Chapter 8
Electra
“Well, hello to you too,” she says, watching interestedly from the couch. “I don’t sleep all day, you know.”
“I’ll just be a moment.” He pauses, making a quick scan of her attire, including her feet, which are housed in the softest pink socks she’s ever felt.
She holds them up for him to see, wiggling her toes. His nose wrinkles, which makes her grin. “Your personal shopper did a good job this time. DumBot?”
He laughs. “No, another actual woman.”
She gasps theatrically, covering her mouth. “So scandalous.”
She found the socks in one of the many packages addressed to her that were waiting beneath the smartwaiter delivery drawer this afternoon.
Res6 must have got them out, setting them there so as not to interrupt her sleep.
It’s like the woman picking out the clothes for her understands her tastes perfectly.
The assorted outfits are a perfect combination of items she recognizes, like a pair of butter-soft skintight jeans, several shift dresses, and some oversized sweaters, but with a funky future-world twist. Like the structured blue sweater with an extra-large circular cutout in the center, which would expose her completely without a bodysuit underneath.
The garment seems pointless to her, but she’ll figure out how to rock it if that’s what’s in style now.
It took her an embarrassing amount of time to come to terms with the fact that he was spending so much unicoin on all these clothes.
On her. The internet, or network as they call it, says he’s loaded, which Tommy confirmed, so she forced herself to move past it.
She doesn’t have to agree with his spending habits.
She nearly had a panic attack cutting off tags—as a principle, she always wore secondhand—but on the bright side, hanging up the clothing in his sparsely filled closet gave her something to do this afternoon besides staring at the tablet all day.
He comes back into the living room, wrinkling his nose as he studies her. “I’d suggest changing into something a little lighter. It’s warm where we’re going.”
“Excuse me?” she asks, pausing the educational video she was only half-interested in watching.
He marches into the kitchen and collects a bottle of water before pacing to the closed door of the spare room she has yet to venture into. Since he’s let her sleep in his room while taking the couch for himself, she guessed it was a storage closet.
“We’re going on our first outing. Wear whatever you like, but you may find those,” he nods to the socks, “uncomfortably warm. Shoes would be ideal.”
“Okaaaaay . . .” She sets down the tablet, grateful for the distraction. She’s close to information overload anyway. While the history of banking may be riveting to some, there’s only so much a woman can take. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says, watching her get up and move toward her bedroom as if expecting more of an argument. “I’ll be fifteen minutes. Then we’ll go.”
He steps into the spare room, and there’s a click. Did he just lock the door? Now the door is no longer benign. What is inside that is worth locking away from her?
As much as The Room now piques her curiosity, she’s even more interested in leaving this unit.
For the first time in a while, she woke up feeling refreshed and able to confidently meet the day.
Going on an outing is a welcome idea. Especially as Res6 appears to already have something in mind.
As long as it isn’t shopping, which would be far too stressful, she’s game.
Of all the videos Tommy sent, the dissection of modern social customs was the most interesting one, but it was too short at a mere three hours.
An outing where she gets to see and possibly meet other future people will be highly beneficial to her research.
A tangible step in her quest to figure out what is wrong with people now so she can figure out how to help them.
She is not—to repeat, NOT—interested in figuring out and fixing Res6.
Just people in general. She takes a deep breath.
Even seeing what they’re like so she can write a story that might appeal to them would be a good step.
It takes her ten minutes to decide on an alternative outfit.
Not knowing what they’re doing, except that it will be warm, limits her.
She selects a pair of white-and-silver striped culottes and a cropped white halter top that is woven with a reflective thread that glitters when she turns in the light.
A low pair of clear tech sandals complements the ensemble.
She steps out of the bedroom right as Res6 is closing the door behind him. He notices her watching him, and if she’s being honest, trying to get a glimpse of what’s inside The Room.
He pointedly clears his throat. “This room is off limits. Understand?”
Now she’s even more curious. If only she had some real heroine skills like lock picking.
“Electra,” he urges.
“What?” she asks, still trying to figure out what is so important to keep hidden. Obviously, the first thought that pops into her mind is Sex Dungeon. “Oh yeah, off limits. Got it.” Under her breath she mutters, “Not giving murder-y vibes at all.”
He chuckles. “Does this mean you’re feeling revived?”
She shoots him a taunting grin. “Today, anyway.”
“All right, let’s go.”
She follows him into the hall and into an elevator.
It takes them from floor 300, labeled Penthouse Suites, to 102 Simulation Chambers.
There are only a dozen total buttons, including 220 Sports and Recreation, 000 Ground Floor, 290 Private Dinner Suites, 150 Main Commercial, and 100 Main Cafeteria.
“This is like a rich people’s private elevator. ”
He hums in agreement as the doors open. His hand darts forward, and he presses the doors-closed button. “I forgot to mention, I might have to touch you if we’re to convince people you’re my latest manupartner.”
“Okay.” For whatever odd reason, the idea of him touching his latest manupartner sits uncomfortably in her mind. “Latest?”
He allows the doors to slide open. She jolts as a warm hand at the small of her back presses her forward. “Do you have difficulty hearing?”
She chuffs. “No.”
“Hmm . . . I’m not convinced. This is another reason we need to take you to the lab for scans.
Typically, manupartners have an unblemished health record or aren’t in existence long enough for long-term health issues to manifest unless the DNA vector had them at the time of death.
You’re healthy now, but considering your nature, scans would be prudent. ”
“What about cancer?” she asks, not really sure if she wants to hear the answer.
“It is extremely unusual for a manupartner to be activated with the disease, but it has happened. Usually because a DNA sample accidentally slipped into the DNA database or the manupartner has been activated for a while and it manifests naturally. At that point, the customer can either have them fixed or turn them in for a replacement. It’s nothing to worry about.
” He clears his throat. “Especially after the scans.”
Before she can offer an excuse about her fear of discovering her genetic defects, they’re at the front desk, having passed a handful of other future people, all of whom are staring as much at her and Res6 as she is at them.
Probably because he’s famous. In her periphery, Res6 steps up to the desk, speaking to the person behind it, but she doesn’t hear what he says because she’s too busy observing the blonde woman who’s come to stand beside her and is studying her in return.
“Hi,” she says as the woman leans in to get a closer look.
This draws the attention of her companion, a man with a very intricate white lace tattoo covering his neck and exposed shoulders.
They are well inside the boundary of her personal space bubble, so she takes a step back, bumping into Res6.
He glances down, then at the people inspecting her.
His arm slides around her waist, and he pulls her to his side. Is he being protective?
“Please afford us adequate space,” he says, turning back to the employee.
“Get a picture of her for your FrogBlog,” the man says.
“Good thinking!” The woman pulls her phone out and snaps a few pictures.
Electra expects Res6’s protective urges to doubly fire, but he leans down and whispers into her ear, “Smile.”
She twitches, biting back irritation. A manupartner would comply.
But he said, Be yourself. He adjusts her so they’re angled toward the camera and uses his other hand to tilt her head up to him.
He puts on a confident smirk, raising his brows like she’s supposed to be doing something.
That’s right: smile. She gives her best I don’t hate this impression.
“Perfect. Such a beautiful couple,” the woman coos. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? It’s not every day I have the opportunity to speak with someone so important.”
Behind the woman, the man is fanning himself.
“I always have a few minutes to spare for a fan of CHOICElover.” His voice is almost flirtatious.
Electra’s lips part, and she has to consciously close her mouth to keep it from hanging open. Who is this open, funny guy? Where has he been? He can be jovial to strangers on the street, but not her?
“Is this your new manupartner?” the woman asks, and Res6 nods. “She seems special. Fresh. What can you tell us about her?”
Res6 releases a charming chuckle, moving his hand to the back of her neck.
The firmness of his grip and the warmth of his palm shoot through her, and she has to fight her body’s instinct to lean into his touch.
“She’s unique, isn’t she?” He gives her an affectionate glance before turning back to address the woman.