Set font to something comparable to Courier New 10 to keep it down to one screen width... and Enjoy.
This one isn't finished... might not get to that state...
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Because I have nothing better to do Productions
An Eldrick Tobin project
From "It makes sense in my head" Theater
An unoriginal story
The Paradox of Memory
Is the beginning really the place to start? Afterall not everything HAS a
beginning. Perhaps a better place to start is where things go awry.
Take this simple street on this moonbase... everything looks as it should. It's
beginning was long ago. Everyone around looks as they should. For them the
beginning was long long ago.
But someone looks out of place. She stands some five feet and five inches.
Nothing out of place there. She is dressed as if she cleans houses for a
living... moving from house to house doing chores.
A Maid.
It's certainly also the norm for her to not be human. She is an Android. Not as
perfect in human appearance replication as some models, but does everythign have
to look like it should have a navel? An interesting question when one takes into
account the fact many of the people walking near her... weren't naturally born.
Some their parents wanted someone more unique than any other kid on the block. A
Few were made for special purposes... that guy for example can breathe methane
and that's not the half of it. A very very small number were made by
corporations. To be mascots... or the next big star... whatever the bottom line
is.
So what's so special about this single android? Well her case is interesting.
All androids with few exceptions have a basic programming model. It's usually
tried and true and mass produced. They know who and what they are... and if
there's a glitch their new possessor for the moment has the soft- and hardware
to quickly power them down and fix them -if they need to power them down.
But with this one... well... listen for yourself...
The androidal girl sighs again then quickly approaches the next person. Hope and
despair war on her expression -or at least if you know what signs to look for
you can interpret that properly,"Excuse me ma'am. Do you know me? I think my
memories have been tampered with."
"I'm no technitian and I do not know you. Try someone else."
"Thank you for your time," another sigh escapes as the words finish. She walks
back to a spot... she seems to act like she's returned home. However it couldn't
be... it's almost in the middle of the street. Fortunately for her no ground
craft are allowed on this avenue. This also means she wasn't just injured.
Squatting down she studies the ground. She appears to be looking for some sign.
Some sign perhaps of her previous life? A master who maybe only walked into a
shop perhaps. Heck she might well even settle for EMP residue in the deckplates.
"Wow a Silvia 18! Only people with money can afford one!" says a voice behind
her. "I'd love to meet your owner! Must be someone with taste!!"
She turns,"I am Silvia?"
"Err well not quite," says the uniformed man in his late twenties,"It's just
your make... hey wait... why didn't you know that?" the policeman scratches his
head.
"I did not know. I do not know who I am. I do not know of any owner. I am
assuming my memories were tampered with. I can only move and speak."
"That's... all?"
"Yes. I think I only possess mobility and language programming. Due to someone
calling me crazy I infer that perhaps my memories were tampered with."
"That's a big leap."
"Why? I came online on thsi very spot. Either I am a blank, or I have been
tampered with. Regardless of the option taken foul play would probably have to
be involved."
Officer Nelson -by his badge- sighs,"Stand still lemme look you over before I
call this in," walking around her he makes note of every feature.. nothing is
out of place,"Have you checked your pockets?"
"Pockets?"
He blinks,"Yeah your pockets." She gives him an inquisitive look,"There and
there. You have two."
"I did not think they were for storage," she says smoothing down the
maidskirt,"Should I search them now?"
"Please do Miss."
She began pulling up on the hem of her skirt. He grabbed her hands in panic, and
found her ignoring his attempt at stopping her. He began struggling. He might as
well have been trying to rip open a hole in space time for all his
effectiveness.
"Hey stop! We're in public Miss!"
Stopping and looking up she says,"But you told me to search them now."
"Now I'm certain you don't have proper usage or moral subroutines. When I said
pockets I did NOT mean... uh... reproductive or... your evacuative systems. I
meant the storage areas on your clothes."
"Clothes?"
He smacked his face,"Only Communicative Language routines... oh man. Damn
this'll be tough."
"What will? You must speak clearer to me if indeed you are talking to me."
"Just... uh... talking out loud," he sighs,"Alright follow me to the precinct
where I can look through your outfit and give you a proper scan for your barcode
and other information."
Nodding she follows quietly... trying to figure out where these 'pockets' are.
AT THE PRECINT
"Hey Nelson... picking up strays now?" jokes the desk Sergant.
"Naw... potential cruelty case. Memory tampering."
"Did you shoot them?"
"Found her alone."
"You get a clue you tell me. I'll make them into ratbait."
"Will do... but... won't that make sure you stay behind a desk forever?"
"It'll be worth it to turn a mangler into fine red mist," teeth clenched the
desk clerk resumes his seat. "I'll buzz you in."
"Thanks Bartlett."
IN INTEROGATION
"Sorry to bring you back here... but I can't enter the ladies washroom and you
can't enter the men's room."
"Why not?"
"Pardon?" he asks while blushing.
"We just walked by them right?"
"Yep."
"They seemed to have simple push open mechanisms. Anyone should be able to enter
them."
Face sinking he mutters,"Oh certainly no moral subroutines here. Take my word
for it. Females don't go into the men's room and men never go into the ladies'
room."
"Data recorded."
"Right... anyway... there is a bench in the back. Take your outer garment off
and put it there then sit in the chair behind the screen."
"Why?"
"Which?"
"To the part about the... chair. Why do I need to sit down?"
"That's the scanner. When you sit down I'll be able to give you a full
exhaustive scan."
"It will tire me?"
"Oh No... I mean it will exhaust all known scanning algorhitms to come up with a
full report on you. No stone will be left unturned."
"I thought I was made of metal not stone."
"It's a figure of speech."
"How can you examine my figure with only speech?"
"Just do it. Alright?"
"Acknowledged. Fulfilling tasks as ordered."
"It wasn't an order."
"I can't choose not to can I? You are the Police. Therefore it is a polite
suggestion bordering on an order," she had the stuff called clothes off, and on
the floor.
"Um..." his breathing raggedly made him stop,"Put your clothing on the bench
remember?"
"I was making sure I was wearing no other items."
"You... aren't. Trust me. You are very naked."
"I will take your word for it," bending over to get her clothing she gives him a
full view of all her female attributes, causing him to ... faint.
The fallen officer began moaning about his head. Another officer entered. She
walks over to officer Nelson and kneels by him,"You two don't have clearance for
this. I mean really sex in the interrogation chamber."
The RoboMaid cants her head,"Sex? What is that? I was simply acquiring my
garments... which he called clothes for some reason... to put them on the bench
and sit on the chair behind the screen over there. I do not know why he
fainted."
"I have an idea. Anyway go sit behind the screen."
"What is this idea?"
"Sit behind the screen."
"Why do you not answer?"
"I'll tell you when you sit down... not there behind the screen on the chair."
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