Futuristic A Beginner's Guide to Owning and Operating an Android

[Debacle]

"Can you please not embarrass me?" Nova muttered after slowing her pace and waiting for the inebriated Taurus to catch up. He was teetering all over the place, a Weeble given human form. When he staggered into a table and nearly knocked a woman's cocktail into the lap of her attractive gigolo, Nova grabbed onto him.

"Sorry," she said to the pair. "Few too many apple martinis tonight."

Nova ducked under Taurus's good arm so that it rested on her shoulders and slid her arm around the back of his waist, holding him steady. A perceptive hooker opened the door for them and Nova gave a nod of thanks. The cool night air hit then hard. The air was choked with exhaust and probably (definitely) some carcinogenic vapors, but it felt cool and refreshing nonetheless.

She pulled up gps and mapped the short route, pulling them to the right. Georgette's apartment was a shoebox a couple blocks down, situated above a sandwich shop and sandwiched between a mall and a multi-level pot-shop. "This way," she said, nodding in their direction. For a few moments, there was silence. Then, "I bet you didn't think you'd end up here after pulling me out of a dumpster, huh?"

 

[Sephus]

Stepping out of the brothel was nothing more than an obscure blur. Nova kept him upright and walking in the right direction.

"Nn-nn" He shook his head in response. He winced as he pushed down a dry-heave. The night air was refreshing, but his stomach churned with every step.

The sound of his shoes echoed off the walls, while distant techno-synth could be heard in the distance. The music grew quieter the further they walked, but the alley dirtier and the vagrants more numerous. "I think I'm gonna be si--" Taurus pushed away from Nova and almost fell into a wall. He caught himself with his forearm before graffiting the building side with his stomach contents. He paused for a few, foolishly hoping the ordeal was over, before hurling out more digestive acids.

After a few deep breaths and a wipe with the back of his hand, Taurus straightened his back. He was still buzzed, but with a newfound clarity and a lot less nausea. He turned back to Nova and hiccuped. His mouth tasted terrible.. he just wanted to get to the lovely Georgette's place. He staggered at first, but began to walk at a more brisk pace once his balance slowly came back to him.

"I bet you didn't expect an alcoholic junkie to become your partner in crime, did ya?" he glanced at her as he asked then returned his gaze forward. Up ahead, there was a small recess between buildings where a lit barrel was surrounded by a few homeless individuals. A few stared at the duo apprehensively before returning to their hand-warming once they realized they were of no interest.

"Do we have a plan? For tomorrow? Are we going to look for Toshi? Maybe get my apartment back? I got a huge down payment locked with that... The cash would do us good. I think. If we can sell it. That's how it works right?"

 

[Debacle]

Why was this guy thinking in terms of 'we'? Was it all the blood loss? If she'd been in his shoes, she'd have gotten her ass as far away as possible. But here he was, not even resentful that she was dragging him around the city. Not cursing her out for putting his life in danger.

He was probably just an idiot. This wasn't because he was a good person--clearly he wasn't. Taurus lacked in... well, everything. The fact that he was looking out for her welfare just proved he even lacked common sense.

"A plan?" she asked. Of course she didn't have a plan. Not a good one, anyway. Nova raised the arm that wasn't holding the cooler and massaged the bridge of her nose. "I need to ask around, find out what happened to Toshi." She got a little quieter. "Find out if he's even alive. And if he's not... Then I guess I need to find Boss and kill him."

Easier said than done.

They reached Georgette's building. A hallway off to the side of the sandwich shop led to a small corridor. On one side, mailboxes, and at the end, an elevator that looked reasonably trustworthy. Nova was glad to see George could afford a place of her own that wasn't in the ghetto. They clambered into the elevator together and Nova punched the button for the seventh floor. They rose in silence. When the elevator stopped, they got out, and Nova led the way to their temporary hideout. George had left a light on inside, which either meant she was smart enough to make it look occupied at all times, or they were about to give someone a big surprise.

She keyed in the code and pushed the door open, then listened.

Nothing. The most she could hear with her heightened sense of hearing was sounds from the neighbors. On one side, they were watching the screen. On the other, someone was cooking onions and sausage and two people were having a conversation.

"It's safe."

Nova reached in, feeling for the light switch. The light in the main room flooded the room in light. It was a little one-room flat, with a bed smooshed on one side, the tiny kitchenette on the other. Still, it was more than an android needed. The door to the bathroom was open, the light on.

She lifted one bare foot and looked at the bottom of it; black with filth. Nova made a face, then knelt in the entrance of Georgette's apartment. She set the cooler down just inside the door. "Shut that after me, would ya?" she asked, crawling forward. She wasn't going to get city filth all over her friend's floors, even if that meant crawling to the bathroom.

 

[Sephus]

​

"Aniki!" A bald, pear-shaped junior came barreling into the room with a Wakaishu (foot soldier) helplessly hanging onto his coattails.

Hayato was sitting cross-legged in a leather club chair, leisurely taking a drag from his cigarette, his hand covering his mouth. His right hand man Ryo stood behind Hayato with his hands clasped behind his back. The fat, bald Yakuza tripped and fell onto the plush blue carpeting, "Aniki... Where is Boss?"

Hayato stared past his nose at the intruding Yakuza. His cigarette loomed a hair from his face, "Boss is not here. Any urgent news can be conveyed through me" wisps of smoke swirled from his mouth as he spoke.

The sweating, overweight soldier gathered himself and knelt respectfully before Hayato. He bowed his head before speaking, "Suzuki and Ito were murdered in an apartment close to the gambling den". The foot soldier behind the kneeling Yakuza stood and bowed before leaving the room, closing the meeting room's door behind him.

Hayato took another drag before leaning forward and putting out the cigarette in a polished ash tray. He pulled a silver cigarette case from his coat's breast pocket, and pulled out another. Ryo promptly lit it before returning to his position.

"What's your name?"

"Fujita" he answered, bowing his head to Hayato.

"What were they doing there?"

"Retrieving Toshi's android" Fujita kept his eyes down.

"So the android killed them?"

"That's what we can gather. The police showed up so we had to bail" Fujita swallowed before continuing, "Suzuki was most likely killed inside the apartment, and we found Ito executed in the alley".

"Most likely? Suzuki may still be alive?"

"No Aniki. Biometric monitoring for both showed they're both dead".

"Did you retrieve anything from their bodies? Evidence? Weapons?"

Fujita shook his sweat covered head; droplets dripped down his face and stung his eyes. Hayato sighed impatiently as a heavy silence ensued.

"You may go Fujita" There was a curtness in Hayato's voice.

Fujita brought his head to the floor in a form of prostration, "Aniki! We do have a lead. The androids tracking device led us to an inn called Grand Hotel. We have the hotel's manager".

"Ho..." Hayato took a final puff before standing and straightening his lapels. "I would like to meet this manager".

***​

Taurus took a seat on the floor against Georgette's bed. The place was a little much for a robot. He was under the impression droids only needed an outlet and at most a closet of space. A kitchen for a droid? Maybe she brought clients home? The decor said otherwise: it was simplistic and uncluttered, but lacked any real sense of sensuality and seduction. He watched Nova's backside through the open bathroom door. There were your usual feminine hygiene products as well as a few maintenance items like a wrench and a screwdriver placed in a cup alongside a pink toothbrush.

He leaned his head over and smelled himself. He needed a shower. He turned to his bandaged shoulder and undid a few ties, before unraveling the gauze revealing a shoulder covered in uneven scar tissue. The pellets had burst his shoulder and what was left was a craggy mess of skin. If he tried really hard, his finger would twitch, but aside from that: unresponsive. He ran his fingers over his shoulder expecting to feel some pain akin to what he felt after being shot, but to his relief, it was just numb skin and flesh. He ran his hand down the arm: he could feel pressure but nothing more than that.

He ground his teeth. He stood at a moral crossroad. Aside from some standardized precinct cerebral enhancements, Taurus was a largely unchanged human. He even refused retinal displays and implants. But if he wanted to be of any use, he would need to either fix or replace his arm. The latter sounded a lot more feasible with all the illegal chop shops and mom & pop limb clinics that were scattered all over the city. He took out his black book, placing it on the ground between his legs. He used his hand to flip through the pages until he finally found a name and dog-eared the page.

 

[Debacle]

She crawled on her hands and knees to the bathroom, rising to her tip-toes at the sink to lift one foot under the running water, then the other. The filth of the city streets washed away down Georgette's plumbing. When she finished, Nova leaned over the sink, looking down at the still running stream of liquid. What the hell was she doing? She didn't have a plan--not anything beyond 'don't get caught', anyway.

She glanced over her shoulder at Taurus, who was sitting on the floor by Georgette's bed. She wondered about the rather human apartment. Had some sugar-daddy bought it for her so he'd have easy access to her after hours? Nova had a feeling she could open the pantry and find out. If a man was coming here, Georgette would stock the place with food. If it was simply what she preferred, the kitchen would probably just be storage space for clothes or magazines or piles of cash--whatever George was into these days.

Nova splashed water on her face and turned the tap off, wet fingers streaking through her chestnut hair.

"Alright, cowboy," she called over her shoulder. "Strip. You smell like ass."

She strode back to the main room, no wiggle in her walk--just efficiency. "After you're good and naked, I'll hook you up to one of those blood packs. Then, you and me need to have a little talk."

He looked pale, thought Nova, like he'd gone through the wringer a couple times. Of course, he largely had himself to blame for that. She was a magnet for trouble; that, she could admit. But Taurus willfully invited it into his life, leaning into the punches life gave him. His penchant for drugs and alcohol didn't help either. The man was beginning to feel like a liability--a liability she needed to rid herself of.

 

[Sephus]

Nova's efforts to keep the floor clean amused him as she crawled across Georgette's floors. He had only noticed the dirty foot prints he was leaving about halfway through the suite, where his shoes lay haphazardly by the bathroom door. He leaned against the bed behind him and glanced over his shoulder at it: perfectly made like it had never been slept on, yet there it was, looking more inviting than ever. He looked back down at the small black book and closed it, sliding it under the bed.

He heard Nova's request and he complied. Standing up was almost dangerous. The ground seemed to move under his feet and he fell back onto the bed. He unbuttoned his short and pulled it off. His stomach folded into rolls but abs were still evident; he didn't have to give up drinking and fast foods quite yet. He stood up again, more slowly this time, and unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor with a clink. Would nudity offend a bot? He dropped his boxers and sat on the edge of the bed. Being nude was strangely freeing, as if he had no more to hide from his robotic savior. His clothes did smell, so he threw his shirt and kicked his pants to the corner of the room.

He watched Nova approach the bed. Was sex appeal no programmed into her? He watched quietly as she procured a blood and an IV bag. She set them them on the bed and he held out his forearm to her. He could smell his own BO, but could she smell it? Of course she could, she had senses several times more sensitive than his. He barely felt the pinpricks of the needles. Nova had him sit on the floor again.

"You wanted to talk?" He asked as the fluids slowly seeped into his body.