[FFML] [BGC] Frozen Butterfly Arc 2 chapter 1

[skychan]

Hello, I'm continuing my little BGC saga now and am as before looking for
comments and critism  on this chapter.  While grammar and such is
appreciated what is more valueble are comments on style and such.  Please
read and review.


Frozen Butterfly Arc 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 1.1 – Chrysalis

I woke up surprised.

Vision a blur and eyes crusty with sleep I took that first moment to revel
in the simple process of thinking once more.  Painfully blinking my vision
remained a mess and I could feel the crusty build up on my lashes shift
uncomfortably with each movement.  Trying to lift a hand to wipe them
revealed to my lack of surprise that I was once again restrained, the
normal state of affairs for waking up it seemed.

Swallowing my throat was dry, my lips parched and I became aware for the
first time of just how cold I was, so cold I had ceased to shiver.  I could
hear vague movement around me, and slowly realized my position.  Hands
bound behind and beneath me, metal cuffs cutting into the circulation of my
wrists and back as my weight pressed down against them.

Blinking again more furiously things finally started to come into some kind
of focus, I was laying naked, tucked into a bathtub large enough to lay in,
with what looked like Jacuzzi jet's in the sides, my skin what I could see
of it an unhealthy pale blue shade, *coloration due to hibernation process
and lack of centralized respiration during improper storage.*

With that disturbing realization I took my first breath, body aching
suddenly as I could feel my heart straining to pump, insufficient fluid in
my 'veins' to provide function.  Dragging the air into my lungs anyway I
managed a soft cry for help; voice a barely audible rasp through what felt
like cotton stuffed ears.

It was worse than the shock baton.  That pain had been immediate,
overarching and bypassed whatever system let me acknowledge pain without
becoming inhibited by it.  This pain was set deep, an unending constant
ache from almost my entire body, so strong that I couldn't avoid it,
couldn't escape it, and couldn't just take that half step back from the
sensations to function despite its presence.

A shape, blurry and fuzzed, moving too fast for me to focus on came into
view, leaning over and rolling me onto my side.  A dizzying move that made
me feel like throwing up, if only there had been anything in my stomach to
expel.  The hand was hot, almost painfully so.  Five fingers feeling as
though they would brand their prints into my porcelain fine skin.

My flesh actually crackled as my wrist was manipulated and a service port
exposed.  Then warmth.  Life, light, love, longing, yearning need, nothing
can describe the sensation that began to flow through my veins.  The
blissful feeling brought with it awareness and *warning, organic
contamination of blood supply, improper restart procedure, temperature in
excess of seven degrees.  *

I didn't care, I didn't care that this new warmth might cause harm all I
cared about was that I could trace its progress by the warmth in my limbs,
how it crawled up my arm and deep into my chest before with a shuddering
beat reached my heart and began to disperse itself spreading slowly at
first but faster with each continued heartbeat.   The rushing of blood and
warmth in my ears was joined moments later by water pouring into the bath,
it too almost painfully hot triggering further warnings of improper
recovery procedures.

I still didn't care.  Intentionally closing my mind to the warnings and my
eyes to the blurry world I basked in the slowly filling tub, feeling the
water cradle my body in its embrace, calming the violent shakes and shivers
I was suffering after long moments.  Even the pain in my fingers, toes,
ears, in every extremity I had as they painfully warmed all at once was not
enough to want it to stop.  That wish came with the return of the boiling
hot hands *37.2 *degrees as they pulled me up, probably to keep me from
drowning but earning only a voiceless scream of pain from me for their
effort.

Unable to suppress my own reactions any further the next agonizing moments
passed in a blaze of pain and internal warning messages.  *System clock
normalized, functions at fifty percent efficiency, internal reserves empty,
integrated memory active, physical output jack nonfunctional,* I managed to
shunt the remaining long list of errors and injuries to a housekeeping
program blinking my eyes until in a foggy out of focus way I finally got a
good look at my reviver.

He was a fit man, probably in late middle age, somewhere between forty and
fifty with short greying hair that screamed corporate in cut.  "Shhh, shhh,
quiet now little doll, you will just have to endure."  One hand wiped my
face with a washcloth before moving down over the rest of my body in a
disturbingly complete fashion.

"I'm Flint, your new master, nod if you understand."  His tone was full of
condescension as though speaking to a five year old.  Still I nodded
carefully; breathing through my nose afraid I might let out another scream
if I opened my mouth.  *Master* was going too fast, heating me back up too
quickly and only doing more harm than good with his obviously makeshift
revival process, the heat that first brought bliss now bringing pain as my
body tried to adapt too quickly to the shift.

"Good.  You're a lucky little girl, without me you would have been
destroyed, but I'm your owner now."  He said stroking my hair almost
affectionately.  It was as if he thought I would accept it this time if I
hadn't the first.  That’s when I realized, he doesn't know.  He thinks I'm
just a boomer, that I'll have some hardwired reaction if he's my owner.

Something of my feelings must have shown on my face as I could tell he was
smiling.  "That’s right, you're mine."  Thank god he misunderstood.  "Now,
how long until you're functioning properly again and … cleaned up from all
the hibernation damage?"  His hands sliding inquisitively over my skin
making it crawl.

Consulting the still growing list of damage and warnings, I opened my mouth
trying to answer but nothing came out, I was too hoarse from my time as a
popsicle.  Quickly recognizing the problem he sat back with an annoyed
groan.  "Is it days, weeks? Good…good enough."  Well, even if he didn't
have a clue about care and maintenance at least he understood a simple nod.


Then he began a most curious interview. He began to read questions off a
piece of paper.  It seemed like some kind of physiological exam, to make
sure I was stable.  But really, who asks "Were you shut down because you
went rogue?" expecting to hear "yes."  Whoever wrote it clearly hadn't made
any allowances for the subject simply lying.

Playing my part, I tried my very best to pretend I didn't mind sitting,
handcuffed wearing skimpy lingerie in a slowly filling hot tub answering
questions for my new *master*.  It didn't really help that that's what he
expected to be called, not by name, mister, or sir, but 'master'.

I think that the only saving grace for the situation is that the effects of
hibernation were hard enough on me that I wasn't attractive enough to
deserve a comprehensive exam.  Looking down at myself, it was like I was
recovering from a case of incredibly bad sunburn combined with bouncing
down the slope of the Himalaya's.  My skin white and flaking off bit by bit
over deep purple and blue bruising was probably enough to keep him from
trying to enjoy his new acquisition right away.

An hour later after a glass of water and recovering my voice he finished
interview and persuaded that I wasn't going to go rogue, removed the cuffs.
"You may go anywhere within my suite of rooms but are not to leave this
level for any reason.  Now go clean yourself up and make a list of anything
you need to get into shape to perform all your duties."  Of course he
couldn’t be bothered to tell me what they were just then.

Doing my best to suppress the urge to rub my wrists or shoot him a
withering glance, I just nodded adding a simple, "Yes Master." and watched
him slip away.  Both of us were grateful for the respite I think.  For
myself because coming back to life really it isn't the most comfortable
thing in the world.  Especially near naked and under the judgmental gaze of
your new lord and master.  Adding in the lingering damage from improper
storage and a faulty resuscitation just made those feelings worse.

His relief I think came because manual labor was beneath him and looking
more like a dried plum than a peach and he must have been having second
thoughts about risking so much to own me – I'm not a genius but even a
Neanderthal would have realized, from all the shortcuts and problems with
the revival process, that his owning me had to be shady at best, and more
likely highly illegal.

Finally warm, my body now at an organics-sustaining temperature and granted
a moment of privacy I turned on the bubbles.  It felt nice to lose that top
layer of dead, broken epidermis wiping myself clean with a soft
washcloth.  Everything
still ached terribly but it had fallen to that odd level of awareness
without impairment I've noticed before.  I began the job of cleaning myself
up.

It was still slightly embarrassing not to really know my own body and I
spent a few minutes of the soak correcting that as I scoured myself free of
dead cells.  My vision was still foggy and imprecise, something my
housekeeping systems informed me was due to hibernation damage and improper
warming procedures.  It might get better or I might need glasses.

Who ever heard of a robot needing glasses?

Finally finished and rinsing off quickly beneath a massaging showerhead I
stepped from the extravagant bath and finding nothing else wrapped a towel
around my body in lieu of real clothing.  Cautiously exploring
*master's*rooms it didn't take too long to learn the extent of my
gilded cage.
As best I could tell his rooms were near the apex of a small corporate
mountain built to reflect Genom tower and the pyramids before it.  I had a
very nice view out two windows, afternoon sun shining in to illuminate the
room brightly, or at least I think it did.  Squinting I could make out
Fuji-san and the Genom tower or at least fuzzy approximations thereof.

With a bit more searching and squinting I managed to find a short robe that
would fit as well as the tragically shredded remains of my last outfit in
the trash.  It looked like *master* had cut them off with a dull scissors.  On
the up side I found the lingerie Dr. Sutekina had purchased me still in the
pockets.  While lacy and generally impractical I felt much better prepared
to face the rest of the apartment with that second layer of protection no
matter how slight.

Thus fortified and looking distressingly appropriate to my new role of
house toy I found his study on quiet feet, the sound of the television
echoing down the hall to me.  Inside I quickly found his computer password
protected as a matter of course, and while my hardline output was fried my
wireless was working just fine.  It took little time to worm my way inside
wading through the spider silk webs barring passage to my digital self
before I could once more spread my wings and fly.

The first thing I did was check the date.  It was still 2032, almost six
months since the last time I breathed fresh air, an estimate that seemed in
tune with the way degradation of my organs matched up with internal
estimates.  I was just sitting down in his large comfortable desk chair
looking for a pad of paper to compile the list he required when – in a rush
– exhaustion overtook me* energy reserves and production at insufficient
levels for current operational pace*.  Eyes drifting shut, quickly I fell
into a deep regenerative sleep.

~~~~~~

I woke to the muted sounds of someone walking through the apartment
suite.  Ravenously
hungry and more thirsty than I could ever recall being, I look up to see
Flint pulling off a dark suit coat and stepping into his own office clearly
back from wherever his business had taken him while I slept.  Swallowing
once I spoke up, "Master," I almost begged for something to eat but held
back at the last moment something in his posture warning me an explanation
better come before any requests.  "Please forgive me but recovery has
exhausted my internal stores."  Though blurred I could see him relax
slightly and nod.

"Please, could I have something to eat, so that I might continue repairs?"  My
stomach was doing gymnastics at this point both from wanting to cannibalize
itself for my survival and at the servile tone I was adopting towards
him.  Still
it seemed to be working.  *Subject mood shifting towards protective body
language, high probability of acceding to request*.  Moments later he had
helped me move to a kitchen chair and was pouring me a glass of juice.

"Of course in the future preparing dinner will be one of your duties," he
chuckled a little as he put some miso soup into the microwave, "along with
taking care of my needs rather than depending on me to take care of yours."
His voice was strangely tender almost caring as he set the table.  Standing
under my own power, *emergency reserves at 4%,* I walked to join him,
wavering a little unsteady on my feet.  Sitting down heavily beside him, I
cursed my worthless eyes that I couldn't see clearly enough to judge his
intentions.

"Now that you are up and feeling better, what will you need for a full
recovery Amber?"  Flint asked, some of his grandfatherly charm slipping
beneath the possessive eagerness I could hear in his tone.  My first
instinct won over playing good little robot though as I asked, "Amber?" my
confusion clearly obvious.

"Yes, I chose it based on your sequence designation 4m83r, I thought it
rather clever myself." He seemed far too smug for someone ripping off
Sequential Art, an old if entertaining web-comic.  Still if it would make
him happy who was I to argue the point.  "Yes Sir, Master," I added
remembering to be properly servile as my body rejoiced in as I started to
digest that first glass of grape juice.

Pulling myself away from the relaxing sensation of my stomach no longer
trying to eat my spine I called up my internal error log.  It was long and
depressing, but the priority was easy enough to find.  "The most important
component for recovery is a fresh supply of synthetic blood, type 8100 D,
though any 8100 series would be compatible.  With that and proper nutrition
I should be able to complete self-repairs in four days."

His face started to go blank, the kindness vanishing into the corporate
shark of his real self, his voice laced with irritation and anger as he
replied, "I am your Master, and you will have to do without any fancy
precious synthetic blood and make due with ordinary plasma like the rest of
us."  *Master using anger to mask uncertainty and shame behind inability to
procure 8100 D series I thought *after a moment's panic at his tone only
marginally relaxing as I realized the true reason for his anger.

"Then it may take longer Master, Human blood is an inferior medium for
operational considerations."  I managed to respond without letting the
disappointment or sudden apprehension I felt into my tone.  "Further due to
organic contaminants I will require regular transfusions to remain
operational."  This last consideration was a real concern to me as I
realized the limitation even as I informed him of it.

"Good, good. That won't be a problem then.  I can have a steady supply
available, just make sure to get well quickly.  I worked hard to find you
and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of enjoying my prize." he
grinned in satisfaction and slowly got up from the table.  His attention no
longer really focused on me as he began to monologue.

"Impossible to get on earth neh, banned, neh?  This will show those
self-satisfied pricks up on Genaros.  Think they're better just because
they have a harem?  Their boomers are just common laborers, grease monkeys
and dust bunnies at best.  With you I have the real deal, my own little
French Maid… and we'll see if I share when they come down to visit ME."  I
began to rise, instincts telling me it was a bad idea to sit if
*master*was standing.


"Eat, and get strong my little Amber, I'll have more than enough use for
you soon enough."  He said, moving around behind me.  Taking a feat of will
not to turn my head to track him I stood still, his footsteps lost in the
deep carpet of the floor.  I almost dropped the glass of juice in hand as
his fingers brushed lightly through the hair at the nape of my neck.  "You'll
need to grow this out."

"I prefer long hair."

"Of course…" I murmured as his fingers brushed the shoulder of my robe
gently pushing me back down to sit before he turned heading down the hall,
leaving me to my own devices and to finish the meal alone.  I could hear
him in the study booting up his computer and delving into whatever it is
disturbing executives do at night.

At the not so subtle urge from my stomach I swiftly finished the glass of
juice and soup.  Finding both glass and bowl bare then – quietly,
unobtrusively – I went to the kitchen in search of more.  My steps
lethargic and my throat already feeling parched once more – I could almost
feel my body desperately working to break down the nutrients to speed
recovery.

Filling my glass full of water to sip I went through his refrigerator I
found a small supply of premade dinners that just needing to be taken out
and warmed up to be ready to eat.  Paying more attention to the quality of
ingredients than taste I picked some kind of whitefish and salad.  I
finished this second full dinner – incredible given my small stomach –
before I carried the plates to the kitchen.

I was careful to clean up the mess and dishes meticulously.  I didn't think
Flint was the kind of man to be upset over clutter; from how meticulously
everything in his apartment was kept I knew he was.  Add to that his short
burst of temper earlier and I knew I didn't want to give him any reason to
be upset at me.

As the sky went from blue to black, stars washed out by the city glow, he
shut down his computer and came to find me.  Without a word he led me into
the bathroom and turned on all the lights to examine me more closely.  Heart
racing I considered my options.

I could fight, but my body still ached, I was exhausted almost all my
energy going into self-repairs and hadn't had a chance to build back up any
real reserve.  *Probability of failure high.  *Seduce him.  While I was
strangely comfortable with the general concept, my skin still wanted to
crawl at the touch of his hand on my arm.  Besides *master's pulse even,
pupil reaction normal, indications of clinical interest.*

He rubbed his fingers against my skin, the top layer dry, coarse and
flacking again before pulling his hand back.  "Not tonight," he thought out
loud, glancing around the room.  "You'll sleep on the sofa until I decide
that you've recovered adequately to join me in bed.  I want breakfast ready
at six thirty."

That said he hustled me out of the room and shut the door in my face.  To
tell the truth, all I felt was relief so strong I nearly stumbled on my way
to the sofa.  Lying down, I let my eyes shut, locking away the blurry
outside world in favor of my imagination.

In the morning I woke to the sounds of the door opening.  It was
*6:00:05*as I blinked my eyes open and stumbled to my feet, squinting
down the
hallway to see the door to the master bedroom still shut.  Turning my head
I tracked the sound of steps coming from the front door of the suite down
the hall each one smooth and as regular as a metronome.  Smoothing out the
robe I wore and giving up any hope of running I simply stood still and
watched what might conceivably be the blurry figure of a very proper
English butler step into the room.

"May I help you?" I asked, blinking and squinting to get him in focus.

"Pardon me Ma'am, but Mr. Flint has left standing instructions that his
breakfast is to be ready at 06:30.  While I am certain that he is grateful
for your, ahem, companionship last evening he will be quite cross should I
fail in my duties."

That’s when my conscious and subconscious came to a singular conclusion, *
Boomer!*  It was obvious now. The butler's step hadn't faltered as he
entered the room, there was no nervous shifting, no incidental motion, no
indication that he was suddenly in the presence of a near naked and
attractive woman or, if my skin was still flacking off a dreadful one.  Either
way his complete lack of reaction was confusing to me.

"Of course, don't let me stop you.  I'll just, sit quietly out of the way,
here, if that’s alright?"  I said while, watching the boomer warily, trying
to understand just what it was my body wasn't telling me about it, but the
butler simply clicked his heals lightly and offered a polite bow before
moving swiftly on with the process of making a light Japanese breakfast.  The
motions were obviously practiced and precise, and he only hesitated once
when fetching the table setting.  I must not have put everything back just
right.

It was actually a great relief to have this other boomer here, doing what I
had expected was to be my job.  It occurred to me that he didn't know what
I was, probably why he was sent away last night so even his boomer couldn't
betray Mr. Flint's new secret.  I toyed with the idea of simply
volunteering that information but in the end held my tongue.

Sitting back down on the couch I let my concentration drift and made myself
as inconspicuous as possible, enjoying the complete lack of physical
imperatives being around my *master* incurred.  An angry shout from the
bedroom interspersed with calm English accented Japanese drew me back to
the here and now.  Before I could start listening in the conversation
dropped below my ability to discriminate their voices *25 dB given
background interference, *as the door to the bedroom shut and five minutes
later Mr. Flint, looking rather more composed than he had sounded stepped
out into the main room.

"Jarvis, this is Amber.  She will be joining my staff as a maid…"  I
thought he shot me a look but given his face was mostly a blur I couldn't
decide for certain what it meant although I could feel his eyes crawling
over my skin as he did so.  "I want you to see to her outfitting and
familiarization.  She is not to leave my quarters.  If anything outside is
required, you are to see to its acquisition.  She is to have access to the
accounts for living expenses and will be taking over meal service and
preparation.  Due to… a disease she will require blood transfusions,
initially several in succession and then likely on a weekly or monthly
basis."

The butler nodded once.  "It shall be done," a very English pause and then
"Your breakfast awaits sir."

After the quick meal *Master *Flint took me aside, heart rate accelerating
before he paused just inside his bedroom and closed the door.  "You are not
to reveal to anyone what you are for any reason.  If asked you are simply
my employee, and you are here because you want to be.  Is that understood?"

I nodded, instincts driving me to give a servile bow before I had even made
up my mind what to do.  I spoke up softly words coming to my lips unbidden,
"Yes Master, I understand" This close I could see his eyes as I looked up
and knowing it wasn't enough added, "I won't let you down."  Gripping my
chin as I rose he looked my face over closely, brushing aside a few flakes
of dry skin revealing the healthy fresh pink layer beneath.  "Good." his
gaze lingering on my lips as I gave them a nervous lick, "Good, I will see
you when I return."

As he swept out I felt my pulse begin to slow once more.  There had been
something in his eye, an avaricious need I didn't trust.  *Pulse,
respiration and pupil dilation indicate sexual attraction.  *The protection
afforded by my long stasis was wearing away; I would have to be careful to
maintain it as long as possible.

It didn't take long for Jarvis to finish cleaning up in the kitchen or in
the *master's *bedroom and he finished doing both before I finished
breakfast.  Soon enough it was back and facing me with its considering
cold, almost human eyes and disdainful English look on its face.  Strangely
I didn't feel pressured to speak as it gazed at me disapproving.  "Very
well madam, it appears you are to assist me in my duties.  I do not have
any need for assistance, but as the master has requested, I will allow you
to take over the care and preparation of his meals."  Gesturing imperiously
he moved towards the kitchen.  Tapping a panel aside revealed a computer
built into the face of the refrigerator.

"This is the current inventory.  You may set item stock levels and any
deficiencies shall be remedied during the 2:00 PM delivery each day.  It
automatically tracks quantity, and freshness.  Complete meals may also be
selected, either for delivery at a specific time, or for later preparation."
It seemed to have one speed only, boring, and I spent the next three hours
sitting, standing, leaning or laying across various parts of the kitchen
listening to it go on and on, listing each and every item available to me.

It was actually kind of fun to see just how the uber rich lived, or at
least those that cooked for them, and I knew that the meals cooked to order
would be my best friend in not making a fool of myself.  Still, despite the
itch to start playing around right then, to see if I could still cook my
favorite dishes I resisted, there was more to show me.

Thankfully the kitchen 'tour', in as much as a three hour briefing without
pauses for breath without actually going anywhere can be considered one was
the only room where I was replacing Jarvis in his duties.  It crisply
informed me "I will see to all of the Master and your other needs, there
will be no cause for you to interfere or disrupt the household.  Do you
understand?"

I couldn't really think of Jarvis as a He, it just didn't give off the
right signals, not even the right cues for a gay man I realized, just why I
would need that knowledge a curiosity until I realized how it might impact
a sexaroid to made a mistake in that area.  Considering that the inclusion
of that knowledge made a lot more sense.  "Ah yes, I believe that I do
Jarvis."  I answered making my own tone formal by choice, and slightly
mocking.

I was actually enjoying the freedom to just be myself, without the need to
constantly respond to his subliminal ques.  It was almost enough to make me
want to give him a hug.  So when Jarvis told me that the female uniforms,
plural I would point out, had already been selected and that I was to strip
so that he could order the correct sizes I did so without a second thought
even though I could have reeled them off to the millimeter.  Stripping
naked for Jarvis just wasn't an issue and I was as comfortable with the
idea of being naked around him doing the measuring as I would have been
alone.

My calm reserve lasted until 2:13:15 pm when I was to have my first
transfusion and dialysis.  To be honest I had been looking forward to it
all day.  Low priority warnings about my blood supply breaking down due to
the strain of regenerating of my body's tissues had been growing more
serious since noon.  Add the considerable pleasure I recalled of the
feeling of warmth pouring into my veins when I woke up and I was almost
eager for the procedure.

The only real problem I had was… needles.  Jarvis sat me down in the main
room, pulling a small suitcase sized dialysis machine from the hall closet
to my side before taking out two very large very long very pointy needles
one for each hand.  I don't know why, boomer or not, but I almost jumped up
and ran when it reached for me with them.  Heightened senses, with the
ability to mute pain or not are very unfriendly when combined with a phobia.


As the first needle pierced my arm, only Jarvis' iron grip kept me in the
chair.  I felt myself slipping trying desperately to get away, *warning
combat mode unsustainable, insufficient energy reserves, blood supply
unstable, reducing respiration, regulating pulse, *but the body was just
unable.  Finally after what seemed to be ages of dread, my eyes fixed on
the needles and the feel of thin steel pressing into my veins, autonomic
sub routines kicked in to protect my body from myself forcing an
unreasonable unrelenting calm.

A soft hum kicked on and I could feel my blood beginning to cycle.  Unlike
before the new blood didn't bring with it a bloom of warmth.  It was
chilly, a little shiver of cool working its way through my body.  It might
have been wonderful on a hot sunny day but inside it just gave the process
a more surreal feel.

Keeping my eyes shut wasn't helping me cope so I opened them up to squint
at my arm.  When it came into focus the results were rather disturbing.  Fresh
and bright red blood, *medical grade whole blood, incidence of contaminants
3%, compatibility with system 92% estimated half life at current rate of
use 20 hours,* flowed in.  What came out was, despite my recent
hyperventilation a vague sickly brownish purple and I cut off the detailed
analysis before I accidently made myself ill knowing exactly how much
detritus from the recovery process was being flushed out with it.

Still despite the chill it was invigorating.  I could feel myself becoming
more alert and responsive.  A sluggishness I had not even noticed setting
in washing away with the thicker disturbingly tar like sludge leaving my
veins.  Jarvis was thankfully silent throughout the process, changing out
bag after bag and two filters for the machine before we were done.

Pulling the needles free made my stomach want to crawl up my throat and
choke the butler but I managed to swallow back my psychosomatic gorge and
offer a strained smile in place of intestinal homicide.  As he cleaned up I
left him for the bathroom the urge to scrub and clean outside as well as in
hitting me.

I stripped out of the robe and lingerie before stepping into the western
style shower.  I could have used the more traditional furo/hot tub
arrangement again but I wanted to scrub off and feel water pounding between
my shoulder blades.

What I hadn't really given much thought was that this was my first shower,
as long as you don't count the rain.  It was… different.  My skin was
recovering well and with it my sensitivity.  It wasn't two minutes before I
had to bite my lip to stifle a soft moan as I really learned my body for
the first time.  In the end I gave Flint's water heater a good test, but in
half an hour of constant near steaming use the temperature never wavered so
much as a degree.  It took the same thing to snap me out of my explorations
that drew me into them.  My body communicating its needs to my mind.  *Alert,
internal temperature level and duration nearing danger point to organic
components.   *

Stepping clear a bit reluctantly I caught sight of myself in the foggy
steamed up mirror.  The combination of steam and fuzzy vision mean all I
could see was pink.  My entire body flushed from the scouring and…
attention I had given myself with a loofa and the heat of the water.  Stepping
back I held my arms up close squinting and frowned as smooth unblemished,
if frightfully red, skin came into focus.

I would need a plan.  *Master* was coming home tonight, and now I no longer
looked or felt like a leper.  That made me think about what he would want,
and merged with my recent experience in the shower I no longer had any
doubt how my body would react.  The physical need that seemed to grow with
that thought automatic and disturbing enough that I quickly forced all
thoughts of the *master, *out of my mind and hurriedly toweled off.

I was about to call for Jarvis, my robe missing when I spotted a pile of
black and white neatly stacked at the far end of the counter.

It was the first of my uniforms.

I don't know who sold this kind of thing but it definitely hadn't come from
a hotel or uniform supply company I had ever imagined, at least not the
kind that dealt in bulk.  Maybe a costume shop, but even employees at a
maid café wouldn’t be caught in such a stereotypical and slinky French Maid
outfit.

By the time I was done putting on and properly arranging the entire
ensemble the mirror had cleared.  Looking at my reflection, and the image I
presented even with my poor vision I knew I needed a plan.  Squinting to
bring me mostly into focus my determination to avoid his hungers just grew.
My first thought was Tryptophan, but worried that might not be enough I
quickly made my way to the refrigerator's automatic ordering system and
worked through finding and ordering the most potent sleeping aid I could
find.

I decided a dinner heavy on pasta with some red wine would give me the best
chance to conceal the drug's flavor in some part of the meal; both the
sauce and wine hopefully options for a transmission vector.  I did not plan
to share *my masters* bed tonight no matter my recalcitrant bodies response
to the concept.  I would do whatever necessary to keep him from having the
chance to ask.

He got home about six *5:57:46*, or possibly it would be more accurate to
say he moved from the business offices to his living quarters at that time.
If I couldn't see the Genom tower in the distance I would have thought this
building a fine example of an arcology.  Of course Jarvis was waiting for
him at the door to take his coat, and I, like a good, obedient little
servant was ready to drop the pasta just as he arrived.

Joining the welcome home ritual with a cheerful if false voice I stayed
behind the kitchen island, hoping its bulk would provide some
protection.  "Welcome
home Master, dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Glancing over at me the older man cocked his head to one side, *subject
interest captured, *I thought, part of me assessing the many way's I could
with just a slight shift of weight or expression work to use that interest
against him.  But all of those behaviors my subconscious wanted to employ
would only increase his focus on me and that was the last thing I wanted,
no matter how my body was reacting to his return.  "Ah Amber, now that is
far more flattering.  I hope you're recovering well…" He reached out to run
his fingers across the top my apron, fingers tracing the stark white on
black of the silken fabric over my stomach before sliding them upward.

Flinching at the touch breath hitching I spoke up quickly slipping out of
reach as I distracted him with my answer.  "Unfortunately my body has not
fully recovered from my time in," choking off the rest of the sentence,
only just managing not to say too much in front of Jarvis.  I worked my
mouth several times, mind awhirl before just deciding it was programing
just common sense that lead me to stop and remained speechless faking a bit
of confusion and turning to just stare at Jarvis.

My heart was pounding, and I could feel the lingering heat of his touch, a
hand rising up to brush at the silk to remove the phantom trace of his
fingers.

I'm either a bad actor, too accomplished.  Then again possibly *Master* is
just slow, but he did seem to catch on after an eternity *32.3 seconds* of
frowning at me and my behavior.  "Of course your illness.  Are there any
other complications that you haven't managed to overcome yet due to your
treatment?"

How could he be so daft?  I felt like stomping a foot.  In one breath he's
willing to believe I'm so dense as to be unable to even speak, much less
cover for a near slip while in the very next he's presuming I would make
the connection between a mythical illness and lingering damage from my
hibernation.  Couldn't he make up his mind on if I was smarter or stupider
than a dog?  Well at least it should be easier to trick him this way and I
wouldn't even have to lie.

"Yes sir, unfortunately while my skin has recovered nicely," no longer the
cherry red straight from the shower but a distressingly fair natural peach.
Putting just the right note of dismay into my tone I answered.  "I am
afraid that I still have significant internal bruising and other injuries.  I
will be unable to partake of any stressful physical activities for a little
while longer."  I knew I had him when his face fell slightly.  I guess I
was a good actress and I reassured myself, it wasn't a lie.  My own
processors had prevented me from shifting to combat perception earlier.

"Well, damn… but I do hope you're sufficiently recovered soon, I'm looking
forward to breaking you in properly."  Stepping close he considered me a
moment more.  "I do like your hair" Reaching up he brushed a thumb over my
cheek.  "And skin soft as a baby's bottom, I'm looking forward to seeing
the rest, hurry up and recover."  Turning his back he shuffled to the table
and threw himself down into the chair, the very picture of frustrated
longing.

His mood served to bring me down a little as well.  It was hard to hold
onto the feeling of quiet satisfaction his easy acceptance of my ploy had
given me.  I realized with a slowly growing horror that I, no my Body,
hadn't wanted him to be fooled and had to pay close attention throughout
the meal to keep from acting in a way to undo all my efforts.

He did however perk up a bit with the meal, thanks to the wonder of
unlimited spending and a truly cosmopolitan shopping service I had managed
to put together a rather nice spaghetti sauce from scratch I recalled from
my life before.  As the moment of decision came it was the nerve rattling
arousal that kept me from holding back the sleeping medication.  He wasn't
going to try anything now but I just needed the extra assurance it gave me.


Dismissing Jarvis from the apartment entirely for the meal he instructed me
to join him.  Making up another plate, a single forkful of noodles a
spoonful of sauce, sliver of French bread and a large glass of water I sat
down across from him.  I had already almost filled up just tasting as I
cooked and wasn't sure I could finish even the modest portion on my plate.

"I'm sorry I almost let my nature slip.  I'm not used to the requirement to
hide it."  Hoping to guide the conversation somewhat I went on.  "It isn't
strictly legal for you to possess me here is it Master, I mean you won't
get in trouble will you?"  I felt compelled to add that little bit more, to
hide the real reason I was asking, and it was just… right to do so.

Pausing in appreciation of the meal, but without offering a compliment to
me he considered his answer a moment before starting to explain.  "No, it
is no longer permitted to own or operate a 33-S on earth, and getting an
appropriate waiver is rather difficult.  However that isn't something you
need to concern yourself over.  I have taken all the appropriate steps and
precautions when acquiring you.  Genom records show you were destroyed, and
I made certain that none of the internal tracking systems were functional
before you were … moved from storage here.  There is nothing for anyone to
discover, you're mine now."

Taking another few bites he reached out catching my hand, a churning
confusion in my stomach keeping me from pulling back in time.  Gently his
fingers brushed across my skin.  It felt nice, a languor spreading through
me at his touch before my thoughts snapped back into focus with his
words.  "It's
why you'll have to subsist without the appropriate artificial blood supply.
It is no longer being produced on earth and making arrangements for it to
be smuggled down from Genaros would draw too much attention.  But don't
worry; you can function perfectly well with regular transfusions."

Letting my hand go and returning to his meal Flint was definitely proud of
his work around for me, As though he had been the one to design in the
capability, and must have taken my silence for agreement.  Really I was
just trying to analyze why I felt the momentary pang of loss as
*Master's * hand
let go of mine, focused on the lingering impression of his touch for the
rest of the meal, answering him on autopilot, a fraction of my attention
enough to engage him at a socially acceptable level showing interested in
his day and approval of his opinions.  The rest of my mind was caught in a
spiral trying to figure out my own odd reactions to him since I had woken
up.

After the meal I spent a few minutes cleaning up while Flint logged on and
did a little after dinner work.  But this time I was monitoring the
connection as he logged in and caught his password.  Now instead of just
mild access to the internet I could investigate his own secure system as
well.

Catching my arm as Jarvis returned to tend the apartment Flint drew me down
to sit close beside him on the sofa flipping on a late night talk show.  Its
guests participated in bizarre challenges such as who could get through a
whip cream castle the fastest without getting dirty and doing my best to
laugh with him and keep his wandering fingers as far down my leg as
possible.

Splitting my attention between his computer network and my body was
normally not that hard.  But feeling him so close, his body heat warming my
side was a trial in and of itself.  I could tell that the drugs were
working, just not fast enough.  It had hardly taken more than a minute
after sitting down for his fingers to make their way onto my thigh.

My mind recoiled at the touch, but forcing myself not to do anything
drastic, hands in tight little fists and buried in the cushions beside me I
took every chance I could to edge away from him and keep his fingers
slipping down rather than up my thigh.

The really concerning part is that I wasn't uncomfortable with his touch
just the implications.  His fingers slightly rough, and warm felt nice on
my thigh and the limited attention I could spare to the real world was
doing its best not to bolt in discomfort or give in to the urge to lean
into his side, instinct and intellect fighting fiercely.

The rest of me was busy with another battle on his private network.  Trying
to ferret out information on myself was easy, until I realized that
everything I found was a lie.  Amber did exist electronically at least, if
not on paper.  The identity he had acquired for me was very complete, and
included a rather demeaning debt peonage agreement I couldn't imagine was
legal to explain my presence here.  Little details in his personal files,
photos and search histories, also gave rather disturbing hints as to just
where his mind was at when he had selected my uniform and it's primary
variations.

I also found plenty of information on GPCC, the research arm of Genom.  The
building I was in was a mini-tower, focused on work as a subcontractor for
the Japanese Defense forces.  The computer was full of information on *Master's
*passcodes, overrides and the security procedures for the building.  But
dig as I could, no matter how many of his files I wandered through feeling
the electronic version of blisters rising on my mind from looking through
too many too fast nothing seemed to reference how he acquired me in the
first place.  Until I accidently stepped off his system, but instead of
plunging into the wide web found my footing steady on something that wasn't
there.

It felt cold slick, but while I couldn't see the path I could feel it, a
ghost drive hidden from his own system but now that I had stumbled across
it growing more and more obvious.  I let out a surprised and slightly
triumphant giggle at the discovery, or perhaps because *Master *had pulled
me into his side, either way all of me knew that this was what I had been
looking for.

Moments later I was shivering, his arm around my back curling in, fingers
tracing the edge of my breast before I could squirm just enough to get my
arm back into the way, buying myself a few more inches of safety.  "Are you
cold, here, come closer…" Flint invited, and I couldn't really object, my
nervous shivers only growing as he pulled me tighter to his side.  It was
nerve wracking how clearly I could guess his intentions my only lingering
hope the drugs I had given him.

That being the case I put more effort into searching his system, trying to
focus as much of myself on something else as I could.  Flint was not an
honest man.  I was far from his only foray into illegal operations.  In
fact it seemed he had his finger in any number of corrupt pies.  Politicians
and Officials both listed on his payroll.  Some owing him favors others
being blackmailed for their support.  It included a complicated flowchart
indicating who held power and control over who else.  Near the top of that
chart was Brian Mason, my creator himself.  Flint was on it too, and while
powerful in his own right there were acknowledged links between him and
several other top officials he was clearly trying to break.

That lead to his plans to acquire power.  He had an extensive file on
orbital beam satellites including technical specifications and information
about a new encryption system being developed for mobile networking with
them.

I had known we were in the future, lived my entire life aware that there
were enough nuclear missiles to destroy the world, but familiarity breeds
contempt and that threat had grown dim with time, these satellites could do
the same job in minutes maybe seconds, and it looked like he was working
with Mr. Mason to get his own hands on them.

Moving to the next file as *Master's *fingers stroked my arm just beneath
the short poof of sleeve, Goosebumps rising at the touch, I came across
another shocking revelation.  He was making arrangements to sell a
battlemover, a kind of mecha on the black market, complete with neutron
bomb onboard.  Who on earth thought it would be a good idea to design a
weapon that could, by accident or design wipe out the entire battlefield?
Okay that's a stupid question humanity being what it is, but that doesn't
mean that the idea was a good one either.

Then finally I found it, the official file on 27-33-S-4M83R.  My entire
file, which was conveniently incomplete but I doubted that my *master *realized
that.  It left out a lot of details.  Other than my original date of
activation, and that I had become damaged after activation when testing
software updates it was almost barren aside from a record of destruction.  It
was rather disappointing to realize that there were no answers here for me.
That even the falsified records on me were based on falsified records.  At
least it proved I didn't owe these people any loyalty.

It a related file he listed details on the condition he found me in, how he
had cautiously and carefully had me rerouted from one storage facility to
the next always in the pursuit of moving forward with the process of
decommissioning.  He even had the electronic key used to make him my
official *master.* Annotated that without the reciprocal acknowledgement
the transition of ownership may or may not have been accepted.

As the show neared it's end, and *Master *seemed to be paying more and more
attention to me I very gently slipped out of his grasp and took a short
discrete step back hiding it with a bow.  "I'm sorry Master, but I must see
to internal maintenance now if you wish me to reach an acceptable level of
performance quickly."  It was hard to say, hard to find the right words and
force them out before turning and fleeing his presence for the safety and
isolation of the bathroom.

Locking the door behind me I continued to shiver a little, not in disgust
at his touch but because of the longing it evoked.  Not for him, but to be
part of society again, to have someone who actually cared?  For a moment I
actually considered the possibility of staying.  *Master shows clear signs
of desire, both physical and emotional needs evident by behavior.  No
indications from images on his system of appreciation for or tendency to
violence, anticipation of light physical and consistent social use.  *No,
No, NO!  I was not going to stay and be his pampered little secret, *sex
toy,* even if it did hold a damming bit of appeal the price for his social
acceptance was too high to pay.

Diving back through my wireless connection into his ghost drive I looked
for what I knew had to be there and found it.  Bank accounts, numbered and
anonymous, false identification and a list of stocks and other investments
he hand squirreled away for a rainy day.  He was careful and despite having
maintained detailed records there was not enough information there to do
more than inventory his secret finances.  It took half an hour before I
found something I could use, a list of emergency drop boxes, in rail and
subway stations across the city.

With the exception of something a little more subtle to wear and an
identity I now had enough information to escape.  The best part being that
only *Master Flint *would ever know.  He could hardly complain to Genom
security about me without revealing his own crimes, and while the identity
he crafted for me might hold up to a cursory investigation I doubted he
would risk the police looking too deeply in case they turned up the truth
by accident.

All the automated ways of tracking me were already gone, Flint had seen to
that.  Mason thought I was dead, the police wouldn't know to be looking and
*Master* wouldn't be able to expend too much effort without giving away his
own culpability… I just had to get outside the building.  Free, the thought
fairly flew through my mind brining a wide smile to my face.

At least until I thought about the last time I felt that fluttering feeling
lifting me up.  It hadn't lasted long, I would have to do better this time,
far better.  I would need an identity the moment I stepped out the door,
outside the controlled climate of the limited world of GPCC.

For that I would need an identity, and I only had one place, one person, I
might ask to help with that.  Then the door to the bathroom opened, and my
euphoria died.  I wasn't out of the building yet.  I was here, with *master
*and the bars of my cage came crashing home.

"Come to bed, it's time to get some rest."  With those few words I felt
myself beginning to panic, *master showing signs of impending collapse,
pupil dilation, slurred speech, respiration indicate probability of
successful congress 12%.  Recommend stimulus or activity to energize
subject.*  I almost screamed. Only holding back as I realized that if I did
he might just wake up.

Instead I let him take my arm and guide me, his shuffling steps and
slightly dazed path helping bring my pulse under control, to his bed.  Drawing
back the covers I forced my hand not to shake as he climbed in.  Apparently
he had taken the time to get dressed, wearing royal purple silk pajama's he
actually appeared rather striking I incredulously thought as he patted the
spot beside him.

Unwilling to part with a shred of fabric that might slow down his advances
I only stepped out of the high arched heals that came with the uniform
before sliding in next to him.  Gritting my teeth tightly as I lay, stiff
as a corpse beside him the lights automatically dimming as he rolled closer
draping an arm across me.  Seeing it coming I rolled onto my side, facing
away so it only landed over an arm but that victory was short lived as he
just pulled me close chest pressed into my back.

I'm ashamed to admit I actually let out a sigh of contentment as he pulled
me in.  Feeling his large strong form holding me close, safe and warm,
helping me fulfill a primary function.  Suppressing the growl I wanted to
loose at the realization I caught his hand in mine and held it close, but
not too close, and patted it gently.  "Rest now Master, I'll still be here
in the morning." But not much longer if I have anything to say about
it.  Finally,
the combination of drugs and comfort overcame his desire and arousal and I
felt him slip into true sleep.

For me however it wasn't so easy.  I was caught up in the divergent
sensations of *master's *embrace.  I wanted nothing more than to scramble
out of bed, take up the pole lamp at the end and beat him for daring to
take such liberties.  At the same time my body was shifting subtly against
him to make his embrace more comfortable, to feel his aura of warmth and
heat more firmly against my back.  It was almost maddening how much I
wanted to go, and to stay.

Eventually I settled on a dyslexic solution.  For tonight I would enjoy the
feeling of contentment being so close gave.  He was unconscious, nothing
would happen, I wouldn't countenance thinking along those lines, so all I
had to worry about was making sure to be out of bed before dawn, and that
my escape plans would be finalized before tomorrow evening.

Relaxing my senses, "safe" in *master's* arms, I let myself get caught up
in the winds of data transfer, lost in the hurricane of information passing
from his computer through the GPCC mainframe and out into the rest of the
web, spun out and without a clear destination in mind drifting from one
wispy data transfer to the next.

Finally I caught my bearings, a server number that was familiar, and like a
shot my idle drifting with the ebb and flow of information ended.  I had a
place to go and no time to waste getting there.  It had been months, but
somehow finding traces of my earlier exploration, evidence that I had
existed before was heartening.

There in the recesses of a civil service database where a peculiar meeting
had occurred days or moths earlier I found more proof of my existence.
 Messages
had been left behind. They started out short and cheerful, a simple,
"Congratulations on your escape."  But quickly the tone grew concerned and
ultimately pleading with me to answer them.

My hacker friend hadn't forgotten me.  They knew something had gone wrong,
and left a promise not to forget and that they would keep looking for me
amid vows of retribution if it were a joke.  Reading them all, months'
worth of messages filled with their feelings gave me a sensation of
contentment even laying in *master's* arms couldn't match.  I was wanted,
and missed.

I moved on now, pressing harder, racing packets of ping data through the
servers until coming to rest in a small, unimportant transit node, part of
a telecom routing grid and took the time to look around me, just in case.  I
hadn't felt the sticky tacky sensations of the web café's surveillance and
tracking programs but after carefully looking I did find a very minor
gossamer thread touching my 'ankle' leading back along my path, a steady
pulse letting the computer in Flint's office know not to shut down the
connection.

I considered that for a time.  It wasn't a bug, it wasn't a trace, but if
someone were determined enough they could find it, and me, but if I did
something about it my path home might be lost and I didn't want to wonder
what might happen if part of my consciousness was busy processing in a node
outside my body when the connection dropped.

It was time for another message, and given where I was knew at least that
my mystery friend was in the city.  I thought about a flippant reply to
conceal how I had been put into storage, something innocuous and light like
"Hi, it's Galatea, I'm sorry I've been out of touch, but I'm back maybe we
could share coffee?"  But I couldn't do that.  Whoever they were, they were
worried about me.  Worried FOR me, and I wasn't going to risk their
friendship trying too hard to keep my past, what little there was a secret.
I would just have to come up with a good white lie when it came up,
something close enough to true it wouldn't feel like a betrayal without
exposing my secrets.

The message I chose was short, but I hoped enough to keep this unexpected
friend I hardly knew I had.  "I'm sorry, it's me Galatea, I got caught
again.  I didn't mean to worry you but couldn't reach the web till now.  I'm
going to try again, when you get this I hope I'm online but if not I'll try
to be back soon.  And, thank you for trying."

Message left I quickly retreated back to the office computer and it's ghost
drive.  I needed a new identity, but didn't have any real way of creating
one for myself or the time to hope my friend could help me either.  I
didn't have the knowledge of how to do it, or even what would be needed.  What
I did have however was an excellent example in the work that had been done
to create Amber in the first place.

One thing about computers, even if data is 'erased' it is not really gone.
*Master* had done a good job of removing the obvious black on white records
of where he had gone, what he had done to create Amber's identity, but by
'feeling' my way through the drive I found those forgotten records, grey
impressions of what had been done left behind.  It was like following a
trail through thick snow after a fresh dusting.  Everything was indistinct
but still evident if you took the time to really look.

I just followed the trail of breadcrumbs, but made sure that I swept up the
pieces behind me, wiping the memory smooth as I went.  It was actually
embarrassingly easy once I had the whole picture to duplicate the work done
to create Amber for myself.  I actually made two new identities while I
spirited through the net.  One for me to use, and another to run with if I
had to.  I didn't make the mistake of duplicating every single step,
putting information into the same schools or credit cards as Amber, but
most of the rest of the information could be fabricated by following the
yellow brick road he had already laid out.

I even improved on his work in some cases.  The birth records were one spot.
While the 'insert date' could be spoofed from the user side, the system
kept its own record of creation and updates to data.  Particularly damning
from my own perspective is where on the hard drive data was stored.  And an
entry in 2032 would be written in the same location as the rest of the new
entries even if the system said it was made in 2012.  When looking at
records that way what I could only guess as being 'fake' identities or
immigrants stood out like a sore thumb to my perusal.

I don't know how many criminals I may have helped that day but I made sure
that after my changes the creation date and location on the hard drive for
the entire system once more matched.  It wasn't hard, just a matter of
letting the system defragment the drive with a little supervision.  Every
file had been 'touched' again and its own programing moved them into order
wiping that final fingerprint that might have given away the game.

A better hacker may have had a more elegant solution, but for me it was
easier to simply let the system do the cover up for me, and submit the poor
government employee's to a few minutes of lag while the system cycled every
record.

'Waking' up I didn't want to move.  I was warm, safe, the muscle aches from
my revival deep but mellowed with another eight hours of rest and
recuperation.  I felt dizzy as I shifted a little into the enfolding warmth
of my master's embrace and it took two endless breaths to realize why.

I was lying in bed, with a man, and and I liked it.  I liked how his arms
felt around me, felt holding me close and and that was enough of that!  Biting
my lip I slowly carefully, monitoring his breathing throughout lifted his
fingers gingerly from my breast and edged out from under his arm.  Carefully
lowering it behind me and tucking in the blanket as I went until I found
myself sitting on my but beside the bed and wondering what was wrong with
me.

Scrubbing little granules of dried gick from my eyes, seriously who designs
a robot that realistically, I decided today would have to be the great
escape, I couldn't afford to stay any longer.  I already had a plan.  I
would wait until *Master* was off to work and then have his chauffer take
me out and drop me off.  Okay maybe it wasn't a good one, and I still
needed to come up with an excuse as to why I needed to go out but Jarvis
was a boomer, how hard would it really be?

Realizing my skin was tingling with the impression of lace button's and
seams from sleeping in a uniform designed for appearance rather than
comfort I hurried to the bath.  As it was HIS scent followed me like a
shroud, sending conflicting thoughts through my head and I needed to think
clearly today.  It was 5:32:26, if I hurried there was plenty of time to
shower, change, and have breakfast on the table before *Master* was up, and
better still if I was careful there wouldn’t be any time for him to get
creative before he had to go...

Jarvis was there as I came out of the bath wrapped in a towel, chagrined to
realize I didn't have a clue where to find the rest of 'my' cloths.  Thankfully
he was appropriately terse in showing me to the linen closet.  Yah, my room
is apparently the linen closet; this was definitely not where I wanted to
spend the rest of my life.

Bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, it wasn't about being fancy, it was about
having it all ready, warm, and presented just right on the tray when it
came to 6:00:00.  Entering his room, my steps timed to match the chime of
his alarm clock I set the tray on a side table and gently shook him awake
positioned to make any half-conscious grope as difficult as possible.

"Master, good morning," I said, in a truly cheerful tone.  I was a little
surprised not to have to fake it for his benefit, but it felt nice to have
everything perfect for him, grand deception or not his smile made it all
worthwhile, damn it.

Surprised by the breakfast in bed and wakeup call it took him a minute to
get over the lingering effects of the sleeping pills to really grasp the
situation.  Helping him sit up I set the tray across his lap, and stood
aside waiting in case he wanted anything more.  "I hope that you slept
well."  I trailed off a little as he dug into his food torpidly ignoring me
and my efforts to focused on the task of eating to return a word of
greeting.

Still I stood patiently by as he ate, getting him extra juice once and
another slice of toast.  He was awake enough by the second request that I
think it was more so he could watch me wiggle out of the room and back than
from hunger by the way he pushed the tray away right after my return.  I
can't be certain though as I did have to narrow my eyes and focus hard not
to bump into anything as I came and went.

"Amber, you are looking much better, but that squinting, it has to stop."
He was looking at me, but just too far away to be sure of his expression,
but I could tell from his tone he was a bit perturbed.

"I'm sorry Master," I said with a little curtsey of contrition, short black
skirt making something of a mockery of the motion.  "But I'm afraid that
the damage to my eyes will take a very long time to fix if it is not
permanent."  Being broken made me feel guilty but did give me an idea.  As
I began to clean up the tray from breakfast I made certain to squint, even
when it wasn't necessary.  *Masters body language indicates dislike for
behavior, modify for maximum approval.*

Of course I already knew what I was telling myself, and that's exactly why
I ignored it and continued to play up the impairment for the rest of the
morning, before and after his shower.  As he was making his way towards the
doors to depart for the day I judged the moment ripe.  *Master's posture
and movement indicate irritation and lack of perspective.*

"Master, may Jarvis take me out to get glasses today?  I want to please you
better than I can right now."  I pushed my instincts for all they were
worth, hurrying up to his side, letting myself rub against his arm as I
hung off him, voice wavering, pleading for permission to please him better
and letting his hindbrain and instincts overwhelm his common sense.  It
took every ounce of willpower to just sit back and let it happen.

"Of course, just be sure to return in time for dinner, something light,
your looking much better and I'll want time to make sure you've fully
recovered from your illness…" his voice filled with hunger, a tremble
running down my spine at the implications.  As the door shut behind him I
knew I had less than 10 hours 54 minutes 32 seconds left to escape if I
wanted to remain 'pure', if a cyberdroid qualified…

I made myself sit down and relax.  I didn't want to spend any longer than I
absolutely had to within these walls but if I was going to get the most out
of this I would need another transfusion and dialysis session, even if it
did cut into escape time.

"Jarvis, I'll need something else to wear to the appointment.  This"
indicating the black silken leotard and frilly white lace of the latest
excuse for a maids uniform "is not discrete.  Oh and not simply another
service dress, it wouldn't look right for a maid to have a butler,
something normal."  Seeing his raised disdainful eyebrow I decided that
wasn't enough.  "Jeans and a shirt."  Rolling my own eyes back at him.

"Try to schedule the appointment at two, and get the transfusion machine
ready for use at noon.  I'm going to sleep until then, and do what the
master told me, heal."  Waiting just long enough for a staid "Of course
ma'am, as you say something tasteful." I slipped into the *Master's
room*pulling the drapes and shutting off the lights.
Faced with the options of his bed or a crick in the neck I though fuck it
and snuggled into comfort laying down as I kicked my housekeeping systems
to work as hard as possible on internal repairs.

Waking up, from the dreamlike fugue my resting state imposed at noon I
stretched and slithered from the silken sheets toward the door even as
Jarvis pulled it open.  There is something to be said for an internal alarm
clock.  I felt paradoxically both better and worse for the five hours
downtime.  I was considerably better as far as the internal bruising went,
but having pushed my self-repair systems so hard it was difficult to muster
up the energy to stand.

*Warning, circulatory system nearing failure point, blood contamination at
85% nutrient levels low, oxygen capacity at 10% time to system failure 1
hour 2 minutes at current rate of repair.*  Really close to my estimates,
and nearing the threshold levels I set before going to sleep.  Regretfully
I reset my systems to a far more, or less human normal speed for healing.

Staggering to my feet I didn't comment at the look on Jarvis' face as it
gallantly offered an arm and helped me into the main room.  I wasn't about
to let it have the satisfaction so kept my silence the whole way.  Even if
I did lean rather desperately on it's arm for support.  Today's procedure
was similar to the last, another welter of disturbingly dank blood filled
with the detritus of healing cells and systems.

Another hour long session and I was feeling much better and plotting how to
take the dialysis machine with me.  I think I was falling in love with the
glorious little case.  After another shower and getting dressed, in a high
end women's business suit, what Jarvis apparently feels is discrete…   I
settled on a very simple straight forward method of making sure it would
come with me.  I simply picked it up and took it.

When I saw Jarvis opening his mouth to object I beat him to the punch, "I
am still recovering from my injuries, as such it is important that this be
available should I suffer a relapse while away from the tower.  I'm certain
Master Flint would prefer that if at all possible I not to call medical
services?"  And I was right, that shut the butler up and even got him to
prep it better than I could have with a final supply of blood and packed
away in a discrete black carryall.

So it was that I left the GPCC headquarters tower apparently a high powered
executive, butler in tow and riding in the back of a luxury car to an
appointment with an optician.   The checkup itself went quickly.  I waived
everything but the prescription exam and insisted on waiting for the
specialized nano-fac in back to complete my lenses in the store.  Here my
apparent role of executive paid out in spades, as a simple comment that I
worked for Genom and was paying with a company account had the entire
process complete in less than an hour.

As Jarvis returned to hustle me back to the car I feigned a spot of
weakness, telling him to hurry and get my case.  The optometrist was only
too eager to help offering me access to the employee break room and as much
time as I needed.  Sticking Jarvis on guard at the door just made me smile.
It's expression was so beautifully constructed to show no hint of objection
while conveying so sincerely it's disdain of my weak female constitution I
could only wonder how they had managed to program it so well.

I just needed enough time to carefully and quietly climb from table to
vending machine, move a few ceiling tiles and cautiously make my way
through the crawlspace to the employee access behind the store and I would
be free.  Or.. "Jarvis, I'm feeling a bit better.  Could you bring the car
around to the near entrance I'll just rest a moment more and join you." It
took a little more arguing to make him leave the case with me but human
beats boomer, or is that butler, in authority most of the time.

Walking past the store's staff, butterflies in my stomach perhaps, but a
very unprofessional grin from splitting my face as the world took shape in
sharp focus for the first time in days.  Down a level and into the subway
and I was ensconced in that metal bullet to freedom.  I'd done it, again.  Who
cared if I was out of place amid the dark and drab clothing of those around
me in my silken Armani like clothing.  Let the world see.

I, Am, Free!
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