Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Femella Ex Machina

   Part Two

   By Aerosol Kid :: aerosol_kid@hotmail.com Visit me at
/~AK_Home

   The people and events in this story come from my brain, not the real
world.  Regardless of what that tells you about my brain, it means that I'm
not writing about you, your mom, your friends, or your friends' friends. 
So you can't sue me.  Neener neener.

   If you're underage in your territory (and you know what I mean), then
read something else, please.  If you're easily offended by sexually
explicit fetish content, may I suggest reading something else?  If you're
easily offended by sexual content and are determined to help yourself to a
dash of moral outrage, I put it to you this way: you have too much time on
your hands.

   (c) 2003 by Aerosol Kid.  Protected under the Berne Convention.  Yes, my
erotica is protected by copyright law.

   ___________________________________

   "You should sleep," Amy observed.

   Reluctantly, I stopped gazing into her big brown eyes and rubbed my own.
"Maybe later." I don't like going to bed at sunrise, and I wasn't going to
leave her unattended.

   "I'll be better soon."

   I still wasn't used to the idea of mechanical people walking among us.
And I felt that it should take more than a nap to cure her of being
tortured and shot.  It was playing hell with my nerves and I wanted some
answers.  "Amy, I think I need for you to tell me what this is all about."

   "No you don't," she teased softly.  "Sleep first.  I'll keep watch."

   "You can't even get out of that bed."

   "But I'll know if something happens.  Lie down with me.  I'll wake you
if anything does."

   The bed looked very comfortable.  As sunlight crept into the room, my
eyelids got heavier and heavier.  "And how would you know that?"

   Her voice dipped down as low as it could go; a mock attempt at
intimidation.  "Please shut your question hole, Mister McCoy.  Lie down."
Her head dipped to her shoulder in invitation.

   *A nap wouldn't be so bad...* I crept onto the twin bed, across her
legs, to the side closest the wall.  Tentatively, I rested my head on her
arm.  The lab coat in which she was still wrapped smelled pretty funky, but
underneath she was soft and warm.  Not at all mechanical.  She touched her
head to mine, her sweet-smelling hair tickling my forehead.

   And I was out.

   ***

   My dreams tend to get weird when I'm really tired.  This one was way too
vivid.

   *I'm standing in some gigantic arboretum, in some futuristic deco city
that I feel like I've been to before.  Amy's there, dressed as a flight
attendant for KLM Airlines.  She's trying to kiss me, but I unbutton her
blouse and her chest swings open.  There's a cell phone perched on a little
stand inside her, and I use it to make a call while she pouts like a child.
Then I have this long, unpleasant conversation with an ex-girlfriend I
haven't actually seen in years.  The ex is furious that I'm with Amy. 
Amy's furious that I'm using her phone to call my ex.  I'm generally
uncomfortable.*

   *"Honestly Will," Amy says at one point, holding up the hem of her skirt
for me to see.  "This is silly.  You need to wake up."*

   *I hold up a finger to indicate that I'm trying to get off the phone. 
My ex continues to scold.*

   *"She isn't real," Amy says.  "Deal with your emotional baggage later. I
said I'd wake you if something happened..."*

   I sat up, squinting in the sunlight.  She was out of bed.  Her lab coat
and tattered underwear lay on the floor, and she was busy rooting through
drawers for something to wear.  Her gait was unsteady and unnatural.  She
was favoring her left hand and she looked very serious, but she was moving.

   Just like the first night I saw her, I was captivated by her physique:
those birdlike limbs, her taut dancer's muscles, that adorable chest... 
She was thin but bore no sharp angles, just creamy curves.  And the jagged
holes from last night that had marred her otherwise unblemished brown skin
were now just pale dots.

   "Hey, you're up," I said.  "How did you get in my dream?"

   "Later.  Someone's closing in on the house."

   "Shit..." I got to my feet and looked out the window.  "I don't see-"

   "They're not here yet." She continued to open and close drawers.

   I decided to give up asking her to explain her weird abilities.  "Well
how long do we have?"

   "Maybe eight minutes," she calculated as she discovered some women's
clothes in the closet.  "Then however long it takes them to get in."

   I'd hoped it would be longer before someone caught up to us.  "How
many?"

   "I'm not sure...  I think two sedans and a van.  They've involved the
authorities somehow."

   This safe house was in a row of flats not too far from the Old Town. 
The only ways in were secretly, heavily fortified, but I had no doubt our
visitors could gain entrance.  What they didn't know was there was a car
below the flat, in a secret tunnel that emerged two blocks away.  It was
time to go.

   Amy had found a heavy gray sweater, tight blue pants and some boots. 
But she just stood there looking uncertain.

   "Get dressed," I told her.  "I'll collect a few things and then let's
get out of here."

   She considered this.  Gave me a funny look.  "I need to do something
first," she decided, and headed toward the kitchen.

   "Quickly..."

   In a few minutes I was ready, but worried.  At some point, we needed to
have a serious, no-bullshit conversation about all this.  I wanted to be
having it now.

   "Oh my god..." Amy groaned from the kitchen, her voice thick with
something I couldn't recognize.

   My mouth fell open when I got there.  The crazy girl had a kitchen knife
in her hand, and had apparently just made a deep incision in her lower back
before losing her nerve.

   Just when she seemed to be recovering from being electrocuted, skewered
and shot, she'd gone and done this.  I felt my mouth working, while I tried
to figure out what to say.  "What the hell's going on?" was what finally
came out.

   My yelling seemed to upset her even more.  "I have to remove my
tracker!" she warbled.  "I thought I could do it myself.  You're gonna have
to help me."

   I backed away from her.  "Oh, *hell* no!"

   "Will, these people can find me anywhere unless you help me do this.  It
won't matter where we go!"

   Things were already way too weird and this wasn't helping.  "But can't
you just, uh, tell me what to do and shut yourself down?"

   "Shut up and listen!  There's no time for that.  You'd never be able to
do it yourself." Her speech was tremulous and fast.  The combination of my
reluctance, her pain and the impending arrival of people who wanted to take
her apart had caused all her patience to evaporate.

   "Okay, just wait," I protested.  There had to be a better way to do
this. Trouble was, this was the first mechanical woman I'd known, so I
couldn't think what that way might be.

   "You have to help me right now!"

   I was still very hesitant to get close to her.  It had a lot to do with
the knife she was waving around while she yelled at me.  Realizing this,
she put it down and turned her bare back to me.

   "All right..." I told her.  Before I could think too hard about it, I
slipped the fingers of my right hand inside her and tried in vain to ignore
what I felt.  Heat.  Slippery wetness.  Hard things and rubbery things.

   "Lower," she instructed, panting through clenched teeth.  Then she
bucked against my fingers.  "Oh, fuck..." She was losing it.

   I put my other hand around her waist to steady her.  "Help me out here,
hon.  I'm with you," I said, in that tone of voice you use when you're so
freaked out you become utterly calm.

   Her body remained tense, but she stopped struggling.  "To the right. 
It'll feel k-k-kind of like a marble."

   How many of the things I was touching were vital to her survival?  I was
dangerously near vomiting and she was making those bizarre sounds from the
night before again, the ones she apparently substituted for screaming at
the top of her lungs.

   Then I found something round and hard.  "Is that it?"

   "A.a.a.a.a.a.a.a.a.a.h.h.u.u.u.u.h.h.h.h.m.m.m..."

   I grabbed her arm and yelled into her ear.  "Amy, is *this it?"*

   "Yes!  Twist...  C-c-counterclockwise...  Oh Jesus it hurts, Will!"

   "I promise I'm doing my best.  It's not coming loose."

   "It's not supposed to...  Pull harder!" She was sweating profusely.  An
intense, lime-like scent pervaded the room.

   But my adrenaline did its job.  The object popped loose and I fished it
out of the incision.  She immediately collapsed onto the floor.  My hands
were sticky with slimy gel.  There were bizarre, glittery particles
suspended in it.  "Wash your hands right now," Amy warned through ragged
breaths.  I put the little piece of her on the counter, and it immediately
started to dissolve, leaving quite a scorch mark.  My fingers were burning
by the time I reached the kitchen sink.

   An alarm chimed somewhere, which meant our guests had arrived.  I
grabbed my bag and threw her clothes inside.  She was still hanging onto
the linoleum for dear life, so I hoisted her up over my shoulder and headed
for the hall closet.  Outside, there was a lot of activity.  Someone was
yelling a lot of crap I didn't understand through a bullhorn.

   Behind the doorframe of the innocuous-looking coat closet was a keypad,
into which I entered an access code.  The back wall rotated away, revealing
an elevator.  It was a tight fit for the two of us.  When I punched the
button for the basement, the closet door and false wall closed behind us
and locked.  Even if someone figured it out, they weren't going to get in
here until we were miles away.

   The lift lurched the first few feet toward the basement before the
support cables equaled out.  Over my shoulder, Amy moaned in protest.  It
smelled like centuries-old rock and machine oil down here, and it was
bitingly cold.  Florescent lights buzzed and ticked their way to life as
the lift settled and the gate slid up.  A conservative-looking sedan
awaited us, nose pointed toward a dark tunnel.

   I started to put Amy inside before noticing that she'd shut down again.
Of course, she was still completely naked, and it would a more discreet
drive through town if she weren't, so I did the best I could trying to
wrestle her clothes onto her limp form.  The pants were a chore.  There was
also the fresh gouge in her back to consider.  I tilted her lifeless body
forward and started a quick-and-dirty bandaging job - a few gauze pads and
a couple of orbits of surgical tape around her belly.  She was so
feverishly warm, yet so much like a fresh corpse.  God, it was creepy, but
getting her sweater on wasn't so hard.  Finally, I closed her eyes.

   A little out of breath from dressing my mannequin charge, I hopped into
the driver's seat and started up the car.  The engine growled as I raced
down the dim tunnel, without really knowing our next move.

   ***

   We needed a local contact - someone off the books - and eventually I
remembered Erika.  She was a spiky kid I'd dealt with while undercover two
years earlier.  She'd lived in Denmark then, but had moved on to better
things in Tallinn, luckily for Amy and me.  Over the phone, I concocted
some wild story about needing help getting out of the country.  Twenty
minutes later we pulled into the garage of her compound and her guys
quickly surrounded the car.  Amy was still shut down and I was starting to
worry.

   A familiar blond stepped out from behind the men.  "Please excuse my
assistants," Erika said as I raised my empty hands over the steering wheel.
"It's been a while, my crazy friend."

   I got out and we did the European pecks-on-each-cheek thing.  She was
openly suspicious, but friendly.  "Are we still on a tight schedule?" she
asked.

   I began to wonder how convincing I'd been all those months ago.  "I'm in
a bit of a jam, love.  Remember how you said you owed me?" I looked into
her frosty green eyes and hoped she still thought I was kind of hot.

   She looked about to soften to my implicit come-on, when one of her hired
hands spoke up.  "Oi!  Who's the dead girl?"

   Erika took in the sight of Amy's body in the passenger seat.  To my
dismay, her smile faded.  "Do you remember the movie 'Pulp Fiction'?" she
asked, looking at Amy and not me.

   "Sure," I said.

   "Did you see a sign on my door that said 'Dead Whore Storage Unit'?"

   I'd hoped Erika's hired help wouldn't poke around the car.  I had also
hoped Amy would've reactivated herself by now.  I considered my words
carefully, while I prayed for a little miracle.  "She's not dead.  She's
just tired."

   The guy searching the car gave a little laugh.  "I've seen a few
corpses, man.  She's good and dead." He poked her for emphasis and she
jiggled around lifelessly.

   "Passports and ferry tickets," Erika was saying.  "That's what we talked
about.  You didn't say a fucking thing about dead girls.  Did you kill
her?"

   All her goons quietly got several inches closer.  It was subtle.  They
were very professional.  And they were about to professionally remove me
from Erika's sight.

   Then there was a gasp and a thump, which turned out to be (1) Amy taking
a shuddering breath and (2) the guy who'd found her smacking his head
against the roof of the car in surprise.  "Fuck me!" he exclaimed.

   Amy winced, felt around on her back and met all the stares aimed her way
in turn.

   "See?" I said to Erika.  "Everything's cool."

   She considered this as she watched Amy make faces at my haphazard
bandaging job.  Then - to my relief - she laughed and waved her guys off.
"Perhaps we need to cut down on the coffees.  I'm sorry dear, but we've had
undercover policemen sniffing around and tax problems and supply issues,
and all kinds of fucking shit.  You and your friend are welcome."

   The heavies took their cue and dispersed, so I went to help Amy out of
the car.

   "This bandage is too tight," she complained under her breath.

   "You almost got us killed," I returned under mine.

   "What are we doing here?"

   I scooped her up.  "Leave that to me.  And please let me know if you're
planning on doing more surgery on yourself."

   I felt her stare boring into me as I tried to look nonchalant in front
of Erika.  "You would like for me to be less autonomous," she decided.

   "Can we talk about this later?"

   She wouldn't let it go.  "Would it be easier for you if I were more
subservient?"

   I took a deep breath.  "Christ no, it wouldn't be easier.  Just talk to
me before doing crazy shit I won't understand anyway."

   Erika led us out of the garage.  I could sense the wheels turning in
Amy's head, but I hoped she'd shut up until we could be alone.  Then her
grip tightened.  "Sorry, Will.  I'll try to communicate better."

   "Fabulous," I whispered.  "Now how about being cool in front of our
host?"

   Erika walked a few yards ahead, pretending not to eavesdrop.  "Passports
are ready and I just need photos.  We can have you at the pier in a blink."
She glanced at Amy over her shoulder.  "I know people who can look your
friend over."

   "Thanks Erika, but you know, the less involved you get, the better."

   She spun on her heels to face us, walking backwards down the hall while
she wiggled her fingers at me like she was casting a spell.  "Ooooh! 
Dramatic...  Secretive..." Her hips swayed playfully and I remembered how
sexy she could be when you were on her good side.  "And of course you have
my safety at heart," she teased, biting her lower lip.  Smiling, to show me
she knew I was holding back on her but it was cool.

   Erika drove us to the harbor in the getaway car from the safe house. 
Thanks to her famous efficiency, Amy and I had tickets, falsified documents
and money from one of my emergency accounts in less than two hours.  I
decided to give her the car and figure something out in Helsinki.  Before
we got out, she straightened my coat, muttering something in Danish.  Then
she mussed my hair.  "Thanks for the wheels, fucker.  Keep in touch."

   I patted her knee.  "We were never here.  Dig?"

   "Who was never here?  I've been with my accountant all morning."

   She drove off with a cheery wave while I maneuvered Amy down to the
check-in queue.  Poor thing could ambulate again, but not without help.  It
was only a three-hour ferry trip over to Finland, but I'd arranged a
private cabin anyway.  Lots of eyes were looking for us, and I wanted to
check the results of Amy's impromptu operation on herself.

   It was a relatively long walk from the gangplank, down into the heart of
the sizeable ship to our cabin.  She went right for the little bed as I
closed and locked the door.  I made a compulsive sweep of the cramped cabin
and drew the curtain over the porthole.  She rolled onto her stomach and
pulled up her sweater so she could point to the bandage.  "It's too tight."
The way she was sitting up on her elbows, feet in the air, made me smile.

   It took a minute to peel off the tape.  The gash had already closed, but
there was bruising and scorching that I didn't like the look of.  I brushed
a finger across it and she tensed.  "Sorry," I said.  "Are you going to be
okay?"

   "Just wrap it back up.  I'll be fine."

   "If you say so."

   When she was satisfied, she rolled over and looked up at me.  She didn't
pull her sweater back down.  The ferry was pulling out of the harbor and I
thought about looking for some Dramamine, but I just sat there on the bed,
leaning over her while she waited, quiet and expectant.  "What?" I laughed.

   She looked away shyly and shook her head.

   I rubbed her arm.  "What do you need, sweetie?"

   Her lips parted and she tilted her head, still avoiding my eyes. 
Finally, she whispered, "Don't you want to kiss me?"

   "Um..." After our eventful morning, the robot girl wanted to make out.
Interesting.

   Unfortunately, she didn't take my hesitation well.  She skittered out
from under me and sat on the pillows, against the headboard.  For emphasis,
she drew her knees up to her chin.  "I'm freaking you out, aren't I?" Her
serious expression was just a front.  I imagined I was about to find out if
she could cry.

   "Amy, no..."

   "I'm sorry, I thought you liked me-"

   "Baby no I like you fine-"

   "...but if it's too weird-"

   "Wait-"

   "...we can just drop it and I'll be mmmhh...  Mmmhhhh?"

   My conversational skills being what they were at times like these, I
figured that kissing her would work out better.  Once she got over her
surprise, she grabbed my head and reciprocated hungrily.  Man, she was good
at kissing, and she tasted so sweet.  I couldn't place it.  Like
honeysuckle or something.  I slipped my arms around her as her knees
lowered.  We eased ourselves down and made out for a good stretch, side by
side.  When you're at first base with someone new, you wonder how far to go
sometimes.  Amy presented a whole other set of variables, obviously.  And
her trembling was as much from exhaustion as from excitement, so I started
thinking it was a bad idea to let this go much farther.

   "This is nice," she breathed, touching my cheek.  "Is it nice?"

   I put my hand on her hip.  "More than nice."

   There was a hint of need in her eternally level gaze.  "I'm really tired
because I'm fixing myself, but we probably could do it if you want." She
smiled around the last few words.

   "Should we?" I asked.  "I mean...  Can you?"

   "You mean did they build me with all my girl parts?" she teased.

   "Well yeah.  You know..."

   She unbuttoned her pants, pulled them down around her hips.  Took my
hand and put my palm against her hot stomach before guiding it into her
panties.  Sure felt complete to me.  Her mouth twitched as she used my
fingers to softly stroke.  "After all," she flirted, "what's the use of
secret agent robots that can't seduce people?" She led me to her very hard
little clit and let go.  "Mmmm.  Yeah..."

   Amy began to rock her hips as her eyes closed.  She rose up on her
elbows and arched her back.  "I've never been with someone like this who...
Knew me," she confided.

   I leaned in for a kiss, which she eagerly supplied.  "How's that working
out?"

   *"Oh, it's exciting..."* To prove it, she broke out in a sweat.  I could
feel it on my wrist against her belly.  She was also producing an alarming
amount of heat, as her hips moved faster and faster.  She grabbed my arm
with both hands and ground against my fingers.

   It was a short ride.  "Hmmmmmmmmhhhhh!" she moaned, as her elbows went
out from under her and she shook the bed.  Her thighs flexed and relaxed as
she rode the wave.

   I evaluated her rapid breathing and feverish, glistening skin.  "Maybe
that's all the excitement you need for now."

   "Mmmh," she nodded.  "Sorry." She looked exhausted, but at least she was
smiling.  I slowly extricated my hand from her underwear.  "I'll make it up
to you later," she promised slyly.

   I kissed her once more.  "Looking forward to it."

   She didn't seem to need sleep, but she drowsed now while her body
repaired itself in its frighteningly efficient way.  I left her alone and
started to dig my laptop out of our bags, because I needed to figure out
the fastest way to Arizona that would keep us a few steps ahead of everyone
who was after us.  The biggest problem would be getting us back into the
States off the radar.

   "Will..." Amy murmured.

   "Try to rest, okay?" She was wheezing a little.  Maybe we shouldn't have
fooled around.

   "Don't..."

   I stopped hooking up my laptop and looked at her.  She was frowning. 
"Don't what?"

   She tried to say more, but couldn't seem to manage it.

   My cell phone rang then.  I pulled it out of my coat pocket and flipped
it open.  I didn't recognize the number.  "You mean 'don't take this
call?'" I asked.

   She just nodded.

   Right.  I turned off the phone.  Time to get a new one, preferably
untraceable.

   ***

   It was already getting dark in Helsinki and it was only 15:00.  I'd been
in Estonia long enough to anticipate it, but I was far from used to it.  I
yawned as I helped Amy into our rental car.

   "Now you look like shit," she smiled.

   I just tucked in her legs and shut the door, glancing around nervously.
I had no illusions about how exposed we were, about how close our pursuers
must be.

   We drove through downtown of this ghostly, fairy tale city for a while
in silence.  "Can you tell if they're closing in on us?" I asked, as I lit
a cigarette.

   "Hey." She indicated that she wanted one.

   "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

   She rolled her eyes and swatted my arm.  "What's it going to do, kill
me? I've done an EVA in orbit without a space suit, Will."

   I felt silly for saying something, and I decided to ignore the
ramifications of what she'd just said.  Anyway, she was starting to perk
up, so I obliged.

   "I'm afraid," she said, as she rolled down her window.

   "Of?"

   "Finding out.  You want to know how I know things sometimes, before they
happen?"

   I laughed as I turned a corner and yielded to some pedestrians.  "Yeah."

   "There's a network that only we can use."

   "The robots?"

   "Sure, the robots," she indulged.  It didn't sound like she enjoyed
being called one.  "We can get into any other network and see things.  Only
it's hard to do it without being noticed."

   "You mean by other ones."

   She took a deep drag.  "Yeah, and certain other people.  I'm used to
doing it all day long.  You know, looking up things, talking to them."

   "And you haven't been?"

   "No," she whispered.  "Not much.  Not since yesterday."

   I put my hand on her knee.  "Must be lonely."

   She put her hand over mine, at least until I needed it to shift gears.
"It's awful!  Like losing your sight and your ISP all at once." I had to
laugh at that one.  "But I'm afraid that if I do it for too long, they'll
find us."

   I started heading out of town.  North.  "You said it was hard to access
it undetected.  Too hard?"

   "We leave a signature when we go there, Will, way too complex to be
human.  Like throwing a boulder into a pond in the rain." Her gift for
simile was striking, given that she was a machine, but we were also two
field agents assessing our situation.  "We do need intel," she agreed. 
"Give me a minute."

   She didn't close her eyes, or sit in lotus, or talk to herself.  She
just kept smoking in silence as I drove.  Flurries began to dance around in
the gray sky.  I turned on the radio and she didn't complain.  After 20
minutes I started zoning out.  I mean, it'd been a hell of a couple of
days, and we'd both need to be sharp when we got to Timo.

   When she broke the silence, the news didn't sound good.  "Fuck..."

   I gripped the wheel.  "What?"

   "Oh no, no, no-"

   "Amy, what?"

   "Just drive.  Wherever we're going, go faster."

   *To Be Continued*

   Comments?  Email me at <aerosol_kid@hotmail.com> Visit me at
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