“Ok,” I said after a minute of awkward silence. “How are we getting to that airport then? I’m not sure exactly how far a klick is but I’m pretty confident that twelve of them is more than I’m going to be walking in a day.”
“A click is the same as a kilometer,” said Aphrodyke. I stared at her blankly. “You know what a kilometer is. Km? The other number on your speedometer below MPH? Fucking American educational system. I’m staring at a Child Left Behind. Anyway, converted to miles, the airport is about seven and a half. No more than a few hours’ hike.”
“I can’t walk that far. I get winded walking up the stairs to my apartment. I’m not sure if you’ve realized, but I am a heavy drug user who spends most of his time on the computer. The only reason I’m not 300 lbs is because of that enzyme the government puts in the water so that we aren’t the fattest country anymore.”
“Well we need to get to the airport. If you don’t walk Ada will carry you like it’s your honeymoon.”
* * *
We arrived at the airport, Ada carrying me like it was our honeymoon. Though her skin felt real, something was off about her body. Maybe it was because she didn’t sweat after carrying me so far, or because her skin was always an exact 98.6 degrees regardless of any effort she put in or any environmental changes.
Aphrodyke, however, was slightly flushed from the effort, and a thin film of sweat had built up on her forehead. I was starting to get another damnable erection, and I was not pleased at my body for its choice in women. Ada was literally the perfect beauty, designed to be exactly what people like me should want. Plus my elbow had been rubbing against her ample tit for the last few miles. Yet for some reason my dick was pointing the way of the gruff, condescending lesbo who quite literally wouldn’t get with me if I were the last man on earth. I tried to think about something that would make it go away before someone noticed. It didn’t work.
“You’re sick,” Aphrodyke said, eyeing my bulge. “You know, technically she’s only a day old, you technophilic pedo.”
“I think it’s cute,” said Ada. “The shortness of breath, the slight flush of the skin. Don’t worry, honey, maybe we can join the mile high club.” She winked at me.
“Put me down,” I said. “I’m walking now. You two have no decency. A man is entitled to have his boners ignored by his peers. It’s the entire basis of human society!”
“I’m not human,” said Ada.
“I’m a reclusive dyke,” said Aphrodyke.
“Fuck you both,” I said. “So how are we getting in here?” I asked.
“We will pull some magazines out of the trash so it looks like we are scanning our passports on the way in,” Ada explained. “Of course I will be telling the scanners that we are someone else. Once we get to the metal detectors I will kindly request of them not to beep, and I’ll recycle some footage from the people in front of us to show the guy watching the monitors.”
“Why do we need to hack the metal detectors? I have no metal,” I said.
“I still have my sidearm,” said Aphrodyke. “And if we are overriding a civilian plane and a military ocean vessel to gain entry into another nation and outrun that nation’s elite government agents, I intend to keep it.”
“Plus I’m a robot,” said Ada.
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s go walk past hundreds of federal agents so we can terrorize a handful of tourists and businessmen, steal a boat from trained military personnel, and gain entry into a country with a government so secret that its people think it doesn’t even exist so we can beat them to the number one guy on their Most Wanted list. Sounds like an afternoon of fun for the whole family.”
Ada and Aphrodyke simply nodded.
* * *
I was pretty nervous holding an article about the rampant Batboy mutation that was spreading through Taiwan, ripped from the latest Weekly World News issue up to the passport scanner, but it had worked for the other two. “Welcome, Plain Jane, and congrats on the Emmy,” the machine had said to Ada. “Welcome, Anita Skerwald, and congrats on the Nobel,” it had said to Aphrodyke. I held my breath as I pretended to scan the paper. “Welcome, Kim Jong Un, and congrats on your retirement,” the machine told me. I rolled my eyes at Ada.
“Way to keep it subtle,” I told her under my breath. “And I didn’t know you were a Plain Jane fan?”
“Her standard time signature and predictable key changes are aesthetically pleasing to a mind constructed of pure logic like my own,” she answered. “Plus her lyrics are like, so deep. They like, speak to me on a spiritual level.”
“And she’s hot,” added Aphrodyke.
“Maybe you and I have more in common than I thought,” I said, bumping her with my elbow. I thought she was going to make some comment about the male gaze or some shit, but instead she just smiled and nudged me back.
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