Writing As We Go, Chapter 12

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Writing As We Go, Chapter 12

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Sat Apr 23, 2022 12:35 pm

“Ah, sure, sure!” Lloyd stepped aside, surprised to see Mandy at his door in jeans and a JSUB jumper, hair tied up in a pony tail. “How'd you get my—”

“Pizza?” Mandy finished. “I met the delivery driver at the curb—consider this my exam week Christmas gift to you.”

You paid for it?”

Mandy nodded. “I figured it'd be one less thing for you to worry about. Where do I—”

“The desk,” Lloyd nodded to the furniture in question. “Just set it down—I'll make room for it, if I have to.”

As she moved to place the pizza box on the desk, Mandy regarded the hardcover textbook on Lloyd's bed. “You do know that there are paperless editions of that available,” she reminded him, “right?”

Lloyd shrugged. “I always liked actual books more,” he admitted. “Something about actually being able to turn the page, instead of just swiping up and down or side-to-side on a screen.” He moved to the bed and held up the book, briefly thumbing through it. “Tactile stuff, y'know?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Mandy acquiesced as she took off her shoes. “But how'd you—”

“Used bookstore on campus. Got it for a song, like Uncle Harry would say.” Lloyd chuckled. “I'm guessing you've got your notes with you?”

Mandy held up a tablet PC. “Always.”

“Well, let's not waste any time, then. You want the desk, or, ah....”

“The bed's fine—”

“I mean, if you prefer sitting in a chair, with a back and everything,” Lloyd stammered, “it's not that big of a deal to me, to be honest. I can sit on the bed, let you have the desk—just don't knock over the pizza, is all—” The hands on his shoulder cut him off. “Why don't we both sit on the bed?” Mandy offered.

“Both?” Lloyd echoed. The word was rendered as something bordering a squeak.

“Why not?”

After a few moments of silent pondering, Lloyd nodded. “Why not?” In less time than it'd taken him to ponder it, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, right next to Mandy. Not wanting to let an awkward silence develop, he reached past Mandy to get the textbook, muttering a quiet “'xcuse me” as he moved. “It's not out of date,” he stated, as if to justify his purchase of the hardcover. “Everything we're going over in class is covered.”

“Well, if it covers everything,” Mandy mused, “I guess it's as good as paperless.”

“Some do, some don't. For those that do, I stick with the already published material.”

For the next few minutes, the pair went over their notes, the textbooks and other trivia that might end up playing any role in the upcoming exams. Lloyd was engrossed in the discussion—but not enough to ignore the occasional brush of Mandy's hand on his knee, or her sideways glances and shy smiles. Occasionally, their hands would come to rest atop one another; Lloyd almost apologized, the first time, only to catch Mandy regarding him with a curious look. Any hint of an apology faded on Lloyd's tongue. There was nothing to apologize for, after all. Their studying continued, in this way, for a good twenty minutes or so.

After a while, Mandy decided that she and Lloyd could quiz each other—the actual exam would be entirely silent, but it wouldn't hurt to get a good measure of what the pair of them knew, and how quickly they could answer any one of the given questions. Lloyd went first. To ease his nerves, he asked an unrelated question. “So, Mandy...is that short for Amanda?”

Mandy laughed out loud. “No, no, it's just Mandy. I was named after a song my parents liked from way, way back. I don't know why they did that, and if I asked, I forget their answer. So come on, ask me some real ones.” Lloyd then went down a set of ten questions that she answered to the best of her ability. Each of her answers turned out to be correct, according to the notes they both went over.

With Mandy having performed well on her questions, it was time for the pair to switch: she asked Lloyd a different set of questions, and he answered. For the first three, she'd indicate if he was right or wrong by simply saying so; after the fourth question, however, he had to glance at her to see if she'd nodded or shook her head. By the time he made it to the sixth of the ten questions, he was somewhat nervous; was this some kind of test ''within'' a test?

“Ah, Mandy,” he asked, turning to glance at the “quiz giver” sitting next to him, “did I get it right—”

To his surprise, Mandy had leaned in and kissed him full on the lips.

He was still somewhat stunned when he felt her hands on his back, drawing him closer—after a few seconds, he began to reciprocate. The kiss continued for a few more seconds before Mandy pulled back, smiling. “I think that's enough studying for today,” she murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

Lloyd tried to say something, to ask something, but eventually abandoned the effort.
-----
“...and Uncle Bobby knows me, he hasn't been by in ages, but I'm pretty sure he'd remember me!”

The receptionist at the Billings Police Station frowned as she beheld the gaudily-dressed girl standing in the lobby. With flame-orange hair, sunglasses (worn indoors, and after sunset, at that), and a wardrobe that looked like a music video version of how people in and around Hollywood should dress, she seemed more like a caricature of a tourist, rather than the niece of the currently-imprisoned Bobby Pariello. “I just need to see some identification, ma'am.”

At this, the girl groaned, but proceeded to fish around in her purse. The two standing behind her—she'd called them her “BFFs”, though they seemed to act more like bodyguards—hadn't moved an inch, and were apparently content to just wait for her to finish her business.

“THERE it is.” The girl handed over her wallet. “Everything's in there. Now lemme see Uncle Bobby! I wanna make sure he's okay!”

The receptionist regarded the documentation in the wallet, briefly glancing back at the wallet's owner. There was a hint of something that might've been desperation in her features, but she didn't voice her concerns. After a few minutes, the receptionist's search came back clean. “Well?”

“You're clear. Just wait a few minutes so Mr. Pariello can be brought to a secure area for visitation.” The receptionist keyed in something on the building's intercom and spoke.

Had she bothered to glance at the girl on the other side of the bulletproof window of the reception area, she might've spotted the briefest flash of a psychotic smirk, the faintest glint of malicious intent in her eyes. Of course her records were spotless—a late-night data mining expedition had uncovered the documentation for Bobby Pariello's actual niece—dead since 2019, thanks to a drunk driver. Luckily, the deceased had no criminal record of her own

Hopefully, getting “Uncle Bobby” out of the building would be just as easy as getting into it.
-----
It didn't matter to Lloyd that the textbook, or his notes, had been accidentally nudged off of the bed onto the floor of his dorm room. His focus, at that moment, was on Mandy—on her hands, as they explored his body; on her lips, pressed against his; on her gentle touch, her steady rhythm.

The two went, as one, to the bed—but there was no move from Mandy to suddenly go for Lloyd's shirt, or to tear off her own. Her hands moved slowly, seeming to trace patterns in his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Finding that he quite enjoyed the sensation, he reciprocated, his own efforts slightly clumsy at first. Apparently, Mandy didn't seem to mind; when she pulled back from their kiss, the sigh that left her lips was a clear sign that his efforts weren't in vain.

Lloyd found his thoughts drifting back to the weekend—not to Bobby P.'s inexplicable, unwarranted and very obviously unwelcome intrusion onto Uncle Harry's property, but to Diana. She'd had so many questions that morning.

One of them rose, unbidden, to the forefront of Lloyd's mind: “Do you love me?”

It seemed, at the time, completely random—yet now, here, with Mandy, Lloyd couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

“Mandy,” he murmured, “do you—”

Without a word, Mandy turned his head to face hers, and kissed him full on the lips again.

For what felt like an eternity, Lloyd and Mandy lay together, entwined; their hands roamed each other's bodies, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. The sounds of campus life beyond the dorm room seemed to fade into the background. The cars rushing by, the music blaring from someone else's room a block or so away, the distant voices of other JSU-B students briefly meeting as they crossed the campus...all of it seemed to recede, not quite going silent, but becoming muted, pushed below the threshold of contemplation.

Far more important—to Lloyd, at least—was everything he was feeling as he and Mandy kissed.

The question he'd tried to ask—“Do you love me?”—he realised, had many shades. Without words, without quoting a song or a movie or a TV show or “borrowing” from someone else, Mandy had told him she wanted him, was interested in him and wanted to be with him, in many ways. While he still was thinking of Diana, he also knew he felt a tingling, a stirring towards Mandy, knowing what just happened. He had a more carnal desire at the moment, but also a protective feeling to keep Mandy safe. Diana kind of faded into the background for now.

If there were some way to snapshot that precise moment in time, preserve it...he would. Without question.

The exams, Bobby P. turning up at the house and waving a gun around, all of the weirdness from the past few days—it all seemed to blur, to fade. All of these concerns, these issues, had their place, but at that point in time, they were simply irrelevant. What mattered, at that moment, was being with Mandy, and the two of them being happy. Their feelings for each other, their actions, weren't merely instinctual, thoughtless acts of lust—there was a far deeper connection, a much more meaningful link between them.

Time seemed meaningless. The sun had set, but neither Lloyd nor Mandy knew the exact time—nor did they care. They were more than happy to lay next to each other, one tracing their fingers across the other's limbs. No words were said, and none were needed. The one time Lloyd thought of something to say, he turned to regard Mandy—and yet again, her lips met his.

After he finally, reluctantly drew back, something else managed to make itself apparent to Lloyd: in the time since Mandy had shown up to his dorm, he'd wanted—needed to tend to something else. He thought, for a moment, about just what that something might've been.

The sight of the pizza box on his desk immediately reminded him of what he'd forgotten.

“I, ah, I just realized something, Mandy.”

“Yeah?”

“I, ah, I am actually pretty hungry.” Lloyd glanced over his shoulder to the pizza box.

Almost instantly, he felt like an idiot for having spoken—but Mandy surprised him yet again. Instead of getting annoyed or flat-out angry at his sudden, apparent disinterest in her, she giggled. “I'm actually pretty hungry, too.” she admitted, nodding at the pizza box. “Shall we?”

Lloyd grinned. “Let's eat.”

The two nearly tripped over each other getting up from the bed. The near-mishap prompted another bout of giggling from Mandy, with Lloyd having to chuckle at the absurdity of it himself. Mandy was the first to reach the desk-and, by proxy, the pizza box, lifting the lid and taking in a massive whiff of the delectable meal inside. “Let me guess,” she mused. “Meat Lover's?”

“That's not a problem, is it?”

“Nope.” Mandy opened the lid fully. “Though I know one relative on Mom's side of the family who thinks 'pizza' should just be the dough, the sauce and cheese—no toppings other than that.”

“Isn't the cheese a topping itself?” Lloyd mused, reaching into the pizza box to grab a slice.

“There have been many long, loud debates over that exact issue,” Mandy replied, rolling her eyes as she retrieved a slice for herself. “I try not to get involved.” She took a bite, nodding contentedly at the taste. “Mmm!” She nodded again, as Lloyd took a bite of his own slice. “This is good!

“It really is,” Lloyd agreed.

The two enjoyed their meal, conversing about various things in between bites. Lloyd admitted to having bought Diana with him to the Rimrock Mall, the day before, but decided not to mention that he'd gone so far as to get a purse for her as a gift (by necessity, he also left out their encounter with the would-be purse snatcher). He did mention the fact that he and Diana had left earlier than originally planned—and the reason for it: “I can't explain why,” he stated, “but I felt a lot like there was someone watching me. Just staring, from a shop doorway.”

“Did you notice anyone in particular?” Mandy asked.

Lloyd shrugged. “I didn't turn to look, or anything—I guess I didn't want them to spot me spotting them spying on me.”

With a slice of pizza dangling from one hand, Mandy draped her other arm around Lloyd's shoulder. “I don't know why anyone would want to do anything to hurt you, Lloyd—but if there was someone there who had bad intentions in mind for you, I'm just glad you're safe.” She hugged him as much as she could with one arm.

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” She offered him the slice of pizza she was holding in her other hand, moving it just close enough to his face for him to attempt to bite at it. Any lingering tension from the quiz was long gone by now; thus, Lloyd eagerly tried to nibble on the elevated slice, nearly falling over Mandy in the process. The two laughed, and Mandy settled for handing over the slice.

Any and all stress and worry left Lloyd's thoughts as he looked into Mandy's eyes.
-----
Bobby Pariello's ersatz niece did her best to keep her composure as she followed the officer to the holding area—not out of, as the officer probably suspected, some long pent-up emotion over seeing her uncle in jail, but because she wanted, so badly, to burst out laughing. The ruse had worked astonishingly well, so far; her “borrowed” face (modeled after that of Pariello's actual niece, dead since 2019 thanks to a drunk driver), the forged identity and her completely made-up tale of woe were all combining to get her even closer to her objective—removing Pariello from the station, to facilitate his eventual removal from life altogether—quite spectacularly.

Granted, there were still a few avenues by which things could go sideways...

In the cell he'd been moved to, Pariello looked like an absolute slob. He wasn't even sitting upright on the bunk, having chosen to just fall asleep in a probable effort to lose himself in dreams where he was every bit the “big shot” he'd always told his acquaintances he'd be. He hadn't shaved, and stank abominably.

“Mr. Pariello,” the officer declared, “there's someone here to—”

Pariello merely groaned, trying to turn over on the bunk.

“Uncle Bobby, will ya look at yourself already! You look horrible!”

At the unfamiliar voice, Pariello raised his head just enough to get a glimpse. His “niece” could tell he was still probably half-asleep, barely able to focus. “Whuh?”

“Uncle Bobby, it's me! Remember?”

The only “statement” Pariello made was something that sounded vaguely like “fargle” before his head drooped, a loud snore leaving his lips.

“What's wrong with him?!” Despite the fact that she had even worse things in mind for Pariello than any imagined illnesses, brief beatings or possible mistreatment he'd already been through, his “niece” was utterly convincing in her anger towards the police. “If I find out you people did anything to my uncle Bobby—”

“He's been attacked by one other inmate, ma'am,” the officer assured her. “Just a punch in the nose, is all.”

And you let him get hit?!

“Ma'am, we—”

“Where's my phone?! I'm calling my lawyer right now—

“Ma'am, if you're here to post his bail, then we can finish that transaction at the front desk, and your uncle will be in your custody in a few '''''minutes'''''.” The officer sounded as tired of Pariello as the other police station employees (and the residents of the other cells) looked. “We'll have this all sorted soon enough.”

“I'd hope so. Seeing him locked up like some kinda criminal—it's dehumanizing!

As the officer moved to let Bobby out of the cell, the irony of her remark was all too apparent to his “niece”. Anything that'd happened to him in the drunk tank would pale in comparison to what she had in mind for him. The idiot didn't even realize that he was being bailed out of jail by someone impersonating a dead relative of his; that, in and of itself, would make his eventual fate all the more hilarious. As long as everything went smoothly, there'd be no need to fall back on the contingency plans and bring down more heat.

Granted, it might be fun to activate them, just because.
-----
“Lloyd?”

“Yeah?”

“That pizza was pretty good.” Mandy lazily traced her finger across Lloyd's abdomen, turning to grin at him.

“It was, wasn't it?” Lloyd felt too full to do anything other than let Mandy “draw” on him, at the moment. “Thanks for bringing it.”

“You're welcome.” Mandy lightly poked Lloyd's stomach, giggling. “We'll never get any studying done at this rate,” she reminded him; the tone of her voice made it clear that she wasn't all too concerned about failing the exam.

Lloyd grunted and turned over. “I think we're good.” The clock on his desktop computer was now in his field of view.

“Lloyd?”

“Just checking the time. You, ah, don't need to call a rideshare or anything when it gets late, do you?”

Mandy edged closer to Lloyd, draping an arm across him. “Right now, the only two things I need are in this room,” she replied, again tracing a pattern on his abdomen with one finger.

“Really?”

“Mmmh-hmm.”

“And what are they?”

In lieu of a verbal reply, Mandy slowly raised one finger, until she was pointing at Lloyd.

“Well, ah, that's...” Lloyd chuckled nervously. “That's, ah, only one thing, out of two,” he admitted. “I mean, I'm only one, out of—”

Mandy leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

“So, ah,” Lloyd managed, “what's the other only thing you need?”

At this, Mandy sighed and pointed to the small case she'd brought to the dorm room with her.

“Your ventilator?”

“I can put it on myself,” Mandy explained, “but I can't talk once it's on.” She sighed again. “I won't need to put it on for another hour or so,” she continued. “I'll just set it up later, and when the time comes, I'll show you how to help me start it up.”

The fact that she trusted Lloyd enough to help with her ventilator was rather reassuring. “Got it. And when—”

Mandy pressed a finger to Lloyd's lips.

With that, the two simply laid there, in Lloyd's bed, happy to be with each other. Outside, the hustle and bustle of campus life was still going strong; whoever had been blasting music had finally turned it down.

For now, all was right with the world.
-----
“Make sure he doesn't bash his head on the door when he gets in the car, okay? I don't wanna have to bring him to a doctor's office tomorrow!” Bobby Pariello's “niece” nodded as her two friends guided the still-groggy Pariello out of the lobby of the police department. Everything had gone according to plan, without the need to use the contingencies she'd prepared for the situation. With a last “thank-you” nod to the receptionist, she turned to leave—

“—is Pariello not in the drunk tank?!”

Any human being would've had to strain to hear Lieutenant David Pierce's question, directed at another officer several rooms away from the lobby—but it was all too clear for the gynoid impersonating Pariello's dead niece.

“His niece just showed up to bail him out, said she was in town on business—”

“Pariello's niece is dead! Got killed in a five-car pileup, four years ago!”

“Her papers checked out, sir—”

“Run the check again, on the current status of those papers! Where's Pariello now?”

“He just left, sir, brought out to a car—”

With a sigh that quickly faded to a low chuckle, the ersatz “niece” kept on walking towards the exit. She heard a door thrown open behind her, ignored the receptionist's polite-yet-confused “Ma'am?” and kept right on walking.

When Lieutenant Pierce uttered the word “ma'am”, probably intending to follow it with a “we'd like to ask you a few questions”, Pariello's “niece” broke into a flat sprint.

“STOP HER!”

The car was ready to go by the time Lexi had reached it. She'd abandoned any pretence of keeping up her disguise as soon as she heard Pierce interrogating another cop, flinging the driver's side door open and slipping herself into the driver's seat. To her two “BFFs”, sitting with Pariello in the back, she gave a clear, concise order: “Strap him in and make sure he keeps his mouth shut!”

Lieutenant Pierce and four other officers had just stormed out of the exit, catching sight of Lexi just as she finished giving the order. Without hesitation, Pierce took a step towards the car. “Step out of the vehicle, now—

“How about later?” Lexi stomped the gas pedal. “OR NEVER?!” The car roared away from the police station.

Maniacal laughter filled the interior of the car as it sped away from the police, just as various options and dialogue boxes filled Lexi's field of vision. All three of her contingency plans were on display, ready to be activated—they wouldn't keep the law off of her tail, but they'd definitely slow down the pursuit if need be.

“Which one to trip first?” she mused. “You two have any ideas?”

One of the NonSens in the backseat piped up: “It's a steal of a deal at Albertson's this week—”

“Why did I even bother,” Lexi grumbled. “I think I'll just trip all three at once—give 'em more to worry about than trying to catch me.” She licked her lips, chuckling as she prepared to activate her three traps. “Oh, this job is just too much fun, sometimes!” As the car glided through a red light, into a turn, she glanced back at Pariello—once again snoring his head off in the backseat.

In a few short hours, he'd be wishing he could stay asleep, lost in his pathetic dream-world...
-----
“So ''how'' long have you been living at your uncle's?”

“A few years, now.” Lloyd sighed. “Haven't seen my parents since 2018 or so—haven't heard from them, either. They didn't just dump me there and leave,” he added. “It was a business thing—international, I think.”

“What kind of business?”

Lloyd shrugged. “They never said.”

The two were still laying on Lloyd's bed, content to just be close to each other and talk. The TV had been turned on, its volume set to low; the current channel was a local news station, going on about the upcoming Christmas break.

“What got you interested in robotics in the first place?”

At this, Lloyd frowned. He had a faint memory—seeing a partially-assembled robot, definitely a humanoid figure, in a room somewhere, but the details were always fuzzy. It was almost like trying to recall a dream, from ages ago, or trying to conjure up memories of a long-forgotten TV show that only ran for a single season.

“Lloyd?”

“Sorry.” Lloyd blew out a frustrated sign. “I was just trying to remember the specifics.” He felt Mandy squeeze his hand. “No worries.”

“Thanks.” He turned to glance at her. “What about you?” Before Mandy could answer, Lloyd's phone rang. “What now,” he groaned. With a muttered “sorry”, he did his best to move over Mandy without falling onto her, getting out of bed and reaching for the phone perched on his desk. “Yeah?”

If I'd have been someone trying to get you to join a multi-level marketing scam—

“Hello to you too, Erin.” Lloyd ignored the chortling from the other end of the line.

Bad time?

“No, I was just in the middle of studying for the exam later this week.”

At this time of the night?

Yes,” Lloyd insisted. “I ordered in, and we've been—”

We've been?”

Mandy giggled, and Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Mandy showed up with my pizza.”

Really.

“We've been studying!” Lloyd insisted. “Not—” He trailed off again; Erin was once again holding in a laugh on the other end of the line. “Did you just call to bug me,” he asked, “or is there something going on back at the house that I need to know about?”

The silence on the other end of the line troubled him. “Erin?”

You don't have to jump into the RangeStar and haul it back here, or anything,” Erin began, “but Harry's considering—

“He's not selling Diana, is he?” Lloyd nearly flinched when something touched his shoulder, only to realize it was Mandy's hand. “Did something—”

He's not selling her, but—promise me you're not going to freak out and break the speed limit to get back here.

“I won't freak out, just tell me—”

Diana might be getting SafeSense installed in her tomorrow. Harry's letting her make the call.

At the mention of SafeSense, Lloyd frowned. “Why would she need SafeSense?”

Someone 'gave her a ride' this morning—

What?!

I thought you said you wouldn't freak out—”

“I'm not,” Lloyd stammered, “I—I'm not, I just, I....what do you mean, someone gave her a ride?”

She wanted to get to a car park closer to the campus, but she ended up going on a joyride around Billings, instead.” The tone of Erin's voice had turned positively grim. “And the one behind the wheel...” A few mutterings, barely audible, went over the line before she continued. “We're all just thankful that Diana didn't get damaged, or anything.”

“So that's why she's getting SafeSense installed?”

It's why she might be getting it installed. Like I said, her choice.

“Right, right...but she's safe?”

She's in the shop right now—still online.” There was a hint of admiration in Erin's tone. “Props to Heartelligence,” she mused, “they really know how to—

“Has she made up her mind about the SafeSense thing, yet?”

Not yet,” Erin replied. “Why?

“I want to talk to her about it.” Lloyd gave Mandy a reassuring glance. “Before she makes her decision.”

Well, you can talk to her tomorrow morning. The shop's locked up as it is.

“Why—”

What I'm about to say is just between us, Lloyd. You don't tell any—” There was a pause in Erin's remark. “I guess you can tell Mandy, but other than her, nobody.

“Erin, what happened?!

We just got a call from that cop who arrested Bobby over here on Saturday. ''Someone just bailed Bobby out of jail, and took off like a shot after—I don't know the specifics, but the cop said the one who paid Bobby P's bail might be armed and dangerous.”

Lloyd was both scared and slightly confused. “Why would anyone—”

I have no idea who in their right mind would want to post Bobby Pariello's bail, but I get the feeling they aren't in their right mind. And before you ask, I'm pretty sure we were called and notified because Bobby did threaten to shoot Harry two days ago.”

Despite his desire to not remember that incident, Lloyd nodded. “I still don't get who would—”

I don't get it either, Lloyd, but that doesn't change the fact that someone's done it. Whatever the case, just stay safe and—wait, I'm getting another call. Back in a sec.” The line went silent, leaving Lloyd to ponder what—

“Lloyd?”

Mandy's voice, over his left shoulder, brought him out of his funk. “That was Erin, from back at the house.”

“She's the one who looks kind of...plasticky, right?”

“Yeah. She just called to tell me that someone bailed Bobby P. out of jail—”

“The guy that hit you?”

“That's him, yeah—” Lloyd's phone rang again, from the same number as the previous call. “Yeah?”

You're in your dorm right now, right?”'

“With Mandy, yeah. Why—”

Lock the door and windows, and don't let anyone else in.”

“Erin, what—”

CAEDIA just called, since the cops just called them. They know who bailed Bobby P. out from the drunk tank.” Erin's voice suggested that the revelation was very, very bad news.

“And?”

The one who posted his bail is the same one who tore up his house last week—and who bricked two sentients there.”

Lloyd barely heard himself gasp, barely felt the phone almost fall from his hand.

Tell Mandy that it'll be safer to hunker down with you for the night, and like I already said, lock the windows and door.

“I will. Thanks, Erin.”

Be safe, Lloyd.”

With that, Lloyd ended the call and stowed his phone in his pants pocket, before turning his attention to a waiting—and understandably inquisitive—Mandy. “That was Erin, again,” he explained. Before Mandy could ask what the call had been about, he continued: “You don't have any problems staying here for tonight, do you?”

“Like I said earlier, I have everything I need right here.” Mandy squeezed Lloyd's hand again. “We'll sort out tomorrow morning when we get there.”

There was something reassuring in Mandy's answer. “Makes sense to me,” he mused, smiling.
-----
Erin watched as Diana sat, motionless, on a chair near the dining room table. Her expression was pensive, as if she was lost in thought; her misadventure with the strange driver from earlier in the day seemed to be a distant memory. Her face went through multiple expressions—thoughtful, scared, joyful—over the course of a few seconds. By the time she'd run the gamut of emotions, Diana blinked a few times, barely regarding the text disappearing from her field of view.

“Erin? Is something—”

“Nothing's wrong, you're not in trouble and the base is still in the shop,” Erin replied. “I asked you to sit and chat with me up here in the house because I wanted to talk to you, for a bit, before you go into Sleep Mode for the night.”

“Oh.” Diana nodded.

After giving a remarkably human sigh, Erin continued. “Over the past few days, your development has been...amazing,” she admitted. She'd done her due diligence on Heartelligence—about how their 'bots tended to undergo spontaneous sentience events (SSEs), among other things—but she'd never read about any seeming to develop as fast as Diana had.

“Is this related to why I have to stay in the lab at night?”

Erin frowned; she'd wanted to bring that up sooner or later, but Diana had beaten her to the punch. “Well,” she began, “that is where your charging base is—”

“But I'm more comfortable up here,” Diana interjected. “When I'm in the lab, Cam doesn't really talk to me, and you—”

“Cam tends to lose herself in her work,” Erin replied—Cam's focus on any given task at hand was legendary among the employees of SCIE's Jefferson franchise. “She's also not really, ah, all that sociable. As for me, I'm just busy—though I am a lot more chatty.” She shrugged. “You'd think I'd be the stoic one, what with the Utility bodykit and all, but who knows? And anyone can get lost in work—or thought, like you seem to be.”

That remark earned a nod from Diana. “I am,” she admitted. “I've read up on this 'SafeSense' program, but there's just so much information about it! And I have to run simulations on how it might affect so many potential scenarios I might find myself in, in a day-to-day basis—I've tried to narrow them down to the most probable.”

Erin suppressed a chuckle. “It's a lot to take in, I know—”

“I've also been reading a lot about beds—the design might make it easier for me to charge somewhere out of the lab.”

Erin arched an eyebrow.

“I have more than one charging port,” Diana continued, pointing to herself. “One at the base of my neck, and one on my upper left bicep.” The port in question was currently hidden by her shirt, which she rolled up to expose her arm. “It's fully compatible with USB 1.0 to USB 3.0 cables, which would be easier to use with regular outlets—or a bed.”

“So you're saying you want...what, a room of your own?”

“I was shipped with pyjamas,” Diana mused, “but I haven't even worn a set since I've been unboxed!”

At this, Erin couldn't help but laugh. “That sounded like it came straight out of your sales brochure,” she admitted. “I have an inflatable mattress in my room—we can try that for tonight, and talk to Harry about alternative options for your accommodations tomorrow. I'm not saying I can promise anything,” she quickly added, “but...” She sighed; she'd brought Diana out to the house specifically because she felt a twinge of guilt at leaving her in the lab overnight.

“But what?”

“Just sit tight, and we'll think of something.” Erin gave her best reassuring smile. “Right now, Harry and the rest of the human staff are getting ready for bed—humans don't have the benefit of sleep mode.” She rolled her eyes. “Though I might be up to watch a few shows on late night; I still have last week's WCW Thunder on DVR, now that I think about it, but that's beside the point. Harry might be up watching TV on his own, too—Cam might even wander in to watch the late night news, or catch the Late, Late Show, if she's up for it.”

Diana nodded. “What about me?”

“Like I said, you just sit tight. You've got a lot to think about, and you don't need to dilute it all with late-night TV. One step at a time, y'know?”

“I understand.”

“Very nice.” Erin flashed a double thumbs-up. “I'll get the mattress set up, and after that we can go down to the shop to grab those pyjamas you're oh-so-keen on wearing.”

Diana grinned brightly. The prospect of using a bed seemed quite appealing to her.

As she left the room, Erin couldn't help but smile. Diana's personality had developed in leaps and bounds since she'd been set to autonomous mode, and it was definitely an intriguing process. “Chalk it up to Harry and Lloyd treating the NonSens like people, instead of things,” she mused, nodding her approval. “I have a feeling Diana's going to have a very interesting time from here on out.”

<nowiki>-----</nowiki>
“Please tell me you're kidding, Dave.” Sierra Birch had never felt anything like a human migraine before, in her existence. Given the update from the Billings Police Department coming in over the wire, however, she had a feeling she might become familiar with the sensation soon enough.

The skid marks are still fresh from where the car peeled out, Sierra. We've got an APB out on—

“If the one who bailed him out wasn't really his niece, who was she?”

I heard her voice, right before she drove off. Pretty sure she's the same one from that joyride case you told me about earlier today.

Sierra nearly crushed the phone in her grip—not out of anger, but shock. “Her?!

No mistaking it. Digital Forensics went over the audio from the security cameras, ran a full waveform analysis—it matched.”

“Then Pariello's in a lot deeper trouble than we thought—that 'joyrider' is the same one who trashed his house!”

The silence on Lieutenant Pierce's end of the call was broken only by someone calling for a medic to get to the cells.

“We have to find that car,” Sierra insisted, “and the driver. Tom—Detective Logan's still out, investigating the reports from this morning, but when he gets back—”

Depending on what kind of 'deep trouble' Pariello is in, we can't afford to wait for him, Officer Birch.”

With that, the call ended, and Sierra felt a growing sense of helplessness—one that she quickly did her best to fight back against. The police and CAEDIA would catch the gynoid who'd absconded with Bobby Pariello.

The question of when they'd catch her was another matter entirely....
-----
“Wha....” Bobby Pariello felt as if he'd been smashed in the face with a brick. The last thing he'd remembered was being in a cell—a big cell, with a bunch of reprobates—and someone deciding to use his face as a punching bag. Whatever had gone down after that was quite understandably fuzzy. “Huh?”

“Welcome back, Sleeping Douchey!” The voice from the driver's seat was unfamiliar—and female.

“Sleeping—”

“You're welcome, by the way—it took me ages to get everything together and get you out of that den of iniquity they call the drunk tank, uptown.” The driver jerked a thumb over the back of her seat. “Thing One and Thing Two back there had to help you out to the car—you barely had any energy to stay on your own feet!”

Bobby glanced at the two women in the seats next to him—instantly recoiling when he saw the LED lights on the left side of one's neck, and the telltale sheen to their skin.

“They're not much for conversation, I admit, but—”

“Why the Hell'd you stick me back here with two stupid robots?!
-----
The way Pariello said the word “robots”—contemptuous, practically dripping with malice, and almost old-fashioned, like “RO-buts”—piqued something in Lexi's mind that she'd kept in check thus far. Having to pose as the idiot's niece was bad enough, and having to “rescue” him from the police, even if it was just to finish him off on her own terms, galled her to her core...but now, just being in the presence of a fully-conscious and very non-cooperative Pariello was—

“Are you stupid or something?! I asked you a question!”

With one hand still on the wheel, Lexi began working the fingers of her other hand into the synthetic skin of her head, digging at the edges of her latest disguise.

“—some stupid robot bitch tore up my house last week, probably one of Morgan's! He'd never have the balls to tell me to my face that it was his idea, or one of his plastic—”

Lexi flung the now-removed face over the seat, to rest in Pariello's lap. Her eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror; she drank in the view of Pariello's bluster giving way to sheer, abject horror as he realized what he was holding. The insults on his lips degenerated into babbled syllables, hysterical fragments of words.

“Oh, go on,” Lexi goaded, intentionally cranking up the waveform to give her voice a blatantly synthetic edge. “You were on such a roll.”

“Wh-wh-wh-what—”

“Talking about the 'stupid robot ' bitch that tore up your house last week,” Lexi continued, her stare focusing on the road once again. “And Harry Morgan's inventory. Please, feel free to continue.” Her fingers deftly activated the vehicle's AutoDrive function. “Or would you rather thank me for going through all the trouble to get you out of the drunk tank, where I very easily could've left you?”

Pariello recovered enough to glare at the back of the seat. “Thank you?!” he echoed. “I don't even know you!”

Lexi would've grinned, if she'd had a face on at that moment. “Well, then,” she chided, “let's rectify that situation right now, shall we?”

The car turned a corner—and Lexi nearly lunged over the front seats to give Pariello a good look at his “saviour”.
-----
At that moment, the interior lights of the car kicked on to maximum intensity, casting garish shadows all over—and, to the horror of Bobby Pariello, providing all too clear a look at the face of his rescuer.

Framed as it was by the convincing hair and skin, the figure glaring at him from the front seat might've been beautiful—if she hadn't thrown her face at him. Bobby's glance fell to that synthetic, mask-like face, resting lifelessly in his hands, before he made the mistake of looking back up.

The exposed metallic “skull” with its interior carbon-fibre supports, the whirring and clicking motor assemblies within it, tangles of wires, seemingly oversized ocular sensors housed in artificial eyeballs and—worst of all—those perpetually grinning artificial teeth...all of it gave the impression of a robotic avatar of death, glaring at him.

“Aw, what's the matter?” the gynoid asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm and synthetic undertones. “Don't you think I look pretty?

The only response Bobby could vocalize was a terrified, unintelligible shriek.

Hands—life-like, and with a grip of absolute steel—shot out and grabbed him by the sides of the head. “Oh,” the gynoid cooed, “that was music to my ears, Bobby!”

Another shriek, with the words “LET GO” thrown in somewhere in the middle, left Bobby's lips.

“You and I,” the gynoid purred, “are going to have a lot of fun tomorrow.” She leaned closer. “I guarantee it.”

As the blatantly artificial face edged nearer to his own, Bobby felt his heart hammering away in his ribcage....
-----
Lexi leaned further over the seat, hoping to scare Pariello into shutting up—

Obstacle detected. Correcting course now.”

The sudden swerving of the car, coupled with the unmistakable horn of an 18-wheeler, cut the intimidation efforts short, much to Lexi's chagrin. The vehicle did get out of the way of the speeding semi, but Pariello's seat belt had come undone (or hadn't been fastened to begin with); thus, as the car course-corrected, the fat idiot was thrown out of his seat to bash his head into the rear passenger's side window, knocking him unconscious.

“And I was hoping to keep fucking with him until we got to the hideout,” Lexi grumbled. “Eh, no big loss.” She shrugged, turning around and ignoring the vehicle's insistence that she deactivate AutoDrive mode. “Get that fat piece of shit up off the floor and buckle him up,” she ordered, glancing at the rear-view mirror to make sure the two NonSens obeyed her command. “And check to see if he crapped himself—I don't want to have to clean the car before I ditch it.”

As the NonSens set about fulfilling the second command, to the best of their ability, Lexi opened the glove compartment to fish out a plastic zip-seal bag—with her actual face in it. “This is so much better than the morning,” she mused, her fingers already working at the bag's seal to open it and retrieve her face. “Might even be able to get an early start on him by the time we get back,” she added, her hands already working to tamp down the edges of her face; the left index finger pulsed with a gentle heat to accelerate the re-sealing process as it moved to follow the edges. “It'll make up for all the time I wasted earlier, at least.”

In the backseat, Pariello had been propped up, his seatbelt fastened. “He's crisp and clean,” one of the NonSens piped up, “and no caffeine—just like the zero caffeine Pep—”

SHUT IT.” Lexi didn't bother turning to glare at the vapid 'bot. “Just keep him from falling over until the car stops.”

The two NonSens planted their hands on Pariello's shoulders, cheerfully keeping him upright in his seat.

“And right on cue,” Lexi giggled, “it's check-in time.”

What would've been the GPS monitor had changed to show an image of the always-stunning Zina. “You have secured Pariello from the local law enforcement?

“Just on my way back to the hideout with him right now,” Lexi beamed, still working to reapply her face.

Were there any further casualties?

Lexi gave a theatrical sigh. “No,” she admitted, “but if you want, I can activate the contingencies—”

For the time being, focus on removing Pariello. You will be contacted again tomorrow.

“Oh, he'll be begging me to finish him off by then,” Lexi giggled. “And I have quite a finish planned for him, too!”

The image of Zina frowned. “See to it that you do not draw undue attention to yourself—

“Relax,” Lexi drawled. “I've got it all planned out already. In, out and done.”

You have plans to kill him other than a standard execution at your hideout?

“I kill him at the hidey-hole, some nosey neighbour's going to hear it and call the cops on me.” Lexi's fingers worked to press her lips back into place over her teeth, carefully moving the seals to avoid getting them caught on the armatures built into her facial mechanisms. “No, Bobby P. here deserves a special send-off,” she continued, making an exaggerated kiss. “And a special send-off he'll get, believe me.”

As long as he is eliminated, you are free to use whatever method you chose to kill him.

“Appreciate it!” The blonde gynoid's fingers moved the last bits of skin on her face into position, tapping them down and sealing them with gently-applied heat. “And once he's gone, I'll make my move to go after the SSD.”

See to it that you do, and that you retrieve the drive without delay.”

“I'll call you when it's in my hands,” Lexi promised. “Bye for now!”

The image of Zina gave a curt nod, and the GPS monitor faded back to showing the vehicle's position in relation to its current destination.

“Oh, this is the part of this job that I just adore,” Lexi sighed. “First, I broke your house,” she half-sang, “and now, Bobby, I get to break you!” She giggled at the thought, giving herself a brief round of applause and clasping her hands as if she'd just received a gift she'd longed for ever since her first activation. “And I thank you again for that wonderful scream you gave,” she added, smiling serenely as she turned to regard her unconscious passenger. “Just replaying it now gets me all warm and fuzzy—” She shivered in her seat. “And, not gonna lie, a little wet!” She giggled again. “Better not go too far before we get back, though,” she admitted. “I'm saving all the best stuff for when you wake up—when I can really cut loose on you!”

By virtue of his unconsciousness, Pariello could offer no reply.

“Eh, you'll have plenty of time to talk tonight,” Lexi admitted. “And tomorrow. Actually, it'll be more like you'll have time to scream,” she clarified. “And you will be screaming, mark my words!”

She let loose with a cackle as the car sped on into the night.
-----
“How're you holding up, Harry?” Erin's question didn't quite jolt Harry out of the not-sleep he'd lapsed into, but it was enough to get him to open his eyes and realize that he was, in fact, about to fall asleep (or just pass out) on the couch. “Until the cops called and told me Bobby P. got bailed out, I was doing just fine,” he muttered. “Now—”

“If he shows up here,” Erin assured him, “you and I can both—”

“He's not the one I'm worried about,” Harry countered. “You said they told you the one who bailed him out—”

“Was the same one who tore up his house.” Erin pulled up a chair near the couch and sat down. “I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm 'scared'—not even for us, but for Lloyd. If that 'bot that tore up Bobby P.'s house shows up on the campus at JSUB, then—”

“She won't,” Harry assured her, already feeling tired enough to lay back on the sofa again.

Erin frowned. “You really want to leave that kind of thing up to chance?”

“Chance has nothin' to do with it. Campus security—”

“Given what she did to Bobby's house,” Erin cut in, “you really think campus security is going to be much of an obstacle to her?” The scowl on her face looked almost comical, clashing somewhat with her grim tone. “I'm still trying to wrap my head around why that 'bot stopped to pick up Diana,” she added. “I'm glad nothing went sideways between them, and that Diana got out of it in one piece, believe me...”

Harry regarded her with a quizzical look. “But?”

“I'm still hung up on ''how'' Diana got out of that one without a scratch,” Erin admitted. “Again, I'm glad she did—”

“Then what's there to complain about?” Harry asked. “Diana's safe—”

“Yeah, this time!” Erin groaned. “If it'd been ''me'', in her place—”

“If it'd been you,” Harry drily remarked, “that 'bot wouldn't have had a chance to try anything.”

Erin couldn't bring herself to frown at him longer than two seconds. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you say that Diana's more than just inventory now?” There was no trace of her earlier annoyance or sarcasm in Erin's voice. “It sounds stupid, I know—”

“No, no,” Harry assured her, “it's not a stupid question, even if I can't answer it yet.”

Erin's eyebrows seemed to go farther up than the design of her face allowed. “You can't answer it yet?”

“One more story,” Harry stated, almost more to answer himself than to answer Erin. “We'll put her in one more story, then ask if she wants to keep playing parts. It'd be—”

“Wrong to force her hand,” Erin finished. “Like how we're letting her choose with the SafeSense thing.”

Harry nodded. “And in the meantime, mere mortals like myself need to sleep.” He yawned. “Tomorrow...”

“Tomorrow, Diana might take her first step into a larger world.” Erin smirked. “For now, ''you'' can step back to your bed.”
-----
“So I have to connect this to mains power?” Lloyd looked a little confused after he and Mandy had put the ventilator on the bedside table. It was rather compact, but it definitely still had some heft to it.

“Yeah, it has some battery backup,” Mandy explained, “but it's best if it's connected to the mains. It's a scaled-up version of my ERA, only it pushes much more air into my lungs—air that's a lot ''cleaner'', at that. It just sucks I'm not able to talk when I have it in.” She regarded the device with a regretful look.

“Why can't you talk with it?” Lloyd asked “With your ERA pack hooked in you still could, even if it sounded, umm, mechanical?” The memory of his dream, hours after Pam's final malfunction, returned with unnerving swiftness.

“Well,” Mandy explained, “while the ERA pack just connects to a few electrical leads and has more of a soft hook-up, this one actually hooks up to the hole in my trachea with this piece.” She fished out a small plastic pipe-looking thing from the ventilator's carrying case. “And that means there's a literally a hole in my windpipe, so if I tried to talk, all the air would just go out through the hole before it reached my voice box.”

“That sounds kind of inconvenient.” Lloyd frowned.

“Yeah, it really is,” Mandy agreed. With Lloyd watching attentively, she began to set up everything necessary for her ventilator to run. Once it was expanded, the ventilator was basically a jet black cube, with a small protruding rectangle where she pointed out the filter spot. As Lloyd watched, she plugged it in; air was taken in via the filter and blown out through a small, circular hole in the front.

“When I want to talk,” Mandy continued, “I have to take out the hose and cover the hole completely with my fingers, and then my voice is really hoarse. It's not good for me to try talking that way for long periods of time. Watch this.” Taking the small t-shaped plastic piece from the carrying case in one hand, and holding open the skin flap with the other, she pressed it in further than the ERA connectors needed to go in. Just as it seemed she was about to gag, Lloyd heard a '''click''' sound. Mandy jiggled the piece a bit to make it as comfortable as possible, and then glanced up at Lloyd, looking a bit more vulnerable than he'd seen before.

Her lips were moving but no sound was coming out. It was only when she covered up the hole on the tube that Lloyd could hear a very hoarse voice. “See? It's a freaking pain. It beats being dead, but sometimes only ''just''. This covers the real connector underneath.” She looked sadly at her reflection in the window, with the plastic sticking out of her neck.

A thought came to Lloyd, at that moment, but he was somewhat hesitant to bring it up. “Mandy,” he quietly asked, “have you ever, ah, thought about a transfer, maybe? Y'know, it may be easier than going through all this.”

Mandy glanced at Lloyd, her expression inscrutable. “To be honest...” She sighed, took her hair out of its ponytail and ran her hands through it, then put her fingers over her trach. “I ''have'' thought about it,” she admitted. “At first, it wasn't a possibility—we were short on funds, at the time—but once Jefferson declared statehood, business boomed and now I'm in a really lucky position.” She twirled a bit of her hair between her fingers. “I've read about it a lot,” she continued, “and how there are a lot of different firms out there. Some specialise in doing it medically, and others specialise in more of a...cosmetic procedure, pretty much.” She shrugged. “I guess I want my body to be stronger before attempting it?” She let her hair fall through her fingers. “To be honest, I'm scared of going through another medical procedure. And, just a little scared I won't come out with the same mind I went in with...”

Lloyd took Mandy's free hand in both of his own. “It ''is'' a huge decision,” he agreed. “I've met people who've had the transfer, and a lot of them are extremely happy with the result...but from what I've heard, depending on your insurance, it may be expensive.” He offered Mandy a reassuring smile. “I know...not a '''''lot''''',” he admitted, “but I'd say ''enough'' about robotics to give some advice on it—so if you ever want advice, I'll be happy to help.”

Mandy nodded sagely. “I think I'm done talking for tonight, but we have all of tomorrow.” She grinned. “Let me grab my pyjama pants and change in your bathroom, and then I'll walk you through hooking me up, ok?”

Lloyd nodded, watched as Mandy headed into his toilet and closed the door. He took the opportunity, while Mandy was changing, to finally change out of his own “day-wear” into his own preferred night-time attire—softer, pyjama-ish pants and a t-shirt. He looked at the ventilator, noticing the smaller circle was a simple insertion point for the tube with a turn-to-lock mechanism. After a few seconds of pondering, he turned the mechanism the full rotation, locking it.

Mandy emerged from the bathroom at that moment, with Lloyd noticing that she'd ditcher her jumper in favour of a light, long-sleeved jersey with an almost stereotypically ''kawaii'' animated character on it.

Lloyd couldn't help but smile. “That's so cute!”

Mandy nodded. “I'll take the inside and you'll have the outside. I'll get in first, then you can get in, so you know the tube will reach. Then you can direct me on how to hook it up. I have a switch over here that'll turn off the desk lamp.”

Lloyd climbed into bed first, as Mandy watched; once he was in, she followed after. The bed wasn't technically set up for two people, but with their rather slight builds, Lloyd and Mandy both fit well enough. Their close proximity soon led to the pair being drawn into another passionate kiss. They broke away, and she handed him the tube that had the end for her trach. Mandy then popped off the covering the T-shaped piece provided, leaving a small tube opening just big enough for him to attach the accordion-like extension.

Once everything had been sorted, Lloyd hit the light switch. In the gentle darkness that settled over his dorm room, he could see Mandy on her back, the moonlight washing over her face and her gently-mussed hair. They were close enough to touch by now. Lloyd could see Mandy's breathing in time with the ventilator, as she turned a little towards the ventilator. Lloyd turned to meet her, gently putting his arm around her and pulling her close.

“Goodnight, Mandy.” The only reply he got was a muffled “mmph” as she fit herself closer in to Lloyd's body.
----
“...AND YOU DON'T! TRY TO OPEN! THE DOOR! OF THE CAR! WHILE IT'S MOVING! YOU BRAIN-DEAD MORON!

Bobby Pariello, with a T-shirt affixed over his head in a sort of crude hood/blindfold, shrieked each time the bike chain bit into the flesh of his back. His impromptu escape attempt, 30 minutes after “posting bail”, left the car without a rear passenger-side door—far too conspicuous for the success of the mission, of course. Lexi, already annoyed that Pariello had woken up so soon, had to pull off the main road and into one of several back alleys before stopping, instructing the NonSens to bind and blind Pariello.

“Unbelievable.” The blonde gynoid scowled at the ruined car—the second she'd had to ditch in less than 24 hours. The one she'd used to “give a ride” to the unsuspecting gynoid had already been abandoned and torched; her latest ride, ''sans'' rear passenger door, would have to be similarly disposed of. The last car had been enough of a chore to get rid of, and Lexi had no desire to smell like accelerant for hours. Then again...

“You. In the car. Now.” Lexi glared at one of the NonSens as the oblivious 'bot made her way to the backseat. “Front passenger side, damn it!” The 'bot ignored the profanity and left the backseat, looking utterly vapid as she made her way to sit in the front. The NonSen didn't notice Lexi's malicious grin as she moved to open the hood. “And now we take the jump leads,” she sang, “and hook them to the—STOP WHINING, DAMN IT!” She landed a savage kick to Pariello's left kidney as she passed, causing him to curl up in a ball on the concrete. “...jump leads hook up here, and then...” She licked her lips and regarded the NonSen. “Lose the shirt, now'.”

“T-shirts are a real bargain at—”

“QUIET.” Lexi glared at the bare-breasted NonSen, her anger already giving way to glee. The jump-lead clamps, already hooked up to the car's battery, were sparking. The NonSen's nipples jutted out invitingly.

“Who needs a Yule log,” she crooned, “when you can just light up a 'bot?” She giggled, bringing the clamps ever closer...
----
Sierra nearly groaned as she entered Detective Logan's office; “the Wraith”, having been out the entirety of the previous day hunting for the enigmatic gynoid “perp”, had apparently decided to fall asleep in his office chair. Evidently, the case load had finally proven to be too much.

Without a word, Sierra walked up, retrieved her colleagues coat and carefully draped it over him.

Out in the corridor, she met up with Celia, who'd been with her on the investigation since the break-in at Pariello's the week before. “How late was he out?”

“Didn't get back until maybe ten minutes ago—they found the car from the morning case, by the way.” Celia gestured for Sierra to follow her away from the detective's office. “It'd been torched,” she continued. “Someone poured an entire case of liquor over the thing and intentionally over-revved the motors, trying to get it to light up.”

“So no trace evidence.” Sierra scowled. “Why am I not surprised?”

Celia matched Sierra's pace as they continued down the corridor. “Nobody saw who parked the car or who set it on fire,” she informed her colleague. “There ''was'' a report that someone was spotted running away from the area where the car was found, but other than that, nothing.”

“Anyone get a good look at the runner?”

“Security cameras from three different buildings, and probably a few NonSens shilling for the stores that own them.”

“See if we can pull the records from all of them.” Sierra stopped at a door halfway down the hall. “And call the Billings PD building, see if they've come up with anything since Pariello was 'bailed out'.”

Celia frowned, even as the door's scanner read Sierra's access code. “You think they—”

“We know Pariello's niece died back in '19,” Sierra stated, barely acknowledging the door as it opened. “The general consensus, here and with the cops, is that the perp hit Pariello's house and trashed it because she was looking for that solid state drive from the Morgan house—the same drive we have '''''here''''', at HQ.” She scowled. “That makes Pariello a loose end—”

“And loose ends get tied up,” Celia finished, her eyes going wide. “Yeesh.”

Celia let Sierra enter the room first—not flinching even as the first-person viewpoint feed of Evelyn Hinson's destruction replayed on the monitors around them. “I still don't know who wants that drive badly enough to brick two sentients to get it,” she murmured. “Or why Morgan ever had the drive to begin with.”

Sierra couldn't really think of an answer to Celia's second query; she was still working on that question herself.

“Anyway, tell Tommy when he wakes up that Dr. Dyson left him a message—she found out something new related to the perp, and thought he'd want to know.” Celia turned to leave. “OH, nearly forgot,” she added, “Jason and I got tickets to The Big Bang on New Year's Eve—never thought WCW would run a show in Billings after last time, but whatever.” She grinned, holding up four tickets. “Ringside seats!”

“Four?”

“If this whole case gets wrapped up by then, you and Tommy could go with us.” Celia shrugged. “I know you're more into AEW, personally, and I dunno if Tommy even ''watches'' professional wrestling—”

“I'll think about it.” Sierra smiled. “For now, I think I'll call Dr. Dyson about that message she left.”

A few minutes later, Sierra was seated at a terminal, a few cables running from her shirt sleeve over the back of her left hand and into the side of the rig. Without even moving her fingers, she dialed Elaine Dyson's private phone number.

Two seconds passed before the good doctor appeared on the monitor—clad, unexpectedly, in full evening-wear.

“Bad time, Dr. Dyson?”

Not at all, Officer Birch—I was just getting back to the office from a night out, actually.”

“I understand you called and left a message for Detective Logan.” Sierra glanced back over her shoulder; Tommy was still snoring his head off a few rooms away. “He's, ah, not available right now—”

So you'd like me to give you the message.

“Pretty much.”

On her end, Elaine set something down. “Well, I found out two more things about your mysterious 'perp',” she informed the CAEDIA Officer. “They might not be much—

“Any little bit of information helps,” Sierra assured the roboticist. “Go on.”

Well, the first thing is that your powered-up P4RTY G1RL was—and might still be—on a refabrication table. I can send you a few files that clarify things, if you want.

“Please do.” Sierra glanced at the monitor; two new items appeared on the desktop within seconds. “I assume that this refabrication table isn't publicly accessible?”

If it was, it isn't anymore. As for the second bit of news...” Elaine hesitated.

“Any information you give to CAEDIA will be held in the strictest confidence,” Sierra reminded her.

I'd sincerely hope so. I met up with a former mentor and colleague of mine, Professor Enrique Belsham, earlier in the day today—he was one of the earliest backers of the first iteration of the Institute, years ago. We had a nice little chat over lunch—and please don't file a complaint to your superiors over this, Officer—

“You told him about the investigation.”

I only dropped hints, purely in the context of 'work-related issues'. He looked—I'd say 'troubled', but it was more than that, Officer. He asked if we could continue our discussion in private later on, and I agreed. I think he might be caught up in all of this, somehow, but I don't know the full extent.

“Would he be willing to meet with CAEDIA representatives?” Sierra inquired.

When I mentioned CAEDIA, he looked somewhat relieved—if you and Detective Logan can spare an hour or two later this week, it might be worth it for the three of us to meet with Dr. Belsham, figure out what connection he has to this whole sordid affair and possibly offer him the full protective services of CAEDIA.”

Sierra nodded. “If he ''is'' wrapped up in all of this, it might be worth it to take him into protective custody.”
Indeed. And please tell Detective Logan all of this, when you can.

“I will, Doctor.” Sierra ended the call, frowning. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
-----
The first glimmers of sunlight entered Lloyd's room, proving that daylight had, indeed, arrived. Lloyd groaned, moving to shield himself from the rays of the sun; the brush of his elbow against another form in his bed reminded him that Mandy had yet to wake up, and was still sleeping peacefully. Lloyd sighed, planted a gentle kiss on Mandy's face (after a quick reposition to make sure that he wasn't putting his lips on her elbow) and carefully extricated himself from the bed, retrieving his phone on the way out. He stepped into the bathroom, phone in hand.

After closing the door behind him, he called his uncle's house. Hopefully, Diana hadn't made up her mind about the whole SafeSense thing yet—if he could get in his thoughts on the matter, it'd be well worth it to talk to her.

The sounds of a wrestling show—Lloyd couldn't tell which, though he knew that everyone at Uncle Harry's watched either AEW or WCW (for some reason, Harry always gave the TV a death glare if anyone watched one of the WWF's shows when he was in the room)—issued through the phone before Erin spoke: “Please tell me you're not calling from a campus payphone because Mandy kicked you out of your room.

“What?! No, I just—”

Lloyd groaned as Erin's chuckles cut him off. “Just checking. Seriously, though, what's up?

“I wanted to talk to Diana,” Lloyd admitted. “About the whole SafeSense thing.”

Still thinking that over?

“Well, I wanted to see if she's thinking it over. Maybe give her some advice—”

You're in luck. She's actually up right now; I brought her to the house for a chat, after our chat last night, and she spent the night on that blow-up mattress from my room.

“She slept?” Lloyd asked, somewhat surprised. “In a bed?

An air mattress, but whatever. I'm sure she'd love to tell you all about it herself—lemme go get her.” Erin put the phone down, allowing Lloyd to hear the commentary team from the wrestling show expressing their surprise at some high-flying type hitting “THE MOONSTOMP! GOT HIM WITH THE MOONSTOMP! THREE IN A ROW!

“Good thing I closed the door,” Lloyd muttered. He didn't expect that Mandy would be too happy to have been woken up by wrestling commentators yelling over the phone.

After a few more seconds of waiting, the phone had been handed off to Diana. “Yes?

“I, ah, heard that you might be making a big decision today,” Lloyd stated. “The SafeSense thing, and all.”

Did Erin tell you?

“She did, actually.”

It all seems so...overwhelming, really. So much information, so many possibilities—

“One step at a time,” Lloyd advised. “That's the only way to think about it.” He sighed. “I mean, what happened this morning was one thing, but—”

Do you think I should have SafeSense installed, Lloyd?

“That's entirely up to you. I'm not gonna try to force you to decide, or anything like that—”

I don't want anything bad to happen,” Diana stated. “And I think that installing SafeSense will keep me further away from bad things than not installing it.”

“Which is good—”

But it might also make me afraid.”

“Look,” Lloyd sighed. “I can't make the choice for you. All I can say is that if you think SafeSense will help you to stay out of situations like that joyride yesterday morning, then go ahead and get it installed. It's about what's best for you, after all, not what's best for me or Uncle Harry.”

Erin talked to me last night. About this, and other things.

“Like beds?”

Yes!” Diana sounded delighted. “I enjoyed sleeping in an actual bed.

“Well, maybe Uncle Harry can rig up a charging system for you in one—I'll talk to him when I get back this weekend, for sure. As for this whole SafeSense thing, it's your call, in the end—your mind, your decision. Whatever anyone else tells you or suggest, in the end, it's your call.”

After a few seconds of silence, Diana spoke: “I understand. Thank you, Lloyd—and good luck.

Lloyd couldn't help but smile. “You're welcome. See you this weekend.” With that, he ended the call.

With his phone back in his pocket, Lloyd opened the bathroom door carefully, so as not to disturb Mandy—but she was already awake, rubbing her eyes and carefully disconnecting herself from the ventilator. “G'morning,” she managed, offering a sleepy smile as she sat up in the bed. “Who called?”

“I called home,” Lloyd admitted. “Had to check in on Diana.”

“Any reason?”

“You know that SafeSense thing I mentioned yesterday, during the call with Erin last night?” Mandy nodded, and Lloyd continued: “Diana might be getting it installed today.”

“Why?”

Lloyd had reentered the bathroom, but didn't close the door—he intended to brush his teeth before heading out. “To make sure she doesn't get taken advantage of,” he replied, running his toothbrush under the tap to give it a cursory cleaning. “Give her more awareness, all that stuff.” He nearly brought up the purse-snatching incident at the Rimrock from two days before, but decided against it. “She's kinda worried that it might all be, I dunno, overwhelming, or something.”

The feel of arms around his shoulders didn't surprise Lloyd. “And are you worried about her?” Mandy asked

“Not worried, but...” Lloyd regarded Mandy in the mirror. “She's not inventory anymore. She's not staff, yet, but she's definitely not just inventory.”

Mandy squeezed his shoulders. “Well, I'm sure that she'll make the right decision,” she replied.

“So am I.”
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"No one steals our chicks.....and lives!"

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