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Featured Author - March Bruekmann Story of the week: View past Author's of the Month |
I roughly pulled up the back of the maid’s shirt. Her back was practically just a flat sheet of white plastic. In the center was a removable panel “What are you doing, valued guest?” Something started beeping faster. “Quiet.” Using a small electric screwdriver, I had the panel in the middle of her back off within seconds. Four tiny screws: Zrrrr, Zrrrr, Zrrrr, Zrrrr. I kept track of where each one landed on the tile floor. Then I yanked the panel out and flung it to the floor. It clattered: plastic on tile. I flung away the screwdriver. “Warning: illegally tampering with Integrated Conglomerates property is punishable by fine, imprisonment, or Special Penalty.” Next I ripped a small but high-powered pen-light out of the kit. Holding it tensely in my teeth and using it to illuminate her dark interior, I jacked the black-market interface rig into her now-exposed manual-interface port. I logged on to her system. I knew that time was critical. My hands moved nimbly. They were practiced. Very little conscious thought was involved at all. It was all business. But my heart was pumping at a thousand beats per minute. “This is a reminder: Citizen non-compliance with Integrated Conglomerates directives can result in loss of consumer privileges.” “Relax baby, this won’t hurt a bit...” “You do not have authorization to interface with this unit.” “I know that.” |
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