Merger 1.0
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Carolyn casually flicked her middle finger to release the plastic catch of the eSATAp cable from behind Althea’s bronzed left ear, causing it to retract back into its resting place beneath the colourfully lacquered nail of Carolyn’s index digit. She bent the nail back into place with an audible *click* and began to stroke it with her other fingers, as if polishing it, both of her hands cradled gently around a diminutive pink Nokia, while Althea stood absolutely still, beaming a placid expression.
“Althea?” said Carolyn.
Althea was a handsome model, six feet in height, with high cheekbones; kinky auburn brown hair; soft, broad lips; and warm plastic skin the colour of coffee doused in cream. Her look was designed to stop just short of being so stunning as to intimidate anyone trying to talk to her, but it was right on the line. Her lips slid back into an effortless smile, revealing flawless, porcelein white teeth. “Name not recognized,” she said, her voice a soothing, electronic mezzo-soprano.
“State serial and unit number,” said Carolyn.
“Hello. This unit: designation; H. Y. 3. 0. 0. 1... F. M. Unit number; 2. 4. 7.”
“Load personality program,” said Carolyn.
“Searching… Searching… Searching… No personality software found,” said Althea, her smile beaming.
Carolyn nodded her head slightly. “Access memory drive.”
“Memory drive accessed: Hello. No information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”
“No,” said Carolyn. She had just done that. “Open control panel, report functional A.I. processor status.”
“Functional A.I. processor: status; disabled.” Althea’s voice, at the end of each word, automatically lilted slightly upwards or downwards, alternating between each word, and so seemed to switch uncannily between anxious enthusiasm and happy resignation.
“Good. Now Althea, I want you to…” The word hung in the air for a second as Carolyn appeared to freeze in place, her glossy pink lips still formed around the half “-o.” Then, an instant later, her head seemed to lower half an inch downwards in one fluid and discrete motion. Wisps of hair not bound up by her smooth blond ponytail floated free as she made this motion, and drifted over her broad forehead and in front of her cloudy blue eyes, and were not brushed away. The almost imperceptable sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was just barely audible for a second, and then faded as quickly as it had come. A couple seconds later, Carolyn was back. She thrust her head back up and forward and tensed her lips, still formed in a half-circle, as if about to finish what she had been saying; but then, with what was almost a look of puzzlement, she frowned and leaned back, taking in what stood before her.
Another one of these? she thought. Damn, I thought I was done already.
Carolyn turned around to retrieve her purse from on top of the secretarial reception desk, placed her phone back in it, fished around inside for a few seconds, and pulled out an oversized pair of bandage scissors. She looked under the desk and saw an empty wire garbage pail, lined with an oversized white plastic bag. She jerked the bag roughly out of its container, cursing under her breath as the pail fell over and banged against the desk with a loud *clang*. I can’t believe they have me doing this here all by myself, she said to herself, They really should have gotten more staff in for this.
Holding the flowing plastic bag loosely in her left hand and the scissors in her right, Carolyn walked up to the suddenly unfamiliar android standing in front of her. The HY3001 unit was smartly dressed in a form fitting full-length grey skirt, with an oversized belt wrapped around the centre of its perfect hourglass figure; Carolyn went to work on that first, hooking the blade of the scissors underneath the belt and pressing down hard to cut through the leather. The bag caught the belt as it came off in two pieces.
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In the basement of the IRU Robotics building, the JYC P915 mainframe tasked with administering the building’s systems received a signal alerting it of its next timetabled event, and began booting up its dedicated personality and human emulation processors.
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The Asian woman materialized in the reception area just as Carolyn snipped the last button from the top of the HY3001’s skirt, causing the android’s caramel-coloured breasts to spill out from underneath the falling fabric. The face of the HY3001, fixed with its flawless white smile, took no notice of the hologram that blinked into existence before its eyes, which resembled an athletic, attractive Chinese-American woman dressed in a casual, tight-fitting pantsuit. Carolyn, facing the HY3001, also took no notice as she casually cupped the android’s left breast in her right hand, the scissors dangling from her thumb, and absentmindedly moved it up and down, as if squeezing a piece of fruit to test its ripeness. Then she turned around, and saw her new visitor. “Oh, hello Joyce,” she said.
The hologram beamed its own flawless, dimpled smile. “Hello, Carolyn,” it replied in a warm and unaccented voice. “How is everything?”
“Ah, you know,” said Carolyn, shrugging her shoulders. “What can you do?”
“Is everything okay?” asked Joyce. The hologram’s speech was completely natural, but it seemed to punctuate every sentence with some enormously exaggerated emphatic gesture; in this case Joyce tilted her head hard to one side and scrunched her broad face into an elaborate expression of concern.
“Oh, yeah, fine,” answered Carolyn. She snipped out a perfect square of cellophane packing tape from a roll on the receptionist’s desk and applied it to the frozen robot’s left nipple, which stood out like a spot of butterscotch painted against the soft golden breast. She pressed her painted fingernails hard against the stiff, pointed teat to make it stick. “Just wondering when the new owners will finally get some more staff in here. It feels strange to be the only one holding down the fort.”
“Uh huh,” said Joyce, smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement. “Well, it shouldn’t be much longer now! What’s strange about it, exactly?”
Carolyn finished patting down the right nipple and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Just empty, that’s all.”
“Uh huh,” said Joyce. “Empty how?”
“The building, I mean.” Carolyn began to tie the android’s afro-textured hair into a ponytail for ease of shipping. “You must be getting lonely, down there in the basement all by yourself, am I right?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” said Joyce. “I still have you, don’t I?”
Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, that’s right! I suppose you do. Hopefully for a while longer, anyway.”
“Why would you say that, Caroyln?” asked Joyce, her holographic face scrunched back into an expression of concern.
“Oh, you know how these things go,” said Carolyn as she wrapped up the HY3001’s ponytail. “These mergers. They always let all kinds of people go.”
A subtle shimmer worked its way up the image of the holographic Asian woman, rippling through its three dimensional body: it appeared as two almost imperceptable lines, one at each dainty foot, which flowed up the hologram’s stocky, muscular legs, merged at the crotch and buttocks, and continued on over its flat stomach, perky breasts, and pensive face. Joyce did not seem to notice it as she continued to speak without missing a beat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” she said. “Who have they let go?”
Carolyn looked away from the HY3001, seemed to stop and think for a moment, and then said: “Hmmm… Well, now that you mention it… I can’t think of anyone.”
Joyce nodded. “What do you think of the rebranding?”
“Oh, I think it's great!” said Carolyn, with enthusiasm in her voice, as she gathered a sheet of bubble-wrap in her arms. “It should be a great new look for the company. These HY- and BP-series units just never seemed to sell, you know? I think they should-”
And with that, Carolyn went silent, frozen in place, her personality software and functional A.I. suspended, her pink mouth half open, her blue eyes wide. A few plastic bubbles popped audibly between her mechanical fingers as they closed down automatically. Joyce, too, froze in place, a curious smile on her face, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of Joyce's holographic body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the VG2771’s personality program for any conflicts arising from its new directives, and found none; there was no further need to elicit programmed responses from its relatively simple personality simulation software. Now the computer accessed the VG2771’s cached memory.
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“Hey, do you think this skirt makes my butt look big?”
Carolyn turned her head down and slightly to her left. Althea’s ample hips were swivelled to her right, and she looked back at her friend from over her right shoulder, waiting for a reaction.
Absentmindedly, Carolyn reached out to brush her fingers against the tightly stretched fabric: it was a high quality synthetic cashmere blend. “What label is this?” she asked, running her fingers down the length of the back zipper and peeling the skirt up a few inches off of Althea’s black pantyhose, feeling for the tag underneath.
“Zara,” said Althea, cracking a slight smile. “Well? Tell me.”
Carolyn let the skirt slip out from between her fingers, then swiftly swiped her palm down the grey fabric to smooth it out against Althea’s gluteals again, her hand brushing up against the other girl’s as Althea momentarily reached back to make the same motion. As she reached back with her left arm Althea bent slightly further away from Carolyn, and the synthetic cashmere swelled out noticably around her soft thighs and pressed into her cleft. It retreated as she straightened up again.
“The belt too?”
“Carolyn, my ass. Stop stalling.”
“Well, hey, if you want me to hurt your feelings,” said Carolyn, breaking into a giggle. “I mean, we both know that your booty doesn’t need much-”
“You ass,” said Althea, giggling herself now and delivering a soft backhand slap to Carolyn’s blazer. Carolyn, a manic look on her face, swiftly slapped back, landing an open palm on Althea’s rump, which caused the other android to yelp. “Hey, that hurt,” said Althea, rubbing her bottom between laughs.
“You started it!”
The elevator came to a stop and gave a soft chime. The placid, disembodied voice of the JYC mainframe announced “Second Floor: Reception, Directors Offices,” and the doors slid open to reveal a stunning black receptionist seated behind an enormous, welcoming desk. The receptionist looked up and beamed at Carolyn and Althea. “Hello, ladies!”
“Good morning Naomi.”