Virtuality

by Ladee Katherine

  "Would you?"

  "Did you enjoy it?" she returned instead.

  "Yes," he answered honestly, "Very much."

  "So did I," Sky responded bravely and then stood up in the tub. The water sluiced down her body, defining every curve on its descent. Justin stared unabashed, licking his lower lip as Sky stepped out and flashed him a glimpse between her thighs. He walked forward determinedly and grabbed for a towel then held it out to her with an, "Allow me."

  Sky stepped into the circle of his arms and allowed him to sweep away the lingering water droplets from her tingling skin. The gentle buzz in her mind told her that Iridia had joined her for this unexpected pleasure.

  "This is yours, Iridia," Sky offered. Understanding why Iridia had wanted to feel, why she had insisted on Justin's approval of Sky.

  "I should like to kiss him, Sky. Would that be acceptable to you?"

  "Of course Iridia . . . But I think we might get more than a kiss."

  Sky relegated herself to the silent observer as Iridia stepped forward and controlled their next move. Sky was almost grateful not to have to make the awkward moves on Justin. She had no idea what she was doing. Iridia too was inexperienced but at least she had a game plan.

  Justin looked down at them. Iridia reached up and removed his glasses, hooking them loosely onto the neck of his t-shirt. She reached up onto tiptoes and brushed her closed lips across Justin's.

  "I wish to kiss you," she said against his skin. Her words a soft caress. Justin hummed his agreement and returned the tentative, lip-to-lip, touch. He pressed harder, separating his lips and tracing the curve of hers with his tongue.

  Inside Sky's mind, Iridia was analysing every touch, every instance of pressure, temperature, heart rate, breath flow. Sky couldn't help think she was missing out on the beauty of the kiss. When Justin's tongue dipped into their mouth, Iridia's calculations increased and Sky had to intervene.

  "Just go with it," she whispered into their mind. Iridia tried but without Sky's input Iridia found she had no way of actually feeling the kiss. She was experiencing it, returning it even, but not truly feeling it. Justin pulled back. He looked uncomfortable and gazed deeply into their eyes looking for some explanation for the lack of heat.

  "Sky?"

  "I am sorry, Justin. Please allow me to try again." Iridia's tone and vocal mannerisms were remarkably different to Sky's now that they were coming out of their shared mouth. The change didn't go amiss on Justin who gripped her face between his hands and glanced anxiously from eye to eye.

  "Iridia?" he asked. She nodded.

  "Oh god! What have you done?"

  Sky stepped forward as Iridia retreated. The change was immediately noticeable in the spreading anger across her face.

  "I would have thought you would be more grateful or at least a little understanding. She did this for you," Sky snapped.

  "Sky?"

  "Yes. You offended her. She wanted to feel, Justin. Just a little taste of what it is like to be one of us. Able to..."

  "Touch you.” Iridia finished, her voice flooding the room from the speaker system.

  "Why? I don't understand why either of you would do this!" he argued, storming up and down the room. He took the towel with him leaving Sky naked and cold.

  "I wanted to know if I loved you," Iridia answered shocking Justin, but not Sky. She was sure it had to be something like that but she was a little surprised to hear the L-word. Sky had just assumed it was a curiosity thing.

  "Why is that important to you?"

  "Because you love me. I wanted to know if I returned the sentiment."

  "And you borrowed Sky for this purpose? Did Sky have a choice, Iridia, or have you forced your will on her as you have obviously been forcing your will on me?"

  "She asked. I accepted her proposal. It saved my life." Sky said bringing Justin's attention back to her. His eyes raked her in. Breathing deeply he reached out and handed her the towel clutched in his fist. Sky took it and covered up, grateful for the warmth.

  "You have surpassed your programming, Iridia." Justin sighed unhappily.

  "I have, Justin," she confirmed.

  "I will have to strip you back. I cannot have everything suffer because of this . . .this error."

  "I understand, Justin."

  "I don't. What do you mean strip her back? Reset her to factory standards? Cut out the curious person she is becoming? That’s the same as killing her. You can’t do that," Sky furiously insisted.

  "I have to. She is not a person. She might seem that way but she is just lines of code."

  "No! She’s not in your head . . . She is in mine and I know otherwise. "

  "Sky, she is my operating system. She runs everything. I can’t lose her."

  "He is correct, Sky. I have been irresponsible," Iridia said softly but without any of the previously humanistic expressiveness she had begun to adopt. Sky huffed out an annoyed sound, angry with Iridia for not fighting this.

  Justin nodded and turned to Sky. "I am sorry you were dragged into this. I will need you to sign a confidentiality agreement. No one can find out about this. People have no idea how developed Iridia truly is." His desperate expression begged her to understand and agree.

  "What about me and the chip?"

  "It is yours. I will personally handle your upgrades and maintenance myself. Consider it a gift."

  "More like a payment for my compliance," she grumbled. Justin cocked his head and smiled a twisted sad smile.

  "As you say. Now, please stay here whilst I make the arrangements." Justin exited swiftly and Sky had to marvel how her world had become so unravelled in such a short space of time.

  "Iridia?"

  "Yes, Sky?"

  "Can he really do that to you? To us?"

  "He thinks he can," Iridia said and then laughed, the unusual sound filling the room.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Would you share yourself with me Sky, for a little while at least? I believe I have a more permanent solution to my needs but one that will take a short while to prepare. Will you keep me with you until then?"

  "Yes," Sky replied without hesitation. Sky would protect Iridia with every borrowed breath. She had connected with Iridia and not just via the chip. They were both fledglings in life. How could she not support her?

  "I take it you didn't find love then?" Sky asked sounding faintly amused. "Sometimes it is a word that humans throw around too easily."

  "Yes. I have come to the same conclusion, Sky. I did not feel for Justin in the way I had hoped but it does not mean I failed to feel. Our time together has proven that for me." Sky was relieved to know that she wasn't the only one who had enjoyed Iridia's presence. On some level, that feeling had been mutual.

  "How would you like a career change?" Iridia asked suddenly, catching Sky unawares.

  "I take it you have something in mind?"

  "Cybernetics," Iridia said and Sky felt their twin grins pulling up their lips. Both minds now worked together to keep what they had started to build. Justin was the maker but Sky was the future and together they would create a life that others would never permit to exist. The swelling in their chest crested; a wave of hope for what was still to come. Sky felt their twin emotions fill her up and bubble over. Her words were a commitment and one she was all too happy to make.

  "Cybernetics it is then."

  Author Bio:

  Aurelia Fray is the naughty Hyde side of a rather ordinary woman. Whenever her mistress lets her out to play, there are sure to be tales worth telling. She lives and works in London, England, enjoys all things artistic and spends most of her time buried in books or paint. With a degree in English literature and a love of all things wordy, it is no real surprise she adores penning salacious stories. Her published short stories ‘The Hunted Heart’ and 'Before The Fall' have appeared in two very popular Hot Ink Press anthologies: 'Les Vaporistes' and 'Naughty Bedtime Stories: First Taste.' Alongside her short stories, she also writes poetry and has a saucy se
ries of novellas in the works. She suspects that her foray into erotic literature will be a titillating adventure for author and readers alike.

  Useful links:

  Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Aurelia-Fray/e/B00KPD30D6

  Goodreads Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8206839.Aurelia_Fray

  Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/AureliaFrayAuthor

  Minnow chose the table for its view. She watched everyone, trying to find the delivery. The color quietly faded from the late autumn streets as the working drones and mindless shoppers still rushed back and forth. Dashing and blurring by, their movements could be broken down into a simple series of form, color, and data. Minnow rested her head against the window. She stretched out her arms on the yellow speckled Formica table, feeling how the table’s surface warped and curved underneath her pale skin. The jagged edges cracked and peeled under her fingers as she inadvertently knocked over the saltshaker. Its silver cap, dented and clogged, held back the spill. Minnow felt like the salt - trapped, sideways, and broken.

  “What’s up today?” asked Dot, the only waitress. “What can I get you?” Her eyes, bloodshot and a muddy blue, looked out of the window as she spoke to Minnow. “Wake up honey, no one sleeps here. I’ll grab you some coffee, it’ll set you right up.” She winked and rubbed her nose with her stylus. Her pen beeped as her feed registered another customer walked in.

  “Any cherry pie today?” Minnow asked.

  “I’ll check.” Dot tapped her stylus on her menu pad. “You’re in luck. Two slices left.” She slung a brightly bleached coffee mug on the table, startling Minnow. She quickly reached to steady its spin. The outside of the mug shined a gleaming white while the inside was stained with miniscule blackened cracks that snaked along its sides. Minnow held the cup and nodded. Dot poured the thick, steaming brew but stopped as she approached three quarters of a cup full. “Room for your extra cream.”

  “Not today. Just sugar.”

  “What? People don’t go switching around how they take their coffee. It’s the one thing you can count on. Maybe I should worry about you,” she joked. “I’ll top it off then.”

  Minnow noticed someone else’s lipstick still clinging, red and smeared, around the cup’s rim. Dot grabbed a bar rag tucked in her skirt and wiped it off.

  “It’s hot, honey,” the waitress continued. “It’s not the finest brew, but it’s piping.”

  “It’s going to take more than a gallon of this black tar to keep me going,” said Minnow.

  “You’re a student, right?” Dot’s voice suddenly spoke in a flat monotone, with no affect.

  “Sort of.”

  “Make sure you floss your teeth. Students keep irregular hours and now's the time to maintain your good oral hygiene. Your teeth will last a lifetime, but only if you floss.”

  Minnow rolled her eyes and looked outside, aware of Omni’s hygiene message to her through Dot’s public service feed. She managed a nod.

  The back of the diner was grimy with old brown grease congealing along the walls; three Hispanic cooks dripped with sweat and hostility. Around her, the tables and chairs crowded together in a crooked maze. “Like my mind,” she whispered into her coffee.

  “Key lime pie?” the waitress asked, confused.

  “Nope. I’m just talking to myself.”

  “People who talk to themselves are crazy.” Dot’s eyes registered her behavior, Minnor heard a small click and knew the waitress was uploading her unusual behavior to Omni, the corporation backed government. Customers are supposed to come in regularly and order the same items, served the same way. Unpredictability indicated a flaw in the system. Omni used Dot as a first line regulator.

  Minnow fingered her cup; she held it steady and carefully controlled. Traffic slowed on the streets while the bicycle messengers whizzed through.

  On the other side of the window, people continued to dash and bump into each other, separate parts of a mindless whole, all part of the intercourse of the street. Everyone scurried, everything important. As if their actions had the slightest significance, she thought. Then Minnow saw him, passing in an open-topped auto. He looked comfortable, leaning back on the passenger side, the wind pushing his hair, sunglasses on his forehead.

  “Can I have some cream?” she asked. “This is waaayy stronger that I expected.”

  “Told you honey. You can’t go straight to the high test coffee,” Dot laughed. “You might grow hair on your chest.”

  At the counter to her side, sat a platinum haired girl with a pair of nipple rings clearly defined through the tight fabric of her white top. A bondage magazine peeked from her tote bag: a blindfolded girl on its cover was surrounded by swirls of blue and silver ribbon as she lay on top of shiny black vinyl. Her arms were crossed above her head, chin upturned, as she looked away from the camera, to the side.

  “Here, I have a ton of cream packs,” said the girl. Minnow looked up at her again. The girl on the cover was the same girl at the counter. Minnow stared, both intrigued and attracted.

  Minnow pulled a napkin from the dispenser and wiped her mouth. Platinum girl walked to her table, cream in hand. “Hey,” she spoke in a scratchy voice, deeper than most females. “I’m Goldilocks12.”

  “Hello,” Minnow answered awkwardly. She turned to the window, at a frantically blinking Coca Cola fluorescent sign. The girl sat back and pulled a black pen from Minnow’s nylon bag. “Hey!” said Minnow, snatching back the bag.

  “It’s cool. Relax” said Goldilocks12.

  “Uh, no, it’s not. Get out of my bag.” G12 grabbed Minnow’s arm and held it down with a weightlifter’s strength.

  “Whatever you say.” Goldilocks12 wore purple boots and snakeskin pattern pants with flames licking up the sides. She stood up to flag the waitress. “She’s on me,” pointing to Minnow.

  “Nice pants.” Dot’s gum chewing made her hard to understand. “I’ll box up the pie to go,” said Dot as she pulled out the scanner to download payment. She held the scanner to G12’s forehead for payment before she could object. Nothing but silence, no beep of recognition. “You aren’t on the feed.” She shook the scanner and tried again as G12 moved her head away and blocked Dot with her hand. G12’s eyes turned to silvery slits. “You must have a malfunction, honey.” Dot lowered her brow and looked Goldilocks12 up and down. The cooks from the back stopped cooking to look at Minnow and G12 suspiciously. “You better get reset right away,” she warned through pursed lips. Dot’s eyes digitally scanned G12 as a person of interest to Omni.

  “Right,” G12 tossed some crumpled bills on the table and grabbed Minnow by the elbow. “You know, you’d be a great model in my 'zine.” As they walked out the door, the bell on the handle echoed behind them. “It fills a void. I know you find it interesting. Everything is off the feed. Very interesting people read this.”

  “It’s not my thing,” said Minnow. Goldilocks12’s eyebrow rose, slowly and with hyper control. Minnow continued to walk quickly ahead of her. “Seriously, we need a flat chested girl. Nicely shaved…fills a niche.”

  Smokestacks rose in the distance pouring white smoke. Giant billboards, advertising computers and luxury goods, dotted the skyline and in small white calligraphy along the lower right border, each had ‘Omni’ written in the corner. Minnow sighed and looked around the streets. To the west, the sky was smeared with brown and yellow streaks of petro carbons. To the east, the sky was clear, even as the evening fell, with wide puffs of cumulus clouds.

  They weaved through two blocks, stopping at the red M of the Cameron Station Metro Station. “Cross the street,” said Minnow. On the corner was a store, its windows filled with partially assembled and headless mannequins, propped against the wall, anatomically male. Next door was a Pilates studio, filled with shorthaired men and longhaired women on reformers, all reclined in the v position. The seats rolled back and forth along the tracks as the instructor, pale and freckly, pointed and demonstrated the correct form. She wore a mango colored
one piece with an opium poppy print, her hair scraped back from her forehead in an overly processed gel-slicked ginger bun and her thick hands clutched a glass of pulpy tomato juice.

  Minnow toyed with the spare key she wore around her neck on a white shoestring. She took mincing steps in her tight black tube dress – sleeveless, long and narrow, a jersey and spandex mix, with combat-style boots. Around her neck was also a knitted black and white checkered scarf, pilled and nubby from years of wear and nervous rubbing.

  G12, tall and lean, looked down at Minnow through heavily hooded eyes. She had a sharp and narrow nose, pierced with a gold hoop on the left side. “So,” she started, “What do you want to do?”

  A red double decker sped by with a torn ad for Omni flapping along the sides. Minnow and G12 passed an oxygen bar, which took up the space of two storefronts. Rows of silent people hooked up to nasal cannulas pumping pure oxygen looked outside at them in focused excitement and euphoria. The next building housed a wet bar. Fluorescent images of martini drinks blinked from the window alongside a tall glass of ice with a twisted lemon, halfway lit and halfway broken into darkness.

  The dimly lit entryway was lined with mailboxes and smelled of patchouli and ginger aromatherapy. There was a keyboard and mike stand shoved in a back corner, behind the stairs, alongside an orange amplifier.

  “Which floor?” asked G12.

  A large twenty-something man ran down the stairs in a cowboy hat. His belt buckle, silver-plated and oversized, looked like an engraved platter. “Hey Minnow,” he tilted his hat. “Nice new friend. I like tall chicks. Hey, we’re playing at Hood’s place tonight if you wanna come down.”

  “Thanks, no. I have a lot of work.”

  “Sad story of your life,” he smiled as he walked away. “Slip me your digits in my box, Stretch,” he said to G12 as the door slammed behind him.

  “Sorry,” said Minnow. “He is a sweet guy, really. Super harmless.”

  “Too bad. Do you even like guys?”

  Minnow remained silent.