd ever experienced, a breathtaking crossing of the line that I embraced wholeheartedly despite the danger. That I was doing this with a Sister didn't fully occur to me until much later, when I realized what a foolish, forbidden dance I'd been engaged in.

  But at that moment, I was lost to the playing of tongues and the intense dizzying arousal the act had unleashed. Our limbs tangled and I stripped the bonnet from her head in my desire to bury my hand in her hair.

  At length she withdrew, flushed and smiling. "Whoa, tiger," she laughed.

  "Did I do something wrong?"

  "No. You're perfect."

  She grew serious then and appeared to be debating something. After a moment she took my hand and placed it over a breast. It was one of life's ironies that minutes after I'd been the voice of caution, I was now the one in a position of danger. She was a Sister, after all, and if anyone found us in this position, I had no doubt in my mind how it would play out.

  My hand rested on her breast and I could discern the softness there, the breaths that caused it to rise and fall beneath my hand. She's a Sister, I said to myself. Even then I couldn't believe it.

  She met my eye and unbuttoned the top of her dress, revealing the cleft between her breasts. She moved my hand beneath the fabric. Part of me quailed while the other part... well, the other part felt an intense stirring as I kneaded the softness that I found. I felt the relative hardness of her nipple, a pebble beneath my palm. I brushed it with my fingers and was rewarded by a gasp from Abigail. I stopped, alarmed.

  "That's nice," she whispered.

  It was also wrong, but it no longer mattered. I moved to unbutton her dress completely, and she shimmied her shoulders to allow me to pull the fabric down to her waist, pulling her arms from the sleeves. She relaxed against the hay and I looked at her. She smiled a little self-consciously and allowed me to take in her body. So pale that it almost glowed. So unlike those who lived in Lowville under the sun. Small nipples, puckered and pink, atop generous mounds.

  "You're beautiful," I whispered.

  She took the compliment without a word. Her eyes shone.

  I lowered my head and took a nipple into my mouth as though I'd done this before. This time her breath hitched and she raised her chest against me as she let out a raspy moan. I moved to the other breast while my hand kneaded the one my lips had left.

  She worked a leg between mine and raised it slightly, pressing it against my groin. This time it was I who moaned and pressed back into her in response.

  It was a farmer entering the barn that saved us. At the time, I didn't know whether to thank or curse him for the intrusion. Abigail slowly buttoned up her dress as we waited for him to leave. I already missed the sight of her nudity. We hid in the loft, holding hands, until the farmer finally closed the door behind him. By then, the ardor had passed, replaced by the stark reality of what we had done.

  "Want to jump off the loft now?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

  I felt an overwhelming desire to be with someone. It wasn't that I wanted to divulge the secret of Jessie, but between fembots and ghosts, I needed some human company. Someone to ground me before I went home to what promised to be a sleepless night.

  My route home took me past Abigail's. No light came from beneath her door and I hoped she was asleep. I walked a short distance further to Rabbit's hut in the hope that he would still be awake.

  As I neared, I saw a furtive shadow slipping from his front door. I stopped and moved into the deeper darkness. As the figure appeared briefly in a patch of weak moonlight, I saw the unmistakable uniform of a Lozen.

  My first thought was that some harm had come to Rabbit. There was no good reason for a single Lozen to be here at this time of night, or at any time for that matter. If the Sorority had been intent on doing harm, they would have done so en masse, with a truckload of force. I watched the Lozen slip away, the very picture of furtiveness. No, this wasn't some kind of official action. This was something else entirely.

  When I was sure that the Lozen was gone, I approached. I could see dim lamplight behind the thin curtains.

  Rabbit looked frightened when he answered my knock and his face melted into relief when he saw who it was.

  "What's going on?" I asked, following him into his spartan digs. The unmistakable aroma of sex hung in the air.

  "Kind of late for a visit," he said.

  "Evidently not."

  Realization dawned on his face. "You saw her."

  I nodded. "And if I saw her, anyone could have."

  He sat down heavily on the rumpled bed. "Shit," he said.

  It was as clear as day. As afraid as I'd been of some nefarious reason for the Lozen's presence, this was infinitely worse. Somewhat uncharitably given my own history, I thought how it could be so, what twisted confluence of events would bring together a Lozen and a lowly farmhand. "You're fucking a Lozen?"

&
nbsp; He winced. "She's nice."

  "Has this been going on for long?"

  "Only since the atonement."

  "Weeks, then..."

  His lips formed into a private, self-indulgent smile, teeth white against the shadowed mahogany of his face. "Yeah."

  "How?"

  "First we get undressed..."

  "That's not what I mean!"

  Rabbit laughed and then grew serious. "She felt bad for me after the atonement. She said that I hadn't done anything wrong, not really. She's not one of them, she said."

  "The prod and the uniform say different."

  "She has to keep up appearances. She doesn't wear the uniform in..." He stopped and cursed softly under his breath.

  "What do you hope to come of this? There is no happily ever after, not when we deal with them," I said, giving a vague nod in the direction of the city.

  "I'll take my moment of happiness and I'll accept what comes after."

  We sat there for several minutes, not saying anything. I knew that these things never ended well. There was no way they could. And I knew, perhaps better than most, how powerful an impulse it was to grasp at even the slightest of straws. I also knew better than most how futile it was to fight against it. "You'll get caught, you know."

  "We won't."

  "Everyone does. She'll be excommunicated or worse, and you'll be punished so that your atonement will seem like a tickle fight."

  "It's worth it," he said.

  I'd thought the same once, I remembered.

  "We'll run away together," he said, grasping at the next straw that drifted by.

  It was clear that he hadn't thought things through. It was something we evidently had in common. I had my own dangerous secret in an abandoned house.

  I was about to launch into the myriad reasons why the path he was on could only lead to disaster, but I stopped myself. He looked happy despite my attempt to breathe a little reality into the fragile fantasy he'd constructed. Besides, who was I to quash his dreams, deny him this tiny bit of pleasure?

  "Just be careful," I said.

  "You worry too much, man," he said, clapping me on the back. The words were spoken lightly, but I could tell that he was worried now.

  I regretted my part in that.

  Chapter 9

  Early the next morning, I woke to a commotion. My first thought was that they had come to get me, but the noise was too far away.

  I quickly pulled on my clothes and went outside. In the weak light of dawn, I saw half a dozen Lozen vehicles parked haphazardly outside Abigail's house. Heavily armed guards formed a perimeter around it, keeping the onlookers at bay. I arrived just in time to see Abigail marched out between two burly Lozen.

  Despite having been a Sister, Abigail had earned the grudging respect of those in Lowville. While the mark of sin didn't exactly identify her as one of them, it certainly marked her as outside of the Sorority, which was almost as good. She'd made it a point of helping those in the community who needed it and had, over the years, made a place for herself in Lowville.

  A crowd had assembled. Some were merely curious while others appeared to be angry and scowled at the show of force. The timing of this action was suspicious. This could have been done during the day when half of the population would have been in the field. The Sorority had to have known that. Maybe that was the point -- a show of force, a callous disregard for the unrest that an arrest might cause.

  Abigail was directed to a waiting Sister.

  Aisha smiled. "Good morning," she said.

  Abigail said nothing.

  The Sister looked around the street, at the Lozen guards and the dozens of onlookers clustered about. Evidently satisfied, she returned her attention to Abigail and gave her a look that was equal parts amusement and malice. In a firm, loud voice, she said, "You have been accused of disreputable conduct."

  For a second or two, there was no sound. And then, a murmur of incomprehension and anger rippled through the crowd. As transgressions went, it was meaningless. Arresting someone for it was unprecedented. By the city's own definition of us, we were already disreputable given where and how we lived. As far as the conduct went, there were very few among us who could claim virtue.

  Then why Abigail? Why now?

  An angry, dissonant murmur rose from the onlookers, and I saw the guards tighten their hands on their weapons.

  Realization and surprise crossed Abigail's face. "What? By whom?"

  Aisha's glance flickered to someone in the crowd and then back to Abigail. I caught sight of Adams just before he ducked out of sight. "That's not your concern."

  In that instant, I saw red and my pulse roared in my head. Adams. Was this how he sought to get even with me?

  "That's nice," said Abigail. "Disreputable conduct. What have you left me?"

  "Your pride."

  "No, the city took that too."

  "You sold it."

  Those three words struck her like a blow. Her pain distracted me for a moment from my own fury. I watched and saw Abigail collapse in on herself. In the silent seconds that followed, she didn't cry. She didn't proclaim her innocence or beg for mercy. She slumped and then, by force of will, straightened. Glaring at Aisha, she held out her wrists.

  "That won't be necessary," said Aisha. "I'm sure you'll behave."

  "Can you be sure?"

  Aisha considered. Finally, she asked one of the Lozen to cuff her. While Abigail was being secured, Aisha scanned the crowd, saw me, and paused.

  This time, I couldn't just watch. I took a step forward, pushing between two Lozen guards in an attempt to reach Abigail for all the good that would do. It was dumb and futile as all such gestures are. But I needed her to know.

  That was as far as I got. A Lozen, Rabbit's green-eyed lover, pressed her prod to my side and my world short circuited. The next thing I knew, I was breathing dust, my perspective that of an insect. I watched helplessly as Abigail disappeared into the waiting truck, flanked by a pair of guards.

  "Ma'am," called a voice from above me.

  "Leave him," came the response.

  I felt slender fingers at my throat and it took me a moment to realize that they were feeling for a pulse. They could have strangled me at that point for all I cared.

  "I'm sorry," whispered the Lozen.

  Fuck you, I raged. It was probably lucky that I was incapable of speech.

  The knife at his throat finally got his attention. It had been easy to get into his hut and sneak up on him. In fact, I was surprised he hadn't found somewhere else to be. The air around him was rank with the smell of the cheap shine. He was probably still half in the bag and it took him a while to wake to the edge of the blade. When he did come to his senses, he thrashed.

  "I wouldn't move too much," I said, pressing the blade down.

  I was being stupid, of course. While he was alone now, the man had a crew and friends who could just as easily find me alone and vulnerable one day. But I was past caring.

  I'd spent the day in the field, fuming. My crew was wise to keep away from me, though Rabbit did make an attempt.

  He gave voice to my own suspicion that there was more going on than a simple vice sweep. Abigail had been careful. She wasn't the only one in Lowville who did distasteful things to survive and certainly wasn't the most brazen about it. There were a dozen women who might have been more deserving of attention, not to mention the men who sought their comfort.

  I returned my attention to Adams. "Are you working for the Sorority?"

  "What?"

  "I saw the way Aisha looked at you when they took Abigail away."

  I could see in the movement of his eyes how he was thinking. Tell the truth or lie? In the end he let out the breath he'd been holding and looked at me. "They needed confirmation."

  "They needed a rat."

  He nodded slightly. "They didn't leave me a choice."

  I averted my face to avoid his breath. So they had something on him. They had something on everyone. I didn't b
other to ask what it was, what could be so bad to entrap an innocent. Instead, I asked, "Why now? Why would they care now?"

  "It's not Abigail they're after..."

  Those words gave me pause.

  "It's you. Sister Aisha has it in for you. What did you do to her?"

  "Nothing."

  Adams grinned, emboldened by my confusion. "Look, I'm really sorry about Abigail. I liked her. I just confirmed what they already knew. If not me, then it would have been someone else. I'm not the only one..."

  "Shut up."

  "It's just... a man has his needs, you know?"

  "I said shut up."

  Sister Aisha... For the life of me, I couldn't think what I had done to deserve the attention. If she was truly after me, I wished she'd have dealt with me directly rather than cutting around the edges.

  "I'm sorry, man."

  I reluctantly removed the knife. Adams might have been weaving a tale, but I didn't think so. "Why is she so interested in me?"

  He rubbed his throat and came away with a smudge of blood on his fingers. He glared at me. "They -- the Lozen, I mean -- asked me if you two were still close, how important she was to you. I told them I didn't know, not really, but that you did help her out some."

  "That's it?"

  He nodded. "I swear."

  I searched his face for any sign of a lie and found none. Watching him closely, I sheathed my blade and made to leave.

  "I'd watch your back," he said.

  I turned, hand moving to the blade again.

  "Not me, man. Her."

  Chapter 10

  For the rest of the week, I went about my business in the fields mutely, fearing that anything beyond the mindless physical routine of work would cause me to snap. Maybe it was my imagination, but there was always a Lozen nearby, observing. Despite my exhaustion, sleepless nights left me with a restless energy. I had to get out of Lowville. The place pressed down on me, the futility of it all an unbearable weight. The Sorority would note my absence at church but I didn't care. It was reckless and might just give Aisha a reason to lower the boom on me, but I couldn't see myself sitting through another endless sermon. I was done with that.