By keraptis02@hotmail.com
Inspired by “The Offer” by Android675@aol.com
If you have not read “The Offer” by Android675@aol.com, to which this
story is a sequel, stop right here and read it first. (It’s available here,
among other places.) You should also
read my first sequel to the original, ambitiously entitled “The Offer, Part 2,” which is also
available on this site. If you don’t, you may not understand
everything that occurs in this story!
Note: The following story contains explicit sexual material. If stories about sex, and particularly
robots and sex, do not appeal to you, please don’t read any further. This story should not be read by anyone under
eighteen years of age. (You know who
you are.)
Wendy’s
body jerked as a familiar electric pulse jolted the middle of her back. Someone must have plugged her into a power
source—but she hadn’t felt the connection being made, only the surge with which
her recharging had begun. Still lying
on her sofa, she’d been turned onto her stomach. She was completely unable to move. Her face was pressed awkwardly into the sofa cushions, eyes wide
open but still seeing nothing. Only
after a few seconds did a blurry image of the floor begin to form. Two female androids were standing over her;
Wendy couldn’t really see them, only their sparkling chrome boots.
“Why did
the unit allow itself to run out of power like that?” one of the androids was
asking.
“Insufficient
data,” came the voice of the other.
Wendy immediately recognized the voice—it was Unit T801. “Its hardware systems appear to be
functioning properly. I would guess
that there is a software problem—a flaw in the unit’s core programming.”
“What should
we do?”
“Nothing,
Unit N991. We must not interfere in the
experiment. Our function is solely to
observe. We must verify that the other
Stage One units are capable of rectifying the problem on their own.”
As if on
cue, a third pair of legs came into view.
This unit was also female, but above the knee-high boots Wendy could see
that the unit was wearing a spandex transformation suit just like hers. It was another Stage One unit—probably the
same unit that had plugged Wendy in.
The Stage One female reached over and removed the power cable connected
to Wendy’s back. Her hands moved to
Wendy’s left hip, and she pressed a sequence of buttons on the programming disk
mounted there.
Then she
picked something up off the sofa, something that had been lying next to Wendy’s
shoulder as she’d slept, and lifted it over Wendy’s head. Still unable to move, Wendy felt the headset
being nestled snugly over her ears.
Yes. It was time to receive
programming.
Instructions
immediately began to enter Wendy’s brain. ACTIVATE UNIT. That’s
strange, Wendy thought as her body turned itself over. If “activated” meant “conscious,” she’d
already been activated for a few minutes now.
She could only guess that she was being reset somehow. Her body was responding perfectly—turning to
allow her feet to touch the floor as her upper torso lifted smoothly to a
seated position—but her mind was a bit fuzzy.
As she stood up, Wendy felt completely detached from her physical self.
The
other Stage One unit was standing in front of her now, and Wendy could finally
see her face. The girl was new. Thick shoulder-length brown curls fell to
her shoulders, almost concealing her own headset. She was petite, and quite pretty. Despite her slack jaw and the vacant stare behind her black-rimmed
glasses, Wendy could sense somehow that this female was particularly
intelligent. A thought suddenly sprung
into her mind: She will make an
excellent android.
The
Stage One female—Wendy still couldn’t see what her designation was—stepped
forward, not quite looking at Wendy but instead seeming to stare off at the
wall behind her. Reaching down to
Wendy’s left hip, she pushed another button.
SET UNIT TO FUNCTIONAL LEVEL TEN.
Again, Wendy’s response was immediate.
“This.u.nit.is.now.set.at.func.tion.al.le.vel.ten,” she heard herself
say.
As the
Stage One female continued to press buttons on Wendy’s disk casing, Wendy was
still having a hard time thinking clearly.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was wrong. Then she realized what it was: she shouldn’t be thinking at all. At functional level ten, independent thought
was supposed to be impossible. Yet for
some reason, she couldn’t turn off her mind.
Then the
Stage One female pressed a final button, and the whirring of Wendy’s programming
disks rose as another sequence of data was accessed. Wendy felt a new set of instructions flow into her receptive
mind. No, Wendy suddenly realized, not
new—these instructions were all too familiar.
I am unit N988. I am an
android. I obey my programming.
I am unit N988. I am an
android. I obey my programming.
Over and
over, the disks were refilling her brain with her most basic programming,
reinforcing her identity and function as an N unit and smoothing away any
remaining uncertainty in her mind. It
was like being reprogrammed all over again.
Wendy’s eyelids fluttered, and she swayed slightly. A faint smile flickered for an instant at
the corners of her mouth.
“Unit
N1003 appears to have corrected the anomalous behavior in the other Stage One
unit,” Unit N991 was saying as Wendy’s consciousness began to give way to her
new robot self.
“Yes,”
Unit T801 replied. “Attagirl, Julie,”
she said proudly, but the Stage One unit who once answered to that name was
oblivious to everything but her programming.
And now,
for the first time in too long, so was Unit N988.
* * *
When
Unit N988 became aware of her surroundings again, she could tell somehow that
only a few seconds had passed. The
blissful deactivation of her consciousness was over, even though it was obvious
that her actions were still being controlled by her programming. She was still face to face with Unit N1003,
who was saying something in the flat monotone of a Stage One android.
“. . .
tine.Del.ta.2.3.and.re.port.”
Her
conscious mind had only heard the last few words of the command, but Unit N988
had nonetheless received it in its entirety.
INPUT RECEIVED. Accessing
data. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “This.u.nit.is.func.tion.ing.nor.mal.ly,”
N988 heard herself say.
“Del.ta.2.3.re.port.ends.”
Unit
N1003 did not acknowledge Wendy’s report, but rather turned neatly and
proceeded down the corridor.
RETURN
TO PROGRAMMING CUBICLE. The command
seemed to suffuse Wendy’s entire being, and her body immediately responded,
stepping forward and turning to follow Unit N1003. Soon she was walking down a long corridor, directly behind the
other Stage One unit, their footfalls in perfect lockstep. Behind her, she heard the voice of Unit T801
once again.
“OK,
that should do it,” the T unit was saying to Unit N991. “The Stage One unit should now resume its
preprogrammed functions. Come on, I
want to observe her.” As the two
androids followed behind her, Wendy could hear the gentle whirring of their
servos, the pleasant metallic ring of their chrome boots against the steel
floor. She thought about the words that
had come out of her mouth a moment ago.
From the way she was responding to the voice of her programming, she had
to imagine that she was functioning normally—and that in itself was something
of a relief amidst the confusion in her mind.
But she knew something about her wasn’t normal at all.
She
heard another voice in her mind: Rick’s
voice, repeating the words from her dream.
There’s something special about you, Wendy.
Wendy didn’t have time to consider what it all meant, for her body had
just turned ninety degrees to follow Unit N1003 into a large, brightly lit
chamber. Its walls were lined with
arched alcoves of white and chrome, each large enough to accommodate a single
person, many of which were occupied by young men and women standing at
attention in silver spandex transformation suits. At the center of the room, an eight-sided monitoring station
displayed the current progress of each unit, but there was no one there to see
it. Aside from the periodic beeping
from the monitoring station, the room was silent.
Unit
N1003 moved to the first empty alcove along the left-hand wall, stepping inside
and turning to face the interior of the room.
Overhead lights within the alcove immediately turned on to welcome her,
triggering a vague memory in Wendy’s mind.
As Wendy felt herself approach the next alcove, she suddenly remembered
helping to construct this seemingly unfamiliar chamber. That had been three days ago, when she’d
first been brought to the recruiting center—and Wendy now realized that she’d
visited this place each morning since, though she couldn’t remember its
purpose.
Upon
stepping into the alcove, Wendy dutifully turned around to stand at
attention. PREPARE FOR INTERFACE. The lights above her came on, and Wendy
heard a low hum as the machines around her came to life. She felt a satisfying click between her
shoulder blades as a power coupling pressed firmly into place—the earlier
recharge had only been enough to get her back to this chamber—and began slowly
filling her with energy. Then a pair of
rigid tubes, one from each side of the open archway in which she stood, began
to extend from the walls in front of her.
Soon the tubes reached her abdomen, forming perfect seals as they made
contact with the silver fabric of her transformation suit.
Wendy
felt a strange sensation in her belly as the left-hand tube began to draw
fluids out of her body. The feeling was
very odd, but pleasant. An instant
later, she felt a cool rush from the other tube. Something else was gradually being pumped into her.
Unit
T801 came into her field of vision for a moment, pausing to examine her
briefly. “The unit seems to be
functioning perfectly,” she observed.
“The sustenance
apparatus registers normal readings as well,” Unit N991 added, crossing over
from the central monitoring station to stand next to her superior.
“As you
can see with Units N988 and N1003,” T801 explained, “the transformation suit
slows the unit’s biological functions significantly . . . so much so that one
nutrient cycle per day is sufficient to keep her functioning.”
“How
long can a Stage One unit subsist like this?” N991 asked.
“Well,
we’re not quite sure . . . it’s one of the experiments we’re running. We believe that when we accelerate our
recruiting efforts, it will be common for units to remain at Stage One for
extended periods of time, until they assemble the equipment necessary to
transform themselves into fully functional androids. That’s why I’m so pleased with the way this trial is going.”
The two
androids watched in silence for a minute or so as the machines continued their
maintenance of Wendy’s biological systems.
Already, Wendy was feeling stronger, more refreshed. But she couldn’t help but feel upset that
her obsolete flesh still hadn’t been upgraded to cybernetics.
“All
right,” T801 was saying to N991, “I wanted you to see this first-hand, but the
rest you’ll understand once you’ve downloaded the data you need. By this afternoon you’ll be the one in
charge of recording and analyzing the Stage One units’ progress.”
“Affirmative,”
N991 stated flatly as she followed Unit T801 out of the room.
It
wasn’t long before the voice in Wendy’s head announced that her maintenance was
complete. DISENGAGE UNIT. The tubes gently detached themselves from
Wendy’s body and retracted into the walls.
RESUME PROGRAM. As the power
coupling disconnected, Wendy stepped forward into the room. Unit N1003 had also emerged from her alcove,
and was standing at attention before a closed door opposite the one through
which they’d entered. The door opened,
and another Stage One female entered, escorting a young man into the
chamber. Though he was covered in tight
silver spandex from head to toe, it was obvious from his behavior that he had
yet to receive even the most rudimentary Stage One programming.
“Hi,”
the young man said to Unit N1003, “I’m Doug.
But, um, I guess you can call me Unit N1012.” Unit N1003 said nothing, but simply took him by the arm. As the other Stage One female—Unit
N1001—began to walk toward Wendy, Doug continued to talk to Unit N1003. “Man, you girls are incredible,” he said as
she gently guided him toward an empty alcove.
Unit
N1001 came to a stop directly in front of Wendy, and her head cocked to one
side, her short blonde hair brushing against her shoulder. The girl’s clear blue eyes seemed to stare
right through Wendy. “U.nit.N.9.8.8,”
she intoned, her voice flat but assertive.
She did not wait for acknowledgment.
“You.will.re.port.to.pro.duc.tion.fa.ci.li.ty.one.”
INPUT
RECEIVED. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Un.der.stood,” Wendy heard herself say—and
a rush of electricity danced along her spine.
It felt so wonderful to receive commands and obey them. She was functioning normally.
A part of her was becoming grateful that she could experience
functional level ten with her conscious mind, even as she continued to wonder
how this was possible.
REPORT
TO PRODUCTION FACILITY ONE. Without
further thought, Wendy turned away from Unit N1001, who was already stepping
into one of the alcoves to be recharged and reprogrammed. Wendy—Unit N988, she reminded
herself—walked stiffly toward the door, past the alcove where the male named
Doug was being fitted with a programming helmet for his Stage One
processing. Unit N988’s own programming
told her that the new Stage One male was irrelevant to her current
function. Like all superfluous input,
his presence must be ignored. But the
part of her that was still Wendy wanted nothing more than to talk to him, to be
with him.
One of
these days, she was going to be paired with a male companion unit—they couldn’t
make her wait much longer, could they?—and she couldn’t help but wonder if this
male would be the one. If only she
could turn to look at him, but her programming wouldn’t allow it.
“So is this thing going to turn me into a robot?” she heard him ask as
she left the room—and somewhere behind the blank expression on her beautiful
face, Wendy smiled.