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• 19:26 • Friday • April 26, 2024 • 341 members • 92,994 files uploaded • 109,323 pages • 186,013 edits • |
The newly-named Raasantira, seeing “her” synthetic servant at the door, delicately lifted its finger off the buzzer, a soft and haughty smile on its lips. The two androids still looked like identical twins, but the similarity did not register at all in the simple computer “mind” of the former Rasany Two-C, blocked out by a number of sophisticated algorithms. It perceived its sister robot as a slave, a tool to be used, nothing more. Their former friendship, a mass-market script of fake memories of fictional nightclubs, had been completely deleted. Gone was the android’s former informality and casual, comfortable attire. It now wore a tight red silk pantsuit, an expensive piece from a hot Indian fashion house, that hugged its hips, gracefully squeezed its busom, and somehow put the whole length of its cleavage on display in tasteful style, like a comfortable room designed around a nude painting. Its black hair was greased and done up in a $300 beehive. It sat softly on a Louis XVI couch.
“RaniBot,” it said in a voice laced with honey and aluminum, “Come here.” |
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