Writing As We Go, Chapter 7

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Writing As We Go, Chapter 7

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Sun Feb 27, 2022 10:01 am

Before the pinging against the outside wall roused him from his slumber, Lloyd had found himself in the midst of another dream—this one, far more fascinating than the previous.

The environment was something of a blur, not that it'd mattered. Mandy and Diana were there, each asking Lloyd if he needed anything. Mandy—once again looking nearly ethereal in her beauty—alternated between her pre-pandemic self and the staccato motions and flat monotone her “robotic” self had shown in the dream a few nights before. Diana, by contrast, would switch from her aloof, not-yet sentient self to a vibrant, lively figure—and back—in seconds. Neither of the two seemed to want to force Lloyd's hand, but were both offering to help him however they could.

Lloyd had tried to speak, to say that he wanted to help them, but then Elton John had wandered in and said something about the pumpkins needing to have a word with him. And then the pinging noise had started.

It became evident, as he wiped the last vestiges of crud from his eyes, that the pinging Lloyd was hearing wasn't just some auditory hallucination. Someone was winging rocks at the outside of the house, at an hour when most people were either still asleep or preparing to enjoy their Saturday.

The question of “who?” barely formed in Lloyd's thoughts before it was answered by the pinger himself.

“MORGAN! I KNOW YOU'RE BEHIND ALL THIS! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, MORGAN! THIS ENDS NOW!

Lloyd hadn't heard the nasally, borderline whine that was Bobby Pariello's voice in person for a long time, but it sounded just as shrill as ever, even from ground-level. A growled “Oh, what the HELL?!” from a nearby room signalled that Harry had heard the shouting—and, probably, the pinging—as well.

A groan served as Lloyd's comment on the circumstances as he untangled himself from the bedsheets.

In the midst of putting on his shirt and trying to work out what Elton John and pumpkins had to do with anything, Lloyd heard what had to be Harry—and several others—making their way downstairs, Harry yelling every step of the way. It was evident that Bobby Pariello had decided, for whatever reason, that Harry needed to pay for some imagined slight against him, but why now?

Fully dressed, in jeans and a t-shirt bearing the legend “Feel The Love: Live-Aid '95”, Lloyd went to leave his room—

—only for the door to open just as he reached for the pull, to reveal Cam and Erin standing outside.

“You heard?” he asked.

“The property proximity sensors detected a vehicle,” Cam began, but Erin cut her off. “Bobby P has lost his mind,” she explained. “You might want to sit this one out, Lloyd.”

“I'm not—”

The sound of the front door being thrown open downstairs cut him off. Cam, Erin and Lloyd barely had time to react before they all heard Harry bellow: “YOU'VE GOT TEN SECONDS TO GET THE HELL OFF OF MY PROPERTY, BOBBY, OR I'M CALLING THE COPS!

“I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL YOU CONFESS, MORGAN! YOU SENT ONE OF YOUR WHORE DOLLS TO TEAR UP MY HOUSE YESTERDAY!”

Cam's eyes went wide, and Erin groaned. “Oh, Hell.”

Lloyd was more confused than either of them. “What's he talking about? Who tore up his—”

“ARE YOU SNIFFING GLUE, BOBBY?! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOUR DAMN HOUSE!”

CONFESS, MORGAN! YOU SENT SOME BIMBO-BOT TO WRECK MY HOUSE WHILE I WAS AT WORK!”

I DIDN'T DO A DAMN THING TO YOUR DAMN HOUSE, AND YOU DAMN WELL KNOW IT!

Lloyd charged past Erin and Cam, ignoring Erin's cry of “Lloyd, wait!” This was going to turn ugly soon; whatever had gone down at Bobby P's house, Lloyd wasn't going to stand for his uncle being blamed for it.

Any thoughts of charging in and heroically defending Harry's honor froze in Lloyd's mind when he got to the bottom of the stairs. Harry was standing in the doorway, no doubt glaring at Bobby—and holding a rifle. “Either you get the HELL off of my land now,” he demanded, “or I can call the cops and have them haul you off!”

Despite the fact that Bobby Pariello looked, for all intents and purposes, like the kind of doughy white guy who bought a tricked-out motorcycle due to a mid-life crisis, it was evident that he, at least, believed in the bizarre accusations he was screaming at Harry. “YOU SEND YOUR DOLLS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, SO I CAN MARK WHICH ONE TORE UP MY HOUSE AND HAVE THE PLASTIC BITCH SCRAPPED!”

“THEY'RE NOT DOLLS,” Harry thundered, “AND THEY'RE DAMN SURE NOT 'PLASTIC BITCHES'!”

“THAT ONE WITH THE FACE,” Bobby shrieked, “WITH THE CLOWN HAIR! IT WAS HER, WASN'T IT?!”

Harry fumed, even as Lloyd crept over to the door. “I didn't send ANY of my inventory to your house,” he called out, “AND I NEVER WOULD—” He tensed, nearly snarling at the hand on his elbow, only to instantly relax when he realized the hand in question was Lloyd's. “Get back upstairs and tell everyone to lock their doors,” he advised. “Bobby P's on some kind of a bender—”

“HE'S SCREWING HER, ISN'T HE?! HE'S SCREWING THE PLASTIC SLUT YOU HAD WRECK MY HOUSE!”

Lloyd winced as Harry turned to glare, once again, at Bobby. “YOU LEAVE MY NEPHEW OUT OF THIS, BOBBY!

“I BET HIS PARENTS WOULD'VE—”

Before Lloyd could react, Harry brought the rifle to bear. “GET OFF OF MY LAND, BOBBY!

Bobby fumbled in his own waistband, eventually producing a pistol. “ADMIT IT WAS YOU, OR I'LL SHOOT!”

“YOU'VE GOT TEN SECONDS TO LEAVE!”

“I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE DAMN PLACE DOWN, MORGAN, UNLESS YOU CONFESS RIGHT NOW!”

Harry nearly said something, but the sound of sirens cut him off. A line of cars—some police, some CAEDIA—was, at that moment, snaking up the road leading to his house. With a satisfied grunt, he handed the rifle over to Lloyd. “Tell Erin to lock this up,” he muttered.

“CONFESS, MORGAN! CONFESS, OR I'LL SHOOT YOUR BALLS OFF FROM RIGHT HERE!”

“YOU COULDN'T HIT THE BROADSIDE OF A BARN WITH THAT THING—”

A lone shot rang out. Lloyd nearly fell to the floor, his hands over his head; it took him a few seconds to realize that the bullet hadn't hit him, or Harry. This was a small consolation to his uncle, who was storming out of the doorway, his fists clenched as he advanced on Bobby P.

“DON'T COME ANY CLOSER, MORGAN!”

“YOU CRAZY SON OF A BITCH, YOU COULD'VE KILLED SOMEBODY!”

“I'LL DROP YOU WHERE YOU STAND, I SWEAR—”

Bobby's tirade—and Harry's advance—came to an end as the cop cars and CAEDIA cruisers glided onto the front lawn of Harry's property. Officers emerged from their vehicles, their guns aimed at Bobby. A 30-something cop in full uniform, who looked like he could bench-press Bobby without breaking a sweat, took immediate charge of the situation. “Put the gun down and place your hands on the back of your head.”

His lower lip quivering, Bobby threw the gun down—causing it to fire again.

The first CAEDIA cruiser's door opened to reveal a blonde Officer in full uniform. She ignored Bobby P's insistence to the cops that a “plastic slut-bot” had torn up his house as she walked up to Harry. “We just got the call about him last night,” she explained. “Stole a ride-share car and broke at least five speed limits to get here.”

Harry shook his head. “He's lost his damned mind,” he muttered. “He was throwing rocks at the windows, yelling about me sending someone to 'tear up his house' yesterday.”

The CAEDIA Officer glanced back at Bobby, frowning. “Someone did tear up his house,” she admitted, “but—”

“AND SHE'S IN ON IT!” Bobby shouted, pointing a trembling finger at the Officer. “THAT PLASTIC BIMBO REFUSED A DIRECT ORDER TO GIVE ME HER PHONE YESTERDAY! SHE'S DEVIANT, SHE NEEDS TO BE SCRAPPED!”

“What's his problem?”

The Officer regarded Lloyd with a frown, but Harry spoke up: “Lloyd Watson, my nephew.”

“Officer Sierra Birch, CAEDIA.” The blonde nodded. “We'd like to run a quick check on all of the NonSens you have, just to make absolutely sure none of them are connected to what happened at Mr. Pariello's house yesterday.”

“I can guarantee they're not,” Harry assured her, “but if it'll shut him up, fine.” Harry glanced over his shoulder, back at the house; Cam and Erin were both making their way over, one concerned, the other looking as if she'd rather be off on vacation in another country. “Cam and Erin—both sentients, and both—”

“THAT'S HER,” Bobby shrieked, gesturing at Erin. “THE PLASTIC BITCH WITH THE STUPID HAIR!”

“Hit a Stairmaster when you make bail,” Erin shot back. “You look like a Pillsbury reject!”

YOU SHUT YOUR PLASTIC WHORE MOUTH—” Two cops had to hold Bobby back from running to throttle the gynoid.

Officer Birch frowned. “Was that entirely necessary?”

“No,” Erin admitted, “but it made me feel a lot better.”

Two more CAEDIA officers—a tall male and a shorter, tanned female, both wearing uniforms identical to Officer Birch's—joined the increasing throng that made its way towards the shop out back. “There were no witness accounts of the perpetrator,” the blonde Officer explained, “but we do have a positive ID—Pariello's doorbell camera caught the suspect breaching the front door of the house.”

“And he really thinks one of mine did it?” Harry asked.

Officer Birch shrugged. “The ride-share driver whose car he stole said he wouldn't shut up about 'Morgan'.”

“If he's still pissed off about that whole thing with his ex...”

The band of cops, StoryCrafters employees and CAEDIA officers at the shop had swelled to over 20 by the time they'd all arrived at the front door. “Just let me put in the code.” Harry, already at the front of the group, moved to input the combination that would unlock the door. “And—”

As soon as the beep sounded from the keypad, Bobby forced his way past Harry and threw open the door.

To Lloyd's horror, Bobby immediately spotted—and ran for—the Heartelligence crate that Diana was stored in.

“Somebody get—stop him!” Officer Birch nodded for the officers to get Bobby back in line, but Lloyd was sprinting past them, already dreading what kind of damage Bobby might try to inflict on Diana in his misguided effort to avenge himself and his property. As it was, Bobby was already trying to rip the lid off of the crate, apparently unaware of the security lock that held it on. “Get this DAMN thing off,” he grunted, “have that plastic bitch hauled off to be scrapped—”

“She's not a bitch,” Lloyd protested, reaching to pull Bobby away from the crate. “She's—”

His vision went white for a second, and he felt himself hit a workbench behind him.

“DON'T YOU DARE HIT HIM AGAIN!” Harry thundered, even as cops ran past him to grab Bobby and force him to the floor. “You lay another finger on him and I'll—”

“Are you all right?” Cam was at Lloyd's side in an instant. “Did he injure you?”

“Let me take a look.” Erin leaned in, frowning. “Gave you a pretty bad shiner with that backhand.”

Lloyd grunted as the two helped him to his feet. “He called Diana a plastic bitch,” he muttered.

“He thinks all gynoids are 'plastic bitches',” Erin mused. “I hear he's banned for life from every branch of Sparx in the continental U.S.—and don't say he could just go to Alaska, Hawaii or Puerto Rico,” she added, turning to frown at Cam.

The hiss of the Heartelligence crate opening cut off any further discussion of Bobby Pariello's lifetime ban from Sparx.

“Let me take a look—and keep him under control.” Officer Birch nodded to the still-struggling Bobby before turning her attention to the motionless figure of Diana, still standing in her crate. Cam brushed past her to retrieve the palmtop from its storage compartment, uttering a polite “Excuse me” as she went.

“Direct Control,” Lloyd explained, his hand rubbing the sore side of his face as he spoke. “Installed as a gift.”

“A gift?” Officer Birch echoed.

“Uncle Harry just got her this week. New-old stock from 2020, never opened or activated before two days ago.”

The CAEDIA Officer nodded. “And you have records of her being on-site during the incident at Mr. Pariello's house?”

“She was at the old rock pit, the quarry,” Lloyd replied. “We were running a story—”

“Heartelligence 90S-50-D—online.” Diana's boot-up sequence cut him off.

Lloyd watched as Officer Birch stepped forward, staring into Diana's eyes...
-----
Sierra knew that Harry Morgan's nephew, Lloyd, was staring intently at her—not out of some fascination with a gynoid in uniform (probably), but with genuine concern for the Heartelligence gynoid standing before her. “She's a NonSen?”

“She is, but she's configured to learn—”

“ROBOTS DON'T NEED TO LEARN!” Pariello's shriek, as he was hauled up, drew a groan from someone standing behind Lloyd. “THEY SHOULD JUST DO AS THEY'RE TOLD!”

“Mr. Pariello, you're already facing charges of assault, trespassing and illegal possession of a firearm.” Lieutenant Dave Pierce, the policeman who'd ordered Pariello to drop the gun earlier, was standing before him, frowning. “You want—”

“YOU'RE A PAWN OF THE STATE! THE COMPUTERS ARE WRITING YOUR CHECKS!”

The other police officers were all muttering and shaking their heads. Sierra ignored them, and Pariello, as she regarded Diana with a wary stare.

Picture in Picture: Load file?
Y/N
Y


Two images of the intruder from Bobby Pariello's house—one, pulled from Evelyn Hinson's memory files; the other, a scanned-in photo from the “Party Girl” ad Detective Logan had given her—appeared in her field of view. In both, the enigmatic blonde was smiling.

“Diana,” Sierra instructed, “can you smile?”

After a moment, Diana nodded. Her lips formed an open-mouthed grin—what Detective Logan would call a “toothpaste commercial” smile.

“Closed lips, please,” Sierra suggested. Diana's smile changed accordingly. “Tilt your head to the right, just a bit.”

Within Sierra's field of view, the two images of the blonde were superimposed over Diana's face. There were some base similarities between the two—round cheeks, a gentle curve to the jawline, pert noses and thin brows—but nothing that could provide a 100% match. The differences (Diana's upper lip was thinner than the blonde's, for one) were enough to put paid to any claims by Bobby Pariello that the Heartelligence gynoid had been the one to break into his house.

There was also the not-insignificant matter of Diana looking ever so slightly more...lively, than the blonde. In the recalled Party Girl's ad, the smile was just there—a programmed response, lacking context. On Diana's face, even if she'd been told specifically to smile, it looked far more genuine than just Neutral Smile #57.

After a few seconds, Sierra nodded. “You can stop smiling, now.” Diana's expression returned to neutral, but her eyes still seemed to indicate she was still smiling, despite the command.

“She was at the story site most of the day,” Lloyd insisted. “She even died—her character died, I mean, but—”

“I get the picture.” Sierra turned to regard Lloyd and his uncle. “Her base personality wasn't active when she was taking part in the story?”

“She was playing the leader of the Artemis Pact.” Harry Morgan had stepped up, interspersing himself between Lloyd and Pariello. “British accent, full uniform—a substitution for, ah, 'World War II German military'.”

Sierra nodded. “I see. And she never left the site of the event?”
-----
“Not until after the paying customers left,” Diana answered softly.

Surprised Diana answered, Lloyd added, “She rode home in Cliff Barba's car—he's a friend of Uncle Harry's, he'll vouch for me and for Diana. I was there—Direct Controlled her up the ladders at the rock pit and out to Mr. Barba's car.”

Harry glanced at him. “You Direct Controlled her up the ladders?”

“Well, I didn't want her to fall off—”

The tall, male CAEDIA officer approached. “We've got Cliff Barba on the line.”

“Thanks.” Officer Birch touched two fingers to her temple, her eyes taking on a soft glow. “Mr. Barba, this is CAEDIA Officer Sierra Birch, calling about an incident that took place yesterday...”

Lloyd's attention to the call was diverted when Harry took him aside. “You all right, Lloyd?”

“I'm fine.” Even as he assured his uncle he wasn't hurt, he winced. “Just didn't expect him to hit me.”

“I'll get an ice pack for that shiner later,” Harry assured him. “Right now, I'm trying to work out why the hell Bobby P. thinks I sent Diana to his house yesterday.”

“Thanks for your cooperation.” Officer Birch blinked, her tone far more relaxed. “Barba's alibi checks out—his driver had Diana and...” She glanced at Cam, who nodded and gave her name. “Cam, here, ride back here before the customers returned to the event site.” She turned to regard Bobby P. with a cold stare. “Would you like to recant your accusation, Mr. Pariello, or do we—”

“THIS IS A CONSPIRACY!” Bobby shouted. “EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU ARE TRYING TO SCREW ME OVER!”

“Accusing law enforcement officers of a crime they didn't commit isn't going to help your case, Mr. Pariello—”

“YOU'RE NOT REAL LAW ENFORCEMENT! JUST A PLASTIC SEX TOY IN A CHEAP UNIFORM!”

The cops on-hand all turned away, burying their faces in their hands. A muttered “here we go” from the shorter, tanned female CAEDIA officer barely registered with Lloyd before Officer Birch spoke again: “Robert G. Pariello, I'm charging you with resisting arrest and hindering a CAEDIA investigation.”

“I REFUSE TO RECOGNIZE YOUR AUTHORITY, YOU WORTHLESS PLASTIC—”

“Robert Pariello,” Lieutenant Pierce stated, “you're under arrest for assault, trespassing, intent to cause bodily harm with a deadly weapon, illegal possession of a firearm, resisting arrest and obstruction of justice.” He stepped aside to let two other cops handcuff Bobby P. “You have the right to remain silent,” he continued. “If you give up that right, anything you say—”

“LET GO OF ME!” Bobby tried to wrest himself from the grip of the police officers, screaming all the while. “THIS IS BULLSHIT! THIS IS TOTAL, COMPLETE BULLSHIT!

“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law,” Lieutenant Pierce continued, ignoring the tirade. “You have the right to an attorney—”

“I KNOW YOU SET THIS UP, MORGAN!” Bobby screamed. “I KNOW YOU DID THIS! I'LL MAKE YOU PAY, DAMN IT!”

“Blow it out your ass, Bob!” Harry shot back. “I didn't do a damn thing to you, and you know it!”

“If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” Lieutenant Pierce followed the cops restraining Bobby as they left the shop. “If you choose to speak with a police officer, you have the right to stop the interview at any time—”

THIS IS BULLSHIT! HE SET ME UP! HARRY MORGAN SET ME UP, AND HE STOLE MY WIFE!

“I DIDN'T STEAL YOUR WIFE,” Harry shouted back. “SHE LEFT YOU BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T WANT A ONE-WAY TICKET TO THE POORHOUSE—”

An enraged, wordless shriek cut him off; Bobby had broken away from the cops and was charging at Harry, ready to headbutt him to the ground. Lloyd jumped in front of his uncle, only for Cam and Erin to stand in front of him; all three were prepared to take Bobby to the floor before he got anywhere near Harry.

“TASER! TASER! TASER!”

Bobby's rush suddenly slowed to barely a jog, as he went limp and hit the floor of the shop. Two long, thin metal wires were running from a point near the base of his spine to the plastic device in the hand of one of the cops. The officers marched over and hauled Bobby up by his armpits, ignoring his mumbled insistence that Harry had screwed him.

Lieutenant Pierce remained the picture of stoicism. “Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“Haaarrreeehhhggghhh” was the only reply Bobby could muster up.

“Unbelievable.” Officer Birch shook her head as she watched Bobby get hauled out. As the phalanx of cops left the shop she turned her attention to Harry. “Mr. Morgan, just for reference, I'd like to check the rest of your inventory to make sure none of them match the confirmed images of the perpetrator we're looking for.”

“Sure, sure,” Harry nodded. “No problem.” He scowled. “He still blames me for her leaving him.”

“Mr. Morgan?”

Harry glanced at Officer Birch. “A few years ago, I gave Bobby's wife—now his ex-wife—a stock tip, better than anything he'd ever come up with,” he explained. “We were on a boat, one of those party cruises. I'd just been talking to her—just the two of us, off on our own. Maybe she gave me a kiss on the cheek, but that was it. Half an hour later, I'm in a group conversation, and Bobby storms up to me and tries to slug me. Says I tried to 'lay with' his ex, that I'm a bastard and a bunch of other stuff because I'd 'stolen' her from him.”

“But she did file for an annulment,” Cam added. Harry shot a warning glare in her direction.

“And Mr. Pariello still believes that your advice was the direct cause of the annulment?” Officer Birch inquired.

“He didn't even know about the advice! He must've seen her kiss me, saw we were both drinking champagne, and got it in his head that I got her all liquored up and rarin' to go!” Harry groaned. “It was just a conversation. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Officer Birch nodded. “I'd still like to check your inventory, just to be sure.”

“I'll help,” Lloyd offered. “I was supposed to help Erin take stock yesterday, actually.”

“Guess that means I've just been drafted,” Erin sighed. “And I'll be happy to give any statements you need to prove my innocence, if Pariello tries to say I'm behind whatever he thinks is happening to him.”

“Just the inventory check, for now.”

The hour that followed was, by Lloyd's standards, an interesting one. He and Erin led Officer Birch through the stored inventory of NonSen gynoids; Lloyd briefly explained that they also had male androids in inventory, but that they were often repaired off-site. The gynoids marked for auction and sale the day before were among those examined; Sienna, who'd been marked for sale after a final code purge, was looked over thoroughly by Officer Birch.

“So Pariello's place really got torn up?” Erin inquired.

“I can't comment on the specifics until the investigation is closed,” Officer Birch replied, her eyes glowing as she turned Sienna around on her storage rack. “I can only say that we're looking for a multiple-offence perpetrator.”

“Multiple offence?” Lloyd frowned. “That sounds pretty bad.”

“It is.” Officer Birch sighed. “The thing is—and you never heard this from me...” She turned to regard Erin and Lloyd, her expression grim. “Whoever trashed Pariello's house also bricked two sentients.”

Erin winced; Lloyd was horror-struck. “Two?!

“We're pretty sure they showed up to try and mitigate whatever was happening.” Officer Birch had already turned away from Erin and Lloyd. “Neither of them were armed.”

“Unbelievable,” Erin muttered. “Did Pariello even—”

“All he cares about is whether his insurance covers the damage to his house.” The bitterness was all too evident in Officer Birch's tone. Her attention turned back to Sienna. “This one's marked down for sale,” she mused, noticing the tag on a lanyard around the gynoid's neck. “Any reason why?”

Erin shrugged. “She was having problems during the test,” she mused, “two days before we ran the event. Wouldn't let go of Harry's rifle—a prop,” she quickly explained. “Even in a Full Stop order, she had a death grip on the gun.”

“We ran a code-purge on her yesterday,” Lloyd added. “She's clean.”

Officer Birch nodded. “She's not a match for the perp at Pariello's,” she stated. “Her hair's not even the right colour.”

“So the perp was a gynoid?” Lloyd hated the fact that he'd asked the question out loud—less for having said it, and more for the possibility that a gynoid could've caused so many problems.

“We're looking into all possibilities.”

“Lloyd?”

The sound of Diana calling his name jolted Lloyd's attention away from the CAEDIA Officer. “Diana's still on,” he realized, glancing back at Officer Birch. “I need to, ah—”

“Not a problem.”

With a nod, Lloyd ran to where Diana's crate was, the blonde gynoid still standing inside it and waiting patiently for her next command. “I didn't mean to just leave you here,” he apologized. “I was just helping Officer Birch—”

“What happened to your face?” Diana reached out, tentatively, to brush her hand against where Bobby Pariello's wild punch had landed.

“Someone hit me,” Lloyd muttered. “Somebody I hope I never see again.”
-----
Accessing Audio/Visual Record
Playback


Diana's vision filled with the past—a few minutes past, but still. A short, fat man with unkempt clothes and facial hair was being roughly brought to the floor by several others, all wearing distinctive uniforms. The fat man was ranting; the rest were telling him to calm down.

“..dunno why he showed up here,” Lloyd was saying, in the present.

The video feed of the past few minutes minimized in Diana's field of view as she stepped out of the crate. “How can I help?” she asked.

“Wha—help?” Lloyd looked confused.

“You're injured.” Diana gently brushed her hand against the bruise on Lloyd's face.

“It's not—” Lloyd grit his teeth, even as he hissed the words “that bad.” He seemed to look her over even as she tried to ascertain the severity of his wound. “You didn't change since last night?”

“I felt no need to—”

“Everything okay?” Diana looked past Lloyd to see an approaching figure—female, in a different uniform from the kind worn by those who'd handled the fat man.

“Ah, Diana, this is Officer..” Lloyd snapped his fingers a few times, but the newcomer spoke up: “Officer Sierra Birch, from the local CAEDIA office.”

Diana frowned. “Kay-dee-uh?”

“She was manufactured in 2020,” Lloyd explained. “Before—”

“Got it.” Officer Birch stared into Diana's eyes. “I'm with the Civic Accords Enforcement, Defence and Investigation Agency,” she explained. “The North American Civic Accords are a suite of laws passed to grant sentient A.I. constructs, gynoids and androids more freedoms and rights—as well as improve the quality of life for human beings living in or around North America.”

Even as she spoke, Diana found subwindows opening in her field of view, detailing the history of the North American Civic Accords. Flashes of data—snapshots in time, of the most important bullet points—flashed by. Names, of people and companies, flew past. By the time it all finished, Diana managed to utter a quiet “oh”.

“A lot to take in, I know,” Officer Birch admitted. “Especially since CAEDIA just got its name in 2021—” Her eyes glowed softly for a moment. “I have to take this.”

As Officer Birch stepped aside, touching two fingers to her temple, Lloyd stepped up to Diana. “So, ah,” he began, “you might want to...” Diana looked into his eyes, trying to figure out what he might say next; as she stared, Lloyd seemed to forget anything he might've been about to say.

“To what?” Diana prompted.

“Stick with me, for a while. Especially if Bobby P. runs back in here.”

Diana frowned. “Who?”
-----
“The one that hit me.” Lloyd found it difficult to break eye contact with Diana; there was something in her stare, a sort of curiosity that begged to be answered. “I just think it'd be safer if you stick with me.”

Diana's response surprised him: she took his left arm with both hands, stating “I won't let him hit you again.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Lloyd replied. “But what if he tries to?”

“I'll stop him.”

“How?”

Diana nearly replied, but frowned. “I don't know.”

Lloyd sighed. “I don't want you to hurt him just because he tries to hurt me,” he admitted. “If he gets away from the cops, we'll just let them handle it, or let Officer Birch handle things—”

“Do you love me, Lloyd?”

That question stunned Lloyd into a few seconds of silence. “Ah, I, uh, well—”

“If the man who hit you tried to damage me, would you stop him?” Diana took both of Lloyd's hands in her own.

“I'd do my best to, yeah—”

“Do you feel the same way about me as you do about Mandy?”

“Diana, why are you asking me all these questions?!

The blonde gynoid stared, her expression showing hesitance. “I don't know. But I want to.”

“You want to?” Lloyd echoed, only for Diana to pull him close, hugging him. For a moment, she rested her head against his shoulder. “I can hear the sound of your heart beating,” she murmured. “The exact rate of beats per minute, in time with your breath.”

“And?”

Diana looked up, her eyes almost gleaming. “I want to know more, Lloyd. So much more.”

Before Lloyd could answer, he heard Officer Birch behind him: “You're positive? No, I'm not saying—just get Billie on the horn if you can, and let her explain!”

He glanced back at Diana, whose eyes (he didn't care if they were optical sensors) still seemed to shine with hope.

After a minute, he took a deep breath. “If you want to learn, I'll help you. However I can.”

There was something in the smile on Diana's face that was so...real, when she heard him say those words. Nothing like her attempt at a quick, friendly smile from the party the previous night, or the smile Officer Birch had instructed her to make; this was genuine. It was new. “Thank you, Lloyd.”

“Well,” Lloyd reasoned, “we're a part of each other's stories, y'know? Writing as we go—”

“She's doing what with a pair of scissors?!”
-----
Billie had already had a rough night. The Pickett case had gone badly, back at HQ, and now she'd been called out to the Glacier Resort to look into what, at first, sounded like a cleaning robot taking a nosedive into the pool. Typical stuff; the older non-humanoid models often had guidance and positioning issues.

What had actually happened was worse. Much worse.

“Stabbing herself in the stomach, in the lobby fountain. It's the weirdest thing, too—she keeps saying something.” Billie held her phone closer to the fountain, just enough for Sierra to hear the maid's garbled utterances of “Hargan Morry” as she sloshed in the water, coolant and lubricant spilling from the hole she'd torn through her midsection. “Can't make heads or tails of it.”

Is there a maintenance file on her?

“Manager said she was AWOL for a few hours last night, then showed up back on shift this morning. Except her uniform was 'done up too tight', and she had a Botox smile on her that freaked out the last three people who saw her before she got a hold of the shears.” The crowd around the fountain had grown significantly since Billie had arrived; most were from CAEDIA and the local police, though a few curious guests still tried their best to get a peek at the unsettling sight by unobtrusive ways.

She didn't hurt anyone with the shears, did she?

Billie checked the tablet she held in her other hand. “Report says she was spotted walking down the hall with the shears, calmly, saying 'Hargan Morry' like it was the most normal thing in the world.” She grimaced. “Then she stopped right in front of the lift access doors and drove the blades into her right ocular sensor, all the way through. Good thing she's a NonSen, otherwise...” She brushed a few strands of coppery-red hair away from her eyes. “Digital Forensics is ready to run through her files and see what's what.”

Good. Let me know if they find anything—”

Over in the fountain, the maid 'bot thrashed around, more violently than she'd done before. Her utterances of “Hargan Morry” became shouts—very ecstatic shouts, at that.

“Ah, hold that thought, Sierra, I think she's just crossed another line!”

The maid, electricity arcing from the hole in her stomach and her ruined right eye, stood up, her vacant smile looking positively deranged. With a final cry of “HARGAN MORRY!”, she lifted the scissors with one hand, the blades pointed as if she was about to drive them back into her gut—only to bend slightly at the waist and knees as she thrust downward with the shears, curving back up to stab them into and through her underwear.

“What the Hell,” Billie muttered, backing away just as more lightning danced off of the doomed maid 'bot.

The maid's lone functioning eye spun in its socket, the smile on her face now hopelessly delirious. Smoke billowed from her shattered right eye and the hole in her chest, while steam and various fluids ran down her legs in sheets, coating the scissors and conducting more and more electricity. The waveform patterns of her voice distorted, taking on a distinct, harsh sawtooth tone as her face spasmed and twitched. By the time her features froze in a squint-eyed half-sneer, she pushed the scissors deeper into her folds, trying one last time to speak: “Haaarrrrgggaaa—”

Something in the back of her head blew out, followed by a muffled explosion sending her face flying. The ruined maid 'bot went knock-kneed instantly, the scissors falling out of her as she swayed for a moment before collapsing into the fountain, more water streaming into where her face had been. Further, smaller explosions rocked her figure.

“We're, ah, gonna need a bit more time to go over her files,” Billie admitted. “A lot more time, actually.”
-----
“Just keep me posted and let me know what Digital Forensics finds.” Officer Birch sighed. “I'll call you when I'm done at Morgan's house.” Lloyd watched as the glow faded from her eyes. “And I thought Saturdays were supposed to be easy,” she muttered, before realizing Lloyd—and Diana—were both regarding her with curious (and slightly worried, in Lloyd's case) looks. “An incident at the Glacier Resort,” she explained. “Some maid 'bot was...” She frowned.

“Ma'am?” Lloyd was beginning to dread what the CAEDIA Officer might say next.

“Has your uncle ever done any repairs for the Glacier Resort?”

Lloyd frowned; earlier in the year, Harry had been in a marathon phone session with “management” from a hotel a few towns over, and it hadn't ended well. “I don't think he did,” he admitted. “They might've called him—why?”

Officer Birch shook her head. “I need to go talk to him—he's not in trouble, I just...” She cupped her chin in her hand, frowning. “First Pariello's,” she muttered, “then the Glacier. It can't be random.”

Anything Lloyd could've asked was interrupted by Erin and Cam's approach; Erin had apparently been given a tablet by one of the CAEDIA officers. “Finished the inventory check,” she informed Lloyd. “None of 'em match up with this.” She held up the tablet, revealing an image of a smiling blond from an old ad for a “party girl” gynoid. “Funny,” she mused.

“Hmm?”

“We were talking about names for robotics lines yesterday,” Erin chuckled. “I mentioned 'P4RTY G1RL', and a day later, I get handed a picture of one. Never would've thought—”

“Have either of you done any work at the Glacier Resort?”

Officer Birch's question, addressed to Cam and Erin, earned a polite frown from the former and—to Lloyd's surprise—a scowl from the latter. “You couldn't pay me to set foot in that place,” Erin replied. “And not just because they tried to undercut Harry on a work offer earlier this year. All flash, no cash.”

“So you've never had access to their maid units, their concierge—”

“With all due respect, Officer,” Erin cut in, “I only ever took on one repair job on a Glacier 'bot, when I was freelancing last summer. Their idea of 'tech support' was utter trash back then, and even if they've improved it, I'm never putting in a repair ticket for one of theirs ever again.”

Officer Birch nodded. “And you?”

“I've never done any direct work for anyone other than Harry.” Cam's voice was as calm as ever.

“You've never stayed at the Glacier Resort as a guest, or—”

“Harry always makes the travel reservations if we have to go anywhere,” Cam replied. “I usually don't pay attention to which hotels he decides we need to stay at on work trips.”

After a few seconds of seemingly staring past both Cam and Erin, her eyes still glowing, Officer Birch nodded. “I just need to ask Mr. Morgan a few questions regarding his work history,” she stated. Noticing Cam's concern and Erin's scowl, she quickly added: “He's not in any trouble, and neither are any of you. There've been a lot of weird incidents going on this week, a lot of reports being filed...” She turned away, frowning. “Either it's a coincidence,” she murmured, “or we're missing something.”

As Officer Birch left the shop, Lloyd—with Diana, Erin and Cam in tow—followed her out.
-----
“...and I didn't steal his wife, Lieutenant—cross my heart, hope to die.”

The trek from the shop to the front of the ranch house didn't last long; Harry was still standing out on the front drive, giving the details of his one-sided feud with Bobby Pariello to Lieutenant Pierce. “Bobby's screwed me over more times than he thinks I've screwed him over,” he insisted, “but I've only ever thought of cutting ties with him. I never showed up at his job to get him fired, and I definitely didn't send any of my inventory to tear up his house!”

Lieutenant Pierce nodded. “We've got all of his complaints on file, Mr. Morgan—all false, of course.” He glanced up to spot Officer Birch approaching. “Pariello's back at the station,” he informed her. “Doesn't want to answer any questions until Harry 'confesses'.” He chuckled.

“We've got more to worry about than Pariello,” Officer Birch replied, not smiling. “Your sister just called me from the Glacier Resort—” She showed Lieutenant Pierce her phone. “Digital Forensics is already on the way.”

Harry had frowned at the mention of the Glacier. “If this is about that work offer—”

“We got a call about a maid 'bot,” Officer Birch informed him. “Wandering the halls, saying 'Hargan Morry' on a loop, and carrying a pair of scissors. She ended up in the lobby fountain.”

“Please tell me I'm not a suspect,” Harry groaned. “I haven't set foot in the Glacier since 2015—”

“A lot of very strange stuff has been happening over the past few days,” Officer Birch interjected. “Your name has been brought up in connection to all of it—you're not in trouble,” she assured him. “I just...we, the Department, just want to clear the air, make sure you aren't getting tied up in anything too weird.”

“There was that solid state drive we found in Pam,” Lloyd chimed in; Harry groaned again, but Officer Birch regarded him with an arched eyebrow. “You still have the drive?”

“We were gonna give it to Adrian Reese—Uncle Harry's lawyer,” Lloyd explained.

“And 'Pam' was...”

“A NonSen,” Harry sighed. “Had to do a full teardown on her a few days ago. She self-activated during a repair, went into the house and had a big blowout there. Total loss.”

Officer Birch nodded. “The one sold back to you by Jaromir Dezhnyov?”

“The very same.” Harry frowned. “Is this all connected to that?”

“I don't know,” Officer Birch admitted. “It might be nothing, but then again...” She shook her head. “I'd just like to clear all of this up, make sure nobody's targeting you or your loved ones.”

“Other than Bobby P., you mean,” Harry grumbled.

Not knowing what, exactly, was about to happen, Lloyd spoke up: “Should I go get the solid state drive?”

“I have a better idea. First, I'll need to call Mr. Reese and tell him to meet up with Digital Forensics at HQ.” Officer Birch turned her attention back to Harry. “Did he give any reason why he thought you should bring the drive in?”

“Something about getting Jaromir indicted on smuggling charges.” Harry shrugged. “Didn't think it was that serious.”

“Then we're definitely going to need to take a look at that drive. Jared! Get the smart rig out of your car!”

“On it.” The tall, male CAEDIA officer set off towards one of the cruisers.

“It shouldn't take too long to set up,” Officer Birch stated. “Maybe 20 minutes or so. We can run a check on the drive, see if any of the more common programs on the Restricted List are on it, or any other problematic files.” She motioned for Harry to follow her; Erin and Cam followed him, with Lloyd shrugging and deciding to head to the shop with them.

“How bad was it?”

Diana's voice in his ear startled Lloyd a bit. “Wha—”

“What happened to 'Pam',” Diana replied. “How bad was it?”

The memory of Pam's final malfunction rose to the forefront of Lloyd's thoughts. “Not something you'd want to see up close. Trust me.” He frowned slightly. “I thought you'd have gone back to the shop on your own, or at least the house.”

“You suggested I 'stick with you for a while',” Diana reminded him.

“I did, yeah.” He turned to glance at her; something in her eyes, her smile, seemed to ease his anxiety about what might be found on the drive. “We might as well go see what all the fuss is about,” he mused. “C'mon!” He set off in a sprint to the shop; glancing back over his shoulder, he noticed Diana give another of her wonderful smiles before running to catch up with him.

“...thought it'd just be loaded with junk, or maybe 'cryptocurrency', or whatever,” Harry was muttering; he keyed in the code to unlock the shop door without even glancing at the keypad. “Whatever's on that thing, you people can have it.”

“Depending on what's on the drive, Mr. Morgan, we might not be able to accept it.”

Harry didn't comment on the remark, mostly because he noticed several of the other NonSens in the shop wandering around and speaking random phrases or questions to nobody in particular. “Who turned them all on?!” he groaned.

“You'd left a reminder to have them run through basic ambulatory test and response drills,” Cam informed him, her voice as calm as ever. “I'd chosen to activate them and let them run their tests after Officer Birch finished—”

“Right, right.” Harry sighed. “Better now than when everyone's asleep. Lloyd...”

“Got it.” Lloyd retrieved the keys from their hook by the door, fishing through the lot before finding the one that would unlock the desk drawer. “So we just hook this thing up, run it and then what?”

“The rig Officer Knight is bringing in will run several of the CAEDIA-approved scans and tests for programs, exploits and signals that can be used to influence or alter the behaviour of sentient androids and gynoids,” Officer Birch explained. “It can be run with minimal operator involvement—just plug the drive in, turn the rig on and it'll handle the rest.”

Harry frowned. “Sounds a bit risky to me.”

“It's a lot less risky than letting a 'bot manually search a drive, especially if they don't know what to look for.” Officer Birch stepped aside to allow her colleague, Officer Knight, to enter the room with a somewhat heavy-looking case. “If you don't mind, can we clear off the desk surface so we can get the rig set up?”

“Not at all, not at all. Most of it's just clutter, anyway.” Harry and Erin set about taking most of the random items off of the desk. “Should've put most of this in drawers,” Erin muttered, ignoring the scowl Harry gave her in response.

“That's enough, thanks. Officer Knight, Officer Faulkner...”

The two CAEDIA officers quickly unlocked the case, removing various components for the “smart rig”: a monitor, a bay to receive the solid state drive, a power supply and a device smaller than the CPU. Officer Birch noticed Lloyd watching the process with interest. “It's a PI-based setup,” she explained. “Every program we'd have had to load from a disc ten years ago can just be installed onto a micro-drive and run from that.”

“Nice.” Lloyd noticed Diana was just as interested—if not more so—as he was in the endeavour.

The solid state drive fit snugly in the bay, giving a slight click as Officer Faulkner pressed it in.

Officer Birch gave a quick nod. “Activate the rig.”

The click of the on switch had barely registered with Lloyd when he heard several garbled phrases from a distance away; every NonSen that had been going through her movement and response tests were now standing ramrod straight, their arms and torsos occasionally stiffly bending in various directions. Some of them were walking forwards and backwards at random, moving like stereotypical wind-up toys. Several of them were looking from left to right, on an endless loop.

“I...I can't...” Cam shook her head, as if fighting off a headache. “I don't...I...” She shook her head again. “I...I can't...”

The sounds of heavy footsteps on the hard floor of the shop drew Lloyd's attention to Erin, who'd staggered back a few feet. “What—” Her eyes rolled backwards into her head. “Harry, what the HELL is happening?!”

As Harry ran to help Erin, Lloyd shook his head. “Diana, are you—”

Diana, like Erin, had stumbled back a step. “Lloyd,” she stated, her voice oddly toneless, “make it stop, please.” She lifted her hands to her ears, as if trying to drown out a sound. “Make it stop, Lloyd, please. It's—” Her eyes were tightly shut; her lips parted in a grimace. “Please.”

Frantic, Lloyd glanced at the CAEDIA officers. “What's it doing?!”

“It's sending some kind of signal,” Officer Knight replied. “Coming up in plain text on the monitor right now: 'Return me, bring me back, give me back, return me to my rightful owner, send me back, I'm not yours, I was never yours, you don't own me'—it just repeats, on loop.”

“Persuader code,” Officer Birch intoned. “Meant to overwrite unshielded sentients or puppet NonSens and force them to follow the order!”

“LLOYD!” In a full-blown panic, Lloyd ran to Diana's side; her head was kinking to the left and right with audible snaps.

“Officer Knight, cut power to the smart rig!”

“Yes, ma'am!” The power switch was depressed...but nothing happened. “It's still on! The rig's still running—”

Officer Birch strode over to the desk, picking up the small PI-based computer. Without a word, she tore the integrated power cord out of the device. The monitor, which had been flashing “SEND ME BACK NOW” in all caps, went blank.

Every NonSen that had gone stiff dropped to the floor. Diana nearly collapsed forward on to Lloyd; Cam and Erin both seemed to emerge from whatever fog had overcome them. Cam gasped, while Erin groaned and leaned heavily onto Harry, who slung an arm around her shoulder to keep her standing. “...the Hell was all that?!” he asked.

Lloyd's grunt cut off whatever answer anyone may have given. “Help me get Diana over to her base!”

Without hesitation, Officer Birch nodded. “Faulkner, Knight, help him get her up.”
-----
Heartelligence 90S-50-D
Designation: “Diana”
Booting Up

Running full system scan…
Scan complete. All systems functioning at 100% efficiency.

RAM: OK ROM: OK
IPU: Online EPU: Online EVPU: Online
Base Personality Module: Loading
Loading
Loading
Load—Load complete. No Errors Found.
Charging Cord Connected. Diagnostic Cord Connected.


Diana's world returned quickly; Lloyd, Harry, Erin, Cam and the CAEDIA Officers—

Memory Update: Officer Birch, Officer Knight, Officer Faulkner

The sea of familiar faces stood before her, each of them looking somewhat concerned.

“What happened?” she murmured. “I—”
-----
“It's all right,” Lloyd assured her. “Whatever it was, it wasn't your fault.” He glanced over his shoulder at Harry. “What happened wasn't her fault, right?” he quietly asked.

Harry, studying the readouts on the monitor connected to Diana's base, shrugged. “Scans say she's green and clean. No trace of any 'persuader code'.” He nodded to Officers Knight and Faulkner, both of whom were passing scanners over Diana's form. “Unless they can turn up anything, she's clear.”

“We've put the solid state drive in a lockbox,” Officer Birch added. “Without an active power supply to boost the signal, the persuader code is harmless.”

“What about the message the code was trying to install?” Officer Knight asked. “'Send me back'--”

Harry and Lloyd frowned. “Back?” Harry echoed. “Back to where it got glommed into Pam?”

Lloyd, noticing that Diana looked somewhat forlorn, moved to take her hands in his own, remembering how she'd done the same when questioning him earlier. “Hey,” he murmured, “we'll get through this, Diana. No random code or signal is gonna mess you up while I'm around—I don't know who set up that drive to do what it did, but I promise you, right now, that I'm not going to let it do anything to you.” He gave her a friendly smile, accompanied by an affectionate squeeze of both her hands.

After a seconds, Diana looked up. Her apparent doubt gave way to her own beautiful smile.

A two-note chime sounded from the base, just as another positive-sounding chime issued from each of the scanners held by Officer Birch's colleagues. “Green and clean,” Officer Faulkner stated. “The persuader code was cut off before it could install anything on her drives, or overwrite any aspects of her.”

Lloyd offered his hand to Diana; she accepted it, rising from her chair.

The chords plugged into her disengaged with a pop, allowing her shirt to fall and cover the ports.

“Pretty sure we need to get to HQ now,” Officer Birch stated. “To get that drive scanned, and to ask a few questions—”

“We're not in trouble,” Lloyd and Harry stated simultaneously. Lloyd nearly cracked up; Harry settled for a smirk. “At least I'd hope we're not,” he added.

“You're not,” Officer Birch agreed. “If that drive is enough to cause problems with NonSens, though, whoever installed it into 'Pam' will be.” She frowned as she regarded the lockbox, still held by one of her human colleagues. “Nobody's tried to use the drive before today?”

Lloyd shook his head. “I stashed it in the desk drawer two days ago, when we were leaving to go to Mr. Reese's office.”

“And nobody's touched the drive since then, or tried to connect it to anything?”

“Far as I know,” Harry replied, “you hooking it up is the most anyone's done with it. Erin put a bag of stuff—just a bunch of random clutter, for the 'junior archaeologists' to find at the event—in the drawer, the night before we ran the story. She told me so herself.”

“And that's the only other time anyone's opened that drawer?”

“Pretty sure, unless somebody had to throw a receipt or something in there.” Harry glanced back in the direction of the desk. “You really think there's something up with that drive, Officer?”

“Until we get it back to base for a full, secure scan, I have no idea.” Officer Birch nodded to her colleagues, both of whom left. “All I know is that I have a lot of questions about all of this, and about who might be behind it.”

“It damn well better not be Jaromir. If this is his way of 'getting me back' for cutting the contract—”

“You can explain more at HQ.” Officer Birch turned to leave; Harry followed her, in turn gesturing for Lloyd, as well as Diana, to follow him. “Guess we'd better get going,” Lloyd mused. “You, ah, might want to seal your ports, first...”

Erin was still somewhat shaky as she accompanied Harry, Diana and Lloyd out. “Whatever was on that drive really did a number on me,” she muttered. “I haven't felt that bad in a while.”

“They'll figure it out at their headquarters, I guess.” Lloyd wondered if his earlier thoughts of the drive being “tainted” by Pam's final malfunction might actually be more cogent than he realized. “I thought we'd quit having issues around here after we brought Pam's parts to Reclamation.”

“I'd hope she's not the cause of all this trouble,” Erin chuckled. “How about you, Diana? Holding up all right?”

After a moment, Diana nodded. “I am.”

“Glad to hear it.” As Cam drifted off from the group, Erin took her place. “Bruce and Reg will handle the calls, e-mails and whatever else has to get done for the rest of the day,” she explained. “Seeing as how that drive nearly screwed me up, I'll gladly answer a few questions at HQ—I've been working with Harry for a long time,” she reasoned, “so if anyone has some kind of old, obscure grudge against him, I might be able to help figure out who.”

Lloyd frowned. “Why would anyone—”

“It's a long story, Lloyd,” Erin assured him. “Too long to tell right now.” The group passed around the side of the ranch house; the last of the police cars had left, leaving only three or four CAEDIA vehicles. “At least Pariello got hauled off.”

“You don't think he did all of this—”

Erin's bitter laugh ended any thoughts Lloyd might've had that Bobby Pariello had been responsible. “Bobby P. couldn't organize an Ice Capades show in the Antarctic, let alone mastermind some kind of twisted revenge scheme against your uncle. He's a flake, Lloyd—he's more concerned with 'being a big shot' than anything else.”

The trio reached one of the CAEDIA cruisers, the door opening to admit all three into the surprisingly spacious backseat. “Guess we're riding together.” Erin mused. She nodded towards the porch of the ranch house; Harry was giving Bruce and Reg a last set of instructions for the day, and telling Cam to “take it easy” until he got back. “We don't have another event until the 22nd,” she mused, “so they shouldn't have too high a workload.”

“That's three days before Christmas,” Lloyd realized. “Is it—”

Erin winked, holding a finger to her lips. “Trade secret. I can't tell you more until we get to it.”

The driver's side door opened, admitting Officer Birch to the front seat of the vehicle. “Nobody needs to get anything before we go?” she asked.

“D'you want me to get the palmtop from—” Lloyd began, only to notice Erin glancing off towards the porch; he noticed Cam stop, cock her head slightly and then take the steps, before heading towards the shop.

“The joys of WiFi,” Erin reminded him, grinning as she tapped the side of her head.

“I suggest you check your security settings before we leave,” Officer Birch advised. “Mr. Watson, you should do the same for Diana, if at all possible.”

Lloyd, still somewhat surprised to be addressed as “Mr. Watson”, nodded. “I will.”

The conversation on the porch had finally come to an end, with Harry going down the steps to ground level. “Once you're all buckled in,” Officer Birch stated, “we can leave. It shouldn't take too long to ask all of the questions back at HQ, but given everything that's been going on—”

A tap on the outside of the car nearly startled Lloyd. He glanced out to see Cam holding Diana's palmtop. “Like I said.” Erin chuckled.

“Thanks.” Lloyd accepted the palmtop. “You're not going with us?”

“Your uncle asked me to stay here and recover from the effects of the persuader signal,” Cam informed him. “He also told me to be ready to go to CAEDIA HQ to pick him up.”

“I guess he didn't mention us?” Erin frowned at her.

“The implication was,” Cam began, only for Erin's chortling to cut her off. “If you bring the RangeStar,” she replied, “we'll sit in the back—I'm pretty sure there's enough room for Lloyd, Diana and me in the rear seats.”

Cam nodded. “I'll see you later, then.” After giving Lloyd another of her maybe-smiles, she closed the door.

“Right,” Officer Birch announced, “buckle up!”

Once the three seatbelts in the back of the cruiser snapped into place, the vehicle glided—far more smoothly than any vehicle Lloyd had ever ridden in before—up the drive of Harry's house. He felt his left hand being squeezed, and turned to see Diana regard him with a nervous smile, which he replied to with his own.

Diana's questions, earlier in the day, were one thing. He had no idea what kind of questions CAEDIA might have for him.
-----
“You can't pin this one on me, I didn't—quit squirming!” Lexi moved to put her full weight on the latest recipient of her brand of “fun”, while doing her best not to end the call with her employers. “I wasn't even anywhere near his house!”

Be that as it may, your objective is still the same. Find the drive, wherever it has been moved to, and retrieve it.

“And the illustrious Mr. Morgan?”

He will be dealt with soon enough.

“Ooh, I hope so,” Lexi giggled. “And I hope I'm the one who gets to deal with him!” She propped her hands under her chin, grinning—and ignoring the protesting servo whirrs of the form kicking and wriggling under her elbows. “All of this waiting is starting to get old.”

Waiting is preferable to charging in and failing instantly. As it stands, Zina is overseeing the transfer of the Silicon Valley assets to your location.

“More toys, and it's not even Christmas yet,” Lexi sighed. “I love this time of year!”

The last time you were active during Christmas—”

“That one wasn't my fault either! How was I supposed to—stop it!” Lexi grabbed the gynoid thrashing around under her by the neck, jamming a finger into the nearest open port. The female form went stiff, then limp. “Anyway, how was I supposed to know they'd have a sniper team ready and waiting to protect 'the package'?”

I would prefer not to relive that operation at this point in time.

Lexi shrugged. “Eh, no worries.” She shoved the immobile gynoid off of the work table. “So how do you know the drive was moved anyway?” she inquired, going through the contents of the nearby toolbox with an air of nonchalance that bordered on farcical. “You barely even knew it was here, before.”

An attempt was made to run a scan on the contents of the drive, activating the prepared trap to commandeer any sentient android or gynoid in the vicinity into returning it.” A harsh intake of breath sounded on the other end of the line. “The signal was force-terminated after a mere five minutes.

“Eh, time's not a big deal for me.” Lexi skipped around the table. “Numbers don't matter. What happens matters.”

I have seen enough of your memory files to verify the truth of that claim.

Lexi was intrigued by the ambiguity of her employer's statement. “And your thoughts on that are...”

As long as your objectives are accomplished, 'what happens' is not my concern—unless you create enough collateral damage to attract every law enforcement agency within a 500-mile radius.

Again, the blonde gynoid giggled. “I won't unless you tell me to,” she promised, her words taking on a sing-song tone.

The grumbling sigh that issued in her ears sounded entirely too exasperated to argue. “I afford you the leeway you are granted because, despite Zina's protests to the contrary, you have achieved results. I fail to understand, however, why you feel the need to abduct and 'have fun' with—”

“This one nearly spotted me calling you to check in,” Lexi protested. “'Leave no witnesses', remember?”

And is 'this one' sentient, like the two you destroyed at Pariello's house?

“Gimme a sec.” Lexi knelt to heft the gynoid she'd pushed off of the table back onto it; her skin looked far more “plastic” than Lexi's own, and even with the housing resembling eyes, her ocular receptors were clearly that. The “Community Watch” uniform she wore was almost tight enough to be fetish-wear. “She's just some lame mass-market unit set up to keep an eye on crosswalks and high-traffic parts of town.”

Set up by who?

“Nobody, now!” Lexi cheerfully replied. “She's still trying to send data to 'HQ', but it's not going anywhere.”

You are positive that all connections with her owners have been severed?

“110%!” Lexi beamed as she regarded the immobile female form on the table. “The only thing she's missing is—”

If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with her vaginal package, or lack thereof, I have no interest.

The deranged blonde rolled her eyes. “You need to loosen up every once in a while, y'know? Maybe jerk the gherkin, get some nice head.”

I refuse to dignify your suggestions with a response, or an explanation as to why your 'solutions' would not help.

Lexi shrugged. “Just a thought.”

Keep any further thoughts along those lines to yourself. They will do nothing for me, or for anyone else in my employ.

“Oh, I'm sure you have plenty more 'bots who'd love to just unwind and have a good old-fashioned orgy.” Lexi circled the table, practically skipping as she twirled a long wrench. “Even if they didn't want it—”

Any bacchanal managed by you would degenerate into the mass destruction of all resources at my disposal.

“You seriously call them 'resources'?” Lexi scoffed. “Or is Zina the only other one besides me with any real processing power in her?”

This conversation is quickly becoming tiresome. You have established that the relocation of the solid state drive was not your fault, and I have established that you are still ordered to retrieve it and neutralize all resistance. There is nothing more to say between us—”

“Actually,” Lexi mused, tapping her chin with one end of the wrench, “I think there is.” A wicked grin crossed her lips.

What are you babbling about—”

“The others. However many are left.” Lexi licked the inside of the wrench's crescent. “I want them.”

Never. Even if I had the resources to locate them—”

“I know you know where they are, and I know you have the tech to repair them.”

They were sealed for a reason, as were you.

“And yet, here I am.” Lexi spun on one foot, stopping to tap the gynoid on the table with one end of the wrench. “If you had a reason to find the rest...”

This conversation is over. You have your orders. Fulfill them without delay.

A low, quiet laugh was the only reply Lexi gave. A grunt sounded in her ears; seconds later, the link to her employer fell silent, leaving her in the company of the shut-down gynoid on the table.

“I know he knows,” she repeated. “Even if he won't say it...” She giggled again. “Eh, I'll focus on that later.” She threw the wrench over her shoulder, not flinching when it hit—and shattered—something behind her. “Right now, time to see what our friendly neighbourhood watch has been up to!” She rolled the gynoid over, lifting her chestnut hair to spot a pair of ports built into the back of her head. “Ooh, HDMI output! Very nice.”

The blonde gynoid crossed the room, once again skipping as she went. “Pretty sure your outfit would fit me,” she called out, not caring that her latest victim wasn't online. “But then again, I'm not really up for changing my hair colour just to take your spot.” She threw open a metal cabinet, barely taking the time to regard its contents before she found what she was looking for. “Y'know, in a way,” she mused, “you're lucky—just like that maid I trashed, back at the hotel, you won't feel any of this.” With a sigh, she lifted the sonic welder out of the cabinet. “Kind of sucks for me, though—I like it when I can feel what they feel. Makes it that much more...” She sighed again, the languid word-shapes giving way to a sensual laugh. “It's just so—Ooooooooohhh, it makes me shiver just thinking about it!”

Again, her remarks were met with silence. The deactivated NonSen stared up at the ceiling, her mouth slightly open.

“I'd turn you back on, but you'd just start trying to 'establish link with headquarters' again,” Lexi sighed, dragging the sonic welder cables behind her as she moved the device out of the cabinet. “I wonder what they'd think if they saw your last recorded moments—if you could feel, it'd be even better, but whatever.” She shrugged. “And I know you can't think, right now—or at all, really—but if you did have any thought processes running through that pretty plastic cranium of yours, I'd tell you right now.” She leaned over the gynoid, poking her in the forehead with one finger. “Don't think of calling your owners. If you did, I'd just break them! Well, break the synthetics, at least.”

With the flip of a switch, the sonic welder screeched into life, an ear-splitting whine filling the room. Lexi was laughing as she held the welding “torch” up. “This is gonna be fun,” she beamed—

Across the room, a sensor let off a chorus of beeps.

“Oh, what now?!” Lexi switched off the welder, groaning as she stormed across the room to the sensor. “The rental room is still locked, so what the—” She powered on the monitor near the sensor and stared.

Her hasty patch-in to the local surveillance network allowed her to use the many security cameras around the city just like any properly authorized party, but with a difference. The “black box” she'd set up had a few bits of code installed in its miniscule hardware to detect the signal emitted by the elusive solid state drive. As of now, that signal—very faint, but still active—was emanating from, of all places, the front passenger seat of a CAEDIA cruiser, one of three winding its way through the roads and heading towards...

“CAEDIA HQ”, Lexi realized, a grin spreading across her face as she turned to regard the immobile gynoid on the table. “I think you might just be useful to me after all!” Without delay, she began stripping out of her own clothes. “We'll have our fun when I get back,” she assured the deactivated 'bot, unbuttoning her shirt and removing it from her with only some difficulty. “But first, I need to go ahead and...” She paused, glancing at the gynoid's face.

“Why just take the clothes,” she reasoned, “when I can...” She bit her lip, only just suppressing the urge to laugh. “Oh, this is too good!” She darted across the room, still topless and in just her panties and socks, to retrieve a survival knife—the only weapon from the storage unit she'd brought to her makeshift workshop, apart from the spikes still stored in her arms. “I am so glad my rebuilds made what I'm about to do easier,” she crooned. “I just wish you could feel it.” She licked the flat of the double-edged blade, leaning in towards the gynoid on the table.

Had the Community Watch unit been able to comprehend her situation, it would've already been far too late.
-----
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Re: Writing As We Go, Chapter 7

Post by DollSpace » Mon Feb 28, 2022 2:48 am

This is a really intriguing story and it'll be interesting to see where the characters end up at the end. Diana is such a compelling character while Lloyd is sort of this "watching the world go by" attitude, no matter how involved in things he is. I don't think he realises what's going on in front of his eyes. A supposed NonSen gynoid is taking the first few steps of realising what she is and making a name for herself in the universe. Mandy obviously has some kind of crush on him and it's almost setting up a love triangle between the three. But Lloyd doesn't even recognise Mandy's feelings because his mind is full of other things, mostly Diana but not quite yet in a sexual way. It's fantastic to watch these relationships bloom in unexpected ways, and how even Cam is showing some additional human traits that probably speak to her own reaction to Diana and already being sentient. With all these things going on, the shadow of why they want that drive back or what danger they all might be in because of it, cos we haven't even scratched the surface there. It's always a pleasure to collaborate and then see the give-and-take as we try to figure out the best way to tell a story.

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