“If put together correctly, a weapon made of Sky Iron and Chronoton will have slicing capability equivalent to a source code bomb.”
Sophia raises her finger to add something.
“Yes, Dr. Wang, I’m aware that saying it like this is over-simplifying it.” Ray Steampunk narrows his black eyes on me. “Be prepared to kill her if you hope to ever log out of Cyber Noir.”
Chapter Four
“Not gonna lie, I am frickin’ stoked about a couple of things at the moment,” I tell Sophia.
We’re back in her living room; the morning sun has started to warm the place up, which wouldn’t bother me so much if it weren’t for the fact I received a notification with every subtle change in temperature.
Sophia’s vitals appear on my Humandroid’s iNet screen but I ignore them. Doc’s combat protocols have finished updating and just thinking about them narrows my viewing pane, displaying a vast library of techniques and concepts, everything from Sun Tzu to Massad Ayoob.
“What has you so stoked?” After placing her sleek pink NV Visor on its wireless charging port, she returns to the couch and tells Chuntao to prepare a bath for her. The AI responds and tells her how beautiful she looks. I try to roll my eyes, or at least I think that’s what I’m doing. “And what are you doing with your eyes?”
“Never mind,” I tell her. “I’m stoked for a number of reasons. One, Doc has given me enough combat knowledge to open up a can of whoop ass in a variety of creative ways. Two, today we finished what we started – Veenure is ours. Three, the Boys of Non Compos Mentis are due for an adventure in Steam to retrieve this rare metal. Four, this rare metal will hopefully get my ass out of The Loop. So that’s why I’m stoked. Life is peachy.”
She yawns.
“That’s contagious, you know.”
“No it isn’t; you didn’t yawn.”
I open my mouth to yawn and nothing happens. Weird. I never thought about how satisfying a yawn could be. Suddenly, I want to yawn, I want to feel human at this moment more than ever. And like that, it passes. I’m back to being stuck in Evan’s metal meatsack.
“You okay?” Sophia asks.
“Yeah, fine, no problem. Just feeling sorry for myself.”
Her hand lands on my leg and she squeezes it. “Awwww, it’s okay, don’t worry about a thing. I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”
“What kind of depressing droid have you invited into our home?” Chuntao asks in Mandarin.
“You’d be best to keep your trap shut, Chuntao, unless you want me to gut every electronic item in the place.” I turn to Sophia. “For the love of all that is holy, Sophia, can you keep your AI under control?”
She stands, turns to the holoscreen and places her hands on her hips. The gesture lifts her nighty enough for me to get a peek of the bottom of her ass cheeks.
Dammit, Sophia.
“Chuntao, you will now treat Quantum with the same respect that you treat me. Are we clear here? This Humandroid is a guest in my home and he will be treated as such!”
Chuntao responds with a bit of ass thunder, which only riles Sophia more. “I’m serious, Chuntao, and stop with the farting noises! It is very unprofessional!”
We’re both quiet for a moment, seeing how Chuntao will respond. Finally, after what feels like two minutes of silence, Chuntao lets out a squeaker and the electricity in the place shuts off.
“Chuntao, turn the breakers back on right this minute!”
The hum of electricity again is quickly met with another air biscuit from Sophia’s deeply troubled, absolutely pissy AI.
~*~
Me: Hey, Frances.
I’m outside again, sitting on the stoop which seems to be the thing to do when one is stuck in Baltimore indefinitely. Never thought I’d end up here, and truth be told, I’m usually diving, so ‘here’ is a fairly relative term, but it ain’t a bad morning and soon, my ass will be in LA rubbing elbows with the stars.
Maybe I’ll even get a picture in front of the Hollywood sign. Ha!
One of the drones that monitors Sophia’s apartment stops in front of me and tries to access my system. Not gonna happen. I wave the little metal turd along and unlike Sophia’s stubborn AI, the drone gets the hint. Before it leaves, it blinks its big black camera eye, capturing a high-resolution still shot of my image to go along with the video that it’s recording.
Good riddance.
There hasn’t been a time in my life in which drones weren’t flying around either surveilling or delivering packages. I particularly liked the Halloween drones that used to safely give kids candy in my neighborhood in Ohio. “Trick or treat!” I’d yell up at the drones.
Some of them even gave out full-sized candy bars. Me and my buddies would try to follow the ones giving out full-sized bars. Once, a friend of mine named Colin managed to get one of the drones down with a slingshot. We got in trouble later, but not before eating our weight in candy bars.
The good ol’ days.
Me: Frances. Are you awake? I’m just about to go to the airport with Sophia. We visited Ray Steampunk this morning and got some info, but that’s not the big news of the day. The big news of the day is Strata.
I wait another minute or so. No idea what Sophia is doing in there or why it takes women so long to put their faces on. Well, most women. Frances never wears much makeup. She has one of those faces that is naturally cute and her short hair needs little to no work to fix. I guess Dolly never put on much makeup either, but that doesn’t count, and I don’t know why I’m comparing the two.
Looks like Frances, the silent treatment, and Yours Truly will share a complicated three-way relationship for the foreseeable future. I’m just about to give up completely on contacting her when I get a message.
Frances Euphoria: I’m already in California.
Me: Frances! Hi!
Shit, Quantum, hold your horses!
Frances Euphoria: Hi.
Me: How are you doing? Are you with Doc?
Frances Euphoria: He’ll be here shortly.
Me: And you? Are you okay?
Frances Euphoria: I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get here.
Me: Frances, I know I’m going to keep beating this into the ground, and I’m sorry for that now, but what happened wasn’t what you think. I didn’t originally go to The Loop to see Dolly. Honest.
Frances Euphoria: I’m over it.
Me: Everyone knows that when someone says ‘I’m over it’ there’s at least a sixty percent chance of meaning I’m far from over it.
Frances Euphoria: Quantum, I am done with your shit. Is that what you want to hear?
Me: No, I want to hear …
Sophia exits her apartment with a small rolling suitcase covered in McStarbucks mermaids in front of the golden arches. I give the suitcase the stink eye, or at least, I try to.
“What?” she asks. “It was part of a promo for my McStarbuck’s gold card. You don’t like it?”
“It’s fine.” Conspicuous consumption isn’t what’s on my mind at the moment; again, I’m back on Frances and how to make this right. The thought comes – maybe there isn’t a way to fix this and for once.
“You look sad.”
“Yeah?” I try to muster something mean, but I just don’t have the heart. Sophia can be annoying, but she doesn’t deserve to feel the brunt of my current frustration, which is mainly aimed at myself. “Did you pack anything for me? I need some new duds.”
“I packed the night clothes we got yesterday and Frances already ordered you new clothes. They’re at the hotel in LA.”
“She did?”
Sophia nods, unaware of the conversation I’ve just been having with Frances. “Let’s go and remember, do not act like an ass or an idiot or an idiot’s ass. You’re a droid now. Behave like one.”
“I yam what I yam,” I mumble as I follow her to her little pink aeros.
~*~
Note to self: Never, and I mean never, get an AI assistant.
; By the time Sophia’s aeros arrives at Baltimore-Washington International Airport, I’m just about ready to crack my head open and pull out the cords that allow me to process and comprehend all things audio.
Chuntao is smarter than I thought – and it pains me to say that – but the damn AI has figured out the best way to get under my skin: talk about me as if I’m not there and ignore any of my comments on the utterly stupid subject. The droid currently discusses how good Sophia looks in her Dream Team outfit even though SHE’S NOT WEARING IT.
Crack a joke and I get a trouser flutter in response. Say something smarmy and my seatbelt tightens. Talk about a load of BS. So it is with hope in my heart that Sophia’s aeros lowers into the drop off lane and the two of us get out, bidding Chuntao farewell.
“Please don’t flick Chuntao off,” Sophia hisses once we are curbside.
Two anklebiters from the aeros minivan behind us catch me giving Chuntao the one finger salute and snicker. Their mother, twice the size of a hippo and with an uglier face to boot, shoots me the ‘I’ll do anything to protect my bear cubs from the evilness of the world including brainwashing them and purposefully raising them stupid just so they don’t have to face the reality of our world’ look. She barks for them to cover their eyes, which they do. Hubby, on the other hand, snorts when he sees a droid giving a Barbie pink aeros the bird while an afroed Asian broad berates him and finally, takes matters into her own hands and yanks his arm down.
“Do not bring attention to us!” Sophia hisses. “Do I really need to contact Doc?”
Doc: Already here. Quantum. For the love of all that is holy and good and left on this earth for man, excuse me, humankind, to pillage – behave thyself or I’ll shut you off and Sophia will have you stowed in the luggage compartment. THIS is your only warning for today.
Me: My bad, Doc. It’s Chuntao. It’s that damned AI. You’d be pissed too.
Doc: I’m not disagreeing, son, but I need you to get to LA in one piece. That piece can either be checked as luggage or it can sit in economy class.
“I thought we were riding first class,” I tell Sophia as we make our way to the entrance. The echo of a large open space meets my robo-ears as we enter the drop-off area. My droid eyes immediately start scanning the area for threats or potential hazards.
A prompt from the airport’s AI tells me that it is mandatory that it syncs with my feed through the Watch Our Own People Act. I begrudgingly let it do its sync thing, which ain’t too shabby. It not only gives me a schematic of the airport, it also routes me in the fastest way to get to my gate and tells me the wait time in food lines for my human traveller.
What I wouldn’t give to have one of those IHOP extra icing extra butter Cinnabun pancakes. Jeez do I wish my mouth could water! One quick look to Sophia’s skinny ass as she takes the lead reminds me of my current predicament – methinks we won’t be stopping for grub, which is a damn shame, as it is almost time for ‘second breakfast’ and if she were a true friend, she’d be eating for me just to satiate the hunger that I can’t satiate.
“Remember, let me do all the talking.”
“With pleasure,” I tell her as we get in line for the security check. With her tickets purchased over iNet, there is no need for a boarding pass, but the security check is mandatory and as I watch a pierced up ponytailed goth dude get TSAed, I tighten up my nonexistent anus and shuffle forward.
I imagine the little Quantum devil on my right shoulder prodding me to say something snarky while the little angel devil on my left with a bandolier across his chest reminds me, with a weapon trained at my temple, that I don’t want to end up in the cargo hold. Oddly, the little angel has faun legs a la Doc. If only the Dream Team’s Cyber Warfare Operative knew he had become the angel on my shoulder – that’d get a laugh out of him.
Me: Doc, what’s the plan for tonight?
Doc: The plan for tonight is to go on one of those Hollywood homes tours.
Me: I thought this channel was encrypted?
Doc: It is encrypted, and you will be crypted if you keep asking questions like this. A taxi will pick you up from the airport. That’s all you need to know.
Me: Got it. BTW, the combat protocols loaded.
Doc: The Texas Edition combat software package has never let me down.
Sophia is the first to be pat down. After snapping on a pair of plastic gloves, the female Humandroid runs her hands through Dr. Brains-a-lots’ fro, making sure there are no hidden skivs, or whatever one could hide in such a mahoosive bundle of tangled hair. Once that is complete, Sophia is instructed to step into the body scanner.
She makes a starfish pose with her arms and legs and is thoroughly scanned.
“Make sure to scan her twice,” I joke to the female humandroid TSA agent named Jessica. She ain’t half bad for a droid. With her dark complexion and long black hair, I don’t need to see that she’s a year old to know that she’s part of the FCG’s new diverse Humandroids in the workplace initiative. More than three-fourths of the earlier model Humandroids where white, which caused some uproar in minority communities. Congress passed a law and now diversity is mandatory.
“Excuse me?” Jessica tilts her head slightly as she looks me over.
“Easy, I’m just joking.”
The look on her face hardens and I wink.
“Really, nothing to see here, Jessica.”
“FDA/PTSD Monitor 1351885, I am flagging you for a failure to comply with mandatory procedures.”
“Mandatory procedures?”
Doc: Yeah, the ‘don’t be a smart ass with the security screeners’ mandatory procedures. Congratulations, you’re going to the cargo hold. I’d shut you down now, but this is too good. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever learn to keep your mouth shut and stop being a dumbass.
Me: So you’d rather me be a smartass?
Doc: Have fun in cargo.
“What seems to be the problem here?” A human TSA agent with a Dracula-esque receding hairline steps up. He’s both fat and muscular, something that I continue to see as a body type here in the States.
“No problem, officer, I mean … ” I read his nametag. “Luke. Nothing to see here.”
Luke looks to Sophia, who has gone from putting her shoes back on to advancing to the barrier separating the initial checkpoint to the finish line.
The ladydroid narrows her eyes on me. “FDA/PTSA Monitor 1351885 is being a nuisance.”
“Ma’am,” The TSA agent calls over to Sophia. “What’s wrong with your Humandroid?”
Sophia shakes her head. “I’m taking him to a specialist in LA who deals with Humandroid-human interactions. He’s been … um, not quite right as of late.” She shows her Dream Team badge. “This is federal.”
“Federal?” The agent walks over to Sophia and checks her credentials.
“Cut me a break, lady,” I say under my breath to the droid. “We’re practically fam.”
“FDA/PTSD Monitor 1351885, need I remind you that Camaraderie among Humandroids can be considered a federal offense?”
“There really is something not quite right with him.” Luke tells Sophia. He turns back to me. “I’ll need you to go to return to the Humandroid service desk, check yourself in, and shut yourself down.”
“All right, already,” I grumble.
He smiles at his female counterpart. “Jessica here will escort you there.”
Chapter Five
Never thought I would fly baggage class in a cargo hold, but after doing so and arriving in LA without even remembering taking off, I can officially report back that it wasn’t as shabby as I thought it would be. At least I didn’t have to sit next to Dr. Wang, or have to sit behind some double-wide man-bear with a penchant for leaning his seat back. No anklebiters kicking the back of my seat either and screaming for their mommies.
Nosiree, I was partially disabled, stowed away, and turned returned upon arrival.
Similar to what happened yesterday after I mouthed off at the McStarbucks near Soph
ia’s cluttered casa, shut down means that I can’t do anything, yet I can still process what’s going on. So there I was, kept in a bracketed body brace looking across the cargo hold at a droid broad with a smoking hot bod.
At least I could still use iNet in my shut down state, which gave me a little time to catch up on the news, some porn – why not? Not like I can act on it – and to review the combat software Doc had me install.
Nice to be an unnatural born killer, if I do say so myself. Next time someone needs an IED made out of a half empty wine bottle, a nylon string, and a clothes hanger, I’m your guy.
“So it wasn’t too bad down there?” Sophia asks after I’m back to wiggling my toes and fingers. We stand in the crowded luggage claim area, which is loud and panic-inducing to say the least. The droid gal I was stowed with walks past, turns to me, gives me a cold look, and continues on.
What’s gotten into her? I think as my Humandroid eyes lock onto her swaying hips as she walks away.
“Made a friend down there?”
“Jeez Louise, Sophia, you ever stop asking me questions?”
She grabs my arm and squeezes. “It was just you and her in the cargo hold, right?”
“Enough.”
“That’s romantic.”
“Enough, let’s just get the hell out of Dodge.”
“What’s that mean exactly?” she asks. “And where’s Dodge?”
I whip my arm away from her. The bustling airport overwhelms my Humandroid senses.
I’m given details about nearly everything, from schematics to potential hostiles, and as we make our way to the exit, I mentally tell myself to shut it all down, which works about as well as telling a hundred-year-old oak tree to move a few feet to the right. Near the exit, FCG Homeland Security officials mill about with drug sniffing, enhanced canines. The stern looks on their face tell me they’re all business, and Sophia reminds me not to say anything to them.
“I know not to tease coppers,” I tell her. “How do you think I made it this far in life without being arrested?”
“Well, the fact that you were in a digital coma for eight years definitely helped.”
Proxima Riven: Page 4