Chapter 8 #2
As he explains some nonsense about the significant benefits of manupartners and the exciting things his company is working on, she can’t help but feel a little dirty being a piece of advertisement for something she is so repulsed by.
To each their own, and she’s never been one to shame anyone, but the idea of a fake lover is just beyond her.
He squeezes her neck. “Did you hear the question?”
Her gaze snaps back to the woman. “No. Can you repeat it?”
“How do you like being the CHOICElover of MSP’s most celebrated man?” The woman blinks eagerly as she holds up the phone to record Electra’s answer.
She eyes the door as if it’s an escape hatch. Just be yourself. Those were his words. She chuckles. Well, he asked for this. “It’s not as exciting as one might think. So far, all we do is hang out at his unit, argue, and play this game he likes called 20 Questions.” Looking up at Res6, she grins.
But instead of it ruffling him like she expects, he smoothly replies, “Impressive, isn’t she?
The fun question game is, of course, a series of tests we’re running her through.
Standard for each prototype trial. CHOICElover prides itself on making sure our products are held to the highest standards, including safety. Unlike some of our competitors.”
“That’s why CHOICElover is the best!” the woman agrees. “Tell me,” she says, addressing Electra again, “if you could do something more exciting with your owner, what would it be? Besides sex, obviously.”
The man behind her is fanning himself again. He’s even blushing. Somehow the showiness of it seems superficial, though Electra can’t pinpoint exactly how. Ignoring him, she considers the question. “If sex is off the table, we could test faulty parachutes.”
“What’s a parachute?” the woman asks.
Her friend answers, “I believe it’s a massive sheet of fabric people used to avoid dying when they fell out of airplanes.”
The woman coughs. “But then wouldn’t testing the faulty ones be problematic?”
Her friend giggles. “I think she’s being funny! What a great LifeLike innovation. What trait would I have to select to get that?”
“Sarcasm,” Res6 answers, frowning.
In a moment of great fortune, the simulation chamber employee steps around the desk. “Sir, your chamber is ready. This way, please.”
Electra steps in line with the woman, grateful when Res6’s not entirely unpleasant hand falls away. Normally, she’d be an advocate for physical touch, but with him—
“Here we are,” the employee says. “You have one hour of horseback riding followed by a prairie picnic, as requested. The basket with everything you need is in the supply bin.”
Electra steps inside the room, which is nothing more than a large black box. There is a cubby to the side where a classic wicker basket sits, complete with a red and white blanket, presumably to spread out in the field.
“When you’re ready, just press this button,” the employee instructs, then slips out the door.
Electra has no clue how this empty room is going to transform into a setting for horseback riding, and surely an actual horse won’t appear.
Were they on the extensive list of extinct species?
She’ll have to search that later. When she turns around to ask Res6 what exactly they’re meant to be doing, he’s putting on—“Are those chaps?”
His nose wrinkles as he assesses the bright orange overpants with a bedazzled strap that he buckles at his waist. “Whatever they are, they’re a bit ostentatious for my taste.”
“I guess that’s something we can agree on.”
He frowns. “Faulty parachutes. Really?”
She shrugs, trying and failing to hide her grin. “What? You told me to be myself.”
He sighs, fishing around in a bin, and hands her a blue pair of chaps. She takes them along with a sleek pair of safety glasses, adding, “This is insane.”
Five minutes later, to her utter shock and amazement, the room has been transformed into a vast plain surrounded by mountains that looks like it might be Montana, and she’s sitting on something that resembles a mechanical bull but with a longer neck.
The thing appeared from a hole in the floor after they watched a minute-long instructional video and Res6 pressed a button.
“Many of the simulations require VR headsets, but the more sophisticated rooms use an advanced holographic technology.”
She glances around the golden, windswept field, then across the expansive blue sky, searching for the projectors. They’re well disguised if they are there. “Where’s your ‘horse’?” she asks, using air quotes.
Her stomach sinks as he steps up beside her, first putting a foot into the stirrup and swinging a leg around like the video showed. “That wasn’t difficult,” he says, using her hips as leverage as he adjusts his position.
“Before we start, I have a question. Several, in fact.”
“Oh, now you want to play my fun questions game?” He squeezes her hips for emphasis.
“I thought the purpose of these outings was to acclimate me to your world. How is this supposed to do that?”
“You said you don’t enjoy shopping, so here we are,” he says, as if that makes any sense. “Just try to get something out of this, okay? Enjoyment, perhaps. Or consider the technology it takes to recreate this experience. It’s fascinating, really.”
He points to a red switch at the top of the machine’s “neck.” She almost can’t reach it, but she gets it flipped.
Suddenly, the mechanical horse thing appears to have ears that twitch, plus fur.
Amazed, she reaches forward, brushing her hand along its mane, meeting cool metal where the “animal’s” coat ought to be.
“So weird,” she says.
Behind her, Res6 kicks his heels into the “horse,” nudging it into a trot.
She lurches forward, grabbing hold of the saddle horn, a part she only knows because of the research she did for her Out of this World series.
After the alien king saved Guinevere, he may or may not have used the horn for her pleasure on the long ride back to Outlandia.
The thought makes her jump, which causes Res6 to grasp her hips again.
“You okay?” he asks, and she tries to focus on the gently rolling valley they’re passing through.
Surely he doesn’t think . . .
“Electra,” he urges, squeezing to get her attention.
He knows about her books. Has he read them?
Surely he doesn’t think she’s going to let him do that to her now.
The woman out there assumed they were having, or at least would have, sex.
That’s the whole point of a manupartner.
But Res6 doesn’t seem interested in sex with her, though maybe he has a weird kink that he plans to use this poor horse for.
Oh God, how many other people have had sex on the machine she’s currently sitting on?
Surely they sterilize the equipment after each customer.
“We’re really going to need to have your hearing checked,” he grumbles.
“I heard you fine.” Now that she’s used to the horse—and a little weirded out—she releases the horn, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to my books, did you?”
He huffs like it’s a stupid question. “No. I told you, I’m not interested in romance.”
“Okay. Well, that’s good.” If he hasn’t read them, he probably isn’t entertaining erotic thoughts, so she can relax. Maybe enjoy this experience, like he suggested.
The horse whinnies, alerting them to an approaching dust storm—wait, are those cowboys galloping toward them? “What type of program is this?—Ahhh!” she screams as gunshots ring out.
The horse rears back, tossing her into Res6’s chest. Metallic pings sound across the room—those can’t be real bullets, right?
Maybe she should have researched how future people entertain themselves before venturing out of Res6’s apartment.
If healing really is that advanced, maybe a minor gunshot wound is part of the fun.
His arms snake around her waist, holding her firmly against him, which isn’t entirely unpleasant.
Well, it wouldn’t be if the simulation hadn’t turned into some type of western chase scene. “Is this safe?”
“Completely safe,” he says.
They jostle in the saddle as the horse gallops up a small trail leading to—“Oh my God. That’s a cliff.”
“Looks that way. Fuck!” he shouts.
“Ouch! My leg! Something just hit me.” She rubs the tender spot. Maybe the word safe has evolved and means something different than it did during her time. She should probably clarify. “The system won’t actually hurt us, right? That’s not something people do for thrills now?”
Something whizzes past her head, thudding right by her ear. Res6 yelps. “I don’t think so.”
“We’ve got you cornered! Give us the girl, or we’ll shoot!” a rugged, disembodied voice calls out.
What in the Wild West is happening? “You’re already shooting!” she shouts back. Another rubber-like projectile, like a paintball, hits her shoulder. “Damn it!”
“Thanks for catching that!” the voice says. “Let me try that again. Give us the girl, or we’ll shoot you some more!”
A fake bullet pings off the metal horse. “Stop it!”
Behind her, Res6 grunts.
“We won’t stop until we have the wee lass! Hand her over or we’ll send you plummeting to your deaths!”
Did the system’s voice just turn Scottish? This is too surreal. “End program!” she shouts. Nothing happens.
Res6 reaches forward, trying to hit the red switch between the horse’s ears, but with each jarring stride, he misses it. “Can you help me?”
She reaches for it, but his one-armed grip limits her range of motion. “If you let me loose.” She glances up. The cliff is getting nearer. “What do you think happens if they corner us?”
“Let’s not find out.” He squeezes her waist, pressing himself against her back as he attempts another pass at the switch. The horse jolts right as his fingers brush it. “Shit.”