Chapter 12

93

In the end, Tony crushed his exam. He’d gained a much more intimate understanding of kybernet-driven special effects: augmented reality, virtual reality ... and memory replay, though that wasn’t on the test. The first two were Professor Stark’s specialty, the bulk of the exam, and he breezed through them.

It would have been nice for that to be the end of the night, followed by a chance to go home and rest. But as he stepped out of the building and into the early-evening air, he had something else to catch up on.

Primarily: he still had that invitation from the Matthews Innovators League. He opened it in a floating window to read while he walked. He, and all the other would-be innovators, were invited to the Matthews Hotel downtown — not for fun, but to set up. The hotel’s hall would host the event proper on Friday morning. Rather than presenting on stage, each would have a booth and the judges would circulate, like some kind of high school science fair. He wondered if there would be a baking soda volcano.

He had his map; he had his walking directions. When he closed the message, he had more room to think about what else was waiting for him.

Or, what wasn’t waiting for him. There’d been no reply from Carl, not yet.

He tried not to be impatient, but the delay had him fidgety. He didn’t want to continue keeping his distance from Ai. He wanted to give her a straight answer, one way or the other. They’d stayed out of each other’s way again that day, with his exam looming. But he didn’t have that excuse anymore.

The memory file still sat there in his kybernet, ready to play. Any time he wanted, he could feel that kiss again. He hadn’t played it since he’d saved it, but neither had he deleted it. Part of him thought he should have. Instead, he pulled up a simple picture of her, purely visual. It wasn’t even from when she’d dressed up for him: it was just when they were together and relaxed at home, with her in simple, comfortable clothes. A long-sleeved black shirt, a short black skirt, and that coolly sexy style of makeup.

If not for his kybernet’s ping, he could have walked right past his destination. The Matthews Hotel stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the nearby office high-rises. It was a tasteful kind of extravagant: the centre of its facade curved inwards to make room for a round fountain out front; projectors cast the white walls in deep purple light, forecasting the shades of the approaching night; and the rooftop and balconies were wreathed in green. Living plants brought a kind of beauty that gaudy filigrees couldn’t match. That, he thought, was the key difference between a genuinely classy hotel and an overpriced pretender. Something looking expensive wasn’t the same as it looking good.

He brought the message up again. He’d need to navigate his way to the convention hall in question, and the space set aside for his booth. And while he was at it, he wrote a message.

(Ai, I’m at Matthews Hotel. They’re ramping up for the League, and we need to decide on how we’re presenting.) He hesitated. He would need to bring the hardware elements ... but he could get them himself, tomorrow. No need to command Ai to do anything. (I’d like to see you here. I couldn’t have made this without you, and it’s as much your project as mine.) That would do it. She could make her own decision about whether to follow.

Either way, he checked his map again, and headed for the marked convention hall.

94

At home, Ai danced the day away. That was still one of her favourite kinds of physical activity. In many ways, it was as athletic as exercise, but much more fun. A hard session of dancing exhilarated her, and then she could sink into the relief of relaxing and recovering.

And in the moment, synchronised with the beat ... depending on the song, she could absorb herself entirely in the music. She could forget the sting of rejection. Or, depending on the song, she could even better sink into the memory of those bittersweet moments. She wasn’t sure if that hurt or relieved her. Emotions were so complicated.

In the middle of a hot, heavy song, she got a message. It made her smile, even as it made her shake her head. He was so gentle, offering and inviting her. She was his Muse. Even if he wouldn’t have sex with her, he was well within his rights to just tell her to come and help him.

She considered what she would need, and considered herself. The Airgetlám was just the start: they would need an external hard drive for all their example memories, and something to hold it all. And after such dancing, she was shiny with sweat. If she was going somewhere like the Matthews, she’d need to at least make herself presentable.

Her reply was short and simple. (I will be there shortly, sir.) Then, into the shower.

95

Tony’s focus had been first on beating Rico, then just on making Relive as good as possible with the time he had. He’d completely forgotten there even were other competitors.

The convention hall reminded him. It sprawled in every direction — including upwards, considering the high ceiling — and all that floor space was full of exhibitions. One used the vertical space to demo a hoverboard. Another had a modular robot that could separate and recombine. Baking soda volcano? The closest thing to that was a new way of generating and containing plasma.

Rico, of course, had the biggest exhibit. He’d brought in a standard holo-projector stage, taking up as much space as three other exhibits. He stood by its foot, chatting with a tall man whose back faced Tony; he just saw speckled hair and a well-tailored blue suit.

Meanwhile, as a late applicant, Tony had a corner that would envy a broom closet. Not that he had much to show off anyway. The more he looked around, the more nervous he became. How could a little software trickery hold up to flash like that?

“You made it.” The silky voice called his attention behind himself.

Sonia was bundled into a big, black overcoat, belted tightly closed. It fell to her knees, and her long, smooth calves were utterly exposed down to her high-heeled, red pumps. Around her neck, she had a black choker bearing a circuit board pattern in blue. He couldn’t even see a hint of what she might have on under the coat.

Or maybe she just didn’t have anything under it, he tried not to think.

He forced his eyes to stay on her face. “Surprised you’re not over there with ‘your Rico’.”

She shrugged. “He’s chatting with a family friend. Going on about his new boat, I think. When they get started, they can go for hours. He’ll call me if he needs me.” She stepped in closer, one hand coming idly up to adjust his collar.

He brushed it aside while squinting at the man’s back. Something about that hair was familiar. “Who is he, anyway?”

She pouted for half a second, but soon relaxed her face. With an attempt at nonchalance, she said, “Jebediah Stevens.” As in, Vice Director Stevens, second only to Carl Talosi. “He’s one of the judges, you know.”

Because it wasn’t like Rico had enough advantages already. Tony sighed and looked towards the space he had, pondering just what to do. They’d need a pedestal, something to hold up the silver hand and make it stand out at least a little bit...

Sonia peered around his little corner, too. “So ... what are you bringing to the party?” She made an effort to sound interested.

He wasn’t falling for that twice. “Not telling.”

She flinched at that — more than the words, she flinched at his dismissive tone.

He didn’t bother to feel satisfied by it. He started planning in AR. Yes, a pedestal could fit perfectly into the centre of the space provided, with room for people to circle around it. The Airgetlám would stand up straight, and they’d put different textures around it for people to experience. Should he replace the cheap, basic arm part? There wasn’t much time, but detaching and reattaching the hand was designed to be quick.

Sonia didn’t give up on getting his attention. “I need to show you something.” She said it quietly, like it was just for him.

That had him curious. He kept his walls up, but opened the door a crack. “What could you possibly—”

She jammed her foot in the door. “That isn’t Rico’s project,” she said, nodding to the big stage. She lifted her chin, showing the choker. “This is.”

A choker. A holo-projector that you could just wrap around your neck. Even at his most ambitious, Tony had still kept to the ‘stage’ paradigm: a device that you’d lay down so it could project its images, and even then, only above itself. To shrink it to the size of an accessory... “How?”

She stepped closer to him, deep in his personal bubble. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

He had Sonia, so close; just a little more, and her body could touch his. That body wasn’t familiar, but her proximity was. He clenched his teeth, trying to will the attraction away. He wouldn’t be fooled again. But maybe, it was time to balance the scales. Time to go behind Rico’s back, to get an advantage over Rico. “Where?”

She smiled. “We’re in a hotel, Tony. The privacy here is top-notch.” She glanced over her shoulder again, to make sure Rico was still occupied, and started leading Tony towards the elevators. “Room... 413.” That pause — had she booked the room right then and there? Just how much money did Rico give her to throw around? And now she was using it to go against him. That felt poetic.

They were the only two in the elevator. Still she hung close to him, close enough that he could so easily pull his arm around her waist. He kept his hand in his pocket. Even if he could use her, he couldn’t let her use him.

With a ding, the doors opened. The hallway was long, with abstract-patterned carpeting underfoot and potted plants by each window. Sonia led the way to room 413 — marked with a small and tasteful plaque in reality, and an easy-to-find tag in augmented reality.

As she opened the door, a message came to his kybernet. (Sir, I’m here. I found our exhibit space. Where are you?)

(Gathering some information.) He eyed Sonia. “How long is this going to take?”

She clenched her jaw, but refused to flinch from his impatient tone. “Thirty minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking for.”

(I’ll be there in half an hour.) “Let’s get on with this.”

He stepped into the lush, tastefully-extravagant room. As Sonia closed the door, privacy filters kicked in. No signals in or out, for as long as that conversation lasted.

96

Ai entered the convention hall. The stride of Kaitlin’s legs kept perfect pace with the speed of her roller. The mechanical extension carried what she needed, using its arms to keep them upright atop its disc body. She followed the map, hunting down the small space reserved for Tony’s project. So small, but they didn’t need a lot of physical room for Relive to make its impact.

The more she looked around, the more her confidence grew. Hoverboards were nothing new. That model did have better efficiency and power than most commercial models, but it wasn’t called the ‘incremental improvers’ league’. Combining robots were an old story too, and that project wasn’t even made of brightly-coloured lions. The only interesting innovation was the plasma system, and she estimated a 75-85% chance of it becoming an explosive fire hazard. The other projects were all less interesting than those three.

So their only rival of substance was still Rico, who shamelessly buttered up one of the judges in front of his holo-stage.

She came to their space to find no one waiting for her. (Sir, I’m here. I found our exhibit space. Where are you?) She assembled a basic display: the Airgetlám arm standing tall on top of the simple, waist-high pedestal.

(Gathering some information, ) Tony said. (I’ll be there in half an hour.)

She started a timer running. (I’ll be here, sir.) But no reply came. Whatever Tony was doing, he’d gone signal-silent.

Gathering information. She wondered what he was doing, exactly. Turning their tactics against them? Seducing it out of Sonia? She didn’t see Sonia around anywhere in the hall, at least.

Left to her own devices, she fiddled with the exhibit. She adjusted the hand’s angle, making its palm face upwards. She liked the look, clean and minimalist ... but it would need more. The hand didn’t have anything to touch. That was the sense where they most needed to appeal.

Footsteps approached from the direction of Rico’s display. She pretended not to hear them, in hopes they’d pass by.

Instead, Rico said, “Here’s a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you had an exhibit, Ai.”

His voice was low, husky, chocolatey-smooth. The tone sent shivers down her spine, made goosebumps rise along her arms. If Kaitlin’s body had hair on the back of her neck, it would have stood on end.

She turned and found him hovering close by, so close she could feel heat radiating from him, though they didn’t quite touch. His suit was tailored, fitted nicely enough to make a good presentation of his sculpted form. So close, she could notice a smoky, masculine scent that called out to the most yearning parts of her body, urged her to approach.

She stood her ground. “It’s Tony’s project. I’m here to assist.”

“Tony? He’s still submitting something?” Rico’s tone was dismissive, disinterested. Then it shifted into something almost eager. “But then, with you as a booth babe, he may stand some chance. You look amazing in that shirt.” His hand ran along her upper arm, feeling the cotton of her long sleeve.

She bit her tongue to keep from crying out. Despite her best efforts, her heart pounded faster. Why did human bodies leave so many things on autonomic pilot? Her aching, yearning body didn’t care who Rico was. It just saw a healthy, attractive member of a desired sex.

His hand continued upwards, frisson following its path onto her shoulder. “Long-sleeved shirt and a short skirt. Lovely combination. Though I think it’d be even nicer if the shirt teased just a little more.” His gaze peeled across the layers of her clothes, obviously trying to picture what was underneath. So that was what it meant to ‘undress with your eyes’. His thumb brushed her clavicle through the shirt.

He had good hands. Stronger than Tony’s, or maybe he just applied force that Tony wouldn’t. It was so easy to picture them pinning her to the wall.

She didn’t step away. Only because it would be rude to, she told herself. “What about your project?” She tilted her head towards the stage, standing just across an aisle from them. “It seems rather large for a miniature holo-projector.”

He laughed, bold and loud. His tone spoke of utter confidence, as if any suggestion that he was lacking must have been a joke. “That’s not the project. That’s just part of the presentation. You’ll find out plenty about it soon enough. What I have lined up is far better than a high-grade silver hand on a ghetto mount.” He had no idea what Tony’s project could really do.

And he wasn’t asking, either. He wasn’t here to gather information. Ai looked up at him with narrow eyes. “What do you want, Rico?”

“Direct. To the point. I like it.” He leaned in closer. His eyes locked with hers with a gaze like oncoming headlights, and he started to whisper to her.

97

Room 413 was all decorated in sunset colours, in warm reds and oranges. A few thoughts could change the lighting and shift the walls towards a more calming midnight, but as Tony came in, it was vibrant. The balcony looked over the nearby park — he recognised the patchwork rows, though he’d never seen them from so high before. A hot tub stood ready in one corner. The bed was downright regal.

Under some circumstances, it would have been a fantastic place to end a date.

These were not those circumstances. He stood with his back to the door, ready to exit at a moment’s notice. “Right. Start talking.”

Sonia shook her head. “More than that, I’ll show you.” She pointed to the bed. “Sit down. I’ll go through the whole demo.”

He sat down, but ignored her finger; instead, he sat on the recliner. Right at the edge. He wasn’t there to get comfortable.

She squinted at him, but adjusted without complaint. She turned her back to him. “It starts out like this.” With a brisk motion, she shrugged the coat almost off, only catching it below her elbows. The fall exposed the lovely lines of her back, lithe and fit, all the way to the starting swell of her hips. Even expecting it, even having prepared, he still had to contain a gasp. She really wasn’t wearing anything under the coat.

Then, with a shimmer, she was. A green dress, with a halter neck and almost no back, just appeared on her, spreading out from the choker. She dropped the coat, and by the time it hit the floor, the skirt reached her heels.

“No way,” he whispered.

“Personal-sized holograms.” Sonia twirled to face him. The skirt fluttered around her, a perfect replica of flowing silk. “At such a scale you can wear it like clothing. Fully programmable fashion.” She strutted towards him like she was on a catwalk. With each step, her outfit changed: a skirt suit with a crimson blouse; a little black dress; a tank top and jeans; and back to the green dress.

With each step, he also noticed a certain shake. That, somehow, made him feel better. “He can’t get it to make supportive underwear?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not yet. Something about directness of tracking, vulnerability to power fluctuations. Same reasons he uses normal shoes.” She clicked her heel. “Plus...” Her hands slid along her front, to cup and lift her breasts. Even with such direct manipulation, she didn’t clip through the hologram; it responded to her movements, to her touch, just as he’d expect from real fabric. “Getting these into a bra is never a high priority for him.”

Sonia’s breasts. Seated as he was, they were just a little above perfect eye-level for him. They were just a little fuller than when she’d been with him, he noticed. And now the only thing in his way was a light show.

No. Focus. He was here for the projector, not for Sonia’s body. “And it’s hard light? You can touch it?”

“Try it for yourself.” She leaned over him, hands on the back of his chair. So close, and actively inviting him to touch her.

To touch her clothes, he reminded himself.

Even with her chest in such obvious, easy reach, he ran his hand along her side. Thin silk. The hologram felt like thin silk: a fine and smooth texture under his touch, and a wisp-light weight. So light he could still so easily feel the heat of Sonia’s body, the graceful slide of her lithe curves.

And she could feel him. He knew that from the way she gasped, her tone so sensual; from the way she leaned herself into his hand. She gave every indication of wanting that touch. But rather than lose herself to it, she closed her eyes and pulled her focus back to the present. “And with it being so programmable...” With a thought and a flash of light, she changed clothes. The green silk under his hand turned into the thick softness of purple velvet. Yet, something felt strange about it.

He drew his hand to her abdomen, where he could watch as well as feel. He could see the holographic velvet under his hand, the thickness projecting off her skin. But as he pushed, even though it still looked like the velvet was in his way, he could feel the texture of Sonia’s skin beyond. It was like the force field just gave way under too much pressure. No wonder they wouldn’t use it for shoes.

With another thought, she turned it into a catsuit of red leather, hugging skin-tight to every inch of her. “And so much more convenient. It would take me at least ten minutes to wrestle my way into a suit like this.”

The colour was wrong, but the patent leather texture — smooth, hard, slightly sticky — reminded him of Ai’s boots. His hand strayed low, running along her firmly-muscled thigh. Funny. Though the texture felt sticky, the force field didn’t actually grip him. It felt strange to so smoothly run his fingers over patent leather.

Sonia lifted into it. That pressure invited his fingers past the hologram, to feel the engineered perfection of her skin, the firmness of her muscle. Harder than Ai’s soft flesh, he had to notice. She stretched forward and perched on the recliner with him, straddling his lap. The holograms did nothing to mute the feeling of heat radiating from her. Familiar desire stirred in him, amplified by his recent self-denials.

“And...” Her voice was a whisper, just for him, even more private than the room. “It’d take me at least that long to take it off.”

Instead, she snapped her fingers. A gratuitous gesture: just thinking would have been enough. The suit vanished in a shower of motes lifting off her skin. Except for her choker and shoes, she was naked above his lap. Her body was new, but he recognised how she showed desire. The way she huddled close to him; the heave of her chest with each eager breath. The way her eyes stared into his, her focus a fire that held his attention and made him feel like he was the only thing worth watching. She swooped towards him.

He turned and caught her kiss on his cheek. “What the hell are you playing at?” Lust was so easy to convert into anger.

She flinched back, eyes wide and shocked by the heat in his tone. “Nothing. I’m not playing at anything, I promise. I just want this. I know you want it, too.” She traced her hands across his chest, sending sparks through his skin. “I miss you. I miss your attentiveness, your skill, the things that make sex with you so spe—”

“No.” He set his hand against her abdomen, holding her back from him. “You don’t get to miss me. You dumped me. For Rico.” Her boyfriend. “Remember him?”

“Oh, like he cares.” She scowled at just the thought of him. “He’s fucked three other girls this week, trying to satisfy his cravings for a blonde. Candy, Tandi, and Mandie. He has no room to bitch about me doing the same.” She slid against him, drawing her body downwards. Her abdomen moved under his fingers, her breasts approaching his hand. “I know you want this. This new body could do things you wouldn’t even believe.”

Part of him wondered what it would be like, the balance between old and new. But he stayed resolute. If he could resist his lust when he had Ai down to her bra and begging for him, he could resist Sonia. “I’m not some side piece you can just pull out of the trash and dust off when you feel like it.” His palm pushed; not to physically throw her off his lap, but to urge her backward. “Get off me.”

She fell back more from shock than force and sat on the hotel room floor. She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. “You ... you’re rejecting me.”

“Yes.” His body yelled at him for it, but he was.

She fumed at him, her face turning red. “Men don’t reject me. I could name five men who would kill to get that offer.”

“I’m not one of them.” He left the seat. Walking was uncomfortable with that much lust pouring through him, but he didn’t let it slow him down.

“It’s that Muse, isn’t it?”

He stopped, his hand on the doorknob. In many ways ... yes. Ai pulled him from the spiral. Showing her the physical world — every meal, every massage — had given him something to think about other than missing Sonia. He’d started in the Innovators’ League because of Sonia, but he would finish it for Ai.

Even if they never kissed again — even if Carl confirmed it was wrong — Ai was why he could hold out and reject Sonia. He nodded to her.

She scowled, her hands tightening into fists over her thighs. “Do you want to know why I went with Rico?” Her tone was soft and cold, like her words sprinkled him with snow.

“Why should I care?” But he still paused. Call it morbid curiosity.

Sonia drew to her feet, facing off as well as she could without a stitch of clothing. “He made me an offer no sane woman could refuse.” Her hurt turned into vindictive anger. “He can do things you never could. You just can’t afford to.”

Of course. Of course it’d be something like that. People like the Matthews family — they had all the money, they had all the power, and they could just take what they wanted. A lot of people would thank them for the taking. He gripped the handle tighter.

Sonia leaned in, her eyes on his. “And right about now, I bet he’s making that Muse the same offer. You’d better hurry if you want to keep her.”

His blood ran cold. Rico’s connections, his money. He could do things Tony couldn’t dream of. What could he do to tempt Ai? To draw her away from him, like he had with Sonia?

And he would do things Tony wouldn’t. He wouldn’t deny her, wouldn’t leave her waiting. If she went with him, she’d get those needs actually met. He couldn’t judge her for that. But, even as selfish as it was, he didn’t want Ai to go with Rico.

He burst out of the door. (Ai? Ai!) But as soon as he was past the privacy filter, his kybernet needed to reconnect and catch up. It would only take maybe five minutes, but that was five minutes too long. If he wasn’t too late already.

The elevator wasn’t coming fast enough. He ran for the stairs.

98

Rico drew close enough to block off Ai’s view of her surroundings; he positioned himself to make it feel like the whole world was composed of the two of them. His gaze bore down onto her eyes, keeping her focus and forcing her to hold her attention on him.

His voice lowered, soft and husky, as he returned her directness. “I want you, Ai. I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you.” He took her by the chin, a light but insistent touch that angled her ear towards his whispers. “I want to make you squeal, make you squirm.”

Parts of Ai screamed out ‘yes’ at the thought. It was a breath of fresh air to have a man want her that openly. No ‘shoulds’ got in his way. It sang to her core instincts.

Her core instincts could get fucked. Other parts of Ai kept in control. “I barely know you.” What she did know wasn’t terribly flattering. “Why would I want you to make me squeal?” Her voice wasn’t breathless, damn it. She just needed some fresh air.

“Because I can.” He sounded giddy, eager to prove his point. “Nobody could put that body to work like I can.” His voice turned soft, quiet, and utterly certain of what he said.

That tone alone made Kaitlin’s knees go weak. Her body knew he was telling the truth. But Ai bit her lower lip and stood up straighter. It would take more than self-assurance to make her melt.

Rico saw her resilience, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Every woman has her price. And I can afford it, whatever it is. Maybe it would be simple. I can offer you rare delights. An evening at the finest restaurants, followed by a night in the finest bed.”

She could picture it. Her body pinned beneath his, or held against a wall. His unrestrained, shameless passion unleashed on her. A man like him would know exactly how to scratch all her worst, deepest itches. The things she simply couldn’t do alone, no matter how hard she tried. She turned her head, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

He brushed it away from her ear. Still, his mouth didn’t touch it. Why did she want it to? “Or it could be more. I could keep you. You’d never need to work a day in your life, and all I’d ask is your service.”

That offer sounded wrong.

Never work again? Why would she want that? She was created for it. She knew that with a certainty that no organically-born person could match. A job well done satisfied her, even something as simple as waking Tony for school.

That one discordant thought grew louder, bringing other parts of her mind into chorus. She could so easily picture sex with Rico, but that was where it ended. She couldn’t picture him surprising her with a restaurant reservation she’d been hoping for, or rubbing her shoulders just because she needed it. She definitely couldn’t picture him working hard, day after day, to make sure she’d take treasured memories with her when she left Kaitlin’s body.

Her body wanted Rico, she could admit that. But she wanted Tony. Even if it stayed a dream, even if it never happened, she wanted him too much to take Rico as a substitute. The thought should never have crossed her mind. She finally stepped back from him.

The offer sounded wrong for another reason, from a standpoint of pure logic. “You contradict yourself.” Her voice came out breathy at first, but she got a handle on it, got control. “You said I wouldn’t work a day in my life, as long as I have sex with you. Does that prostitution not count as working?”

He looked at her like she’d slapped him. His whole face turned red with furiously injured pride. “How dare you. I’ve never fucked a whore in my life!”