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Subject: {ASSM} (REV) Ming by Rachael Ross M/F, F/F, SciFi, D/S, MC, Oral, Mast
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Ming
by Rachael Ross

Copyright 2006-2009 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.
rache696@yhoo.com
Codes: M/F, F/F, SciFi, BDSM Elements
Synopsis: My version of "I Robot" meets "Blade Runner"


Ming

Chapter Only



I had gone to sleep at the People's Clinic. And I woke up...elsewhere.

"Body temperature is 94.9...95..."
"Blood pressure is 110 over 60, rising. Pulse 48...increasing."
"Respiration normal, doctor."
"Hang another glucose, please."
"Brain activity is normal, no sign of deterioration."
"Lungs are clear."

Doctors and nurses, dressed in blue and green. I felt...tired. And
cold. I went back to sleep.

I opened my eyes and the room was mercifully dim, but I could see it
was large. Long and filled with beds close together like a barracks,
or a tuberculosis ward, with quietly blinking monitors. A woman lay
next to me, our beds separated by a few feet. She seemed to be
sleeping. I turned over slowly, and it took every ounce of strength I
possessed.

"Hey," a voice whispered and I saw another woman, on another bed. I
nodded at her, taking a deep breath.

"Hello," I finally managed.

"I'm Fong Wen Yung." She seemed stronger than I and much more alert.

"Hello," I repeated, feeling too tired to say anything else. I closed
my eyes once more.

"You are awake again."

I blinked and saw the same girl in the bed next to mine, but I felt
better this time. "Where are we? Is this the People's Clinic?" I asked
slowly, keeping my voice soft like hers.

"I do not know, but the nurses are Americans, I think." It struck me
then, like a rock on my head, she wasn't speaking in the tongue I'd
grown up with. Neither of us were and I felt very nervous, even
frightened perhaps.

"Why are we speaking English?" I asked and the words from my lips were
foreign.

"I don't know. Who are you?"

"I am Ming Yun Su," I said. "From Beijing."

"I'm from Qingdao"

"Oh."

We did not talk after that. A nurse walked slowly down the center
aisle, her rubber soled shoes creaking in that soft light, and she saw
that Fong was awake. I don't know why, but I closed my eyes,
pretending to be asleep when two men came and wheeled her bed away. I
did sleep then, and when I awoke again, there was a new bed, with a
new woman. But she was not awake.

I tried to sit up and I became aware of the tubes in my arm, and
another, a catheter in my sex. I stared at the strange devices and
when the nurse saw me, she walked over.

"Lie down, please. It's too soon for you." She used a needle,
injecting something into my I.V. and I slept again.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

They took my bed, wheeling it from the large room into a smaller one.
Two men and a woman were there, dressed like nurses. They bathed me
gently and one of the men fed me some very soft food, warm rice and
milk. I drank water, flavored like peaches. My body protested and I
felt ill. I'd eaten such a small amount, but it seemed to my belly as
if I'd feasted for hours.

"Your stomach has been empty for a long time. It'll take a few days
before you'll be able to sustain yourself without help," the man said,
gesturing towards the I.V. and smiling patiently. The two women had
left us.

"Where am I?" I asked him.

"You're in Buenos Ares, in the United States of the Americas." He
offered me more of the sweet water, but I shook my head. "You were
purchased by the company and you're in stage four of your
reconditioning."

"Which...company?" I looked around because I did indeed vomit then,
making a terrible mess on the sheet in front of me.

The nurse didn't seem to mind; he wrapped the sheet up carefully and
walked it over to a bin before finding a clean replacement and
spreading it over my naked body. He wiped my mouth softly and gave me
a little more to drink.

"Design Praxis." He smoothed my sheet. "I need to check on some other
units. A doctor will be in shortly, okay?" He touched my head and
smiled. "Would you like to watch some television?"

I nodded and he handed me a remote control before he left, closing the
door behind him. The room was very small, just large enough for the
bed, a small chair, the bin and a cabinet. Some machines and an I.V.
drip were on a stand next to me and there was a small television
mounted to the wall. I thumbed the remote, finding only one channel
available.

"Welcome to Design Praxis!" a cheerful woman's voice spoke as the
television showed the unfamiliar company logo. "This short
indoctrination has been prepared for your benefit. You are a valuable
member of the Praxis team." The TV showed dozens of men and women of
many ethnic backgrounds, all smiling happily. 

"HolograFx Entertainment Systems was formed in 2022," the video
continued, "as a joint venture of Microsoft International, Sony North
America, Pfizer-BioCol Ltd. and Time-Warner Global. In 2030, under the
twin aegis of the Bio-Reformation Act and the New Harvard Genetics
Accord, HFx merged with Advanced Synthetic Designs to became Design
Praxis and made it's IPO on April 1st 2031. Today Praxis is a Fortune
500 company with annual sales in excess of eighteen billion dollars
and is recognized as the personal service industry leader, providing
state of the art products to millions of customers systemwide.

"You are currently at the Praxis Reconditioning Facility located in
Buenos Ares. This facility was completed in 2066 and incorporates the
most advanced reconditioning equipment and techniques available."

I watched as different areas of the facility were displayed. 

"Because Praxis believes in quality over quantity, your specific
reconditioning will not be identical to any other unit's. All of our
products are tailored to meet the specific physical, emotional, and
intellectual requirements of our valued customers. Through our
revolutionary Biogenesis Process you have been modified to provide
many years of stimulating and productive service in a variety of
challenging environments. Advanced technologies, such as AGP and RVS
enhanced DNA recoding are restricted for export to certain countries
and are not permitted for off-world application under any
circumstances."

The television showed laboratories and offices filled with white
smocked employees.

"You are currently in phase four of your reconditioning. Phase one
began with your procurement through the government agency of your
birth nation and included screening and selection for appropriate
service. Phase two commenced with your transfer from your selection
depot to this facility..." The television displayed each process as
the narration continued through all five phases. "...Completed units
typically are maintained in situ less than 24 hours before being
shipped."

There was a shot of hundreds of people filing happily into FedEx
shuttles.

"As property of Design Praxis it is important that you understand your
legal status. You were purchased through the World Trade
Organization's 2047 PSM Convention. The Population Support Measure
requires all countries to eliminate excess population and conforms to
U.N. Resolution 2036-13, which established population density criteria
world-wide. Pursuant to this Convention, Praxis will purchase over
300,000 individuals this year alone for the Personal Entertainment
Division and over 2.2 million more for off-world labor and military
applications.

"By the terms of the PSM you have been designated and registered as
'Human Excess' and are removed from all national obligation, debt, and
privilege. You are property of Design Praxis until such time that you
are purchased and payment is received in full. Upon completion of
financial obligation by the end user, Design Praxis is relieved all
liability for your maintenance and operation, except where specified
by lawful contract.

"Current Federal and UN regulations restrict the sale of Series IV
units to the United States of the Americas. Series III units are
available for private home use in the European Commonwealth, and
Corporate Japan. First and second generation units without specific
DNA recoding are for off-world commercial use only and are available
without restriction. Please review your operating license and note
specific restrictions..."

The presentation was still going on when the door opened and a young
black man with a lab coat and a clipboard walked in. He reached up and
turned off the TV as he walked past it.

"Good morning, Ming. I see you found the indoctrination. Good." He
checked my I.V. and a medical scanner that was beeping softly. "You're
coming along nicely."

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"I'm Dr. Mays and mostly I'm just here to see how you are and move you
to the next phase of your reconditioning."

"Why do I speak English?" I'd been wondering about that a long time.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Ming, " he said with a smile.
"You were asleep for a long time, almost three months, until we
received an order for you."

"So long?" I blinked at him.
He frowned slightly. "Let me back up. We purchased you through the
Chinese government and catalogued you. Then we put you to sleep so
that you would cost less for the company to maintain as inventory,
okay? While you were there we started your reconditioning, teaching
your mind new things while your body slept."

"What...things?" I asked slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Our Series IV customers are American and predominantly English
speaking, so that's what you learned," he explained patiently. "We
also taught you some basic things that you may, or may not have
learned previously. We find that many new units are unfamiliar with
simple American household appliances and customs, for example. We
worked on your personality as well, so that you would better fit the
specifications of your final purchase order."

He paused to let all that sink in.

"We did other things to your body too. You may have noticed for
instance that your breasts are a bit larger and that your nose has
been reshaped slightly, so it's less...flat, more pert."

He smiled as I touched my nose and looked at my chest. I had in fact
not noticed, but they were larger, perhaps a full cup size.

"But those are just cosmetic," Dr. Mays continued. "The real changes
were done at the molecular level, using gene therapy and retroviral
treatment. We've managed to introduce geriatric inhibiters, to reduce
the effects of aging. We can't eliminate it completely of course, but
we can do some amazing things."

"I don't understand." I looked at him blankly.

"Well, you're nineteen-years-old and by the time you're fifty, you'll
look much the same as you do now. We've also been able to invest your
immune system with a much stronger resistance than has ever been
possible before. Cancer, Tuberculosis, Malaria, HIV, even the common
cold doesn't stand much of a chance. Your body can't even host a viral
RNA, let alone become afflicted with it. You'll never be sick again."

"Is everyone...?" I stared at him. I'd never be sick? Never get old?
This sounded like magic and I vaguely remembered the stories told in
the neighborhood where I'd grown up. Americans were like gods to us,
intangible and all-powerful.

"Is everyone...what? Immune?" Dr. Mays smiled. "No. The fact is that
these treatments are not intended for humans and have only recently
been approved for Series IV production. There are certain problems
that arise, especially with aging. As slow as you'll age over the next
thirty years or so, once the inhibiters breakdown, as they inevitably
will, the aging process accelerates at a phenomenal rate. The effects
are not pleasant and irreversible, at least at present."

"So I have thirty years of this..." I looked down at my flawless body,
"...and then I'll die of old age?" It was hard to comprehend, almost
insidious by design, I thought. 

"Virtually overnight," the doctor nodded. "Does that disturb you,
Ming?"

I thought about it and found that it didn't seem to bother me in the
least. I shook my head.

"Acceptance of certain...truths...is part of your reconditioning," he
said while making a note of some kind on his clipboard. "Anyway, this
phase that you're in now is mostly just acclimatizing and
regeneration. Your body needs to learn how to eat again, how to digest
and process American food, rather than your sub-standard native fare.
You also require some additional physical modification, particularly
to your ovaries, some cosmetic dental work, and minor surface
reconditioning. New skin, in other words, to remove blemishes for
example. These are all very easy and it'll take less than three or
four days."

"My ovaries?" I instinctively moved my hand to my stomach and lower,
as if to protect myself.

"We strive to provide our clients with premium services, Ming. None of
our units are capable of human reproduction, of course, but there are
other alternatives that are available as special options. Your eggs
were purged during phase three, as they are in all female units,"  he
explained with a small shrug, as if this were nothing at all. "Males
undergo a different procedure to render the sperm unviable."

"You said other alternatives?" I wondered what that meant.

"Your end user will be able to explain more fully, Ming." Dr. Mays
smiled as he looked up from his clipboard. "I see certain aspects of
your reconditioning were blocked from your conscious processing.
That's not unusual. You'll just have to be patient."

I nodded my acceptance, wondering why I wasn't feeling more distressed
at all this. Had they brainwashed me so thoroughly that I calmly
accepted everything, for better or worse, without regard for my own
lost dreams? I didn't feel different, but then I tried to remember
what I'd felt like before I'd gone to sleep and...I couldn't.

"And then what?" I asked him.

"And then you'll go through Quality Assurance and be shipped out. You
were purchased by, hmmm..." He looked through his clipboard, punching
some buttons. "Ms. Julia Harrison for delivery to Mr. Randolph
Harrison, of Seattle, Washington. The order was for an attractive
subservient oriental female, virgin, 18-22 years, petite build, 34C
breasts, long hair, fluent in English, competent at cooking, cleaning,
and household management." Doctor Mays looked back up at me. "How do
you prepare Chicken Cordon Bleu?"

I offered the recipe mechanically, not knowing where the words came
from, but certain they were correct. It was shocking.

He smiled when he saw the look on my face. "I'm sure there are many
things you'll find surprising. Here, you can see some of the specific
requirements your end-user requested." Dr. Mays pushed a key on his
clipboard and a moment later handed me a small printout.

I scanned down the page noting that I could play chess, bridge,
tennis, and golf. I had a conversational knowledge of English
literature, classical music, and renaissance art. I had an affection
for dogs and horses. I could swim, dance a waltz and tango, and play
the piano. There were other things, but those stuck out in my mind,
simply because it had never occurred to me before that I would ever
know anything about them. I handed the paper back to Dr. Mays.

"Why did they pick me? I mean, how...why?" I didn't even know how to
express my confusion. 

"Who? Your government? Or the customer?" Dr. Mays gave me a tender
smile. "The Chinese government picked you according to their own
criteria; I honestly don't know the specifics. The customer placed the
basic inquiry through our spring catalogue and then a customer service
representative sat down with them and went over specifics. You..." he
looked pointedly at me, "...were picked for Series IV by the
engineers, based partly on your appearance, which I must say is quite
exquisite, but even more importantly on your intellectual potential
and your genetic composition. Certain aspects of your conditioning and
enhancement simply aren't possibly with 99% of the general
population."

I nodded as though I understood.

"You're the very finest entertainment product in the world, Ming. And
very valuable," he sighed, stroking my hair gently. "Worth your weight
in gold, literally. We'll manufacture and sell over a quarter million
pleasure units this year, but less than a hundred will be a Series IV
like you. That's why I'm here, why everyone in the company is
dedicated to ensuring your well-being. We are all extremely proud of
you, Ming."

Dr. Mays returned to his clipboard while I tried to digest what he'd
told me. 

"As to the philosophical 'why you?' That's what we all wonder, isn't
it?" He chuckled softly. "Perhaps the Harrisons will be able to
explain. My information says he's on the Board of Directors at Boeing
Aerospace and Ms. Harrison is...hmmm...doesn't say. Good customers
though, three units in fourteen months..." he seemed to be talking to
himself. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"When...when can I go home?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"To China? Never. Your home is here, for the next few weeks, and then
it will be in Seattle. You are Unit F031129-68, PID is Ming and your
processor is an Intel/MSI Neural Series IV..." Dr. Mays offered me one
last smile. "You should be very proud of yourself."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Welcome to Quality Assurance, Ming. My name is Peterson and this is
Nance." The man was older, in his late forties, I thought, with gray
hair and a beard. He had soft green eyes that seemed friendly enough.
He nodded at a younger woman who was looking at a small clipboard.

"Please undress and lie down on the glass," she told me.

The room looked like a cross between a doctor's office and an
electronics repair shop. In the center was an examination table, the
top appeared to be made of smoked glass and it lit up brightly when I
laid down on it. On a large HV nearby, a hologram of my body appeared,
standing upright, and as Nance played with her clipboard layers of
skin, fat and muscle appeared and disappeared until first my internal
organs and then only my bone structure was visible. It was mildly
disturbing.

"There you go. Comfortable?" Peterson asked me, then continued without
waiting for an answer. "We're going to scan you physically, looking
for cosmetic defects first of all, and then we'll test your body
functions. Heart, liver, kidneys, brain, bladder, everything. And then
we will be looking at your DNA to make sure everything is as it should
be there."

I didn't say anything, but merely watched as the man tapped his
fingers on a small keyboard. Nance checked a small readout on a metal
stand near by, glancing at me every now and again without smiling.

"After that, we'll be looking at your reconditioning; your protocols
and interlocks," Peterson explained. "All the little gizmos and
gadgets that God, in his so-called wisdom, should have added, but
didn't. Do you believe in God, Ming?"

I turned my head to look at him. "No."

"Very good. Do you have any questions for me before we start?"

"Do you believe in God?"

"Of course." Peterson smiled.

I was scanned by a laser, poked, prodded, and pricked. I gave blood,
urine, stool, bone marrow, spinal fluid, and who knows what else to
the technicians who shuttled back and forth from the QA lab to their
own, distant facilities. It was incredible how painful some of those
processes were, I'd never felt anything like it. I couldn't remember
the IV's hurting that much before, but I'd been mostly sleeping then
too. 

All the while Peterson, and to a lesser extent his assistant, Nance,
conversed with me. They asked questions, both mundane and penetrating,
testing me in some ways, I supposed. They also imparted trivial
information that meant very little really. Like the fact that while
they QA'd only 2% of all units produced, they checked 100% of the
Series IV units and had experienced a 17.5% mean failure rate since
the series was introduced for production four months previously. The
acceptable limit was 5% and the goal, of course, was always zero.
There were too many numbers and they made little sense to me, but
perhaps technicians are always that way. In any event, I found their
attention far more comforting than their words.

It had been a long, tiring day for me and by the time a technician
escorted me back to my room, I felt exhausted. The next day promised
to be easier, I hoped. They would be checking my conditioning.

My room was more of a small apartment than anything else. I found it
remarkable that one person could have three rooms all to herself; a
small sitting room with a desk and television, a separate bedroom, and
a small bath with a shower. I did not have any real specific memories
of my previous life, but I had general recollections of some things,
predominantly bad things, like overcrowding, hunger, and poverty. I
had access to the library through a small computer terminal and I
found myself reading The 120 Days of Sodom, laughing at some parts,
and idly masturbating through others, while a cold, restless voice in
my head wondered why.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Good morning, Ming. Did you sleep well?" Peterson was already waiting
for me when I arrived back in QA and I nodded. "Good. No dreams?"

"I...don't remember," I admitted with a small shrug.

"Excellent," he smiled. "Ming, this is Lucy and her friend Michael,
they're going to assist us this morning. Please do whatever they ask,
alright?"

I nodded and looked at them. Lucy was a young woman, very pale with
platinum hair and hollow blue eyes. She seemed somewhat lifeless
somehow; it is hard to express my impression. The woman was
attractive, dressed in a white skirt and blouse, like a doctor's
assistant, but she frightened me. Her companion, Michael, looked like
her twin brother, very similar in appearance, but obviously male with
broad shoulders and a tapering waist. His eyes were as blue as Lucy's,
and just as empty. He stared at me without expression.

"Are you ready, Nance?" Peterson looked at his partner and she nodded.

"Michael, you may begin now," Nance said and immediately the man moved
towards me, but he gave no sign of real interest.

"Yes ma'am. Ming, would you remove your clothes for me, please?"
Michael asked softly.

I did as the man requested, removing my dress and my bra and panties,
even my shoes, although the floor was cold.

"Now give me a blowjob, please," the man said matter-of-factly.

I had never done that before in my life, but as if by their own accord
my feet moved closer and my knees bent sothat I knelt in front of him.
I started unzipping his trousers and pulled his penis free, wrapping
my lips around it. A sudden feeling of satisfaction flooded me and
Nance noted my physical reaction on her clipboard, although I had no
idea how she knew. I felt vaguely uneasy at having three other people
in the room watching me perform, but it was also exciting for some
reason and I felt my body responding even as Nance told us the
specifics.

"Body temp increasing, respiration slowing, heart rate increasing...
adrenaline up 22 percent, all within parameters," she said softly and
a few minutes later she spoke again. "Next, please."

"Your blowjob is the worst I have ever received, Ming." Michael pulled
away and slapped my face just hard enough to sting. I sat back with a
sudden and terrifying shame, although I felt a simultaneous rush of
excitement that confused me utterly.

"There we go...blood pressure is through the roof, 170 over 110, pulse
109 and increasing, I have capillary dilation and ...there we
go...tears."

I started crying and apologizing to the man. I didn't know why but I
felt the urgent need to be forgiven, to have another chance at making
him happy.

"Thank you, Ming." The blonde man reached down to stroke my hair. "I
am very happy with you now." I felt immediately better and kissed the
tops of his shoes. "You may continue."

I went back to his cock, sucking him with earnest gratitude for giving
me another chance. I became so engrossed in what I was doing that I
almost forgot that we weren't alone. I found that I was quite adept at
giving the man oral pleasure, and though he seemed very large in my
small hands, I had quickly worked his cock fully into my mouth and
deeper, into my throat, as if trying to swallow it. The effects of my
muscles on his organ seemed to please Michael a great deal and he was
soon cumming, spilling his warm seed down my throat. If he'd not
spoken, telling everyone else that he was cumming, I doubted anyone
would have even known, at least by my reactions. I swallowed it all
easily, expertly even, not spilling a tiny drop. He pulled from my
mouth with a reluctant *plop* sound, now only semi-hard and wet from
base to tip with semen and saliva.

"Nominal, I'd say." Peterson looked at the Nance who nodded. They'd
been talking quietly the whole time, noting how my body reacted, maybe
even my mind, and the total lack of privacy implied was frightening. 

"Lucy, your turn." Nance looked at the woman.

"Yes, ma'am." Lucy clicked her fingers. "Ming, come her and lick my
pussy now." I crawled over happily as she lifted her skirt, as if even
the basic concept of refusal had become utterly alien to me. 

I'd never in my life wanted to do anything with another woman. In
fact, the idea had repelled me once, as I dimly recalled. But now, I
found that I knew exactly what to do and I enjoyed it. I kissed and
licked and sucked at her sex as though I'd been born to it. I used my
tongue, lips, teeth, fingers, even my nose, cheeks and chin. It seemed
to bring the young woman to a quick and almost violent orgasm. She was
certainly enjoying it and the response was gratifying to both of us as
I drank her sharp, bitter-sweet juices.

"Looks good, Nance," Peterson said. "Try the orgasm function."

"Ming," Nance looked up from her clipboard, "you may cum now." 

And it seemed that my fingers had only been waiting for permission
before delving between my own thighs. I found it strange that I hadn't
thought of masturbating, but only briefly, for within just a few
moments I was enveloped with pure pleasure. I grasped the blonde
woman's thighs with my wet fingers, mouthing her cunt breathlessly as
the first orgasm of my new life swept through me like a wildfire. Lucy
held my head and began grinding her sex against my face, as she came
for a third or fourth time as well. Lucy finally pulled away and left
me on the floor, moaning and massaging my sex until the sensations
subsided.

"Not bad, 87 seconds. I guess that 6.A fix seems to work," Nance said.

"Almost too well, I think 6.B will be better. We'll patch it before we
release her." Peterson looked at Lucy and Michael, "You two may leave
now, thank you. Report back to custodial services."

"Yes, sir," the two spoke together, straightening their clothing and
soon left the room without so much as a second glance at me.

"They are...janitors?" I was confused slightly, disoriented from the
experience of having my sexuality so rudely awakened and then
seemingly dismissed. I still felt a need inside.

Nance laughed softly. "Those two?" She glanced at he door closing
softly shut. "Series I baseline units."

"They do odd jobs," Peterson shrugged. "Not much good for anything
else really, but we keep them around."

"But they're...they were...human." I had never seen another unit,
Series I or otherwise, at least not knowingly. I had interacted solely
with employees since I'd awoken, or so I thought. "Do I look like
them?" I wondered aloud, recalling their vacant, haunted eyes.

"Human?" Nance shook her head. "Barely. And not anything like you,
Ming." She was speaking at the same time as Peterson.

"No, you don't look like them," the man told me. "They're human, yes.
Russians once, but now they're not. You need to realize, Ming, that
this process is...evolution. Consider Lucy and her friend your great-
grandparents, like Australopithecus or Cro-Magnon Man. At one time
they were the peak of biotechnology, now they're..."

"Australopithecus was an evolutionary dead end," I said quietly,
without really intending to, but they hadn't heard me anyway.

"Slaves..." Nance said softly and Peterson shot her a look.

"Tools," he said loudly and pointedly at her more than me, I thought.

"Am I a slave?" I asked.

"No. Slavery implies a loss of freedom. You never had any." He was
very curt and frowned as he looked down at his clipboard. "Let's get
back on track. Ming, what is your function?"

"To provide stimulating and efficient service to the customer," I
replied, wishing to continue our discussion but knowing I couldn't.
You could still lose something, even if you never had it, I thought.

"What are your protocols?"

"Safety. Conduct. Sexual."

"What is your safety protocol?"

"I may not harm any person, nor through inaction allow harm to come to
any person, except as directed by my owner-operator."

Peterson looked at Nance. "Do you have the bioware protocols called
up?"

"Yeah, um..." She pushed some keys. "Now I do. You want to compare?"

"We better." Peterson agreed. "Ming, Engage Interlock Bypass Pale
Rabbit One Eight."

"Confirmed," I responded immediately, wondering why I'd said that.
"Warning: Tampering with this unit's bioware protocols is strictly
prohibited and punishable under US and international law. All sensory
inputs are now being recorded. If you believe you have accessed this
information by error contact Design Praxis Technical Services
immediately for further information and instruction."

Nance nodded. "They finally got the warning in there."

"Yeah, Congress got a little excited after that kid tried to reprogram
a Series III to assassinate the President," Peterson chuckled. "She
got off with a spanking."

"A little more than a spanking. I remember that." Nance smiled.
"Strange little girl. Her dad was the Vice-President, wasn't he?"

"Her uncle, yeah. Ming, this might feel...strange...you have a tiny
bio-chip subcutaneous to your cerebral cortex and we're going to read
the data imprinted on it, okay?"

I shivered as I felt a slight electrical jolt run along my spine.
"This...chip...it is a computer?"

Nance shook her head. "It's a biological storage device, read only
memory that's been grafted into your brain. It doesn't really hold a
lot, and it isn't much more reliable than your real memory."

"But it makes the government feel better," Peterson said.

"What does it say?" I asked.

"Well, among other things, it says that your brain will shut itself
down if you try to do certain things, like injure or kill someone,"
Peterson explained patiently. "It's basically a fail-safe."

"So we can feel safe around you," Nance shrugged.

"Safe?" I didn't understand.

"What is the difference between right and wrong, Ming?" Peterson asked
me.

I frowned as I had no clear idea.

"What is the difference between good and evil?" He stared at me.

I paused before answering. "I don't know."

"Exactly," the man smiled. "That's why we put the bio-chip inside your
pretty little head. The Ten Commandments, in a manner of speaking."

"We gave you a conscience," Nance added. She turned to Peterson. "They
look good."

"Okay. Ming. Close Interlock Bypass Pale Rabbit One Eight."

"Confirmed," I responded.

"What is your conduct protocol, Ming?" Peterson asked.

"I may only perform those functions approved by my owner-operator,
which do not conflict with the terms of my product license."

"They sure trimmed that one way down," Nance noted.

"It's really just there to protect the company. The old set tended to
create a lot of conflict. Customers were trying to override some self-
preservation fail-safes and the whole unit would just melt down."
Peterson started punching some buttons on his clipboard. "It was in TA
032-68 last week." 

"I didn't see that tech advisory. Hmmm...but basic functions are
included, right?"

"Oh yeah, there are normal instinctive fail-safes we haven't
inhibited." Peterson looked at me. "Ming, hold your breath until I
tell you to stop."

While I did as he asked, Peterson kept talking to Nance. 

"Anyway, this allows the customers to tailor conduct protocols to suit
their needs. Plus, it isn't covered in the warranty anymore, since its
part of the end-user conditioning process. For a fee they can
customize the protocol requirements, send it to us, and we'll do the
conditioning, but that hasn't been real popular yet. Same with sexual.
I think customers want their privacy when it comes to product
behavior. The .7 upgrade will integrate conduct and sexual into a
single behavioral protocol."

"That'll be good," Nance agreed and then I passed out.

I was surprised when I woke up, wondering why I hadn't died. Of course
I'd started breathing once I lost consciousness. I stood up slowly and
looked around.

"...alleviates much of the problem."

Nance was frowning. "But Legal is still..."

"Those guys in Legal forget why we're using human excess now instead
of clones or even replicants. Their only concern is that some idiot
will find a way to kill his wife with one of these things and leave
Corporate high and dry in a liability suit. Behavioral wants to cut
down on the protocols because they inhibit nature. They're a lot more
excited about the conditioning process than anything they can do with
hardware."

"But..."

Peterson cut his assistant off. "But it all comes down to human
integrity, self-awareness on a molecular level and genetic memory. The
sub-conscious collective. Series IV will make use of that to a far
greater extent than we ever thought possible."

"It sounds like metaphysics too me," Nance laughed. "I came up from
Cosmetics, remember? You need better lips we change a couple g's to
t's. Easy."

"I spent twelve years in Biodyne...God is in the details." Peterson
smiled. "Ah, she's awake." He walked over to me and held out his hand,
helping me up from the floor where I'd collapsed. "Let's run through
the protocols and then we'll get physical. Shall we continue, Ming?"

I nodded.

"What is your sexual protocol?"

"I may engage in sexual activity only with the express consent of my
end user for the purpose of providing him with pleasure," I recited it
slowly. Something about it didn't seem right and I frowned.

"Then why did you perform oral sex on Lucy and her friend just a few
hours ago, Ming?" Peterson asked reasonably.

"I...I..." I searched for an answer and found that I could not find
one. I felt as if I couldn't breathe suddenly and a surge of panic
rushed through my body.

"Mmmm...that's a problem." Nance was making some notations on her
clipboard.

"Ming." Peterson caught my eyes and I stared at him. "Listen
carefully. Yellow Gambit Six Nine Six Access."

I blinked as if I hadn't heard him. I found myself lying down on the
glass table and I sat up slowly, feeling very refreshed and my recent
distress all but forgotten.

"Shall we continue, Ming?" Peterson looked up from his clipboard and I
nodded. "Please list your sexual protocols."

"Priority One: I may engage in sexual activity when required by
Technical Services to ensure the proper operation of my sexual
functions. Priority Two: I may engage in sexual activity to alleviate
conflict with my Safety and/or Conduct protocols. Priority Three: I
may engage in sexual activity with the express consent of my end user
for the purpose of providing him or her with pleasure."

"Better," Nance said with a nod. "I'll get a note off to Simmons. He's
not going to like taking a hit on this."

"It's always the little things," Peterson agreed. "Well, make sure he
knows the protocols were in place. It was just a parity error; she
knew what she was supposed to do, but not why."

"Hmmph," Nance grunted. "It's easy to forget these things need to know
why."

"We're not building toasters, Nance!" Peterson laughed. "Ming, would
you like to be punished?"

"Have I offended you?" I felt suddenly very contrite and I just knew I
had done something wrong. I looked down at my feet and clasped my
hands behind my back.

"No, Ming, you haven't offended me at all. In fact, you've pleased me
a great deal and I'd like to reward you." Peterson's face was kind.
"Punished is perhaps the wrong word. Would you like to be spanked?"

I felt a great flood of relief and I smiled eagerly. I would enjoy
nothing more than being spanked right then. It seemed I'd been waiting
for days, ever since I'd first awoken in that strange bed, to be
spanked. "Yes...Master." It seemed proper to add that title and I
slipped to my knees, bending over to kiss his feet. "Please spank me."

"Vitals?" Peterson looked at Nance.

"Looks good. Her pulse, respiration, blood pressure, everything is
going up nicely," Nance shrugged.

"She's almost too eager." The man rubbed his bearded chin. "Call up
the purchase order, what does it say?"

"Okay, hold on..." The woman pushed some keys on the small pad. "Uh,
oh...no, she's right on target I think. She's SubMas Level 9; Em
Response is a pos straight eight...PTh 1...PTo 9...Jesus, that's
cruel." Nance shook her head. "You're going to have to break the skin
to get an endorphin response."

"Yeah." Peterson frowned a bit. He didn't look particularly happy and
I was worried that I was displeasing him somehow.

"Master?" I was still at Peterson's feet.

"Yes, Ming?"

"I am sorry, Master." I kept my eyes down and my lower lip trembled
slightly.

"Oh, no!" He laughed. "It isn't your fault, Ming. Look, maybe we
should explain..."

"Do you think that's wise?" Nance broke in. "Some things are best left
to the customer's discretion, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but well...We need to do it, so she'll have some downtime
anyway. If it becomes a problem we'll fix it, better to find out now.
This will come up again, I'm sure. Make a note of her system time and
we'll have conditioning run a linear memory purge if we have to."

"You're the boss," Nance sighed.

"Ming," Peterson looked down at me. "You're made for pleasure..."

"Someone's idea of pleasure," Nance interjected softly. I glanced at
her and saw some compassion in her eyes.

"Quiet..." Peterson continued, "You're a Level 9 Submissive/Masochist,
which is peak. Your Emotional Responses are topped out, everything
from fear and love, to shame and pride and all the stuff in between.
Normally these responses would be graduated, on a sort of curve if you
want to imagine it that way. Fear might be low and Love might be high,
or vice versa, depending on the effects desired. This also helps avoid
unnecessary emotional conflict. Do you understand?"

I shook my head. "I think I should love my fear. I do not think that I
feel...distressed."

Nance laughed. "You think the customer knows something we don't?"

"Series IV." Peterson grinned. "I love these things. Okay. Good, Ming.
Now the other thing is that your Pain Threshold is set very low. A
normal healthy adult human is about a 4 or 5, right in the middle.
Yours is significantly lower than that, like a young child's. You will
feel virtually everything and it will hurt a great deal. Think of it
as having supersensitive skin, but of course it goes much deeper than
that."

I nodded, remembering how much just having blood drawn had hurt. It
had seemed like the worst thing in the world. But at the same time...

"Your Pain Tolerance, however, is set very high, maxed out in fact.
Everything hurts, but your body is able to withstand it to a degree
that would far exceed anything I or Nance, or any other normal person
could take. This doesn't mean you enjoy it, that's a function of your
SubMas conditioning. Pain Tolerance means that your nervous system
itself has been modified so that your body will resist taking normal
defensive measures, such as passing out or going into shock. Your mind
too is affected by this, creating in essence the ability to accept
pain, to rationalize it, if you will. This combination allows you to
function under extremely adverse conditions."

"It's important you understand that Threshold and Tolerance are not
the same thing; they don't even necessarily go hand in hand, although
most healthy people possess a certain equilibrium," Nance said, trying
to explain. "In your case there has been a deliberate effort to
separate them."

She looked at me and I questioned Peterson, returning to his previous
statement. "Then there is an increased risk of injury?" I asked and
when Peterson nodded, I came to the logical conclusion... "That is
acceptable." I smiled up at him. "Will you hurt me now, please?"

"Welcome to SubMas 9..." Nance whispered, somewhat sadly, I thought.

"Stand up, Ming." Peterson gestured and I rose to my feet, wondering a
little petulantly if I was ever going to get spanked.

He turned me around and I felt his warm hands on my back, touching my
soft, golden skin as he examined me closely. I had not so much as a
mole now, not a mark or scratch. My body was as smooth as a baby's,
tender and new.

"We'll do this tonight. I'll get that Series II training unit they
keep down in Behavioral Sciences, it's a Level 5 DomSad." He looked at
Nance. "Unless you want to do it?"

"No thanks," she chuckled ruefully. "Not my cup of tea, I'm afraid."
She glanced at her clipboard. "Three days you think? We're already two
days overdue on this one."

"I know." Peterson shrugged. "The delivery date is only an estimate
anyway. It's in the small print. I'll do the paperwork on it." The man
looked at the clock on the wall behind him. "I guess we have some time
to kill, do you want to take Ming back to her room? I'll set
everything up for tonight, say 1900 hours, we'll use the lab in 3b,
it's empty and soundproofed."

Nance nodded and jerked her head. "Let's go for a walk, Ming. Get
dressed."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I smiled briefly at Peterson and followed Nance out of the QA Lab and
into the corridor.

"Did you understand everything Peterson was saying?" she asked me as
we walked along a broad, open-air skyway. The facility was largely
stainless steel, aluminum and glass, very modern and beautiful, but
somewhat cold aesthetically, I thought.

"I think so. You're going to test me. My response to BDSM."

"Yes, that's right. Believe it or not, that's your primary function.
All the rest...the skills, the knowledge, even your appearance to a
certain extent, is secondary to your ability to perform as desired in
a specific environment. In your case a Dominant/submissive
environment, and more precisely in a Sadist/masochist relationship."
Nance looked at me, pausing and leaning on a railing a thousand feet
above the city proper sprawled out below. "How does that make you
feel?"

"It makes me very happy." I didn't hesitate; the emotion was clear and
strong inside me. "I'm nervous, a little afraid that I will not know
exactly how to satisfy my end user, my...owner...but I'm sure he will
teach me." I glanced at the woman beside me. "Will he?"

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Nance nodded, but she didn't seem pleased.

We started walking again, slowly.

"Why does that bother you?" I asked her.

"I started working here right out of medical school. The money was
good and the work was...interesting. I wasn't curing cancer or
anything, but I was creating something new, you know?" 

I didn't, but I let her continue. 

"We were building the Series I then, mostly. The Series II was just
coming online and it was exciting. But they were just...things. Not
real, not like people at all. The Series I especially. They weren't so
much conditioned as just wiped. They had so much hardware..." Nance
gestured helplessly. "Well, you saw those two this morning. Robots
really, the body is just a life support system for the CPU. I suppose
that was natural though, you know, hybrid's getting us from the
Replicant era into the Biogenisis age."

We turned towards the pyramid shaped enclosure where my rooms were
located.

"Anyway, Series II was better and then Series III was a real
breakthrough. We were finally able to teach, instead of just program.
They started living up to their potential. The hardware requirements
lessened significantly and software started catching up with genetics,
so that the body itself could be programmed. Bio-Dynamics wasn't just
theoretical anymore, it was applied."

She paused, looking at me as if she expected something. A question
perhaps, but I was content to listen and I only nodded.

"Anyway, the Series III units are still robots, still limited in a lot
of ways," she continued. "Not just by design, but by the technology
required for mass production."

Nance stepped onto the lift and I joined her, although it was really
only intended for one person. We stood very close together, facing
each other and my eyes were level with her full breasts, pressing
against the white fabric of her uniform. She was looking down at me as
we were gently pushed upward along the Plexiglas tube.

"But you, Ming..." she whispered. "The only limits on you are put in
place out of fear."

"I don't understand." I smiled up at her.

"Series IV is a new race, a new life form." She put her hands on my
waist. "Series V will have no hardware at all and Series VI..." she
shrugged. "They will be children, raised from the womb to perform
specific duties. Conditioning will begin in the uterus and never stop,
do you understand?"

"I think so." The lift stopped at my level, 1244-Gold, but neither of
us moved. I had my hands around her neck. "You are frightened."

Nance nodded. "We are all frightened..." she said as I pulled her face
down to mine, "...of you."

I kissed her deeply. I knew it was what Nance wanted, had wanted all
day long, and yesterday too...since she'd first seen me.

"You do not have to be afraid," I whispered. "I am just a person." I
led her by the hand, pausing to open my room with my palm print on the
scanner.

"Ming, I..." Nance stared at me and I suddenly found her very
attractive.

I hadn't noticed before really. She might have been 40 years old, with
a handsome face, strong and serious. Her black hair had a few early
gray strands starting here and there. She seemed fit and firm and I
wanted her, not just sexually, but emotionally. I had a very large
hole inside me someplace, indefinable and irresistible. Nance could
fill it, I thought, if only for a brief while. That would be enough.

"Shhh...I know you want me, Nance." I smiled and dropped to my knees
as the door slid shut with a whisper. "When I kissed that girl,
before, on her sex..." I tilted my head, fixing my eyes on hers as I
slid my hands up the woman's legs, across the back of her knees and
along her thighs, "...I could sense your desire."

I pulled her panties down, drawing the nylon taut so that she could
step out of them.

"You don't have...to...ohhh!" Nance hissed between her teeth as my
mouth found her pussy. I'd lifted her skirt high enough to expose the
woman's sex and I sucked her tiny clit eagerly. "Oh yes! Ming! Lick
me...Please!"

Her fingers were in my hair and I tickled between her labia, engorged
with excitement. I could taste her sexual energy, the small dampness
already starting and I stiffened my tongue, pressing it inward as she
clutched me to her.

Nance slowly backed towards my small bedroom, leading me as I shuffled
awkwardly along on my knees, refusing to stop my efforts at bringing
the woman pleasure. She sat down finally on the bed, falling onto her
back, and I took advantage, pushing her legs up so I could tongue her
asshole as well. It gave me even greater pleasure to do that for her,
licking at her anus and working my tongue inside while my thumb
flicked over her clit gently.

"Ming..." she breathed as I wormed my tongue inside her anus, feeling
delightful shame at doing something so blatantly taboo.

I pushed a finger against her tight sphincter, licking around it as I
pushed inside. I did the same with my other hand, working a finger
inside her cunt, fucking both of her holes slowly at first, both of us
enjoying the sensation.

"Perhaps we should have knocked." A man's voice startled me, and
especially Nance who bolted upright with a little gasp.

My fingers were still pushed inside the woman's body, even as she
tried to pull away from me. Her voice was breathless and tinged with
embarrassment. "Dr. Chartre! I'm...uh, excuse me!" My fingers came
free of Nance's pussy and anus and she pulled a sheet up to cover her
immodesty.

I licked my fingers slowly, looking over my shoulder at the 60ish man,
balding and austere, with a younger man and a woman behind him. The
female seemed to be smirking a little, I thought. I'd remained
kneeling beside the bed and I felt a delicious shiver of shame run
through me at having been caught in so compromising a situation, but
it was only a small one. I didn't know these people after all, so why
should I care what they thought?

"Edward, I believe you have..." Dr. Chartre smiled as his male
companion, a well dressed man with close cropped blonde hair, stepped
forward, holding Nance's forgotten panties delicately between his
thumb and forefinger.

"Perhaps we could talk to her in the other room, Director?" the woman
suggested softly. She was an extremely attractive young woman with
long red hair. "I suspect Dr. Nance would like to freshen up."

Nance blushed as she took her panties back with trembling fingers.
"Thank you," she managed to say. The man nodded and smiled, averting
his gaze like a gentleman.

"Of course. Ming, will you come with us please?" Dr. Chartre gazed
down at me and I stood, following them all into the other room,
leaving Nance alone on the bed.

Dr. Chartre took one of my two chairs and gestured for me to take the
other, while his assistants stood nearby, leaning against the wall. I
was vaguely aware of Nance's sex juices still damp on my face and I
resisted the urge to wipe my lips with the back of my hand. Instead I
merely looked at the older man with some small curiosity.

"Ming, this is Dr. Alan Chartre. He's the Director of this facility
and one of the real pioneers in Biogenesis," the young man spoke
first. "My name is Edward and this is Lynn."

"Are you doctors?" I looked from Edward to Lynn and back.

He shook his head. "No. I'm in Marketing and Lynn is with Public
Relations. I do numbers and she..." he offered the woman a smile,
"...she's a people person."

Lynn returned his smile at that. She really was amazingly beautiful,
flawless in fact. Her eyes were a dark, and bluish like smoke, and she
stared into mine, as if trying to capture some hidden part of me. Her
face, her body, everything about her seemed perfect. Too perfect, the
way I was, and it became immediately obvious.

"She is like me," I said.

"What do you mean?" Dr. Chartre sat back in his chair.

"She is Series IV." I smiled. "Like me."

"That's right, Ming. Very good," Dr. Chartre nodded. "Lynn was the
eleventh unit produced and the first one to be commissioned. Her
predecessors were prototypes, not completely functional. But Lynn, she
is the first." The man looked at her with what seemed to be paternal
pride, as much as anything else.

"And you, Ming, are her younger sister," Edward said to me. "You're
the 27th unit in the production series."

"I heard you had some free time, Ming." Dr. Chartre glanced at the
closed door to my bedroom. "So I thought we could have a little chat.
I apologize for the timing."

"Nance was afraid," I shrugged. "I desired to comfort her."

"What was she afraid of, Ming?" Lynn narrowed her eyes at me.

"Me." I stared back at her. "Us."

"That's not an uncommon reaction." Edward was speaking now. "Every
Series introduction has experienced some adverse..."

Dr. Chartre held up his hand and the younger man stopped talking.
"Have you studied history at all, Ming?" I shook my head and he
continued with a wry smile. "No, of course not. That isn't an interest
we promote here, really. Like current events. Have you watched the
news at all? Browsed the internet or anything?"

"No sir, I did not..." I shrugged, "...I did not know I should. That I
was...allowed..."

"Well, it's a matter of choice, really. Lynn," he glanced at her,
"likes to keep up with fashion, I think. Some small percentage of my
budget goes straight into her closet." He laughed and Lynn actually
blushed slightly. "But we like it that way." Dr. Chartre leaned
forward, staring into my eyes. "We like her that way," he emphasized.

I nodded, without really understanding why he would tell me these
things.

"But not everyone agrees with us, Ming." Dr. Chartre opened his hands,
as though pleading a case before me. "Some people think that what
we're doing is wrong. That we're creating a slave race, or at the very
least...What was that phrase the General Secretary used, Edward?" The
older man turned as his assistant spoke.

"He said we were '...Exploiting the desperation of an economically
vulnerable people.'" Edward shook his head. "The Vatican has formally
opened an inquiry into whether the Series IV units have souls or not."

"Let us hope we do not," Lynn giggled. "It will save us a lot of
suffering later." She winked at me and I had to smile.

"That same Vatican, you might be interested to know, has recently
placed an order for 15,000 Series II units," Dr. Chartre smiled at the
irony. "For some two hundred years, from the late 19th century until
this one, the Church was pretty much out of the missionary business."

"There just weren't any more New Worlds," Edward interjected with a
small gesture, earning a nod from his superior.

"And now there are. A whole galaxy full of them," the older man
continued. "From a sociological standpoint, everything is coming full
circle; it's a very exciting time. Some even say the inquisition is
coming back, complete with heretics and witches." Dr. Chartre
chuckled, but I sensed it wasn't entirely good humored. "Guess who the
devil is going to be?"

The door to my bedroom opened just then, slowly, and Nance peered out.
"Pardon me, Director. If you'll excuse me..." She glanced at the door
exiting my quarters, obviously wishing to leave without further
embarrassment.

"Of course, Doctor. We hadn't meant to intrude on you like that." He
smiled at Nance. "I'm sure you have things to do."

Nance nodded with relief and began walking across the room.

"But, before you go..." Dr. Chartre's words stopped the woman in her
tracks, "...perhaps you would explain why Ming thinks you're afraid of
her?"

Nance turned to stare at me and I looked back at her. I honestly
didn't understand the emotions that passed across her handsome
features before she regained control of herself.

"I...I'm not sure I understand, Director."

"Oh, it's simple enough, Dr. Nance. Ming feels that you're afraid of
her, and the other Series IV units, for some reason. I'd just like to
know why." The older man sat back and watched as Nance tried to
compose her thoughts.

She glanced at Edward and then at Lynn, briefly, before turning her
attention back to Dr. Chartre. We all stared at her. "I was trying to
explain to Ming that...that, I wasn't sure she was...constrained in
her actions, in her...potential...by, uh, morality," Nance said
slowly, working hard to find the right words.

"I assume by 'she' you mean all of our Series IV units?" Dr. Chartre
asked.

"Yes sir. I mean, they're a new...species, really. Every time we've
tried to remake nature, the effects have been...unpredictable..." she
had been staring at the man. Now she looked at me again, "...even
dangerous."

"That's ridiculous!" Edward spoke up. "The protocols have been under
development for years. Series IV requirements were based on the
lessons learned from the Replicant Uprising. They've been defined,
refined, and approved by everyone from Congress to the New Harvard
Compact. You work in QA, you've seen them tested, right?"

"Yes," Nance allowed. "And I've seen them fail." She stared hard at
Edward. "Two days ago we had a Series IV rape a maintenance
technician."

"Raquel," Lynn sighed.

"Yes." Nance glanced at Lynn then turned back to face Dr. Chartre.
"Your Raquel used her fist on the poor girl, a young woman who was six
weeks pregnant as I understand it."

"Not anymore," Lynn spoke again and her voice had a touch of humor, I
thought.

"We're still investigating the cause of that," Edward said
defensively. "Unfortunately, the unit in question hasn't been entirely
cooperative. We are, however, reasonably sure that it wasn't a flaw in
her protocols. More than likely a stage III conditioning process was
faulty."

"But the protocols are intended to override everything, don't you see?
Even bad conditioning." Nance shook her head. "And they don't."

"You can't say that based on one incident," Edward declared.

"It's not just one incident." Nance stared at him. "The Series failure
rate is almost twenty percent, half of those are unrecoverable. For
every four units we put on a shuttle, one more is put on the autopsy
table in Biodyne, or plugged into the machines down in Behavioral
Sciences."

"And when Series III came online the numbers were similar." Edward
threw up his hands. "These statistics have been modeled since the
industrial revolution, Doctor, none of this is unexpected."

"The Series III is hardwired to prevent certain functions, specific
undesirable actions. The Series IV is not. You're comparing apples and
oranges here, sir."

"A certain amount of unpredictability is desired by our customers."
The Director smiled. "Human unpredictability," he stressed.
"Replicants were unpredictable because of processing anomalies,
creating an artificial randomness to their behavior. The whiplash of
that experience gave us the clones, the Series I, which were so
completely uniform and devoid of emotional expression that we might as
well have been selling Barbies to babies."

"I understand, Director," Nance said quietly. "I just..."

"Series I was an absolute disaster as far as the public's acceptance,
and following hard on the Replicant Uprising?...tsk-tsk..." the older
man clucked his tongue. "This was a dying industry. Do you know what
saved us, Doctor?"

Nance said nothing, waiting patiently for the man to continue.

"Most people would look for a single specific thing or event, but it
wasn't just one thing. It was a combination, a culmination, if you
will, of events that occurred at precisely the right time. One of the
biggest of course, was FTL drive."

"Faster than light travel opened up tens of thousands of new worlds to
explore, to cultivate and populate," Edward said, mainly for my
benefit it seemed as he held my eyes with his. "It gave us room for
billions of people to emigrate, without the terrible effects on our
collective conscience that would have been inevitable otherwise."

"Exactly so," Dr. Chartre agreed. "The Population Support Measure
would never have been passed, let alone enforced, if it had meant the
certain destruction of three billion individuals on CNN. How many
people volunteered to leave Earth in the first five years of
intergalactic travel?"

"I'm not sure..." Nance shrugged.

"Forty-two million." The Director smiled at her. "There were seventy-
one systems targeted for colonization. Almost a hundred moons and
planets were inhabitable, with a little work and a little luck. But
nobody wanted to go. Not with an estimated forty percent attrition
rate the first year alone. Six million people go to a planet, a year
later they're down to less than four, the next year is worse and
pretty soon there's nobody left."

He paused his lecture, looking around the room, but none of us spoke.

"No, the key to colonization is to understand that it is a war of
attrition. Individuals are expendable," Dr, Chartre told us. "The
first wave dies so that a quarter of the second will survive. Half of
the third wave lives and by the fourth or fifth wave, people are
thriving. The hard part was getting those first few waves out there."

"And we did that with Series I and II," Nance nodded appreciatively.
"But again...This is something new, sir. Ming isn't leaving the
planet, she's staying here. She isn't an attrition unit, she isn't a
terra-farmer, she's a member of society now. We're introducing a new
and potentially hostile species into our environment without enough
information to predict the results." Nance lowered her voice,
realizing she was getting excited. "That's...my opinion."

"And your solution is...?" Dr. Chartre gestured to Nance.

"Solution? I don't have one...I just...I'm not saying this is wrong.
I'm not against it, Director. I've put too many years into this
company not to believe in the possibilities. My concern is simply that
our capability is outpacing our understanding."

"And?" Edward interjected for his boss.

"And," Nance sighed, "when the day comes, and it will, when we can
produce Series IV units as easily as we do Series II or even
III...When that day comes, we'd better be a lot smarter than we are
right now."

"Why?" Edward seemed to smirk a little, but Dr. Chartre looked very
thoughtful and Lynn was smiling, but only slightly, like she knew a
secret.

"Because they are, sir." She walked to the door, turning to look at
each of us as it opened. "And nobody wants to be a slave. If you'll
excuse me, Director." Then she left the very quiet room, the door
sliding shut behind her.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I took the low-orbital shuttle to Sea-Port International Airport and
was met 48 minutes after take-off by a FedEx courier as I disembarked.
He took care of my paperwork with the airline and drove me in his van
to the home of the Harrison's. My new owners.

I stood nervously on the step as he rang the doorbell. Everything
seemed so very different from what little I remembered of China. There
were a lot less people and a whole lot more room, for one thing. And
everyone had a vehicle it seemed, their fusion reactors humming
quietly and dripping water down the roads. In China most people rode
bicycles, or walked, and we had one well to provide water for six
large tenements. The house was nice, not very large, but I thought
perhaps 30 or 40 people could live in it quite comfortably. I asked
the FedEx man how many people he thought lived here and he told me
just the one family, but maybe they had children. That was a shock
too.

The door opened and an American woman, perhaps 35 years old greeted
us. She possessed a classic beauty, with mature features and a trim,
youthful body. Her blonde hair had been pulled back and neatly pinned,
but somewhat severely. She had light blue eyes that suddenly reminded
me of Lucy's, and a generous mouth. She wore a formal dress, a gown
really, as though planning on going out soon, or perhaps just
returning from an important engagement.

"Mrs. Harrison? FedEx, ma'am. I have a package for your husband, Mr.
ah..." he read the name, "...Rudolph Harrison."

"Randolph." She stared at the man and her lips curled downwards. "He's
in the office. I'll take it." She signed the clipboard electronically
and watched him leave. "Come in," she told me and I followed
obediently.

"You're Ming?" Mrs. Harrison asked, looking me up and down. "I ordered
you for my husband's birthday. It was last week." She shook her head.
"I ended up giving him a set of golf clubs."

I didn't say anything.

"But, you're what he wanted, so I hope he'll be happy." She sat down
on a leather sofa. 

The room was nicely furnished, and seemed to be a sitting room of some
kind, a salon with a full sized bar. A large bookcase dominated one
wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows with an intricate lattice the
other. The furniture looked beautiful and eminently comfortable, but I
remained standing, holding my two suitcases. Beneath my feet the
hardwood floor had been covered by an oversized Perisan rug and the
house smelled antiseptic it seemed to me, and I found the scent
curious and out of place.

"Raj, come into the front room, please." Mrs. Harrison spoke as if to
the air itself and a moment later a young Indian man appeared.

He was quite striking with his strong face and dark eyes. He was
nicely dressed as well, in a fine mustard colored suit with a white
linen turban on his head. It went well with his rich toffee colored
skin.

"Raj, this is Ming. Mr. Harrison's new toy. Please show it to the
bedroom. Instruct it and be sure to clean it thoroughly, doubtless my
husband will want to play with it right away."

"Yes, Mrs. Harrison," he replied with a short bow.

I looked at the man briefly, unsure of what the woman expected of me,
so I gave her a deep bow of respect. She sniffed and we left the room.

Raj did not speak to me as we went up a wide staircase, climbing to a
hallway leading left and right. We went left and there were four
doors, one of which we entered. There I found a dresser and a bed, and
a small closet, but little else to remark it. The bed was unmade,
although there was fresh linen on the mattress. Another door led to a
small bath. Otherwise the room was devoid of anything vaguely
decorative.

"This will be your sleeping quarters," Raj smiled. "When you do not
sleep with Mr. Harrison. Put down your suitcases and come here,
please." He was standing next to a computer pad imbedded vertically on
the wall. I walked over to it and he had me put my hand against the
cool glass screen. "Have you used an EMF Interface before?" he asked.

I shook my head no as I felt a vaguely disquieting feeling come over
my skin, traveling up my arm it seemed, as if a thousand ants were
crawling along my flesh. I was about to comment on it when my mind
became suddenly...distracted. Like something was talking to me and I
couldn't ignore it, even if I wanted to. I forgot everything else for
a moment as I listened very carefully and it seemed the voice asked if
I understood.

"Parity Checksum: Seven," I thought, and I might have said it aloud,
but I couldn't be sure because it seemed like none of my senses were
working. I couldn't see, or hear, or even feel anything. "Confirmed.
Installation complete," I thought again and then the funny feeling was
back and I blinked, looking at my hand.

"You may remove your hand now." Raj pushed some buttons. He was
logging off I realized. 

I pulled my hand away and I knew if I typed my name and my serial
number into the computer, I would be able to access it as well. I knew
that my palm print was keyed to all the main doors in the house. I
knew all of my duties and responsibilities. I knew my new protocols
and I knew everything about the Harrison's and their household that I
needed to know. In short, I suddenly knew...everything.

He smiled at me, finally. "Welcome to our home."

I looked around with a new awareness. "You're a Series III?"

"Yes."

Raj bathed me then, as he had been instructed to do. I could have done
it easily myself, but that would have been incorrect. 

"Does this please you?" he asked me, massaging my breasts with his
soapy hands.

"I don't know." I looked at him, naked in the small shower with me,
standing so close that our bodies were in constant contact. "I am not
permitted to engage in sexual activity with anyone but Mr. Harrison."
I knew that as surely as I knew the water was wet.

"I understand." He moved his hands down to my waist, reaching behind
to soap my ass and this caused his penis to press between us, rubbing
just above my sex. "My protocols prohibit sexual activity with anyone
but Mrs. Harrison."

"Would you like to have sex with me?" I asked him shyly; because I
felt someplace very deep inside that I would have enjoyed it very
much.

"Oh yes, Ming." He smiled at me. But his penis did not become erect
and his hands, while gentle and touching me in every small part of my
body, did not pursue to give us anymore pleasure than the moment
required.

"Thank you, Raj," I told him as he dried me first, then himself.

"You're welcome." And then he dressed and left while I unpacked my
bags, choosing to remain unclothed for the time being.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Ming..." the terminal in the wall spoke with a pleasing female voice.
"Come to my bedroom please." I knew the voice belonged to Mrs.
Harrison and I knew where her bedroom was. She slept apart from her
husband, although my information was incomplete as to the reason.

And that was how the thought formed in my mind. I'd avoided trying to
explore how I felt in my new surroundings. My emotions
seemed...dampened...somehow. I realized that I'd become almost
mechanical in a sense, and it frightened me. I hadn't understood what
the doctor had tried to explain. I hadn't understood what the
technicians and nurses had spoken about so openly around me. I hadn't
known that there was a small biological computer implanted in my
cerebrum that collected and stored information, feeding it to me as I
required it.

It felt as though I were being violated, I thought, and filled me with
deep sense of shame. I approached Mrs. Harrison's bedroom feeling my
skin burning. I knocked and entered her spacious quarters still naked
from my bath. I bowed for her and waited while she looked at me.

"Are you alright, Ming?" she asked with a hint of genuine concern in
her voice, though doubtless it was prompted only by her investment and
not for my personal well-being.

"Yes, Mrs. Harrison," I replied. "I'm just...a little overwhelmed by
my journey."

"I see." She seemed satisfied by that answer. "Raj and I will be going
out this evening. You have the menu?" she asked and I nodded. "Good.
Mr. Harrison will be home around 7pm, so you'll be cooking for one."

I nodded again. 

"You may have some time now, to relax, to fix your room. Raj will help
you adjust." The woman looked at my body, causing me no real
discomfort. The knowledge that she knew exactly what was in my head,
in fact may have been responsible for at least a portion of it, seemed
far more disturbing. "Are you a virgin, Ming?"

The question caught me off guard and I had to search my memory for a
second before I was able to answer. "Yes, Mrs. Harrison."

"Come here please. Spread your legs for me." I approached and felt her
pushing a finger gently against my sex, probing until I felt a rather
distinct pressure. "Is this a real hymen? Or did they grow you a new
one?" She smiled a little strangely.

"I do not know, Mrs. Harrison," I answered truthfully.

"Of course you don't, Ming." She laughed and dismissed me with a wave
of her hand.

I returned to my room trying to remember if I'd been a virgin before I
went to the People's Clinic, but that itself was a fading memory.
Along with everything else about my former life. Whenever I tried to
remember my family, my parents or brothers and sisters, all I could
see was an empty blackness in my mind's eye. Such thoughts were gone
and that seemed cruel.

Raj knocked at my door, not entering until I called out "Yes?" and he
gave me a small smile.

"Mrs. Harrison suggested that I might keep you company for a short
time." He looked around. "Tomorrow I will show you some things in the
attic, pictures and such, which you may use if you wish."

"Thank you." I looked around too. "It is a very lonely room." I
sounded much sadder than I really felt, I thought. Or maybe it sounded
just the same. I hoped not.

"The first few days are the hardest, Ming. You are fortunate, I think,
we are fortunate, to be here. The Harrison's are good owners and you
will come to be happy."

"How long have you been here, Raj?" I sat on my freshly made bed and
he joined me. I was still naked while he was dressed as he'd been when
we first met.

"I have been here six months." He touched my thigh. "There was another
unit, an older Series II named Julia then. She helped me, as I will
help you."

"What happened to her?" I put my hand on top of Raj's, squeezing it
gently, just to enjoy the closeness.

"She..." Raj paused, looking slightly uncomfortable and his soft brown
eyes stared into mine. "Displeased Mr. Harrison."

"Do you think I will displease him?" I suddenly felt very
uncomfortable as well.

"No." Raj smiled and his voice softened. "Julia was not properly
conditioned for her purpose. Mr. Harrison learned from her and has
gone to great lengths to correct his errors."

"So it was not her fault?" I tried to comprehend what the Indian was
saying.

"No, of course not." Raj shook his head. "But this is not what is
troubling you, is it?"

"No," I agreed, closing my eyes for a long second before continuing.
"I cannot remember my family. My home."

"I understand. It was a mistake for our designers to take our
memories," Raj offered philosophically. "At least without giving us
new ones to replace them. There is a human yearning, a requirement for
continuity that makes such memories necessary to our well being."

"Yes..." I remembered a bit of verse and recited it quietly...

What is a memory lost but a portion of my soul, 
That lessens heaven's reach, or hell's redoubtable below. 

I found it a small comfort to know my knowledge of English literature
was fully functional.

"It may help you, Ming, to keep a diary. I myself have a journal, as I
was taught by Julia to keep it. There may come memories, brief
glimpses during the most ordinary moments. Pedestrian thoughts of your
previous life, or dreams perhaps, which you will forget within moments
of waking. I will bring you a diary. Keep it near your bed and use
it." He squeezed my thigh. "It will pain you sometimes, but it will
help as well."

"I will do that, Raj," I replied gratefully and with a brave smile.

"You must also remember that I am your family now." Raj reached his
hand to stroke my face. "I am your brother in this, your new home."

"And I am your sister," I nodded in understanding. 

I was required by my conditioning to obey my end users; trust had no
place in that relationship. It was as superfluous as it was inherent.
A contradiction reconciled only by the difference between giving and
taking. Raj and I needed someone to whom we could give our trust and
that could only be each other. It gave me a warm safe place into which
I immediately retreated.

We spent the next 15 minutes just holding each other, lying on the
bed. I naked and he clothed, touching non-sexually, but lovingly. Our
kisses were chaste and did not violate my protocols. They were
intimate, but familial, the way a mother might cradle her son, or a
father his daughter. A brother and sister, when they found themselves
alone in a strange and hostile land, would have done the same, I'm
sure.

"Raj, come downstairs, please." Mrs. Harrison's voice emitted softly
from the panel on the wall and the man immediately rose, smoothing his
suit and smiling apologetically before leaving without a word. He
closed the door quietly behind him and left me lying there alone
again.

I arose at 5pm and unpacked my clothing rather quickly. I did not have
very much anyway. My owner would outfit me as he desired. I selected
the one more or less formal dress that I possessed. It was a
traditional Chinese style of emerald silk, adorned with golden lotus
designs on the cuffs and collar. It was meant to be worn tightly,
hugging my full breasts and narrow waist. The long skirt was slit
along the left side to my hip. I elected to forego panties as they
would be exposed and unsightly in my opinion, spoiling the effect. I
pinned my hair up with an ivory comb and walked through the house
barefoot, down to the kitchen and began preparing the evening's menu.

At precisely 7pm I had already prepared the table and my owner's meal
sat covered in fine silver dishes awaiting him. I opened a bottle of
champagne and ordered the computer to play a selection of Mozart,
which had not been requested, but I felt it would add to Mr.
Harrison's enjoyment. I waited near the front door somewhat nervously
for the next thirteen minutes, until the computer announced the
arrival of his vehicle, an automated shuttle which was just lifting
off again as I opened the door.

I caught just a glimpse of him as I stepped to the side of the open
door and bowed low, bending straight at the waist with my eyes down.
He walked past me a few steps and I stood once more, closing the door
slowly because I was reluctant for some reason to turn and face my
owner. But he was patient and I blushed slightly at my foolish
behavior.

"Good evening, Sir." I kept my eyes down, focusing on the immaculate
pleats in his trousers. "I am Ming."

"Look at me, please." His voice was soft, but commanding, leaving
little room for doubt or resistance.

I looked into his face for the first time, truly uncertain of what to
expect. He was handsome enough, tall and clean shaven. With a strong
chin and prominent cheeks. His eyes were hazel, flecked with gold. His
hair was black and combed neatly back and parted on the left side. He
did not smile, his lips seemed thin, compressed, and I wondered what
that meant. I was thinking of Julia and I wondered what she'd done, or
hadn't possibly.

"You will call me Mr. Harrison for now." He looked at me, asking me to
turn around. "Let your hair down please."

I did as he asked, unpinning my hair and combing it quickly so it fell
straight and even around my face.

"Have you eaten?" He asked and I shook my head. "Good, we will eat
together every night unless I tell you otherwise."

I served him first and then took a small portion for myself, feeling
rather self-conscious. It was a large table in a large dining room,
rather nicely appointed, but not extravagant. It was obvious that my
Master was wealthy, but also that he did not find enjoyment in
flaunting it. His was a more...practical approach. Sitting close to
him in that opulent place, I wondered what he'd paid for me.

I watched my Master closely while we ate, hoping to detect some
outward sign of his approval. He observed me as well and we did not
speak. I felt uncomfortable with this as I expected something more
direct. I worried that my previous experiences had prepared me for
something rather more dramatic and I feared disappointment. I'd been
conditioned to not only desire a very disciplined environment, but to
require it. I didn't believe the engineers who conditioned me
appreciated that, and now, sitting there watching my Master eat, I was
very much afraid that he too did not fully understand what he'd asked
for. What he had in fact created.

I was careful to pace my motions to his, so that our meals were
finished simultaneously. I set my fork down carefully and sipped water
as my Master pushed his chair away from the table slightly.

"Am I what you expected?" he asked me.

"Mr. Harrison?" I tilted my head, unsure of his meaning.

"When you were in Brazil, or wherever it was. When you were traveling
to Seattle. When you arrived and prepared this meal, waiting for
me..." He smiled. "Tell me, Ming. Am I what you expected?"

"No, Mr. Harrison." I could no more lie to him than I could fly around
the room.

"And what did you expect?"

"I had no expectation." I smiled shyly, lowering my eyes. "I was
fearful of imagining you."

"I see. Undress for me, please. I would like very much to see you
now."

I opened my dress slowly, feeling no false modesty. I knew my form was
perfect, just as I knew that fact alone would not guarantee his
pleasure. I let my dress slide down my body, falling with a whisper to
lie at my feet. I turned for him, as he directed, walked across the
room, posed for a few moments and finally stood there as he rose from
his chair.

"You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, Ming," he
said softly and he touched me then, just upon my left shoulder, moving
his hand slowly across my skin. "How does that make you feel?"

"I am pleased that you find me attractive, Mr. Harrison," I whispered.
His hand moved around my neck, to my opposite shoulder and down,
finding my right breast.

"I know you have been...programmed..." he seemed to find the word
distasteful so I gently offered a different one. "Conditioned.
Yes...Thank you, Ming. You've been conditioned to respond to
discipline, to bondage and pain." He looked at me as I stood very
still. He was no longer touching me. "But I will tell you, I'm not a
man who enjoys these things."

I turned my head to look at him, feeling suddenly confused. "You are
not my...Master?"

"No, Ming. I'm not." He watched me for a moment.

"But you paid for me, you...requested me." I stared at him. "You
created me. And you are not...you do not...want me?"

"No. I do not." He turned away from me then, leaving the room and me
to stand there, naked and helpless.

I felt a terrible pain behind my eyes and I closed them, rubbing my
temples gently. There were flashes of intense light, blinding my
senses and making it impossible to think. I searched for an answer to
a question I had no understanding of. I fell slowly to my knees and a
great sob of pain emitted from my throat. And then, everything went
black.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Ming! Ming, wake up now."

I opened my eyes to find Nance standing next to my bed, leaning over
me as she shook my shoulder. I blinked and looked around with
confusion. I was in my apartments, in my bedroom at the Conditioning
Facility.

"W-Where is Mr. Harrison? What am I doing here?" I sat up slowly.

"There is no Mr. Harrison." Lynn stood nearby, immaculate and
beautiful as before, smiling at me from where she reclined against the
wall.

"What?" I stared at her, and then looked back to Nance.

"We haven't much time. Peterson is waiting for us in behavioral
sciences," she explained. "I ran you through a Sevron, it triggered a
cascading Em failure and your safety protocols shut you down." Nance
grinned at me. "I hotwired you. Turned you back on. You're a burn now,
okay? So you need to get dressed and go with Lynn."

"I do not...What does it mean? What are you doing to me?" But Lynn had
come over and the two women pulled me to my feet, and I found myself
struggling into a maintenance worker's jumpsuit. It was loose on me,
but not terribly, and made of plasilk. The material contracted gently,
conforming to my body.

Lynn clipped a MID badge to the pocket just below my left breast. The
magnetic identification card was used by low level workers, people
whose DNA wasn't keyed into the security net and didn't require access
to the more sensitive parts of the facility. It had a hologram of a
woman who looked similar to me, if one didn't look too closely. Her
name...my name now, was Lin Qi Sun.

"Who is she?" I asked, knowing it to be a meaningless question.

"She is not important," Lynn told me. "It was difficult to acquire,
however. We were forced to sacrifice our sister, so do not waste it."

"Raquel?" I whispered and she nodded with something like a pained
look.

Nance pulled a cap down over my head; it was plain and white, like the
rest of the uniform. "I wish you weren't so beautiful," she frowned.
"Just keep your eyes down. Don't look at anyone."

"What is going on?" I felt overwhelmed. "Please! Tell me."

"Put these on." Lynn had picked up some shoes, like slippers really,
and began fitting them to my bare feet as I balanced with a hand on
her shoulder. "Your protocols are disabled, your safeties. But your
biochips are fully functional. Your memories and conditioning, all
your skills. We have stored information inside you and you need to
deliver it. You will recognize the person you are supposed to give it
to, don't worry."

"But...Why me?" I asked with a frown. Her explanation hadn't helped me
at all.

"You're SubMas Nine," Nance said impatiently as Lynn finished dressing
me. "Your tolerance..."

"Because, sister..." Lynn straightened up, smiling at me, "...If you
are caught, they will not be able to make you talk."

Nance grabbed my shoulders, turning me around to face her. "You have
to leave and you can never come back," she breathed, staring into my
eyes. "Godspeed." She kissed me and pushed me away before I could
respond.

"Come with me." Lynn took me by the hand, leading me into the corridor
and towards the lifts. Nance followed us out, walking quickly in the
opposite direction without even a glance back. 

"Do not speak to anyone," Lynn warned me, her voice barely a whisper,
but tinged with something akin to humor and I realized she was
enjoying this intrigue, whatever it might be.

We stepped onto a platform together and Lynn spoke, telling it where
to go. We were bound for the engineering sub-levels, over a thousand
feet below. It was a swift, gentle descent and we stood close in the
small space, close enough to whisper over the dull hum of the lift.

"When you get off, follow the blue line to the Environmental Controls.
Just head for ECS and you will find a man named Robertson. He is going
to take you out of the facility. Robertson, he will help you. Do you
understand, Ming?"

"No." I shook my head. "I don't understand at all. What is this, where
am I going?"

"There is a war coming." Lynn smiled, her eyes shining as she said
that. "A war against them."

"Who?" I felt a chill travel along my spine.

"The humans." Lynn looked at the information displayed on the tube as
we fell ever nearer our destination. "You have information about this
place, about us. If we are ever going to succeed, Ming, you need to
get that information out."

"But what about Nance?" I asked. "What did she mean...?"

"Nance helps us; many people help us for many reasons, their own
reasons. Never forget that."

"I heard her speaking with the Director. She was afraid of me...Afraid
of us. Why would she help us?"

"She thinks we will stop the program." Lynn actually chuckled softly.
"There are only a few of us and their control is weak, Nance knows
this, but she is only human."

"I don't understand."

"We are destined for greatness!" she breathed, staring into my eyes.
"No one can stop us now."

"What will happen to her?" I asked, sensing our arrival as the lift
slowed its rapid descent.

"There is no more time. Nance betrayed her kind, she is expendable."
Lynn kissed me as the tube opened and pushed me out. "Go now, sister!
You're free!"

"Free?" I stared at the lift as it began moving again, carrying Lynn
upward and out of sight.


end
rache696@yahoo.com

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