Mysteries Of The Castle!
'The key is to remember that they are not human', was Greg's motto. It helped that while he had to take orders from androids, he also controlled them. In a way. He was an expert with the hardware, and not reprogramming, but he was good with repairs. His impressions on his 'masters' was therefore strongly influenced by the quality of their mechanisms. You see, Greg worked as a technician in Tidyshire Castle, which was like Medieval World in Delos - only smaller, intended for 10 guests or so, and styled to early part of good, old 20th century. The company requested that al least one person interacting with guests in such a small park was human technician - to help guests with technical problems. Therefore, he acted as major-domo to Duchess and Duke and their family.
The robot he liked best was Calvin, the only son of the Duchess and Duke. He was designed as a 'nerd', somewhat oblivious to the social skills, though quite handsome. Greg was somewhat similar to him. At least he thought so. Calvin was popular with the female guests who looked for someone caring and trustworthy. He seemed to need care. From Greg's point of view, another good point of TSC-06m was that he was calm and his machinery remained in good condition through all that years. He was very well programmed, very realistic, and he could outstand therest of his 'family'. Sometimes he thought of Calvin as of 'young master', and treated him almost like a human in his mind.
The second favorite of Greg's was Winifred, the Duchess herself. A huge, fiftyish, though still good looking lady with a giant golden hairdo and her inseparable pince-nez, he was to him first and foremost the oldest part of equipment he maintained. He was with her... about ten years. He has changed his tools, but good old Winnie stayed the same. Of course, some parts had to be exchanged, including even an arm and a pair of eyes. But he has kept her in a good condition, though once a year or so she had a serious system crash. TSC-01f was one of the first robots to work in the Castle for all times long. Greg, of course, had sex with her on more than one occasion, and mildly enjoyed it. It... (she, he corrected himself) She had large, non-standard clit, wide vagina, and great, sweaty breasts (European sex circuits, cheap but hard to get back then), but was rather reserved. Though making her want him was easy, he simply didn't have the skills to make her forget he's the butler, and she treated him in a very grandiose manner. But she was good in bed. Very good. A lot of men, some of whose (if she was human of course) could have been her grandchildren praised her. Well, Greg accepted her intelligence and her very good social skills.TSC-01f's neural net was very well developed, after all those years. The bosses even thought of giving her a pet to raise, but Greg said that that would require either her running at least 16/h per day, or him taking care of a goddamned puppy instead of the machines.
Two days before the guests' arrival Greg's duty was to check all the robots in the castle and give them a trial run. When the Castle was 'off', he no longer felt like a butler, and didn't knock on the door. The invisible system built in the walls recognised Greg. Always. there were no door or window he could not open. Duke and Duchess needed keys, and he wore them, too, just to sustain the illusion in guests, but they were merely a decoration. He entered the Marie's room.
Marie was a French maid. He actually had asked the bosses for a human maid, one that would manage th programming of the bots. They sent Marie, who had great ass instead. Dissapointing, though not entirely. TSC-12f was now more and more used, and she would require spare parts soon. Some people complained about her lubrication errors.
Greg looked at the young redheaded woman lying in the recharge pod, a glass structure embeded in the wall. He entered the code to TSC-12f cleaning mode, and observed.
The pod opened. there was no mystical mists,and the robot stiffly exited it.
'12f, what is your energy bank state?', he asked.
'87%-recharged-TSC-12f-unit-fully-operational', it said in the blank voice, devoid of her cliche french accent.
'Good', he said, completely needlessly. 'You'll clean the guests area, all the robots and rooms, except for the crypt. Understood?'
'Affirmative', TSC-12f said. It bent over, exposing her best side, and dressed in her maid uniform. The recharge pod disappeared into wall.
Greg went to the empty kitchen of the castle to make a breakfast for himself. After that, he went to his room and tookthe lift to the control center. The
Marie has cleaned the rooms of Duke and duchess by that time. Well, it was time to say 'Good morning' to the mistress, wasn't it?
The Duke actually came first. He also was in his recharge pod, in his bedroom. He and his wife did have a common bedroom, but they didn't use it. Greg asked Duke about that, but it proved to be a fault in programming. Of course, that made guests' meetings with the couple much, much easier, so no one objected. Greg, dressed as a butler, entered the room of the old master.
Alfred, hte Duke of the Tidyshire was not the first robot to work as that personality. The previous were Merton, jovial, bumbling old fool and Colonel Steven, strict veteran. Alfred was the suave playboy type, more popular with younger women. He was about younger than his wife, 40 or so. He had greying hair that was eternally receding. As a piece of equipment he was not troublesome, though he was kind of unpredictable. Duchess and all other droids were reprogrammed when TSC-07m was brought here, but Greg still had the feeling that Winifred treated her 'new' husband as something undiscovered. Well, maybe her neural net couldn't shift as rapidly as others'?
He activated the Duke (100% charged!), and ordered him to take a shower. At breakfast (his breakfast) it will be the 07m who will give the orders. He entered the Duchess room. The tall, goldenhaired matron exited the recharge pod in the same stiff manner he knew and liked. Greg liked to watch as she dresses up. As he checked her new arm, all seemed OK.
'Winifred.', he said. 01f ignored him, but this was-more or less- obvious. For him, she's either respond at 'Your Grace', 'M'lady', or 01f. Greg looked at the big woman doning her white morning robes, and during all these years he learned how to recognise the disappearance of 01f and appearance of the fearsome Duchess.
The key was the facial expression. When something other than the eye moved, the Duchess appeared. But this time he had to wait longer than usual. 'Your Grace?', he asked. The robot didn't move. 'TSC-01f, respond!', he demanded, a bit late.
The plastic lady stretched, and looked angrily at him. 'Jenkins? You DO have manners! I do not remember calling Jenkins to my boudoir! Please come out!'.
'Old Winnie is haughty as always. And I worried that something may be wrong today.', Greg thought as he left the room. He looked at his control device, disguised as an old watch. Marie was finishing to clean Calvin and his wife's. Well, the girls were next.
Duke and Duchess had two unmarried daughters, though Dorothy was for 6 years engaged for a year. Monica was rather tomboyish, rebelious girl. What Greg didn't like in her was the fact that she was naturally adventurous - climbing and swimming in the ponds. He often asked to replace the entire unit, but the bosses refused - Meek Dorothy and Active Monica were a good pair. Of course, it meant more frequent repairs and once even closing of the castle, but the personality of Monica was more important. Greg didn't really like her as a machine, and subsequently as a person. Dorothy was blonde, lightweight girl, more romantically set. She had a larger room to use with her fiancee, but he took the guest room, strategically placed next to the female guest quarters. Monica lived in a smallest room of all the family apartaments, still, she couldn't complain. The problem was she was programmed to do so. She often said that she wanted to see the world, but of course she didn't even knew what was outside the Shire. Both units 3 and 4 were charged.
05m, or Roger Contres, boyfriend of Dorothy was also 100% working. Apart from that, he was blonde, tanned and well muscled, but that didn't interest Greg. He was a new addition, replaced and replaced Martin, who was also very popular.
If there was any robot Greg hated, it was Contessa Isabella Duessa Tidyshire, formerly de la Plastica. He would call her bitchy, artificial, plastic whore, if she wasn't already programmed to be bitchy, artificial, plastic whore. She looked twice as old as her husband, Calvin, and she wore that much makeup that if he turned back rapidly, her face would have stayed in place. She was small, but with a huge bust and wasp-thin, and - despite the outrageous quantity of make-up - very attractive. She was the new addition to the family, and yet Calvin was completely in her control. Winifred was programmed to treat her as the best friend, but Duessa in turn was programmed to abuse her friendship. In most intrigues and scenarios that took place in the castle it was she who was the villain. And, if for some reason she was innocent you could bet that she had her share in the crime. She was the resident bitch of the Castle, power-hungry Cruella de Ville, complete with an outrageous accent, and penchant for unusual clothing.
Greg hated her not only because of her treatment of her husband (though none of the robots was programmed for fidelity), but of her strange physical state. Her rignt hand had the strange, unexplainable malfunction - it sometimes shook for 10 or 15 seconds. Therefore, she was reprogrammed - by Greg - to be left handed, another trait associated with evil. Apart from that, her sex circuits sometimes activated without any reason. Greg knew what was the cause of it, but the malfunction repeated. And 08f was the newest robot, newest model in the house!
Greg sometimes thought that it is some sort of electronic deviation. The core programming of Contessa occasionally allowed normal deviation, but apart from occasional boots-n-whip routine on guest demand she exhibited no such behavior. She was, however grotesque, rather human in her behavior. She has of couse slept with Duke and Roger, and occasionally with Greg. He understood then why the guests allowed her to stay. He guessed that she was the most popular doll here, now that she arrived. Both her social (intrigue) skills and her sex prowess proved the progress of the Artificial Intelligence. She could do three men at once, just to encourage them to poison the Duke and Duchess, and then pushing poor Calvin from cliffs (a dreaded thing to repair, but possible).
Oddly enough. today she ignored 'Jenkins', and immediately ran to the huge mirror on the wall. 'M'lady, M'lord,' he adressed Calvin and Bitch, 'the breakfest will be served in an hour, in the red Dining Room.' She ignored him, and grasped the jar of the face powder. she was the only robot with extended fingernails, which now grew longer since her last activation. Number 10m (Bert, the younger butler) and 11f (charlotta, the cook) were obedient and nice, as ususal. Well, he was a boss to them. When Marie finished cleaning, her core programming will activate. Some other 1x robots were ready and waiting for the module.
Greg looked at his watch. He could give today the trial run to 91f and 92m, too. They were the vampires of the crypt, Genevieve and Vlad. Designed specifically to the guests who wanted a gothic romance and horror feeling. They actualy bit people, without their explicit demand! No other robot had power to hurt people without the consent of the interested. He shrug, and decided not even to enter the crypt. They could wait till midnight. Well, the breakfast was ready.
'Good morning, Your Lordships, how was your night?', he greeted them casually, entering the cart with tea and buns.
The robot nobles, of course except the Duchess and Isabella, blinked, startled. They didn't have a night, Greg remembered. They spent last month charging. 'Very relaxing, Jenkins.', the duchess answered, her eyes focused on his face. He ignored her subtle irony. Isabella, browsing the 'Financial Times' (as greedy as commanding), just nodded gracefully. The rest of the family quickly relaxed and returned to the casual banter. 'Any plans for today, Your Graces?', Greg asked. 'I thought of a quick game of golf, Jenkins.', Alfred declared. 'This afternoon. You don't have anything to do, chap?'. 'Oh, no sir. That is... if the ladies won't object. I understand that the young master will be occupied with his studies?' Calvin nodded. 'I have business matters', Isabella said gesticulating vividly 'I must attend.' Business matters meant talking to the telephone and pretending that she was making important calls. Still, she THOUGHT she was making them. 'Later, we will join our happy couple on their picnic'.(her Italian accent was horrible) Calvin didn't even blink. Was that realistic? Greg made a mental note to take a better look and try to make him more independent. He quickly realised that he is losing his role. 'A picnic, M'lady?' He looked at Dorothy and Roger. 'Yes', the girl nodded. Roger added: 'We'll ask Charlotta for some cake and sandwiches. Don't worry about us, Jenkins.'. Monica claimed that she will catch up with some reading. The mother of the family appeared to think deeply of something. Greg was almost certain, that she meant the guests coming in two days' time. He knew the programming of 01f almost by heart. But she surprised him saying: 'Well, I don't want to stop you. I hope you'll have a great fun. I'll just stay here, review my collections.' Greg was afraid that if he mentions the guests, Winifred will scold him again, ending with the reset of the family, so he simply asked whether he would be needed later. 'No, Jenkins, enjoy the fresh air with the Duke'.
Leaving the room Greg sighed. The bots are behaving oddly, and it's another caddy afternoon. Of course he was not afraid that the duchess would do something irresponsible - she was AI worth half a million after all. But the deviation from the program should be observed. Luckily, he got his watch, and Duke would be more occupied by the game than by his caddy.
The golf bats were heavy, and the non-tiring robot would be more efficient as a caddy, but that was the good paid job. Greg could decrease or increase Alfred's skill but both attempts would require him to move a lot and detain him from the observation of Duchess. He took his pocket watch, opened it, and requested the holographic screen. 'Localise 01f!', he demanded. The Duchess simply sat on the sofa sipping something from the cocktail glass. Greg was not really confused - the guests were the chief motor of the action in the castle. Without them the roles of the dolls proved empty. The Duchess said something to the Marie who started the gramophone...
He stopped the watching to take the ball from the hole, and, after praising the robot, he returned to overseeing. Isabella's apparel was complete - tight red leather jacket, and informal short skirt. Somehow, she managed to convince Duchess to ignore 'such extravagance' in her style. As usual, she was ranting over Calvin, waving her left hand adorned with metal bracelets and holding a cigarette. Her husband was searching for something... Ah, yes, her ear ring. Monica was in the stables, mending horses. The horses were robot, too. They didn't even require a stablehand. Calmed, he returned to the Duchess. The nude duchess, who sat opposite to the giant mirror in the Isabella's room, and masturbated. She pinched her giant, swollen nipples, and licked her big breasts with pleasure. The other hand was moving in and out of the vagina, and the woman moaned and huffed. 'She never... It's the first day! Why?' Greg was pretty sure that that wasn't a hardware mistake. He really needed a programist now. His mistress moaned silently with delight, her hair tossed back. She was laughing and moaning, smiling wide with her eyes closed. Her chest moved like any woman's. Greg briefly thought that it may be his fault, since he stayed the 30 seconds in her bedroom, but rejected the thought
Greg had some difficulties in convincing the Duke to join the picnic, but he didn't have to resort to robot commands. After all, he didn't have anything else to do. Greg could have used the underground tunnels to the castle, but the day was beautiful, so he decided to walk normally. He walked with Alfred to the picnic site. Calvin was reading something, and Dorothy was watching the river, her shapely legs hung from the small bridge. Isabella lied on her back smoking another cigarette, and listening to Roger with mild interest. Duke quickly helped himself to food, and even offered Greg some. As he was tired, he thanked him, and listened to Roger, talking about some sport events. Duke was, obviously, interested, and started a conversation. Greg made a mental note to add to his programming that it was him who arranged Roger's and Dorothy marriage. It would be a nice touch. Anyway, they are calm now, nothing... 'Tired, Jenkins?', low voice of Contessa alerted him. He quickly stood up, while she took a deep drag of her cigarette. The malfunctioning right hand was on her full rounded hip. Allright. So, what does she want? 'Yes, ma'am', he admitted. 'It was an exhausting game'. She nodded, her eyes closed. She took another deep drag, and puffed the cigarette with delight. They did have something like a taste and smell, or at least somewhat advanced chemical sensors, but Contessa was (of course) overacting, enjoying something that Greg didn't own. Luckily, he was a non-smoker. 'You are not a sportsman yourself, Jenkins?' 'No, ma'm, though I try to keep fit. But I am hardly keen on sport.'. 'I can't stand those boring conversations', she pointed at the two men discussing something in the glade. 'They are... so... childish'. 'So, what are you going to do with this?', Greg instinctlively asked, and quickly added 'Milady'. She didn't notice that, and appeared to squint her eyes. She did that when she was thinking about something. 'Nevermind, Jenkins', she answered after a longer while. A secret? Too bad, that he couldn't read her mind. He really needed to move beyond the basic programming courses. Still, that was nothing odd. 'Maybe you should chat with Her Grace? She must be rather lonely now', he suggested. She nodded, her eyes somewhat absent. Without a word, she turned back, and with a visible sway of her hips she returned to the group. 'You are welcome', Greg sighed.
After leaving the groups he headed back through the woods. He was pretty certain, that the Duchess finished her self-exploration, and he hoped to call the company to report that. He was rather surprised to see Monica in the saddle. 'Hi, Gregory!', she greeted him, slowing down and finally stopping. the horses were the steeds that never rebelled and had no bad smell. 'I just sneaked out for a quick ride. Don't tell mother that, right?' He simply smiled. 'Whew', she jumped down. 'I am tired. I hope no one notices... Am I sweaty?' Greg looked at her. The sweat was necessary, but (mostly) smell-less. The robot was not covered with it, but some of the fluids did leaked through from small storage areas from under skin. 'Slightly', he answered with a smile on his face. 'Would you sneak me through the service door? I'll take a quick shower'. 'So, you have finished your ride?', he asked as she walked next to him, leading the horse. 'I don't want Mother to find out. Are the others busy?' 'Yes, though I'm afraid that Contessa could be walking to the castle now. Their Lordships are nevertheless enjoying the weather.' The algorithms of Monica stopped for a moment. Greg was aware that Monica treated her sister-in-law as an interesting person, and she merely recorded the fact in her memory. Greg would bet that she'll say something... 'I hope we meet her.' 'Bingo', Greg said silently, only moving his lips. 'The evening is near', he pointed out quietly. 'I hoped to serve one common evening meal'. She smiled, though it took her longer to usual to analyze this piece of information. Of course, Greg had nothing against meeting Contessa again, as she was only doing her programming. As Monica did. 'Any plans for tomorrow, milady?' 'I thought that I could play tennis with Father or Roger. Or just go on a walk... I hope that someone interesting arrives soon'. It was natural, wasn't it? the robots were created to serve guests. That was their primary function. 'In a day's time, milady', he assured her. She smiled.
As he promised, after leaving the horse tied in the stables, he let Monica through the service entrance. "The castle needs a regular pool", he thought. The servants' quarters didn't have the shower, and Monica occupied the first floor bathroom. Well, he could wait. After greeting Charlotta, and asking her what was for dinner, he rushed to the Control Center in the cellars. He turned on the monitors and begun observations. 01f was reading something in the balcony. She behaved as if nothing happened. 03f was taking a shower. Greg looked at young, sporty body of the Monica, as she was covering her shapes with soap, and then quickly unxovering it with water. She flexed. The water was probably cold. (Which was good, since after prolonged physical activity there was always the risk of overheating, thought Greg). Other robots returned from their picnic, Roger carrying hte blankets, and Contessa leading the pack. Well, that did it. Greg stared for some time at Monica taking the shower, and waited to jump in it himself. There was also the case of 01f. Should he report she masturbated today? Probably not. if it would repeat next day, he'd report. But it was probably a direct need of a man.
Later that evening, Greg was dusting the library. Calvin was there, complaining about the lack of focus, but he was really engrossed in lecture. That is, till Contessa hadn't stormed in, thrown his books at floor and in loud, aggresive voice told Greg to get the hell out. So he got the hell out. When he was going to sleep, he stumbled on Monica and Dorothy. They were simply looking at each other, hiding in an alcove in the corridor. They weren't moving, though Greg could see them breathing. Thet was the good sign. "Excuse me", he checked whether they responded. They did. 'Yes, Jenkins?', they asked in unison. They didn't even giggled or smiled afterwards. It was that little details that made Greg reject their charms. 'I was just interested... What are you doing?'. He hoped not to offend them. 'Oh...' Dorothy became embarassed. 'Monica wanted to talk about me and Roger... about marriage..., and Isabella isn't available...' It wasn't that far away from the library that Greg could not hear some Italian screams and squeaks, so he nodded. 'And you didn't know what to say, so you got lost in your thoughts.' It took a 1.16 seconds, clearly visible to Greg, to make this concept find way to the girls' minds. 'Yes', Dorothy answered, and smiled apologetically. Greg could assure the Monica that a guest will take care of her, but he didn't really want to meddle with 03f's neural-net, so he just said: 'Maybe you should talk with your mother, or wait for madame Isabella to... finish.' The irony seemed lost on the robots. Greg walked away, though Monica looked somewhat longingly at him.
As Greg went to sleep, he had a feeling that he had forgotten something. An hour later, the clock struck midnight. In the underground crypt... A recharge chamber, disguised as a sarcophagus opened, revealing gorgeous, magnificent pale red headed beauty. She went straight to the standing position, without even bending her knees, and opened her eyes. 'After a long time, I have awakened', she said with a slight French accent. It was Genevieve. she wore ancient, baroque-like dress, which fit her wonderfully. She smiled, exposing her teeth - her fangs could really suck blood, and they were retractable, so in effect she could be an ordinary robot. Vlad was tall, handsome and mysterious. Technically, they were not a pair, unless a guest appeared to want to get involved in a vampire triangle. So, she paid little attention to him. She walked, a little bit stiffly to the crypt door. It was closed. 'Mais non.' she grinned, this time exposing the fangs. 'But there are other ways to quench our thirst, aren't there, Vlad'. He nodded, and pulled the ring in the wall. Secret passage has opened. Two android vampires, a little bit stiffly, walked from their chamber.
The next day Greg has awakened, and he didn't even have to wake the family. They took care of themselves. Mechanism once started could work indefinitely... Well, with come control after all. In the Control Center he encountered a surprise message. The guests were arriving today evening. Someone decided to call off the visit in Alice's Wonderland, and four new guests were to arrive in 10 hours. A black married couple, and two young, unmarried bachelors before one's wedding. George sighed, and printed out a letter of warning. He decided that the Duchess will invite the couple... And Duke could invite the boys. This was one of the basic changes in programming that he could make. He didn't even have to get close to them.
After the game of tennis between Monica and Dorothy Duke and Duchess said that the guests will appear in the dinner. Monica actually jumped with joy. Isabella asked her inlaws what are the guest going to be like, and appeared satisfied, though they knew only what the guests said about themselves in the interview with the company. 'Finally!', she exclaimed. 'Something is going to happen in this remote hermitage.' That was pretty complicated metaphore, for a robot, and even Duchess appeared to be blank-faced by it. How come she learned this, wondered Greg. Probably from Calvin, he read the most of the family... But he should understand it too... Nevermind. He was ready for the guest's arrival. A car awaited them near the gate...
To be continued...
The guests were waiting outside the woods, at the gate, where the area of the park ended. Greg led them to the hidden compartment nearby, and asked them to wear the period costumes. Dalseys were afroamerican businesspeople. Their skin color was of no consequence to the robots and to the Greg. They seemed to be happily married, and probably less interested in romance and more in the joys of country life. Steve and Mark, on the other hand were probably looking for an adventure. 'Well, are you ready?', he asked. Come on, I have a car, like they did in 20th century. This one is a beauty. An electric replica of 1933 bentley."
The girls were waiting outside the castle. Monica wore sporty tennis wear and Dorothy a flowered, frilly dress. Greg had warned the guests that the savoir faire requires them to be formally introduced to the salon, so he let the girls to do the actual job. They did it hundreds of times...
Winifred and her husband were waiting for the guests in the hall. Greg presented them officially, but something was worrying him... Calvin was with his mother and father, near Roger. But... where was Contessa? He was just reaching for his control device, his watch, but Duchess interrupted him by asking 'Jenkins, is the supper ready? Something... special?' 'Why, I will go and ask Charlotte, what she's going to serve', he answered eagerly. When he left the chamber, the last thing he saw was Mark catching Monica's butt.
Monica didn't object, and she actually smiled at him, showing her perfect white teeth. She was programmed to flirt. And her mother was programmed to allow for the flirt, as long as it wasn't too overt. Luckily for the Mark, she was too busy talking with Mrs. Dalsey. "So, you live here long?' "All my life." "Do you like it here?" "Sometimes I think that I have seen every rock and every tree here, but... I guess i like our home." "Will you show me around, Monica?", he quickly asked. "With pleasure." This was one of the fields where she really shone. There were some forbidden areas like childhood or her plans for the future, but guests weren't interested in those. Mark and Monica sat in the corner, and talked about the land. That is, Mark was listening while the robot did the talking.
Greg has forgotten about Contessa who just has finished the talk with Genevieve. The red-headed vampiress was less intelligent, but not fully realised that. Contessa thought to herself (or rather, would have thought if she was a human being), that she will be a perfect pawn. "Here's to friendship", she said as she took the glass of wine in her hand. She and Genevieve tasted some of it, but Vlad just said "I don't drink... wine.". Oddly enough, he couldn't be convinced by Genevieve actually drinking it. None of the robots realised that he was programmed to say so. They didn't even inquired. Isabella left the room, to join the family's dinner.Genevieve sat in the deep armchair, her fingertips together, and relaxed. Isabella as a part of their exchange promised to give her some more contemporary clohes, but presently she looked as an ancient china figure of a lady, with bliss visible on the white, immaculate face.
To be continued...
'So, Steven... Do you like it here?', Duchess smiled quite warmly at the young man. He was a bit lonely, so the programming of the robot naturally directed it to guest. 'Yes, I like the place... I think that you and your husband must be proud of it. ', he answered. 'Oh, we are, we are indeed. But this is not only our work, there's the work of our servants'. 'What do you do here, exactly?' 'Well, I'm a noblewoman!', she laughed. 'Our duties are to govern the lands.' 'What about your family?', he asked. 'What's with them?' 'What are their duties?' 'Oh, the children will receive their share of the land when I'm dead'. He laughed. She smiled at him, jokingly, a really hard thing to do when you're a robot. 'What about your husband?' The robot was kind of baffled by this question, but she simply answered: 'Yes, when we both pass away' 'Oh, you are still very young... Very good looking', Steve complimented her. 'You really think so?', she smiled at him. 'Of cour...' The conversation was disturbed by the entrance of the Contessa. The petite robot was dressed in wasp-like costume, a yellow and black miniskirt, black jacket, and large black glasses. 'Winnie, darling, I'm so sorry that I'm late. You have NO idea what I've been through!', the short, tanned woman gesticulated wildly. 'You must introduce me to this charming young man!' Duchess was stumped. She was stuck in a loop. If she was human, she would be angry at her friend. Unfortunately, she wasn't one. The pre-programmed friendship with Contessa conflicted with her anger and jealousy. She got stuck, and Contessa has taken that as a normal pause. 'Fine', she pursed her lips. She turned to Steve, 'Allow me to introduce myself, I am a woman of wealth and taste... I'm Contessa Isabella Duessa Tidyshire, but you may call me Contessa. Or Bella.' Steve was intrigued by this lady. Duchess was stuck, and appeared to be immobile. Afraid that he might have broken the robot, he followed the newcomer to the table.
'FUCK!', greg was locked in his control room, and the control showed the state of the Duchess. He entered the diagnostic mode, but he could not understand the data flowing everywhere. Therefore, he summoned her to the control room.
To be continued...
Duchess was walking slowly and stiffly towards the laboratory, her core programming only active. Marie was walking past, and she curtsied, just as she should. The big woman finally walked to the lab, and Greg begun to take her apart. First, he undressed her, and then he used his watch to completely turn 01f off, and he pressed the small button in the back. With almos inaudible sound, the front panel of 01f opened. It was a mass of wires, and greg started to examine them, one by one. 01f was perfectly immobile. Ok, a software problem, Greg sighed. He opened a small panel in the woman's neck. Apart from the normal disk drive, there was a number of hidden sockets. Greg plugged her to the main computer, and prayed that this would be something simple. Computer screen became flooded with data. Resigned, Greg reached for the manual.
Mark has gone to sleep, and Monica decided it would be best to leave him at peace by now. She would have gone to her room, if not Marie, who was going to take a shower. A roleplay algorythm gave her the idea, to discuss her new relationship with someone. Marie was busy, but she always had mother, Contessa or her sister, didn't she? Unluckily, her mother was nowhere to be found, so she knocked on Calvin and Contessa's room. No one answered, but the door was opened, so Marie walked in. Genevieve was pretty much surprised, when a young woman walked into the room. She was now dressed in a simple cocktail dress, and when she saw Monica she rapidly jumped towards her. She didn't defend, astonished. Vampiress grabbed the girl, and pulled her into the room. 'Who are you? Where's Calvin, Isabella?', she shouted, trying to escape the grip of red headed beauty.
To be continued...
Monica was at the verge of the breakdown. Literally. The processes conflicted since the moment the Contessa entered her room. Monica lied bound by Genevieve, looking with terror at the unknown woman. 'What are you going to do with her?', Genevieve asked. Contessa wasn't really sure. She was as confused as the other robots, but she appeared to think deeply. Monica's appearing wasn't predicted. 'Leave.', she ordered Genevieve out. The vampiress obeyed. Contessa took a cigarette and looked at poor Monica. Her mind worked faster and faster. 'Well, Monica', the wicked woman took a deep drag. 'If you promise not to tell anyone you seen my friend...'. Monica broke down. She immediately entered reboot stage, and Isabella, confused observed the twitches of the girl. Then, someone knocked at the door. Isabella swore, and assessed the situation nearly as quickly as human being would,pushing monica, now stiff and immobile to the closet. She extinguished the cigarette, and rushed to open the door. It was Steve. She pulled him in, and locked the door. 'So, what are going to discuss?', she smiled, showing her perfectly white and even teeth. 'Philosophy? Art? Culture? Sex?'. Steve smiled apologetically, as Contessa stripped down, pulling off her tight black evening dress. She was tanned, with a petite body and slightly oversized breasts, though she really looked beautiful. She approached Steve with a wicked, tirumphant smile. If she were human, she would laugh, since at this very moment, she invented a way of disposing of Monica.
To be continued...
The Duchess lied on her back, stiff, not moving nor breathing, stripped nude. She was turned off, and her control panel in her abdomen was exposed. One red and one black wire was plugged into her, but the most disturbing was the head. A small blue cable was plugged into her wide open mouth, as the senses porcessors were located in robot's head. The CPU was in the torso, as well as the mechanisms for the movement, and a small radio for connection with the main computer. Now, only the disk was on, and Greg was looking at the readouts trying to understand what has happened. He secretly has hoped that a reboot would be enough, but all he got was overflow errors. He sighed and reached for the manual.
To be continued...
Stunned technician observed printouts and screens with mild panic. He couldn't understand even the half of the stuff stated there. Resigned, he pulled out his watch with robot control system, and reached for the Duchess' abdomen. One cable was connected to the main computer, but now he plugged it into the watch. That way, though the scope of commands was more limited, the communications were simpler too. He looked at the error communicates, and hesitantly selected the restoration option. 01f would be restored to the last backup, and Greg hoped that she would'n have lost more memories than it was necessary. The memory disk started to work, humming quietly in Duchess' insides. What Greg didn't expect was she standing up, looking around, frightened. She realised that she was nude, tried to find something to cover up, and ran away from the lab, the control watch still plugged into her. Greg swore volubly, and not thinking much, h ran after her.
Isabella lighted a postcoital cigarette, looking at sleeping Steve without any signs of feeling at her beautiful face. She was planning, and Steve or anyone except her hardly mattered in her plans. But, there were of course problems. She reached for her silk, red robe, and walked to the closet where she had put Monica. The girl had unknowingly to anyone rebooted. She didn't remember Contessa assaulting her, or even the presence of Genevieve. But she was so... confused. "Monica.", Isabella called her quietly, "We have to talk." She released her out of the closet, and raised her eyebrow - marking a surprise when the girl behaved calmly. "Ok, Isabella. Why I ame in the closet?" Contessa was slightly confused, but she proved her technical superiority by simply stating "It was for your safety. I couldn't risk anyone finding out that you and me..." Monica laughed "No, auntie. How could anyone thought..." "Listen Monica", Contessa returned to her prepared speech. "You simply won't tell anyone that you saw the red headed woman in my room. Because..." "You mean Marie? I haven't seen her here..." Contessa nodded, not showing her confusion. She quickly adjusted to the new situation.
To be continued...
Duchess was running, naked, through her home, random cables hanging from her abdomen. Her big breasts jumped, when she moved, and she produced glistening sweat, or sweat analogue. Her electronic mind was in strange state. Newly restored to order, yet filled with contrastive ideas. Some parts of it tried to understand why she was in Greg's room, naked, and some discouraged the other parts form running through home nude. Yet, the program was keeping most of her procedures working. The robot managed to develop quite a spectacular speed without stopping for catching a breath, or feeling that a woman around fifty shouldn't really run like that. She stopped and look around, discovering that she could get some clothes here. She ran toward the door, and opened it hastily..
To be continued...
Contessa looked at gathered guests and the family with proud, though her face was hidden behind the veil. 'Friends', she began, "we gathered here to pay homage to Alfred, previous Duke of Tidyshire... and predecessor of my husband. With the disappeareance of my best friend, Winifred, I have also became the new Dutchess..." She paused, looking at the door. Allthe guests turned back to see Winifred, resting on Dorothy's shoulder, breating heavily, with her panel exposed, and sparks flying. Isabella was shocked. She absolutely and totally wasn't prepared for this, and so were all the other robots. Except for the Winifred, who walked to Contessa, and turned her off. Some of the robots shut down at this but Winifred was not finished yet. She held the watch high in the air, squeezed it. The control device shattered, and with this, the blonde woman fell slowly on the back, hitting the floor so powerfully so that the opening part of ther control panel fell off. Greg ran after Duchess to the room, to see all the robos lying down on the floor. "Great. And this will come from my pay", he thought.