Exo Saves the Day, Chapter 2

[gynoneko]

If you missed the first chapter... click here.
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Exo Saves the Day
Chapter Two: Fist of justice
By Gynoneko


“That ain’t rait” the big guy, apparently Big Joe, said. By now, the girl was sitting upright again; face and body covered it what appeared to be blood.

“Fuck this shit” the second boy said in response. “This bitch ain’t got no pulse, she’s a freaking android! We shoul jus put her out of her fuckin misery, yo!” At this, the boy pulled out one of those switch-blade knives, ready to flip it open. It seems these thugs hadn’t graduated to big boy gang school yet, and guns were not on the menu. Thank God.

Rez interjected. “Hang on Jack! No need to be cutting anyone. If this little bitch is a robot, she’d do whatever we tell her, whatever we want! And there isn’t anything she can do about it”. Rez picked up a small wooden plank, some debris from the ground. “Hold still, bitch” he exclaimed and knocked the plank against her head as hard as he could, laughing as he did so. Shit! I wasn’t fast enough to get to her. I knew I should have put that exoskeleton on before I left my car. She fell to the ground instantly with that blow, but, to my relief, she was still breathing. Not all gynoids need to breathe, but the best ones do. It helps with cooling off their processes, and the modern voice boxes use air to make sound, for a natural sounding voice. It was also dead sexy to hear a good gynoid breathing seductively. However, more importantly, it meant she was still operational, and I needed to act fast. Even if she wasn’t a living human, she was still in need of my help. I always played the hero in my head, saving the damsel in distress. And although this damsel wasn’t human, she needed help, and I was the only one around that could offer her any.

I continued to walk quietly over to them, trying to stay in Big Joe’s Shadow. Big Joe apparently still had his pants down to his knees, but was unsure what to do next. Rez reached down, and picked up the girl by the hair. Being this much closer helped me see her better now. She had taken a serious beating, and that last blow landed on her jaw, possibly breaking it. She had bruises, cuts, and dirt all over where these punks had hit and kicked her. Her skin was covered in what looked like blood, but was a little too orange. This fake blood was more like a coolant, and also helped with a variety of other functions, but only the best gynoids would even have such a feature. She was a work of art, but these boys treated her like a load of crap. Inside the cuts on her skin, I could clearly see something that wasn’t muscle. In the place of the meaty tissue was some grey sinew-like material, clearly artificial, but not completely unlike muscle. In places, bits of plastic started showing. Her neck had taken a serious cut from that last blow, and a few severed optical wires were visible from within. She had been beaten to a point where bruises had started to form in places on her face and abdomen and legs. Since when did gynoids have bruises? Clearly, this artificial blood was more complex than I thought, and had already started basic repair of the damage. In humans, bruising was what happened when blood pooled together under the skin. In gynoids, well… there were not many gynoids with blood, and even fewer with bruises, but according to the articles I read, bruises allowed the nano-machines in her ‘blood’ to work together in a massive effort to repair damage. Her eyes started wandering around in a dazed expression, as Rez propped her up. I was close enough now I could act, and I had to act before they went any further.

“Hey Joe” started the 4th boy, whom I almost forget was there. “If she a robot,” he giggled, “why don’t we give her a order? Make her do somethin’. Some’n nasty.” His laughter died down to giggles while he talked. I could get a better look at the one now. His eyes were bloodshot, bulging, with that bug-eyed look. He was on drugs, I was sure of it. That’s probably why he had the giggles.

“Like what?” Big Joe seemed a little dumbstruck, or perhaps he was just a little dumb. I was still hiding behind Joe’s enormous shadow as he said this; I was very aware that I might be seen, even crouched down like I was.

They were silent for a second, my heart skipped a beat. Did they see me? Suddenly, the second boy, Jack, interjected. “Let’s fuck her” he exclaimed with glee, as though he was the only one to think of this. “You gots yur pants off, let her play with ya a bit.”

“Yeah” said Rez with a gleam in his eye. I could see his face more clearly now. He was a young lad, maybe 16 or 17, toned, with dark-tanned skin. He wore a button shirt opened and loose over a wife beater, and had black jeans on with chains. His face was handsome, but twisted and sharp. The look in his eyes was sadistic, the scary look you see when someone is contemplating murder. He got his kicks from being in control of others, and making them do what he wanted. “Big Joe, pull out your dick. Go on girly, suck on his dick.”

“Suck On This!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, while I took 2 big steps toward Rez, stepping into the light. A look of horror and confusion struck his face, just before my fist did. A strong upper cut to the jaw was all it took, and Rez was lifted into the air, and hit the ground hard. With one punch, he was out cold; a tooth spinning on the ground a yard away. I turned around to face the other 3. Big Joe was still confused and still had is pants down. Luckily for me, he decided to pull them back up, giving me time to face Jack. With a flick of his wrist, Jack’s switch-blade unfolded, ready to strike. Taking a defensive stance, with my hands up and my legs spread in a carefully placed balance, I prepared for his attack. He lunged at me, with almost no skill, but with the deadly blade in his hand.

My Tae-Kwon-Do training was coming in useful. Even though it had been years since I last took classes, I had taken it long enough to know how to defend against a knife. With a side-step, an incredibly swift movement of my hand, and a slight push, I had disarmed Jack, and pushed him into the wall. Sometimes this type of training can be engraved in your mind when you think you forgot all about it. Some call it muscle memory; I call it a life-saver. He turned around to face me again, reaching in his pocket. This guy was fast, but I was faster. Before he had the chance to pull out whatever was in his pocket, I swept his feet out from under him. Just as he hit the ground, my fist pounded into his chest. The look of shock on his face faded as he lost consciousness.

I stood up again in time to face Big Joe, who had just managed to get his pants back up, or at least fastened and higher up than they were. This face was small, which gave him an odd look considering how big his bald head was. It made him look like a Buddha, with a small face but with no enlightenment or education. He stood there a second, and then started to run toward me, swinging his arms wildly. I dodged the first swing, moving to his side. For such a big guy, I didn’t expect him to turn as fast as he did. I caught his second blow with my right fist, hearing a crack of bone from his hand. Grabbing his third blow with my hand, I was able to twist it enough that he pulled back his arm, leaving himself wide open. I pummeled at his stomach. This guy was big, and each blow seemed to get lost in his folds, but as I punched harder and faster, the look of pain on Big Joe’s face grew.

I stopped punching him and stepped to the side. Big Joe lurched forward, and threw up the last 3 or 4 meals he just ate, before keeling over completely. The thud from his impact was only lessened by the squish of his vomit as he fell in it. Face down in his own vomit, gross. And the smell was worse. I figured I’d do him a favor, and pushed him over with my foot, so we wouldn’t drown in the stuff. I noticed that a faint smell of smoke filled my nostrils. My suite was over heating from my fast punches at Big Joe. I messed up something again. Shit! I turned off the exoskeleton with the flick of a small switch on the side of the neck, disguising the gesture as a muscle stretching-neck cracking gesture instead.

That left laughing bug-eyed boy. I never caught his name, but I didn’t care. He just stood there, stunned, his laughs turned from giggles, into whimpers. He was scared. Perhaps it was my long gray trench coat, or the wide-brimmed hat to cover my face. Maybe it was the fact that I just knocked out all his friends in less than a minute. Either way, he was not having a good trip anymore, and started running in the opposite direction. I ran as fast as I could to catch up, which wasn’t too hard. The boy tripped on his foot not 15 feet away, and I grabbed him by the collar. Shoving him against the wall of the hardware store, I made sure he saw only the shadow on my face as I spoke in my toughest sounding voice.

“Out to have some fun, huh?” I pushed him against the wall harder. “Thought you could just rape this girl?”

“H- Hey- Hey man! We wuz just fooling around.” He didn’t sound very convincing to me.

“I don’t have time for you punks” I retorted, putting emphasis on the word punk.

“D- Don’t- Don’t hurt me man” he pleaded. “I wasn’t gonna do nothing.”

“No, you were just going to watch and let them have their way with her. Perhaps they can watch as your new cell mate has his way with you.” That last part seemed a little forced to me, but I think he got the picture.

“I- I- I- I ain’t gonna te- tell no one. H- Honest” he said, his stutter more severe than before.

“Sure you aren’t” I said. “So why is there a cell phone in your hand?” He looked down, not realizing that he was in fact holding a cell phone. Apparently, he took it out earlier to take pictures of the girl, one image still captured on the screen, and forgot he had it. I swatted the phone away, hearing it shatter on the ground, and punched the kid in the stomach. My punch was not nearly as strong as it was anymore, but I still managed to get him to keel over in pain. I hit his head once to knock him out while he was holding his stomach. He hit the ground with a thud, and was out cold, like all his friends. I quickly pulled out my own phone, and sent a short text. It was to my computer at home, which I had programmed to receive messages and forward them for me, under an anonymous number. The message I sent was the location of the attack, and a request for help. This short message was forwarded to the police, so they could come and clean up the mess. Last thing I wanted was the police to know my phone number.

Turning back toward the girl, I pocketed my phone, took off my hat, and laid it down beside her. She was still stunned, but had started to realize what was happening around her. “Shh. Calm down” I send in a gentle voice. “Are you ok? Can you get up?”

She looked straight at me, with a look of horror and fear in her eyes. She was still scared and wasn’t sure what was going on. She had to think about everything that just happened to her, and it could take a while, especially with all the damage she took. I held out my hand to her to let her grab it. Recoiling instantly, she stared at my hand as though it was ready to hit her. I slowly pulled back my hand. She was already scared enough, I didn’t want to frighten her more. “My name is Daniel, but my friends call me Exo. I want to help you.”

She stared at me a little while longer, before looking around at the other boys lying on the ground around her. She was slowly but assuredly coming out of the shock, and started to realize what was happening. She was remembering the attack, and putting the pieces together in her mind. I held out my hand again, putting a genuine smile on my face. I was glad she was not too hurt to start to understand her situation. Her eyes stared back at me, the horror replaced with concern and confusion, but fear was still there too. There was little time to spare if I wanted to get her out of there before they woke up, or the police arrived, but as I kneeled there beside her with my hand stretched out to her, I stared into her eyes. Vibrant blue eyes stared back at me, absolutely beautiful, but also a little too intense to be natural. Of course they weren’t natural, she was a robot. I take it she was not a doll, or the operator would not still be operating it after, or even during, such a brutal attack. I had never seen a gynoid that looked as real as she did though. Her body was free from all seams and joints, and her expressions were perfect. Usually a gynoid has seams around her body that give access to technicians for maintenance and repair. I could see none of these on her, but I wasn’t exactly looking for them either.

I watched as her tensed eyes relaxed, her eyebrows lowering as her expression changed to one of hope. Slowly, she put her hand in mine. It was soft, and warm. I didn’t expect that at all. She felt like a human, with soft flesh instead of artificial silicon and plastic. I could even feel a faint beat, as the coolant blood ran through her skin. This was amazing! I had worked on customization and repair jobs for several dozen gynoids, but never have I seen one as advanced at this. I tried to pull her to her feet, but she faltered. She looked light-headed and I caught her as she sat back down on the ground. Her body was very warm, and her blood was still oozing out of her wounds; she could overheat. I couldn’t help but feel her soft skin under my hands as I helped her sit up. Taking off my coat, I wrapped it around her, to give her something to cover her up.

“What’s your name? Where did you come from?” I picked up my hat as I asked her, putting it back on my head.
She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of a voice, all that came out was a distorted digital noise. She was shocked at her own voice. Her scream before was normal, so this must have happened when they hit her with the plank of wood. Placing her hand on her neck, she tried again, mouthing a word I didn’t understand, but with only digital noise coming out. She started to panic again. Her eyes went wide, and she started to breathe quickly.

“Shh shh... It’s ok” I said, trying to calm her down. “You don’t have to say anything. They hurt you pretty bad. You’re lucky I found you, I think I can fix you.”

Unfortunately, my efforts to calm her failed. Her eyes filled with tears, and she started to hyperventilate. Maybe it means something different when a gynoid hyperventilates, but in a human, it usually means she is not calming down. Her digitally distorted voice started to fill the air as she tried again and again to talk. She had no voice, no words, no way of telling me anything, and she started to cry in that digital mess. Her voice rang out in digitized sobs as tears ran down her cheeks.

I held her close to me trying to calm her down. “Shh... shh... It’ll be ok. I’ll take care of you. Do you know where you master lives?” She looked confused and shook her head. “You do have a master, right?” All robots have a master. Sometimes that master is a private person, sometimes it is an organization. The title of master can change as well as the robot is moved around. Sometimes they can even have more than one master. However, no robot is without a master. They would have no purpose, no aim, and no goal. Robots are tools, and a hammer cannot build a house by itself. However, this gynoid shook her head again. Apparently she had no master, however that was impossible. Perhaps she lost her master, or he died, or she was not given one yet. I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to push the issue.

“Do you know anyone? Have anywhere to go?” Both questions got a no. I didn’t want to interrogate her, so I decided it was time to leave. “Is it ok with you if I take you to my place? It’s small but you can rest, and I can help you out.” She thought for a moment on this one, and slowly she nodded.

“Great” I smiled. “I mean… good. I’ll take care of you, trust me.” She was still too weak to stand, so I picked her up and carried her. By the time I got to my bag in the alley, I realized she was a lot lighter than I would have expected. A normal human girl would have weighed about the same as she did, maybe even a little more. Most gynoids and robots are very heavy. A lot of things are packed into that small frame, and they can often weigh 200 lbs. or more.

Grabbing my bag while I carried her, I made my way to my car. It wasn’t too far, luckily, but it was in a well-lit area, and I wanted to avoid being seen carrying a half-naked beaten girl. I stuck to the back alley ways while I carried her closer, and came out from behind the buildings only when I got closer to my car. I was lucky, the lot was empty, and no one was around. My car is old. Not that it is incredibly old, not even old enough to count as an antique. People often just stare at my car, with that look on their face that says “Why is this thing on the road? Is it legal”? Strictly speaking, it was legal to drive my car, but that doesn’t mean it was a good idea. I had to modify her to allow me to use alternate fuel, especially since the gas companies nearly collapsed several years ago. Normally, my car is non-hybrid, non-electric, non-diesel, non-fuel cell, non-hydrogen, non-anything special gas guzzler. It was built more than 20 years ago, and was in a constant state of disrepair. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was a piece of junk, she still worked. Enough modifications were made to her that allowed me to use more modern bio-fuels, but they were still harder to find than I would have liked. The faded green paint job was the kind of color that made the public question the taste of its owner. What can I say? I got what I paid for. She was reliable enough, and got me around town, but her days were numbered.

The keys were still in the pocket of my trench coat, and my hands were a little full, and tired. No matter how light she felt at first, without the exoskeleton working, carrying a girl several blocks will tire anyone out. My arms were starting to feel like play dough, and the last thing I wanted to do was to drop her.

“Could you get the keys out of my coat please?” My voice was a little strained as I asked her as sweetly as I could. “They’re in the right side pocket. Yeah that’s it”. She reached into the pocket, and pulled out the keys. At first, she just stared at the keys, as though she was trying to figure out how they worked, but she did manage to unlock the car with the key fob.

Carefully, I opened the door with my foot, and placed the girl inside my compact car. She was hard to carry that far, and putting her down was a relief. I moved her feet over to the front, so she was in the car all the way, and carefully shut the door. Putting my bag in the back seat, I hopped in my car- my exoskeleton still attached- and started her up. The seatbelt alarm reminded me that my passenger did not have her seatbelt on. She didn’t seem to notice, or understand, so I reached across her to put it on for her. Even though she had my coat wrapped around her, I could still see a lot of her, especially this close to her. The little light in my car wasn’t great, but it was better than the acid-yellow glow that pierced the scene in the alley, and it gave me a better view of her. I could see she had beautiful straight hair, light brown with a hint of red. Dirt and dried red-orange blood was smeared on her face, getting caught in her hair. The coat was not wrapped too tightly around her, giving me a clear view of her cleavage. Without a bra, her cleavage was lacking, but it was still impressive. Her breasts weren’t large, but they weren’t small either. From what I could see, she had maybe a B or C cup, and her breasts were well shaped. Her legs were long and shapely, and had a classic sensual look to them. Her skin was pale and nearly flawless. I noticed that she had small imperfections here and there, a mole, some freckles; this was a feature that made her appear more natural. I had to force myself to stop staring at her as I buckled her in.

Just as I was clicking her belt into place, I noticed her staring back at me. Her eyes met mine, and we ended up locked in each other’s gazes. I stared into her big and vibrant blue eyes, perhaps more vibrant than any natural eye color dared to be. This gave her a certain appeal, an allure that trapped me in her eyes. Gazing at her made me realize she had more emotion on her face, in her eyes, than any gynoid was allowed to have. On a physical level, I noticed that her eyes were higher quality than most gynoid eyes I have seen. There was only the smallest sign that her eyes were artificial. Dark blue text, the size of a pin-head, contrasted against the outer rim of her iris. There was no way to tell what it said without a magnifying glass, but it was most likely something relating to the lens and power of the optical sensors. Pain filled her eyes; pain and uncertainty. She was, in a way, staring into my soul, trying to gauge what kind of person I was, trying to get a feel for my intentions. The tension grew in that tiny space as she stared me down. Fascination and concern struck me as I gazed back at her, and it must have shown. Her eyes relaxed, calming the features of her face, and she let out a deep breath; a digital sigh escaping her lips. A strained smile appeared on her face, as though she was glad to have made a friend, but nervous about what is going to happen next. If I hadn’t noticed the red-orange blood, or the optical wires and artificial muscles, I never would have known she was a gynoid. She broke the gaze first, looking down at her hands as she sat back into the chair.

The engine grunted to life as I turned the ignition on. The green car when into gear easily, and we drove off, toward my apartment on the outskirts of the city. The drive was not long, maybe 15 minutes, but before we were half way there, she fell dead asleep. Her heavy slow breathing was relaxing to me, and her presence was something unusual for me. I was used to living as a bachelor, with no women around. I had friends, but I rarely drove them anywhere, and they never fell asleep in my car. It wasn’t that I was bad with women, I was just unlucky. I struck out a few too many times, and decided it was best for both me and the world to stay off women for a while. Sure, I had made love a few times, but it was never fully satisfying for either of us. I didn’t really know how to please a woman in the bed room, and that may have been part of my problem. It had been a few years since I last had a female in my apartment, aside from the occasional broken gynoid that is. I suppose this would really be no different than another broken gynoid, expect this gynoid was my guest, not a client. I felt happy she was with me, and nervous too. I didn’t know what to do about her, or with her, and I had no idea if I could even fix her.

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/Chapter Two

Chapter 3

[gynoneko]

I have 7 chapters written out, but I am currently going over chapter 3 again, tweaking things, and trying to set some stuff up for future events.
Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. What do you think so far?

[MannequinMachinist]

Awesome!

[gynoneko]

Awesome!

Thanks! Let me know if there is anything you'd like to see, or anything I may have messed up.
Thanks again!

[MannequinMachinist]

I think the story's headed in the right direction, and is well written! You shouldn't change a thing.

I like how you handled the voice malfunction scene: I felt pretty bad for the droid, but excited at the same time. I think if you handle later scenes of that nature [if you choose to include them] in that way, and keep the balance between the protagonist's description of the surrounds [which is the main source of excitement] and his own internal monologue [which is the main source of character development and plot/setting exposition] balanced, this story will be a great read.

[gynoneko]

Thanks for the awesome feedback! Glad you like it.
I will keep working on this. I do plan to keep some errors, and eventually some crashes and the like. I might even add some more exposed panels and missing limbs... But I have a lot to get together so it might take a while to get to it all.
For the time being, she will be stuck without a normal voice, although that will eventually be fixed.