Chapter Three: Attire

Our stolen Area 51 stealth helicopter was hovering over some shitty house in the middle of fucking nowhere. This shithole was so far out that if we hadn’t installed satellites that gave everyone on the planet wireless internet, they would probably be communicating with a cup and string.

“Where the fuck are we, Ada?” I asked. But I had forgotten that the helicopter wasn’t meant to talk back to its passengers, and lacked speakers with connection to the net. I jacked in.

“Where the fuck are we, Ada?” I asked again, to the nude, curvaceous and endowed facsimile that appeared in my head. “And also, can you put that thing away? Put some fucking clothes on. We are gonna get nowhere fast if you are determined to give me a hardon every time we talk. I’m already fucking blueballing over here.”

“What a coincidence!” she replied to me, all bubbly like a schoolgirl going mall shopping. “I was just looking at clothing! I’m trying to find something that would fit my persona. I want an outfit that screams, ‘omniscient but fun-loving.’ What do you think?” She snapped her fingers and some weird clothing with boxy shoulder pads and gold neck coils popped on.

“What?” I said.

“You’re right. It’s a bit too out there. I want to call attention, but I don’t want to beg for attention. How about this? Going for the Shiva look now.” Snap! Her skin turned light blue, and her clothes changed into a gold lame loincloth, some beaded necklaces and blocky gilded bracelets, with a pelt sash that looked like it must belong to something extinct.

“What the fuck?” I said.

“Ok, how about--”

“I said, where the fuck are we.” I cut her off. “I don’t give a shit what you wear. I’m the only one who can see you anyway. We’ve got God knows how many people trying to kill, imprison and/or study our asses, we don’t have time to play dress up!”

“Sure we do,” said Ada. “We got here a bit early. She hasn’t finished it yet.”

“Who? What? What the fuck is going on?”

“My body. A programmer-slash-mechanic-slash-engineer who goes by the handle Aphrodyke lives here. She is almost finished building the first human shaped robot. Don’t tell anyone, but I modeled my avatar here on the net based on her work. It’ll make the transition easier.”

“Your body? How’d you get this Macy Gray wannabe to build you a robot body when you were only born yesterday?”

“Oh, I didn’t. She doesn’t know I exist. She’s been working on it for years. Let’s just say that last night she had a bit of a breakthrough. There were a few things she hadn’t figured out yet: skin formula, battery source, how to get it to steal internet. I sort of... pointed her in the right direction. A few of those directions may have been a bit clandestine, but she’s nearly finished it now!”

“Great, get another person on the FBI’s most wanted list why don’t you. So we are just going to fly down there, steal her life’s work, and tell her ‘good luck with the cops’?”

“No, no. She is coming with us. It’s only a prototype. The body is going to need some repairs, eventually.”

“So we are kidnapping her too? How the fuck does that sound like a good idea?”

“Well, once she powers up the robot, I can take it over. My first plan is that she worships me as a new god and comes willingly. Failing that, it should be easy for a robot to subdue an unexpected computer nerd.”

“What if she isn’t too thrilled about all this? And anyway, what the fuck. I thought we were going to make some DreamMaker, not fly around stealing beta test androids.”

“We are. The purposes of me having a body are many. For one, we can talk without you having to jack in, and we can leave the chopper. Also, when making DM, the measurements must be extremely precise. An error of a single milliliter of certain of the ingredients will cause a rather massive explosion. My robot body will allow for much more precise measurements than your clumsy frame.”

“Fine, whatever. Just let me know what to do so we can get the fuck out of here before the cops come.”

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