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Everything You Always Wanted

Mon, 20 May 2019 00:00:00 +0000

You finally have everything you always wanted. You’re not human anymore.

You rub your new body up and down. It’s perfect, slender, and shiny, and it’s all yours. You’ve got a small access panel in your lower back. It contains your SRPI port, some status lights, and your power and reset buttons, all locked up with a key hidden in a place only your girlfriend Liz knows about. Even you can’t get in. You’re designed this way so a stranger can’t change your settings after they have been set and the panel has been locked back in place.

The Perils Of Lynn 213

Sun, 07 Feb 2016 00:00:00 +0000

It was her fate to be recycled. She only understood that, being part of the estate of her deceased mistress, it had been decided to have her sold off for reconditioning. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she did realize that after thirteen years of activation, and a nearly unwavering routine of service, everything was going to change. The Recycler’s name was Humbolt, who arrived at the house with his assistant Percival. Both were dressed in black suits, matching their blank painted service vehicle. This wasn’t typical of the profession, but an odd caprice of Humbolt, who liked to refer to these trips as ‘bringing out the dead’. Percival didn’t think much of the joke, but knew the value of an apprenticeship in this sort of tech industry, and so he quietly played along. The house was to be sold as well, and with so much of the furniture already moved out, the interior felt very dark and empty. It struck Percival as a rather sad and lonely image then when they found her. Seated on a plain wooden chair in the middle of the bare living room, her head was bowed, a single black power cord running from some part of her back to an outlet in the wall. “You see this,” Humbolt said gruffly, holding out the crumpled yellow work-order sheet in front of her. “Yes,” she replied, raising her head. She was dressed in the manner of an old English maid, with a long black dress and white apron. She had the fair complexion of a European, but had been given long slick black hair that appeared very Asian. “You’ve been given over for reconditioning,” Humbolt informed her, “You will come along with us.” Percival came around behind her, unhooking the power cord from it’s socket at the base of her neck. Moving aside some of her thick hair, he read off the stamped serial number. “Hmm, a 213,” he remarked. “I was expecting something more ancient from what we’d been told.” “Yes, well, still hardly state of the art,” Humbolt shrugged, studying her. “At least it’ll be an easier job though. I quite like the face.” “She is pretty,” Percival agreed, helping the machine to her feet. At first glance, she did seem very human. But, in accordance with the Artificial Persons Act, did possess one distinctly non-human feature. Circular metal panels, lined with a single groove in the middle, were mounted on either side of her head, just above and behind the ears. “My name is Lynn,” she introduced herself to them both, her voice inflected with a slight English accent, though her overall pattern of speech was characteristically deliberate. “Only for now it is,” Humbolt told her. “Come on, follow us into the van.”

The Perils Of Lynn 213

Sun, 07 Feb 2016 00:00:00 +0000

My Personal Trainer

Sat, 19 Sep 2015 00:00:00 +0000

At first these inverted trash can looking robots had been used in hotels as mere novelties, then as domestic servants in private houses with their greater capabilities, and later in the military. I had patiently waited to see what the newest models had to offer, and I was glad I had as the technology of these newest ones was unbelievable. They boasted artificial intelligence, (as did many other things these days), and adaptive reasoning the salesman had boasted.

The Babe Bomb 2

Sat, 15 Nov 2014 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Babe Bomb)

Part Two

“Doctor, we have a problem.”

James Watson gazed around the now familiar office. The last time he’d been here, one of his inventions had been misused. Now, turning his attention to the man behind the desk, he frowned.

“What have you done now?”

Major George Franklin returned the frown. As head of a top secret special projects division, he’d borne the blame for the earlier fiasco. It had taken months for the waves from that one to die down, and Franklin had been lucky to keep his rank. Now, leaning back in his chair, he gazed at Watson thoughtfully, as if choosing his words very carefully.

Robotic Discipline Machine

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

“So, what did you get on the test?” Karen asked as she caught up with Teri as she headed out of school.

“An 89.” Teri said, the tone of her voice indicating disappointment.

“Good for you!” Karen praised, although there was a bitter edge to her voice. “I got a 67!”

“Ouch!” Teri said sympathetically.

“Ah, not a problem anymore!” Karen said smugly. “Once I turned 18, my parents were locked out of my school account! Now it’s nobody’s business but my own! What’s even better is that they can’t beat us anymore! Once you turn 18 your parents can’t legally touch you! We’re adults now, responsible for our own selves.”