Chapter 7

49

The next day, Tony didn’t want to get out of bed. His head pounded low but steady, like a carpenter’s hammer. His mouth was a desert. And his stomach was in open revolt.

Worse than that, he remembered the night before. Remembered his hand on the doorknob, remembered what he’d almost done with Ai. He was feeling all the morning-after awkwardness, with none of the satisfaction of having actually had sex. Still, better than the guilt if he had pulled or pushed her into bed.

His door clicked like the hammer of a gun held to his head, but no muzzle flash came. It opened into darkness and Ai padded in, almost silent.

Tony’s brain was sluggish. All he could manage was a murmur. “How... ?” Even that much hurt his throat, his head, and his ears.

(I darkened the windows, sir.) Ai answered him only through the kybernet, the silent link doing nothing to aggravate his senses. (My cameras are sensitive enough to give me a vague image, and I know my way around well enough to fill in the blanks.)

Her cameras. It must have been strange, seeing herself moving in the third person ... but then, didn’t her roller usually work like that already?

Soft sounds came from his nightstand as she set things down. (An electrolyte-rich beverage for hydration, and some anti-inflammatories for your headache. When you’re ready, I’ll make a light salad for breakfast.)

He could have married her then and there.

Half an hour later, Tony had recovered enough to come out. Ai kept the windows shuttered and the lights dim. For breakfast, she made a garden salad. The fresh vegetables and light dressing were easy on the stomach; just what he needed.

Afterwards, he sank back into the couch. “Thanks. That was perfect.”

The light was just enough that he could see her smile. (Thank you. That recipe was your idea.)

He blinked. But with his stomach’s rebellion quelled, he could think better. “That was the recipe I found on Saturday?”

(Correct.) She sat down beside him, close but not touching. (You’d said a vegetarian meal can be light and refreshing ... but that weekends were for ‘fun’ meals. We’ll need to have those chicken wings again.)

He laughed, and it barely hurt his head. “With how much you liked them, definitely.” He distinctly remembered how she had ‘hummed’ her enjoyment ... and with a blush, searched for a change of subject. “Um, any messages?”

(Yes, sir. First is a video message from Kaitlin.) Ai settled close to his side to watch with him.

The window appeared above the coffee table. Kaitlin was on the ship’s deck, stretched out on a chair under the stars. Rather than the scenery, she had her attention on a book, the pages floating at her fingertips. “Hi, guys!” she called. “Can you believe the gift shops here have no hardcopy books?” She swiped her fingers back and forth, ‘turning’ the virtual pages. “It’s just not the same! I want a book I can hold in my hand, you know?”

She laughed as she sat up. “Last day of the cruise, then it’s back to beaches and clubs.” She purred. “The stars have been nice, but I look forward to the evening life. Talk to you later. Miss you! Love you!”

As the message ended, Tony sat back and smiled. “Any more?”

(Three marketing promotions which we can safely ignore, ) Ai said. (I’ve updated our spam filter. Last night’s party has made a significant appearance in social media streams. And—) She paused. (An announcement from Rico Matthews, regarding the Innovators’ League.)

He didn’t feel like dealing with that guy any more than needed. “Summarise, please?”

(There’s a lot of irrelevant self-aggrandising, ) she said. (The fundamental point appears to be that he is changing his project. He’s—) Her eyes went wide. (Sir, he’s making your project. Mini-projectors.)

He froze. He couldn’t have — but no, he remembered, with a rush of shame. He’d told Sonia everything. Hell, he’d given her the schematics. He slumped. “Fuck.” His heart sank; not just the last week of work, but everything he’d put into it before, all wasted.

(Sir, I don’t understand.) Her hands fidgeted in her lap. (You couldn’t even announce your project. How could he re-announce his?)

He rubbed his face. “Probably some edge-case thing where you could still change your project if you’d submitted earlier. But the main reason boils down to, ‘he’s a Matthews, he can do what he wants’.” Back to square one. And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt Kaitlin’s vacation with worry. “We’ll ... let’s only tell Kaitlin when we have a solution, okay?”

(Yes, sir.)

Not that he had any solutions. His head didn’t ache anymore, but it was still sluggish, never mind the distraction of anxiety. “And ... can I have a hug?”

(Yes, sir.) Ai leaned into his side.

They wrapped each other in an embrace. Again, Ai gave him just what he needed. The warmth of her so companionably close; the mix of force in their squeezing arms and her body’s softness ... it let him bleed out some of his tension, and just exist without worrying.

She sighed near his ear, her breath tickling him. “I’m going to miss this,” she murmured. His head had recovered enough, and her voice was so soft, that it didn’t hurt. “I’m going to miss having a body.”

He flinched, arms tightening around her. “You still do. Kaitlin’s not coming back yet.”

“But she will,” she said. “Even if it’s eighteen days from now, she’ll return, and take her body back.”

“We’ll have VR,” he said. “And memories. And your extensions.”

“It’s not the same.” As she shook her head, it rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “VR and memory recordings are hollow. My extensions’ senses don’t work the same. No digital thermoreceptor, no matter how precise, can convey the warmth of a real hug.”

“But why not?” Something itched in his brain.

She shrugged. “You would know better, sir. Maybe the technology just isn’t there yet.”

He deflected that idea with a shake of his head. He remembered his conversation with Professor Stark. “That’s not true. Receptor density has been on par with biological tissue for ten years now. Nobody complains that a bionic hand doesn’t ‘feel the same’ as the original.” The question energised his mind. “VR interacts with the same brain mechanisms as ‘real’ percepts. There’s no reason, no hardware reason the experience should be different...”

She lifted her head, peering at him. “Sir?”

“Unless the reason’s psychological.” That didn’t feel right. He shook his head, trying to jolt his thoughts into place. “Or software.” All at once, it clicked. He took her by the shoulders. “Ai, that’s perfect! I could kiss you!”

“Correct.” The next instant, she was atop his lap, her face close enough they shared breath.

That threw him off, froze him up. “That—” He moved his lips carefully, painfully conscious of how close hers were. “That’s just an expression.”

“Oh.” Ai hovered. “So you’re not going to kiss me?”

He held still, neither approaching nor withdrawing. “I wasn’t planning to.”

She didn’t move.

It would have been oh so easy to get her into bed, wouldn’t it? That she would so readily go for just a slip of the tongue. So to speak. “Th-That means no.” He’d already decided he wouldn’t take advantage.

“Understood.” Yet, she still seemed somehow hesitant as she pulled away and sat beside instead of atop him. “You were saying, sir?”

“Right.” It took him a second to get his train of thought back onto the rails. “There’s no innate, physical reason why virtual sensation should feel ‘hollow’. All the hardware involved is the same. If the problem is in the software — in how those sensations are recorded and transmitted — then we can fix the problem.” He smiled at her. “Reliving a memory recording would be just as good as the hug you recorded.”

“And...” Anyone else would have smirked. Ai’s smile was a softer thing, but no less playful. “It would be quite an innovation.”

“That too.” He squeezed her once more, then hopped to his feet and offered her a hand up. The hangover had cleared from his system, especially in the wake of his new challenge. “Come on. Let’s get started.”

50

“Miss you! Love you!” Kaitlin sank back onto the deck chair as she finished and sent her message. She looked back towards her book, but she had lost the thread. She dismissed it with an unnecessary wave of her fingers and turned her attention to the other messages she’d found waiting.

While she was halfway through responding to friends’ texts, Fergus came up out of the pool. He ran a towel through his hair, but let his athletic, naked body glisten in distracting ways. “You’ve just sent a message to Tony, haven’t you?”

She laughed, peeking up at him over her message windows. “Yeah. How can you tell?”

His gaze dragged slowly over her body. “You always put your clothes back on before you record one.”

Kaitlin shivered, her skin flushing in warm, tingling ways. When Fergus looked at her, she felt really looked at. Like his eyes were spotlights shining on and heating her skin. “Well, I don’t think he’d want to see me naked.”

“Really? Hard to imagine.” It felt like his gaze could drill a hole right through her top. “I know I do.” The gleam in his eyes and hardness of his manhood showed how honest his words were.

She had finished making the video. Conscious of eyes on her — both those of Fergus, and of those honeymooners sitting across the pool — she untied her top, then threw it in his face. “I’m in the middle of something, you know!” Her protest was only a half-hearted tease.

He laughed as he tossed the top aside, his eyes magnetising to her breasts without skipping a beat. “Well, don’t stop on my account.” He cupped her breasts, his touch sending tremors through her core. “I’d hate to interrupt.”

“Pervert.” Her tone was pure approval. The thought of being so casual as to multitask while being playfully molested ... ironically, it made it harder for her to actually focus on the messages. Yet, she didn’t want to actually stop him, either. She could give it a shot.

While Fergus grabbed a bottle of lotion, she checked a new music recommendation from Alex. While his kneading fingers made her chest shine, she complimented Jenny’s new dress — she had to rewrite that, as an ‘Oh, yes!’ slipped into the text. While he straddled her body—

Okay, no, she couldn’t multitask during that. It took all her attention: his sturdiness and weight above her, his hands squeezing down on her slick breasts, his solid shaft throbbing in her cleavage.

And the cheeky look in his eyes as he began to thrust softly back and forth, asking, “I’m not distracting you, am I?”

She huffed, her cheeks scarlet. Damn her buttons. She squeezed her eyes shut, but it barely helped. She could still feel him fucking her tits, gradually faster; could still hear the pleasure in his laboured breathing. And her imagination filled in those honeymooners still watching her. She could hear their gasps, something between surprise and wonderment. The feeling of being such an object of desire, even just for those watching ... she squeezed her thighs together, trapping her own rising heat.

The horny fog made her mind sluggish. It took three tries to read her message list and process what she was looking at. Huh, a message from Nita. Something about Ai going to a party, with pictures attached.

“Whoa.” It just slipped out, as soon as she saw the images. “I look hot as a goth.”

Fergus slowed down. His hips still dragged back and forth, but gave him more room to think. He peered down at her, trying to connect her sun-bronzed beach body with any idea of ‘goth’. “Show me.” His voice heaved with passion, his tone just shy of a moan.

She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. That picture wasn’t the body she’d rented out for vacation fun, the body she shared with this fling. But in her addled state, the ill-advised risk just made the idea sound hotter. At least she took a moment to crop most of her face out. The final picture only showed from her soft, black-painted lips, down the fitted black clothes that flattered her curved, fit figure and light skin, all the way down to the tight leather boots.

Fergus liked it. She could tell by how his eyes popped, his mouth hung open — and of course, by how he came, then and there. His seed gushed between her breasts and along her collarbone, standing out starkly white on her tanned skin. While those blasts heated her on the outside, the thrill of bringing on his climax made her core blaze.

He slid to sit beside her, his body lethargic in the wake of orgasm, while hers was still primed and intense. She still felt spotlights on her. Across the pool, the other couple still watched. She could swear the wife, a doe-eyed brunette, looked more intensely than her blue-haired husband.

But as the semen started cooling on her skin, Kaitlin’s head started to clear. She’d just let herself be played with like a toy, and enjoyed every second. She’d fucked — one-sided fucking, but still fucking — in front of an audience. But most questionable of all, she’d shared a picture of herself, her real self, with her fling. Her cheeks grew hot.

“Um.” Painfully conscious of the white streaks on her chest, she picked up her discarded top, but didn’t put it on. “I’d better go clean up.”

All the way to the showers, she felt every glance like a stare. They stoked her exhibitionistic fire, but with her mind on home, they also embarrassed her more. She’d better get her fill; no way could she flaunt herself like that when she got back to real life.

51

“Activating neuro-monitoring software,” Ai said. The image appeared in her kybernet view: a 3D model of her brain, coloured and flashing to show its activation.

“Connecting to neuro-monitoring stream,” Tony said. As soon as the request came in, she approved it, broadcasting the information to him. “Connection is good. Logging enabled.”

“Acknowledged,” she said. “All systems ready.”

“Commencing trial 1.” And then he hugged her.

She sank into the strength of his arms and warmth of his body. Tony’s presence surrounded her, sending a pleasant flutter through her chest. All her focus went into experiencing it. That was the entire point of the trial, not that she needed the justification.

She didn’t know how long she spent like that. Why would she keep track of the time? But then, seemingly all too soon, Tony patted her on the back. “Okay, I think that’s enough for trial 1.”

With a disappointed whine, she drew back to sitting beside him. “Yes, sir...”

“Log file closed at 136 seconds,” he said. “Ready for memory playback?”

“Yes, sir.” She closed her eyes and rolled her memories back. Again, she felt his arms around her; again, she felt his warmth surrounding her. But something was missing. The warmth was muted; the pressure was softened. Eventually, the replay ended, and she was left with no hug at all.

When she opened her eyes, she found Tony staring at what, to her, was empty space. “Fascinating.”

“Sir?” She tugged his sleeve, giving him a hopeful look.

He could have found reasons to refuse. If he exposed her too much to the sensation, it could spoil her responses for future trials. But it didn’t even seem to occur to him. He just tugged her to sit facing outwards from his lap, an arm around her waist. She let out a happy hum and settled into place.

While he held her, he shared his view: two brain models hovering side by side. “Look at this. The replay model, the one on the right. It shows activation in the same regions of the motor cortex, but not to the same extent. The action potential frequency is lower.”

She laid her head back on his shoulder. “Meaning there definitely is a difference, sir? It’s not just because people ‘expect’ a recording to be duller?”

He made an uncertain noise. “I wouldn’t say definitely. It suggests it, but you could argue that it’s a psychosomatic effect. That the replay activation is lower because you’re already expecting it, for instance. You’d need a lot more experimentation to build a full case, but...” He smiled at her. “I’m not a scientist; I’m an engineer. This is enough for me to start working on at least a proof of concept.” His eyes sparkled. He liked his new project.

She touched his arm. “Can I help with that, sir?”

His gaze turned back to the models. “I’ll need you to test it when it’s done,” he said. “But I can build the first draft from simulations, and that’ll take a little while.”

She nodded. “Then I should handle some errands.”

“Mm,” he agreed, distracted.

A minute or two later, he actually took his arm from around her waist. A minute or two after that, she finally rose from his lap to get ready.

52

Even after her chest was clean, Kaitlin stayed in the group showers for a while longer, to feel the cleansing lather and the heat sinking down towards her bones. A shower was a good way to just exist for a while.

A silky voice touched her ears. “You missed a spot.” Deft, strong fingers worked down the middle of her back. They scrubbed her with a touch that hit sweet spots she hadn’t even known about. It pulled a sweet sigh from her lips.

A voice and skilled fingers like those could only be one person. “Ophelia,” Kaitlin groaned, turning to face her.

There the redheaded masseuse stood, smiling. She kept her arms around Kaitlin, hands drifting back and forth on her back. She held herself close: if she came any closer, she’d be in kissing range, but she kept that little bit of distance.

Several responses flashed through Kaitlin at once. Temptation was loudest and brightest; then came the continuing mix of embarrassment and arousal from her earlier show; and finally, a few layers of guilt.

They must have warred on her face, too. Ophelia drew back from her. “Your little boyfriend isn’t interested?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kaitlin said. “But ... I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him about it.”

Ophelia hovered near her for a moment longer, then shrugged. “You have my number.” She stepped away and left Kaitlin with the memory of a touch and the sight of her gracefully striding away.