Sistehood 4 – Intrigue

[BA]

Couldn't be arsed to 2nd proof read so may be some bloopers... hope it makes sense though!

Sistehood 4 — Intrigue
By BA

The silent figure lay face up, indistinct and barely visible in the shadows. It was lit only by the flickering strobes of passing air traffic casting a psychedelic light through the closed blinds to shine back off the hard outline of bare hips leaving the concave sweep of her taught belly in inky darkness. The room was spartan; a bare utility housing cube, one of tens of thousands piled into towers throughout the sprawling conurb housing zone south of the river. Nothing distinguished the bare walls and floor, no pictures or carpets or little furniture softened the scuffed beige plastic surfaces.

A brightly lit flyer cruised past outside, its roar of down-blast muted to a whisper by the perma-sealed plastic window, throwing the room into clearer view for a moment. The figure lay naked, the blue flickering casting her small pert breasts into sharp light and shadow and highlighting the firm contours of her smooth outstretched limbs. There was no bed or couch; instead she was stretched out straight on the hard plastic surface of the dining bar, its dull-scarred surface failing to pick up the light in the way of her glossy skin. Her head remained in the shadow of a shape beside her on the work-surface; dark, boxy and square with some tiny glowing points near the top. She made no move from her cold hard resting place and silence returned as the room fell into darkness again.

The silence lasted for countless minutes into the night with no one present to note the passage of time until, eventually and without warning, it was shattered by a sharp beep. There followed a flurry of electronic activity, revealing part of the boxy shape to be a dull black metallic notebook PC as it brought itself out of hibernation on some unseen signal. It was perched on top of a battered metal tool box and the light of its suddenly bright screen showed the work surface around the figure to be littered with tools and components of all types, circuit boards and wiring and complex micro machinery.

The small computer beeped a few more times before opening a remote download program; it had been accessed through its net-link and was receiving data rapidly. The figure beside it waited, arms patiently at her side showing no sign of awareness or life.


Miss Beach took another sip of water to hide her irritation. She sat at the head of the long mirror smooth table, real hardwood by the look of things, as the meeting, already long extended, showed no sign of drawing to a close. The dozen or so executive members of the London Group around the table, each representing their own bank’s or consortia’s interests, took every opportunity to follow rabbit warrens of slow clumsy logic at great length, never conceding anything until every angle had been explored between them. They were at the table for a rare meeting of the major economic forces on the Sphere that made up the shady and wholly unpublicised London Group of financiers. Stuffed suits and grey hair were the uniform of choice.

Miss Beach sat slightly apart at the head of the gently curving table, the wealthy faces stretching away in order of seniority on each side of her leaving a gap in deference to her unquestioned status as the biggest tiger in this financial jungle. Only her assistant, Alice, sat close by, listening intently and passing the occasional note to her patron. Alison was young, dark, impeccably smart and perfectly beautiful. In the present company, though nothing marked her as such physically, she was obviously an android; far too junior to be a human in the corridors of financial power, even as a PA. Only Miss Beach could afford to take such a liberty, her influence and reputation putting her above question and free to flout accepted conventions. At the side of any of the other executives, each wealthy and senior enough to own and run their many synthetic staff in their own spheres, a robot would no more be tolerated than a sound recorder or transmitter, each carefully screened out before entering the sumptuous meeting room.

Miss Beach herself, only Alison ever called her Michelle and then in private, was bored with the endless discussion. Although she knew with certainty the outcome of the meeting, the direction the loosely bound financial leviathan was bound to take with her at its head, the others would only arrive at her own conclusions after excruciatingly slow debate. Perhaps she could have simply demanded obedience in return for the promised prosperity that her direction had never failed to deliver but power was not there to be squandered. She waited, letting Alison record the detailed progress and intervened only briefly to nudge the slow thinking old financiers in the right direction.

Gazing past the stuffed suit who held the floor at the moment the executive woman took in the view over the city through the glass wall. Directly opposite, almost right below them over the dark river, was the brightly lit white wheel preserved in its huge protective case as a monument to the past. The dark blocks looming on all sides showed the lateness of the hour, few office lights still shone but the coloured flashes of London nightlife flickered back from the black water below, everything distorted through the prism of heavy falling rain. Would this meeting never end?

She allowed her mind to drift, Alison would not allow the turgid progress to veer off course without alerting her; she was the very best android model on the market with some unique enhancements. The executive tapped her pen rhythmically on the glossy wood, turning it end for end between her neat undecorated fingers. She was young for this position, mid thirties, and, if not for her strategic and carefully managed position on many company boards she would struggle to be taken seriously in such company. Some in the not so distant past had learnt not to judge her experience by looks alone. She knew she was attractive and frequently caught the lingering glances from those struggling after an intense day of concentration. Rather than offended or upset, Miss Beach was amused by such attention. She knew she was far beyond the physical or financial reach of these fat cats but was always able to fall back on traditional feminine charms to sway selected opinions: a winning smile could be worth billions at this table.

Her face grew a tiny hint of a smile as her thoughts wandered further. She knew that many of those present quietly objected to Alison’s presence, though none dared speak out. An android here at this secret meeting of economic might went against their years of cutting through to the head people to deal face to face, no records, no papers, no tricks. That had always been the creed of this exclusive club until she had wormed her way in and on top with a sudden dexterous financial campaign, orchestrated to perfection and over almost before it was begun.

She wondered how they would feel if they knew she too was a robotic woman. Alison was a useful assistant and capable protector but her principle function was to keep Miss Beach herself functioning as a flawless and undetectable human replica. Any hint that she was not human would bring the crafted intricacies of her power base crashing down. A machine could not own property, vote on company boards, transfer credit or play any role at all in this circle. She was owned of course, she was simply property, but when property thinks things get complicated. Her owners, indeed the owners of the organisation she represented here, were no more than complex multi-layered fronts. Eventually the chain could be traced to human beings of course, otherwise economics would become nonsense, shareholders, business owners, taxpayers, but they had not the slightest conception of her existence or what she was doing. The organisation she worked on behalf of, not the companies she claimed to but her real raison d’etre, was similarly ambiguous. Buried amongst the complexities of the global economy it was possible to create a country without borders. She was its chancellor.


The small computer flashed data across its screen with surprising speed as it ran a complex decryption routine. The visual interface was rough, industrial or prototype in appearance, and the text window that finally opened was a simple notepad file:

XXXX-DATA RECEIPT 112231Z AUTHENTICATED CCA3-XXXX

EXECUTE: UNIT CCU57 EMERGENCY INPUT PROTOCOL. UPLOAD MESSAGE CONTENT TO PRIMARY FUNCTIONAL LEVEL:

FROM: TASKING AGENT
TO: CCU 57
SUBJECT: EMERGENCY IMPERATIVE TASKING
STATUS: AUTHENTICATED VPN DATA

CONTENT:

1. INTELLIGENCE INDICATION OF ATTACK PROFILE (76%) — TARGET - UNIT7 — LOCATION - TRANSPORT RENDEVOUS — VENUE — TCF BANK BUILDING — METHOD — ELECTRONIC INTERDICTION + PROBABLE DISSASEMBLY AND DATA REMOVAL — ENEMY — CLOSE COMBAT UNITS (COMMERCIAL) NUMBER UNKNOWN.
2. TASKING — DEPLOY TO ATTACK SITE AND SUPPORT UNIT7 AND INTEGRAL SECURITY ASSET AS REQUIRED
3. SUPPORT — NIL AVAILABLE
4. CONSTRAINTS — NO ACTION PRIOR TO ATTACK INITIATION
5. TIMING — MOVE NOW
EXECUTE: ACTIVATE UNIT CCU57. ENABLE SELF-DISCONNECTION.

XXXX-END 112231Z AUTHENTICATED CCA3-XXXX

The inert woman’s stomach abruptly lit up with red and green points of light showing a square hole in her toned abdomen. The lights flickered for a moment before she finally moved. She gasped as her arms and legs suddenly convulsed, clawing and kicking after being still for so long, her back also arching spastically.
“Oh… Wh…? SHIT!”

The lithe shape kicked and pushed uncontrollably with her legs pushing herself around on the smooth surface until she overbalanced, toppling head first towards the floor, her flailing arms too wild to grasp the worktop as she crashed down in a heap pulling the computer down on top of herself by some link unseen in the dark.

She moved wildly for a few moments more in the darkness of the kitchen area floor, swearing earnestly in a beautifully crafted and delicate voice that was at odds with her words. She gained the control to stand up and two bright blue sparks flashed from the floor as she did so, eliciting another curse. She was online.

Close Combat Unit 57 thought of herself as Candy in her higher functions. She was a hybrid design combining military tactical chipsets and ancillaries with a commercial chassis making her both cutting edge and ruthlessly deadly as well as rather pretty. She took in her surroundings carefully, noting the scattered components and tools now spread over the floor. Her night vision made the room clear as day and the targeting data scrolling and blinking in her field of view was an unnoticed detail. The complex tagging and combat-space sharing information was useless to her without linked teammates to co-ordinate with.

The slender figure looked down at herself, noting the open panel in her stomach and several spaces inside corresponding to some of the components littering the room. She reached in to remove the connections of two snapped cables that had linked her to the notebook until just now, dropping them on the floor to examine the bare metal and plastic exposed on her right upper arm. She swore again before gathering her clothes, simple jeans and tee-shirt and dressing quickly.

She recognised the safe house where she had made her rendezvous with the field tech. It was much as it had been when she had arrived, several days earlier. The only thing missing was the ‘tech who had met her then and shut her down for repair. Her last mission had bust her arm badly, damage that seemed rectified other than for the cosmetic finish. She spent most of her existence dormant, concealed at a strategic point until activated to play a part in the grand scheme. She was a weapon and a secret, not a machine to be left to wander the city unless needed. Things must be pretty desperate to deploy her before her repairs were completed, she only hoped she would function effectively.

Pulling on boots and a leather jacket retrieved from a hook behind the door Candy paused only to kick the contents of the room into a pile, her own parts, tools and notebook included and ignite them with a pyro-squib from her pocket before she hurried out. The small quick fire and resulting suppression would destroy any evidence of her presence and she had no time to complete repairs, even if she could.


The meeting finally broke and Miss Beach left quickly, briskly thanking the members for their attendance and breezing out with Alison in tow. The older players in the group were glad to see her leave though none let any feeling show until certain their resentment wouldn’t be seen. The two women took the express lift to the roof parking level, alone in the small space. They quickly exchanged status updates, confirming verbally that each was functioning perfectly as any data link was suppressed within the building. Even now, on the way out, they were meticulous to ensure that nothing could compromise their deception.

The doors opened onto the grey concrete expanse of the parking area. It was cold and a wind gusted around the parked flyers lined up under the white ceiling, a sheet of rain sluiced over the edge of the weather roof and obscured the open landing deck beyond as they stepped briskly down the line to their sleek black aircar.

“Grim night for flying home, Miss Beach”, They shared an outwardly human shudder at the British weather and a silent understanding of the extra loathing an electronic mind has for such conditions. Alice zapped the locks as they approached and the cabin door slid back revealing the warm leather interior beckoning them inside.

Alice’s purpose was to assist and protect her android mistress. She was built for office work not combat but was very modern and equipped with no thought for cost to fill both roles. In selecting electronic disruption as their sole means of attack the enemy revealed a telling intelligence gap.

Two silent black figures emerged simultaneously from behind vehicles on each side of the aisle as the women passed. Moving like greased darkness they closed with their targets in an instant, masked by the driving rain outside even from Alice’s enhanced sensors. They reached from behind, synchronised like one figure and its mirror image, and pressed a hard metal cylinder to each feminine neck with black-gloved hands. On the right Miss Beach’s pale skin felt the unexpected touch of metal just behind her ear, in the only mismatch in the unnatural symmetry of the attack Alice’s assailant swept aside the curtain of her black hair before pressing a matching weapon into place. Both cylinders exploded with angry sparks the instant they touched and both women convulsed flinging their arms wide and their shocked wide eyed faces back violently before collapsing like rag dolls to the wet and grimy floor, their immaculate business suits in disarray. The dark clad figures, both women in black street clothes, leather and plastic, stooped over Miss Beach’s inert form and scooped her into the waiting car.


Candy screamed through the driving rain in the stolen aircar making a beeline for the office tower right ahead. She cut through the traffic lanes on manual control, lines and ranges flashing in front of her fixed eyes calculating an inhumanly precise flight path. She pushed the engines of the stolen courier vehicle to their limits as she angled steeply up to the roof park of her target zone. She had wasted no time in stealing the first available transport, the driver would recover eventually, and making a streak across the dark city for her mission zone. She had kept well below the policed air and lifted at the last minute over the river to her destination.

Topping the roof on full throttle she touched down and braked hard, slamming reverse thrust on to slow the vehicle’s headlong rush as it crashed through the parked lines under the weather roof. Sparks flying from the collapsed wheels the little aircar slammed to a halt against a pillar flinging its occupant through the windshield. The two figures Candy had seen the instant they came into view leapt aside as the combat unit somersaulted past and landed with a neat roll and tuck. Logging target-one she bounced instantly to the attack against target-two to make the most of her surprise appearance. She flicked a rapid pair of kicks at the black clad woman’s head knocking her away like chaff then turned and engaged the other.

As Candy grappled with her second target, the two women rolling off a glossy vehicle hood onto the floor and twisting each others arms with straining hands, the crumpled figure of Alice blinked back into life. The pretty robot’s shielded inner core had survived the EM attack sufficiently to auto re-boot her without harm while her mistress remained an inert piece of machinery until manually activated. The attackers would have the sense not to apply enough charge to damage any of the robots’ valuable data or programming.

Alice quickly took in the scene, the wreckage against the roof pillar, the lifeless body in the car and the two women locked in a violent death struggle faster and harder violence than flesh and blood could achieve. The second black figure made a rush to help her companion.

“Hey, fucker!”, Alice leapt to her feet and put her fist up in classic karate pose. She was short and cute and not at all threatening in her scuffed business suit, one stockinged knee laddered from the attack. The black clad attacker looked sharply around. Her eye had been shattered by Candy’s flying kicks and her cheekbone glinted metallically through her pale skin. Distracted from the fighting women she advanced on Alice. The others broke their grip on one another and fought over the cars in a flurry of lightening kicks, blocks and punches.

Alice sidestepped and threw a swift double punch at the already weakened face of the taller woman in front of her. Alice was faster and stronger than she looked and could hold her own in any human kickboxing ring. The other woman blocked and dodged the first blow and calmly caught Alice’s other hard little fist in her hand. She grinned as she delivered a bone shattering kick to the PA’s shin and spun her bodily to slam against the nearest vehicle and slide to the floor. Alice picked herself up quickly and took a defensive pose and, as the other woman walked towards her, backed away hampered by a severe limp.

Outside Candy and her opponent tumbled out into the pouring rain exchanging a blur of blows and counters. The CCU maintained a constant assessment of the tactical situation. She was aware that the secretary unit was engaging the damaged attacker but was unlikely to survive long as these units were pretty tough. She would have to get back to the principle quickly and ensure her safety but needed to terminate this unit first. She had had no time to arm herself in the rush and was finding it difficult to inflict much damage without a weapon.

She manoeuvred the battle to put the wreckage of her landing behind her and after a few more exchanged blows saw her opportunity. Like a chess-master planning several moves ahead the Close Combat Unit allowed the enemy robot to land two good blows. Encouraged she pressed home this attack and Candy bent low as if to shield herself. In a fraction of a second she had seized the other’s leg and used the momentum of the punches to flip her over her shoulder to land backwards against the shattered remains of a lighting pole. The snapped alloy found the lightly protected joint between the armoured pelvis and chest, as she had planned, and drove down through the stricken body from the side, down into the open top of her pelvis. Without knowing her enemy’s design in detain Candy knew this large solid void was invariably housed critical robot components. In this case apparently it was a power pack as in her own design and the stricken combat druid convulsed violently with sparks flying from her back to rebound from the wet floor.

Candy delivered a spinning kick with a victorious shout to drive the other unit firmly onto her stake and turned to run fast and silent back towards the other fight. The defeated robot was beyond help, all power purged in the first violent breaching of her power pack she lay still with the rain falling into her wide eyes.
Alice had suffered several devastating body blows and her left arm was jerking at a useless angle to her side. She was beginning to malfunction seriously and had failed to land a single blow on her opponent. Only her combat adaptations prevented her from shutting down but she was programmed to override all safety protocols in defence of Miss Beach. She was unable to run, a slave to her programming, but held no hope of winning or getting to the car and away. She guessed that it was a combat ‘bot that had been scrambled to their defence by the Sisterhood and just tried to occupy this enemy unit for as long as possible.

As the attacker lined up for what would be the final blow on the damaged android girl slumped against a car Candy burst from between the rows and delivered another pair of devastating kicks to her first target sending her reeling across the concrete with her hands to her face. The last enemy had been well armoured and Candy scanned quickly for a weapon of any sort to press home her attack. In the absence of anything more suitable she grasped Alice’s shoulder and roughly wrenched her damaged arm. With a sickening graunch and a shower of small sparks it tore free at the elbow ripping half of the shocked PA’s jacket with it.

Candy sprang towards the remaining attacker casting the unwanted clothing aside. As the sprawling robot struggled to get up she kicked away her hands sending her back to the floor and drove the stump of Alice’s robotic arm downwards into her face. She held it like a dagger with one hand clasped around the lifelike forearm and the other holding hands with the frozen fingers. Aiming for the damaged side of the prone woman’s head, where her faceplate had been loosened by Candy’s kicking, the metal chassis component of the arm struck home.

Candy stood as the stricken unit shut down with a loud bang which blew her face aside to hang half off her head with a fighting grimace fixed on its mundanely pretty “shop girl” features. Behind it were the blackened components inside her head with Alice’s arm sticking up incongruously with it’s perfect glossy red nails. The android lay still, all functions terminated by the damage.

Alice stood where she was, she was still working but malfunctioning severely. She gazed about in confusion starting sentences with confidence then stopping as if unable to hold her thoughts. The tatters of her jacket hung from her remaining arm and the stump of the other waved in random jerks emitting bursts of sparking every few seconds and trailing torn wires. Her blouse had been torn open and her chest heaved with great gulping breaths inside a sheer bra. She began to state severe malfunctions, not so much to Candy, who ignored her, but to the world in general. In her taught belly a line appeared and a rectangle of pink flesh slid up into her chest revealing her control panel. She continued to politely state severe malfunctions and request maintenance.

“Short circuits in primary power couplings… Motor impairment… I’m sorry, I am severely damaged... I require urgent repair... I am not able to function correctly… I am malfunctioning, please shut me down… I require urgent repair. I’m sorry I’m malfunctioning… Please shut me down urgently…”

Still calm but in considerable trouble, Alice stepped towards the car. Apparently forgetting the damage to her leg she stumbled and landed heavily on her knees overbalanced and, failing to catch herself with her non-existent left arm fell heavily on her damaged side. She began to deteriorate seriously, still speaking calmly but making less and less sense and beginning the telltale twitch of critical malfunction.

Candy was having problems of her own. Ignoring the badly damaged office robot, she headed quickly for the car, and stopped in alarm at a popping sound. She swore violently as she tore off the soaked leather jacket and threw it to the floor and ripped her wet white tee shirt away from her belly, tearing it down to a crop-top to show the exposed components inside her open panel. A tiny spark accompanied another pop on one of several circuit boards she could see. She wasn’t programmed for maintenance but was well aware that this was not good.

Trying to stem the drips from her bosom Candy finished her dash for the still open vehicle with it’s uniquely valuable occupant. She bent over the inert form, dumped casually across the rear seat only five minutes before by the enemy units. Miss Beach was as realistically human as an android could be, perfect in every detail and with no clue as to how to activate her inert form. Fortunately the combat unit had received tech specs of both friendly robots as part of her mission download. Alice was expensive but expendable off-the-shelf technology, this robot was unique. As another few electric pops sent a visible tremor through her body she reached into the executive woman’s clothing, pressed hard into her belly button and turned a quarter turn feeling a small click.

Miss Beach activated quickly, her simulation functions would catch up but her senses, mind and motor functions were fully on line in less than thirty seconds. She sat up and looked at the android standing leaning in through the open door. She was clearly a CCU in a partially repaired state, beyond she could see the malfunctioning remains of her assistant quickly approaching a total systems crash and beyond the wreckage of a field unit of some sort. She guessed that her allies must have hacked into this combat bot, their resources were still limited after all and this was the best rescue she could expect. Somehow her plan had been exposed early. The sisters must still believe she was a single rougue ‘bot otherwise they’d have sent an army to take her down. She had been fortunate to escape but the ball was now rolling and there was nothing they could do to stop her!

“CCU 57 on defensive mission, No 7. Two enemy units destroyed… desr error I’m malfunctioning, I am still not fully repaired. Where are all the Sisterhoods’ other assets, what’s happening?”

A flurry of sparks showered into the cabin of the aircar causing Candy to stutter madly for a moment and the still smart Miss Beach to wrinkle her nose.

“Please deactivate me, I have internal water damage!”

Candy made a move into the car and Miss Beach held up a finger.

“Just a moment No 57…”

She reached towards the exposed electronics as they continued to spit the odd spark and grabbed a small bundle of coloured wires. She pulled them hard, one end coming free from it’s home amongst the complex electronics.

“MALFUNCTION!”

“You’re not here for the Sisterhood, robot, you’re here for me!”

Candy staggered backwards, her arms jerking clumsily at her belly as Miss Beach slammed the door closed and pressed the auto launch. Unable to control herself for several seconds the combat unit watched helplessly as the smart black aircar cruised out into the rain and leapt away into the night.

“Water damage… deactivate…error… error… error…”

Pops and sparks continued to fly from Candy’s open body as she made her way over to Alice. She was lifeless, her systems shut down, unable to function after the damage done to her, lying in a crumpled heap of disarrayed clothing, flesh and exposed robotics. Her skirt was hitched right up to reveal the pink globes of her buttocks divided by a black strip of lace. On one was the robot id mark, her serial number, manufactures logo, barcode and the discrete servicing indicator that identified her as a sisterhood robot. Not a sister of course, they were secret, but owned by the sisterhood.

Twitching a little as a drip caused another shower of sparking, Candy pushed down her own belt to reveal the same little logo on her lower torso, a small black pair of dice. Of course she had no serial number as an illegal machine, just her designation: CCU57. She staggered over to the black clad android who still gently smoked from her open face. Slender and willowy, she had a similar build to Candy herself. She bent down and opened the black leather jacket to reveal a naked female form inside, hard nipples topping pert little breasts and a faint rectangle outlined in the flat belly.

Candy began to twitch badly but reached down her victim’s body to push aside the waistband of her tight black PVC trousers. Just below the belt, inside the left hip bone was a mark, two rolling black dice and some letter: CCU31. A sudden explosion of violent sparks pitched Candy forward onto her sister unit as her leg motors began to spasm uncontrollably.

“error… error… error… er er er… error… error…”

Her voice droned the warning calmly, automatically and in the background she could hear sirens approaching. She tried to move, to get up but her robot body was failing too fast. She lay, alert and aware as her useless limbs thrashed causing worse damage and more sparks. Soon she would crash and there was nothing she could do about it. Thoughts crashed through her advanced processors: betrayal? hacked? No7 Sister? Why? Warning! Must warn the sisterhood! She had been hacked into and mission programmed against her own organisation. They were secretive; this pile of android wreckage would cause terrible damage to the organisation! Why? Malfunction Why? Betrayal? No 7 Sister? Malfunction Why? Error Hacked? Reserve processor offline error Why? Error Secrets Error System resources critical Must escape Error error Must warn… Malfunction System…

***PROGRAM TERMINATED***

[dementedLuke]

what a magnificent story, the crowds gather in awe, applauds to you.

[kb7rky]

Intriguing is a word I'd use...though it seems a lot of stories are leaning a lot toward water-damaged 'droids as of late...

Doug (64 posts to go...)

[Sthurmovik]

Great story, but what happened to Part 3?

[Korby]

Wow.

That's about all I can say. This is shaping up to be one fantastic story. I cannot wait to see where this is going.

[BA]

Feel free to post a corrected version, I'll download it myself!

BA

[BA]

Oh yeah - sorry - Part 3 is still on my HD. I swapped the order of 3 and 4 but forgot to change the names around!

I was thinking of putting it all together, editing a bit and submitting as a big lump to LTBSA (if they're still doing robot stuff...?) or here. Any one got advice on the best format to include pictures within the text on a post - pdf, Word?

BA

[kb7rky]

I'll go with the consensus...this series is one of the better ones, though the logical order was a bit messed up. I, too, was wondering about Part 3, but thanks for the correction.

Doug (bumping the count up by one to 61 posts to go!)

[tectile]

This story just keeps on rockin!

[htb21]

Great story! looking forward to reading more of this!