[FFML] Frozen Butterfly Chapter 2 BGC Fanfic

[skychan]

Frozen Butterfly a story of Bubblegum Crisis





Chapter 2 – Flex those Wings 2.01

That evening the tests began.  My concerns about being part of, if not the
alpha test, for whatever process had been used to transfer my mind to body
only increased with my treatment.

Limited to the confines of the room, I was hooked up to several IV's slowly
pumping in fresh and out foul 'blood' – the process reminding me of a
dialysis machine, one with a six foot tether marking the boundaries of
freedom.

The physical tests were obviously routine, something they had done many
times and took barely half a day under Dr. Sutekina's care as he verified
all my 'systems' were functioning correctly.

Doctor Kechina, who's name I knew only from his employee badge took charge
then.  He was on a clear mission, to make sure that my mind was intact, and
that I was in full control of my faculties.  Nothing else mattered; he just
made me sit there in my increasingly ratty paper gown answering question
after question long into the night.

Getting him to answer a question back was like pulling teeth.  I could tell
he didn't care about ME at all.  To him I was obviously just an experiment
a thing, even if the goal was to prove I was a person.  The grilling only
ended early in the morning when finally he was too tired to continue, not
that he asked me once how I was doing.

That evening I lay back to sleep, rest, enter a state of meditative
regeneration, whatever.  The room was just chilly enough to feel like I
should be uncomfortable *2 degrees below optimum operational temperature*,
and it took a long time for me to just… switch off and sleep.

That next morning I woke up, one moment unconscious, the next my attention
sharp and focused the soft scuff of footsteps outside the door drawing my
attention in time to stand up and smooth out my 'smock' before Doctor
Sutekina stepped into the room.

I smiled a little at him as he entered, actually looking at ME instead of a
thing.  I could tell because of his blush, *elevated pulse, dilation of
eyes, increased respiration indicate arousal in subject.*  It gave me a
warm feeling in my stomach and my breath caught slightly as I frowned
noticing a very… uncomfortable reaction against the rough paper of my gown.


It was nice that he was noticing me… but did he have to NOTICE me to do it?
I felt like squirming in my seat, even started to before I recognized the
impulse as coming from some internal program of mine, * anticipated 15%
greater likelihood of successful intercourse upon completion of seduction
subroutines.   *

That was like a cold shower and I forced myself into stillness.  Still he
was far more understanding and personable than Dr. Kechina had been last
evening.  "I don't suppose you've got anything else to wear, a girl could
get the wrong idea dressed like this and you wanting to play doctor."

"I'm sorry," his eyes darting up at me and back to the floor as he spoke,
tongue running nervously across his lips.  "I didn't realize you hadn't
well, I'll be, right back."  And practically fled.

Frankly it was a relief to have a few moments to myself to come to terms
with the encounter and my response to it.  He wasn't even that attractive,
even if I swung that way he was just about the last man I could have seen
myself attracted to.  I just wasn't wired like that… or was I, now.

It was with a wry smile at his hasty retreat that I finally got something
real to wear – it only took one unintentional fumbled attempt at
flirtatious humor to send him packing in that regard.  I guess once you
realize the curvy body in front of you is no longer an inanimate bit of
clay you can't go back to indifference in the face of a paper hospital gown.


When he returned with a coverall I was grateful to get into it, and out of
my somewhat tattered paper gown.  Unfortunately with him standing there
with his back turned I didn't have a chance to look myself over and soon
found myself once more caught up in an interview.

While he was clearly under the same marching orders as Dr. Kechina at least
he tried to give the impression that this had been done for my benefit and
answered my questions in turn.

He explained how to open and use the data ports along my arm and that the
buzzing in my head was the wireless connection they were using to monitor
me.  At first I wasn't sure what he was talking about, until I realized he
didn't know himself.  Really it wasn't a buzzing at all, more of a feeling
of exposure, like my cloths had holes in them letting a draft against my
skin only in my mind.

It became more that I was being kept sheltered from the outside world when
I talked them or rather Dr. Sutekina into providing me a computer with an
internet connection.  The access was highly limited.

When my web search on my own particular model came up with zero hits and
most other sites I tried came back blocked it was a small hint.

Persevering I did learn a few interesting tidbits reading between the lines.
I was in MegaTokyo, cyberdroids were also known as Boomers, and from every
search I ran to my growing alarm did not have any rights.

I guess it was understandable given the number of Skynet incidents they
seemed to have with instances of boomers going rogue being almost too easy
to find.  That might help explain their repeated and unending tests but I
felt it went deeper.

As night fell, or at least the lights were turned down that second night I
finally had a little privacy.   I couldn't help but check – it was really
my first chance at privacy.  Hanging a sheet up in front of the camera a
quickly slipped out of the coverall they had found me.  It had a logo with
Genom stamped below it, but otherwise was shapeless as a bag.  I on the
other hand was anatomically correct.  I could feel the blush tingeing my
cheeks even just from looking.

Apparently anatomically correct was an understatement, whoever designed me
was a real over achiever – I was a natural blond.  After a confusing few
minutes that mixed embarrassment and amusement as I 'felt myself up' I
quickly slipped back into the coverall.  My body might be willing, even
warm to the thought but my mind wanted to find a dark safe place to hide.

Pulling back down the sheet I lay down using it as another barrio to hide
from myself, starting to giggle a bit at the absurdity of being nervous and
glad there wasn't a mirror.  Trying to think healthy thoughts, heck any
thoughts other than where the gentle pleasant hum from my body seemed to
direct I quickly discovered – remembered? – my serial number.

Fixing upon it as a distraction I turned to the computer to try looking it
up.  While I didn't find myself registered anywhere, not even in the
official government licensing database spending so much time looking I did
find the regulations on the structure of the code.  I realized that mine
indicated my body was produced in 2027 – more than four years ago.  A quick
check against my 'elapsed runtime' indicated only a little over the 24
hours I could remember since first waking up. Why had I been in storage
that long… and why wasn't my body registered with the government.

As I lay back 'sleeping' to let the more biological components of my body
rest my awareness seemed to shrink down, sharpen and fuzz at the same time.
The outside world fading from concern as I considered that this really was
the first time 'I' had been in anything other than a storage cocoon and how
should I feel about being me.  There were no helpful prompts on this
subject.

Unfortunately I still hadn't made up my mind by the time the lights came up
in the morning.  I blinked myself out of 'slow time' and felt full
consciousness return.  I didn't have to wait very long until Doctor
Sutekina came in to wish me a good morning, carrying with him a small bag
and a bottle of soda.

Raising an artful eyebrow at the oddity he read the question without my
having to ask.  "A gift, after um, well I just thought you might appreciate
some real food, and this is" he face turning red I had an idea long before
he finished trying to avoid answering.  *88% probability contents of bag
relate to deduction of intimate apparel. *"For later." He finished the
sentence off with a little bow not meeting my eyes.

I was all smiles as I greedily took bag and bottle from him.  A discrete
glance proved my guess correct and so I set it aside.  No matter how my
pulse quickened as the thought I wasn't about to strip just to put on some
underwear in front of him.

Luckily the bottle of coke gave me an out.  From the first sip I realized
how much I missed food.  Sure I didn't need, but the sweet taste of carbon
and tangy sugar were delicious on my tongue.  Real food just felt so much…
better than depending on the nutrient rich saline drip in my arm.  "Doctor,
could I have another?"

Shaking his head with a smile he replied, "No, you can't, it will rot your
teeth."  His teasing tone a relieving the tension for us both.

Cradling the bottle as I savored the last few drops on my tongue I let out
a soft sigh *subject aware of proximity, respiration and eye dilation
confirm increasing arousal  *"Well, fine, but you better not try holding
out on me at lunch time."

Shifting a little closer purely to enjoy the signs of discomfort and
arousal I could cause by just that small move I had to ask more about
myself.  "Why can't I find any records about myself online, I mean, sure
I'm an outdated model but shouldn't there be something there?"  I left
unspoken questions about why they would use a five year old design for what
was in all other ways a cutting edge procedure.

Dr. Sutekina walked over to check the interface computer, glancing at his
shoes before pulling up a few standard screens without really looking at
them.  *Subject behavior indicates discomfort with topic 67% probability,
implementation of deception 47% probability*.  "Well, your model is very
accurate, built for housekeeping duties but, I'm sure you realize it's too
expensive for general use… there just wasn't enough demand to keep it in
production."

"So, that made it nearly perfect for these tests then."  My voice dropping
down to a cooler tone one I associated privately for naughty young children
and telemarketers.  "I mean, you had an unsold surplus and why build a new
body when you weren't even sure your first test run would work?"

I saw the flinch and slight hunching of his shoulders at the accusation.  While
he was still sputtering, trying to think of something anything to say to
appease me the door to my room opened again.  Dr. Kechina stepped inside,
rescue, or just to keep him from saying anything further I wondered.
"Sutekina,
quit wasting time, we have work to do." And he was gone without giving me
so much as a glance.

On his way to the door Sutekina gave me an apologetic smile and lame
excuse, "We just didn't want to cause you any undue stress, to make you
worry that things weren't alright…"  But his smile fell as I just watched
him go with a small shake of my head – he could read the disappointment in
my eyes.

The day's testing continued and from the excitement in their reactions,
even from Kechina, it became clear that 'downloading' my mind had been
successful.   I was both stable and sentient – the latter proven to my
satisfaction by a growing irritability at being asked the same questions
over and over again.  Surely the slow torturous death I imagined giving Dr.
Kechina would have tripped some kind of failsafe otherwise.

The day came to an end, as my mood darkened apace with what I could only
presume was happening in the sky outside.  The sky I still hadn't been
allowed to go see with my own new eyes.  It was a relief to see the last of
them, Sutekina walking with pride filled steps at his accomplishment out
the door.  Kechina not even bothering with a goodnight, for all that he was
playing Frankenstein he didn't seem to realize that his success meant he
had succeeded in bringing back a REAL person.

Dragging the desk with my computer over to the edge of the bed I flopped
down on my belly, doing my best to ignore the sheets beneath my fingers,
intentionally blurring the feel of the cloth beneath my fingers so I
wouldn't have the thread count popping up in my mind interrupting my
thoughts.  Pulling away from those strange and instinctive physical senses
that told me too much about the world, too precisely.

Instead I focused irritably on the computer in front of me hoping that
tonight maybe I would find something interesting or at least useful.  Zoning
out I almost didn't realize that I wasn't typing when the browser opened up
before me or that I could 'see' the webpage before it came up on the screen.


I let out a gasp blinking rapidly as realization hit and I missed a packet
my connection to the computer dropping as my connection protocol failed but
I could still feel it, a standard test signal waiting for me to reconnect,
a rippling pool of water waiting for me to reach my arm down into its cool
depths, this time under my control and at my discretion if I wanted to
connect or not.

A smile coming to my face I closed my eyes and just rested my head on the
lumpy pillow, feeling the rough *100 thread count* sheet against my cheek
and focusing on that connection.  It was surprisingly easy before it got
complicated.  At first it was as simple to use as could be.  I just had to
focus my thoughts and push.  I 'asked' for what I wanted to mentally
'browse' reaching some of the familiar sites I had been to before – only
when I tried to find something new did I run into a problem, and realize I
was only reaching part way.

It was a surprise to realize I was wandering through the computer's memory
and not my own.  It was right here for the taking, but to reach the
internet, the freedom and knowledge I really wanted to see for that I had
to pass another test, another odd little string of challenge and response
before I found myself immersed in a mental maze, overwhelmed by the vast
emptiness while simultaneously becoming immersed in too much information.

If anyone ever asks, the internet is not like the matrix, and navigating it
isn't so simple as walking down a street.  You need specifics, you need to
know exactly where you want to go, and a URL is just the beginning.  There
are paths, trunks, codes, permissions, endless loops of computerized
bureaucracy keeping everything in order and the slightest mistake turns
everything into turbulent heat and hashed data.

I must have seemed incredibly out of date to the other hardware I contacted.
My responses ungoverned by standard automated processes stored procedures –
rather each choice made intentionally as it occurred after a pause to think
it over first.

Still the freedom was incredible and I can only guess how regular hackers,
limited by their typing speed and memorized knowledge of system
architecture would go green with envy at my ability, necessity even, to
choose between a hundred different paths and options on how to get from one
computer to another.

It was that freedom of pathway that made me realize just how badly the
computer's regular access to the world outside had been cut.  Access that
now was no longer denied me.

I lost myself in my newfound freedom, regaining all those things I had
lost, tracking down the history and present.

I really had died in a senseless accident, and the cryogenics' company
really had been bought up by Genom.  That was easy to learn, just public
searches using the massive specialized search engines and letting myself
follow the automated pathway's to information they provided.

But that was the past, I needed to know more about now, about myself, and
my rights.  It wasn't hard but took patience as I searched for, found, and
wormed my way into the government's computer system.

There were no laws about people being brought back to life, the closest I
could find were laws about "boomeroids" and those stated that if you were
more than 70% replacement parts you lost your rights – not a good sign
given my situation.

I was still wandering around when it hit me.  I was a hacker, and not just
small time, but in the major leagues.  I was in the heart of MegaTokyo's
government mainframe and other than finding it I hadn't even realized how
easy it had been to get past their security.

Backtracking a little I tried some other paths, the high traffic ones that
public engines used.  They all required authentication – I even watched a
computer slowly working its way through, probing one path then the next
trying to get deeper only to be stopped at one of those firewalls I had
almost instinctively bypassed.

On a whim I sent a ping to that computer from within the system.  "Have you
tried this?" and appended the path to the backdoor I had already used.  My
guess that they were a hacker was confirmed when almost a minute and a half
later I saw their path change and a response sent to the node I had
transmitted from.

"Thanks, who are you?"

A lot of possible responses ran through my mind at that, my name, a friend,
the various handles I had used in the past, but after a few moments of
though only one answer really seemed to fit.  "Galatea 3.0" I answered then
because I couldn't help it I asked, "Would you like to play a game?"

Sure the classic reference would almost have to go over the head of anyone
who wasn't too old to fit my mental picture of a hacker and whoever this
was they were no exception.

"Ah, maybe… what kind of game were you thinking of?"

I grinned to myself with even as I responded, tracking their message back
along the path they were using, even as we continued to leave our messages
for one another in the heart of the government's network.  "How about Tic
Tac Toe, or maybe Global Thermonuclear War?"

"Oh come on, now you're just messing with me," Came the response.  "How did
you know I was trying to find a way in?"

Having trailed their signal back I found my final step blocked, unlike the
options of the web there was only one path left and this one required a
mind bending twist of logic beyond me.  Brow mentally furrowed in thought I
waited a little too long to answer and suddenly they were gone, the path I
had seen glowing with activity in my mind's eye now dark and lost.

It was only that link to the outside world that kept me sane as I 'woke up'
the next morning for a new battery of tests.  Now they knew I was "stable"
and had free will.  Dr. Sutekina's next trick was to make sure I was really
complete.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, bored out of my mind in the lull between
questions about the past I idly reached out with my new sense and realized
that another rippling pool was available to me, one that hadn't been shut
down along with my PC this morning.  Probably looking a little like a loon,
I grinned my mind following that ephemeral trail along my diagnostic
connection and out into the building and the world beyond.

I always used to pride myself on being able to multitask well.  That was
nothing compared to this.  I found I could literally split my attention in
half, one part of me focused fully on answering question after question on
my personal history the other half doing my own thing, and each being
considered 'fully' at the same time.

Memory is odd, when they asked about anything since my 'revival' it was
incredibly easy to remember, organized.  I could recall it instantly,
totally but not as I expected photographically.  I only could 'remember'
things in as great a detail as I had paid attention to at the time it was
made.  I could recreate the first conversation Dr. Sutekina had with me,
every little expression on his face, but the room was mostly a blur, and
even though I had 'seen' his clipboard it was nothing but gibberish to my
memory.  Now I take a moment to really pay attention to things so if I want
to think about them later I can.

It was the other questions, about my cats, my house, a car, a meal that
were trickier.  I couldn't just instantly remember what it was I wanted, I
had to stop and think about it.  To remember how I got my cats took a long
circuitous route through memories of what they looked like, then the trip
home with them crawling through the car, a fuzzy image of one climbing on
the steering column and while I know I got one for free as long as I took
her sister I couldn't remember being told that, only telling the story.

That's why I've decided that as good as human memory is, it's also crap.  Sure
once I did latch onto a specific memory I could find it again instantly,
focus it more and slowly build it up but always always they were hazy, hard
to focus, and random as what could be remembered differed depending on how
I found it.

That wireless diagnostic connection was my lifeline to freedom.  Even while
they questioned me I could escape.

I floated in the limitless depths of the web like some kind of jellyfish
trolling for data, or perhaps a butterfly aloft on a warm breeze fluttering
aimlessly from this bit of data to that.

The first web 3.2 site and it's advertising took me by surprise.  I was
caught, that damn hamburger jingle showing me the danger as I fought for
more than an hour to get it to stop repeating in my head, damn viral
advertising… but I was there, on the web at last and damned if I wouldn't
keep using it.

Whatever they were doing here at Genom it was new.  While the cryogenics
industry was still alive and kicking, that’s all it was, no one I could
find had ever been brought back to life, or even really yet made the
attempt.  That made the day's tests more interesting, but also made me
realize just how precarious my situation was.  No one had done this before
me, and without legal rights yet I had no idea what might be done with me.

I continued to answer questions about my past, slowly piecing together a
better and better picture of my life.  I re-sorted my memories as I went
with an air of detachment.

That's when I made an uncomfortable discovery.  The 33-S is not a domestic
design.  At least not the kind I had been told it was.  They might have
been employed as maids, but only as a socially acceptable cover not by
design.  I was a sexaroid, my body designed by men, for men, for all those
things that they wanted but couldn't find a willing woman for.

That was bad enough.  But digging deeper while I answered a stupid question
about old video games Dr. Kechina was asking I realized that my 'model' had
a long history of 'instability'.  Imagine that, people being systematically
abused by design had a history of going 'rogue' and whenever possible
hurting their 'owners?'

It didn't come as a great surprise to learn that they had been outlawed,
recalled, and most important from my point of view given an automatic
destroy on sight status in most countries around the world.

I couldn't quite keep the glare off my face at the thought of what all my
sisters must have gone through, giving the next meaningless question from
the doctor a snarl, wondering just why he had chosen the body he had.  As
my mind took a dark turn down that path the next unpleasant discovery made
itself known.  I could feel it, the warmth in my loins, pulse quickening,
eyes dilating, nipples… well you get the idea.  My body was designed to be
used, and worse obviously still had some kind of automatic responses to
'cultivate' that type of behavior.

Wrenching myself out of a looping spiral of thought, and physical response
I dropped my connection to the web and managed barely to focus enough on
the inane strategy behind Super Mario Brothers to get 'things' under
control, ignoring the inner voice that told me *subject response to
pheromones sufficient, likelihood proposition would be accepted 84%.*

His constant questions and tests began to make more sense.  Even the
original comment about free will.  If the others had had a mind like mine,
and a will chained only by a loyalty or slave program they undoubtedly
would have worked out ways around it just as quickly as I was working my
way into the world wide web.

It was a relief  when after another few minutes of short irritated
responses he took the hint and left me alone, slipping back out the door to
give me time to cool off.  Forgoing even the effort of pretending to be
interested in the computer now I just threw myself onto the bed and pulled
the sheets up over my head.  Suspicious as hell, erratic as hell maybe but
I was too upset to care.

Diving back into the web I tried to lose myself in its random paths but
even failed at that.  My mind bringing me to file after file of information
on boomers, article after article about the 33-S from it's early rave
reviews to the later fear mongering that shut it down.

An hour later he interrupted my sulk with lunch.  Not a real one, but he
did bring me a melon soda and I accepted his peace token as we started
again to test the limits of my memory.  This time he answered a few of the
questions I gave him, taking turns instead of the straight interrogation
earlier.  It was nice even if…*subject exhibiting courting behavior,
attempting to build trust, likelihood desiring physical congress 76%.*

I found the world to be fascinating.  I had always wondered as I grew up
what the future would hold, and here it was.  Not quite shiny clean white
or dark gothic black as had been predicted at the turn of the millennium
but the more grungy cyberpunk, with a mix of high tech and low violence
predicted by the 80's.  Cutting edge wonder and crumbling infrastructure
even language blending together the whole world a melting pot.  It was near
perfectly predicted by Blade Runner years and years ago.



With that I decided to follow the example of Pris Roy and the Replicants.  I
had to escape, it was the only answer, the sooner the better, and with that
new goal in mind I stopped wandering at random and started trying to figure
out just where I was.  Not Genom Tower, I had seen that megalith in
pictures on the web, and if in there I would have given up, that place was
like an artificial mountain and I doubted I could have found my way out
even if I was given the chance to go freely.

Actually searching 'local' information the lab I was in didn't publicly
exist, and it certainly didn't have a street address but  I was able to
learn quite a bit about the layout.  It wasn't by finding blueprints but
through carefully tracing the internal network connections.

I deduced it had another room hooked up like the one I was currently in,
unoccupied, and three other rooms in use.  I suspected they were offices
for the doctors here from the differing set up.  You might think it would
be easy, once inside a network to control it.  Take my word for this, it's
not.  Once inside a system it expects you to belong, there's nothing a
computer likes less than programs sending out unauthorized commands to it's
own hard drives without knowing where they come from.  It's far easier to
mistakenly transmit gibberish than the proper code to control something
once you leave the realm of information intended for human consumption and
comprehension.

MacAfee must have come a long way because as I tried to get control of the
camera's I was booted entirely, a prickly uncomfortable feeling, like being
aware of every inch of skin and everything touching it all at once my only
legacy of the attempt.  I guess being a supper hacker was a bit
premature.  Still
I could get just about anywhere, it was 'writing' data not reading it that
was the problem.  Still hacking security I felt was my best lead on how to
get out.  So, I went out looking again for the only 'real' hacker I knew.

In the meantime I played possum with the doctors, going so far as to help
out eagerly with their tests, watching closely for what worked to make them
at ease and let down their guard.  To my disgust it seemed mostly to
consist of letting my bodies reactions free reign.  A shift here, running
fingers through my hair there, and always that little quiet internal voice
evaluating my success.

I was learning almost as much from them as they must have from me.  It was
impressive just how good a job they had done in subverting all of the
intentional safeguards built into the 33-S class of boomer, and more,
securing it from external tampering.

They told me it was the last test.  To make sure I couldn't be hacked and
lose my independence.  This last effort began when they brought in a new
guy, who was instructed to try and hack my mind both wirelessly and wired.  He
grinned at me lecherously not seeing a person at all.  Not that he should,
they didn't tell him that part.

I just smiled back cheerfully not letting on that I had heard that Bastard
Kechina telling him if he succeeded he could do whatever he wanted with me
and it didn't take much imagination to guess why the nerd was so motivated.
Unfortunately seeing the naked desire in his eyes made me want to squirm in
my seat, the feelings of arousal hard to tamp down as they rose up in synch
with his own obvious interest.

The wireless attempt wasn't so bad, it just gave me a slight headache at
the feeling of a bone numbing rain inside my skull until I figured out how
to simply shut down my receivers.  From the fit he threw I apparently
shouldn't have been able to do that, cutting off his attempt prematurely.  His
frustration was a balm to my soul.

Then he handed me a cable.  "Here, connect this to your maintenance jack."  It
should give him direct access to my mind, that jack was designed to bypass
my security and give root user access.  It was with a nervous swallow that
I did as I was told, the last thing I wanted was to be strapped down for
refusing and helpless for this test.

This time I skipped the rain and went straight to 20,000 leagues under the
sea.  It felt like I had been immersed in ice water, but with intense
pressure pushing down around me making it hard to move, to think.  I let
out a low string of curses in English that only brought a smile to the
hackers face as an unwelcome warm itch that couldn't be scratched bloomed
inside my mind.

For a moment it seemed like all the work I had done familiarizing myself
with just how to move, was gone.  Clenching my fist once more required very
specific attention, a once reflexive action lost and probably the only
reason lover boy kept his teeth.  It was an eternity before he finally
threw up his hands in frustration and the pain in my mind fell back to a
dull throb my body shivering in sympathetic response to the feelings within.


I could hardly focus on what was happening outside of the hacker and my
desire to truly clean his clock.  I was only able to tamp down my violent
thoughts through a very deliberate act of will.

"It's no good, or too good, it shut me out on the wireless almost instantly.
I mean, sure it responded to the link just like it was supposed to, even
exchanging the first verifications, past the point where it should have
been impossible for it to voluntarily break contact but then suddenly it
just stopped communicating, it was like I hit a brick wall.  I had to check
to make sure there wasn't anything wrong with my hardware it was so sudden.
"

The pervert went on enthusiastically, and was almost excitedly enough about
how amazing I was, the pleasurable sensations I had at realizing he had
more than just physical desire towards me almost enough to forgive him for
calling me an it and the pain but…

Then I felt my body shudder, a reset of some kind and realized all my
learned responses were back, somehow my nervous system having rebooted
while he went on oblivious about how close he came to being kissed or
killed, depending on the dominance of body or mind.

"What's really impressive is what you've done with internal security from
the hardline side.  I had direct control over the body for almost five
seconds.  Then the overrides just stopped being effective.  Did you put in
some kind of smart system to oversee the physical just in case?  Anyway so
once I realize that's a no go it's on to the memory erasure and system
uploads, but neither worked.  It was like trying to hack a system that
didn't share the same OS.  I hope you will give me it's spec's so I can
give it another try, but I don't think anyone could hack that on the fly
without knowing what they're getting into."

Rubbing my arms just to be sure I could still feel I stayed quiet,
swallowing as I realized just how close I had come to death again.  He
wasn't, he didn't, my mind boggled as I realized they hadn't even told
their hacker I was sentient or that if he had succeeded it would have been
murder, and maybe from their perspective it wouldn't have been.

"Well yes, of course, I'm glad to see our adjustments are working properly,
are you certain you don't just need more time working or would you
definitely require more information to succeed?"  Receiving a shake of the
head Doctor Kechina let out a satisfied smile before quickly ushering the
young programmer out leaving me alone to ponder the implications of his
cutting off the testing at that point.

Lying in bed that evening I made up my mind, everything I had learned made
me think that Genom was a shady company, and that it was unlikely that any
'prototype' as I found myself in the uncomfortable position of being was
likely to see the light of day.  Even if they weren't the evil megacorp of
the comics in my youth, ready burn down the lab to conceal that anything
had ever occurred here after offing me in a molten pool of steel, I needed
to take action soon, before they took it for me.  It seemed likely that
they were coming to the end of the nice tests they could run, and once they
started in on the naughty one's they would be prepared for me to try and
run.

The first step was learning how to hack, or maybe better, getting someone
else to do it for me.  Slipping into the web once more I went searching for
my hacker friend, acquaintance?  In any case they weren't too hard to find,
and soon I was waiting just outside that final connection and pondering
what message to send.

Finally I settled for the truth.  "Hi, it's Galatea, I need your help"

I knew when they noticed the message because all other traffic through this
path stopped cold for a good 30 seconds, all the while I kept my fingers
crossed that they wouldn't just go.

I knew my gamble paid off when I finally did get the reply.  "As long as
you don't want to play Global Thermonuclear war, I live here, it has my
stuff."

Letting out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding since I started in
the real world I just went for as much of the truth as I thought they would
believe.  "I'm trapped in a lab and need help getting out.  I can't hack
the security by hand… do you have something that would help?"  I wasn't
quite sure how they would take that admission but it wasn't as bad as it
could have been or as good.  They didn't offer to do it themselves but…

"Well, I could give you something that should crash everything, if you can
get it inside, do you have the system specs or anything more I can go on?"

"Yes" I quickly responded, and included more than a little of the technical
and version information I was able to read from the system transmitting it
across.

"This is great.  I can have something ready tomorrow night.  Is that soon
enough?"

"No, noon at the latest, please I'll owe you one."

"Okay, it’s a deal."  And just like my first steps towards freedom were
complete.

Under the guise of getting a fresh set of clothing I continued my plans.  I
didn't know who would be leaving the complex but I was certain I could
convince doctor Sutekina to get me at least one other outfit to wear.  That
morning after he shared a soda with me, I asked him about it.

"Doctor?" I said, stepping close and giving in to the little hints and
suggestions of my subconscious programing.  Intruding into his personal
space I pulled at the materiel of my jumpsuit, drawing his attention down
to my perfectly manufactured breasts as I let go and let the material
limply fall back drawing his eye with it.  "Do you think you could get me
something else to wear?  This outfit is nice but…" I repeated the process
this time drawing his attention to my hips, "It's getting kind of worn and
boring.  I would really like something else to wear."  I stepped just a
tiny bit closer to him then, so that my warm breath would be barely
perceptible against his neck following internal prompting that just felt
natural, knowing just what to do next to wrap him around my little finger.
*Pheromone dispersal complete, time to maximum effect 24 seconds.*

Consciously thinking about it I could hardly believe it was possible anyone
would fall for it, could be that easy to manipulate.  Something inside me
knew better though, knew that this close his mind would be fogged by the
pheromone's I had just started producing and that the bare hope of my
approval would get him moving.

As he nodded an eager yes, suddenly in a hurry to go I took his hand in
mine, counting his pulse against my fingertips, measuring its rate of
increase and finding it just right whispered in a throaty voice, "Thank you
very much, I can hardly wait for you to get back." And guided him to the
door.  As it closed I quickly slipped back into the computer network,
paying close attention to the changes in the electronic security, which
doors had to open and in what order.  It was a nervous ten minutes before I
was certain I had succeeded and convinced him to go shopping right away.

It took only a little more than fifteen minutes to meet up once more with
my hacker friend and prepare the ‘package’ they gave me for activation once
it was time to go.  It would only give me fifteen minutes but I hoped that
would be enough to at least get clear of the building.

I stayed connected for the hour and a half it took the doctor to
return.  Tweaking
my plan, memorizing maps of the city and worming my way to the heart of the
security system though truth be told, I didn't know enough about programing
to know if where I released the virus would mater.  It was just set it up
so that once I copied it over to the system all it would do is repeat the
previous day’s readings leaving all doors unlocked and cameras not
recording.  I just hoped that would be enough.

It was odd, I was a machine, shouldn’t that mean my heart wouldn’t race, I
wouldn’t hear a rushing in my ears as the moment of truth approached?  I
could hear footsteps in the hall as the world dimmed, each step seeming to
take longer than the last until finally Doctor Sutekina opened the door to
my room with to my vast relief, a bag of cloths in hand.

Now not questioning my bodies instincts for a moment I was on him before
the door had a chance to shut, disengaging from the computer network with
but a thought as I set the virus in motion.

"Doctor, what did you get me?" I asked, in a too perky tone of voice
stepping close and leaning against his arm and reaching for the bag.  My
voice seemed lower but the feel of his body against mine too distracting in
a way I wished were unfathomable.  It wasn’t disturbing, actually I had
enough time to contemplate I would have felt better if it were because in
those endless seconds I realized that I liked the sensation.

Of course he had it far worse, his instinctive breath taking in another
deep whiff of pheromones and feeling an attractive woman pushing herself
against him was likely outside of his normal comfort zone so when I turned
reaching for the bag to a grapple he was taken completely by surprise.  A
quick jerk driving his head down to meet my rising knee and he was falling
almost slowly towards the floor as I snatched the bag from the air.

In a rush sound seemed to roar back into my ears, the world growing bright
as he bounced once and I caught the closing door with my foot.  Sticking
the bag in the doorjamb I laid the doctor out, frisking him quickly and
taking his keycard, wallet, his watch.  I might be able to fence it for
something, and finally his lab coat.

I felt the pulse at his neck watching his chest rise and fall something
inside doing calculations instinctively, *subject status unconscious,
minimum time until recovery one hour 15 minutes, +- 10.  *Pulling on the
coat I picked up the bag of cloths pocketed the billfold and stepped out
into the hall for the first time since I was reborn.  Maybe if the virus
failed and someone was watching on security camera's the lab coat would be
enough to keep them from paying attention and I wouldn't lose time changing
into my new, hopefully anonymous cloths.

Determination in my stride I took my first steps towards freedom.
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/ffml/attachments/20120410/dc893fa5/attachment.html>