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Nobody's Real - Part 3

Nobody's Real - Part 3

The receptionist’s chrome hand gestured past Plutonia.

“If you could take a seat in the waiting area I will contact Mr. Butterscotch and see what he says.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you.” Plutonia said with a perfect factory fresh million kilo-cred smile. The Fem-Bot swayed over to the tastefully decorated lounge full of amenities that felt right at home in the high-class entertainment firm. Seating for various body classes. Complimentary charging ports. Holoslates with the all the latest gossip and news pre-uploaded to them. And even refreshment for biologicals. A small Holographic sign reminded those sitting there that due to privacy and licensing concerns all connections to the net will be blocked while on property.

Plutonia took note of the notification sign and sat in a pale green egg-shaped plush chair and at the last moment remembered to cross her legs and adjust her skirt. “There is a lot to remember when you are a Fem-Bot. And these hip servos..” She laughed at herself internally. She tabbed though a holoslate to pass the time while she waited.

Ten or so minutes, 2 listicles and three articles about various celebrity gossip passed before her name was called by the receptionist.

“Miss Plutonia, It looks like Mr. Butterscotch has an opening in his schedule and can actually see you shortly.”

“Fantastic. Thank you.” She stood, looked at the holoslate a few more moments and made her way over to the desk.

“Which article?”

“Pardon?”

The pastel pink metal and plastic Fem-Bot behind the reception desk smiled. “Which article had you hooked that you needed to read a few more bytes of it?”

“Oh, I was reading the one about Gigatrix’s latest update and how she may have gotten a corrupt node.”

“I saw that one! It turns out that her manager was attempting to sabotage her so they could get insurance money for an incomplete contract if she failed to make any appearances. They managed to catch it in time, so she didn’t lose much more than a day thanks to her updates. And she didn’t miss her streaming time!”

“Thank you. It would have been bugging me until I could run a search to find out what happened.”

“Happy to help a fellow info-tainment fan. By the way the holoslates are complimentary if you would like to take one home with you.”

“Thanks, but..” Plutonia gestured at her ultra-form fitting polymer mini dress, “Not really anywhere to put it. And I’d rather not carry it in with me to the meeting.”

“Understood completely. I’ll have it waiting for you when you come out. I’m FiGee by the way”

“Thanks FiGee. I’ll grab it on my way out.”

As they finished talking 2 large individuals exited the bank of lifts at the back of the large lobby and made their way over to the reception desk. Individual 1 was a hulking Mal-Bot with nearly 2 meter across shoulders made of a hardened grey/black polymer designed in a brutal looking style of right angles. He had no real neck to speak of just a raised box with 2 red photoreceptors that burned brightly. The rest of his frame followed the hulking design. From the large 4 fingered hands all the way to the solid looking square toed feet.

The 2nd sophont was a biological. He was a Raskar. A reptilian race denoted for their toughness and the heavy scales which ran from their brows all the way down their backs including the backs of their arms, and hands as well as the outsides of their legs. His scales were a mottled tan and grey, a slightly uncommon Raskar coloration. With the smoother “skin” being tan and the heaver thicker scale plates being a light grey. He was dressed in a fashionable black suit with built in tracer LEDs that ran along the seams and edges of his clothing. They changed from a yellow to a blue as they moved along.

The Raskar spoke in a deep refined voice; “Miss Plutonia, Mr. Butterscotch is waiting for you. If you could follow me.”

At Plutonia’s nod he turned walked towards the lifts. Plutonia followed and the Mal-Bot trailed behind her.

After they got into the lift the Mal-Bot waved his hand over a blank section of the wall, a low beep was heard, and the lift began to descend. After more than a minute had passed in utter silence the lift door opened into a large room.

The room was a well-lit warehouse. Metal and plastic crates filled shelves, lined walls and were stacked all over the place. Flashing diodes traced patterns and security pads glowed on most of them. Racks of bot bodies, vehicles, and large electronic devices were scattered amongst the many shelves and stacks of crates. As they walked down the main aisle Plutonia’s head was on a swivel as she checked out and scanned everything her photoreceptors could see.

“That looks like a rack of new Exis-7 Police bots. I’ll be they are wondering where those went. Oh, and a new model stat builder unit with a control module. That’s a cash shop item I wonder if it is unlocked.” She mused to herself.

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After a long walk the trio finally arrived at their destination, a large open area with various tables and chairs. And sitting in the nicest chair in the area on several plush pillows was the man himself Dimples Butterscotch.

Dimples Butterscotch was a Solrain. Solrain as a whole were short cherubic people with round faces, plump bodies and sunny dispositions. Dimples was no exception. He had rosy red cheeks, bright shiny blue eyes, tousled blonde scamp like hair and a round body that looked like it was made for laughing and merrymaking. He was dressed in a nice pair of slacks and a collared shirt with its sleeves rolled up.

Dimples was best known for his talk show Daytime with Dimples where he interviewed all the trending celebrities and had daily cooking segments where people could get recipes for mid-level crafts and see how they were actually made. This made him very popular with new players and crafters.

But a certain segment of the population also knew Dimples other past time, max level Crime Boss. Dimples had his chubby little fingers in many, many pies.

“Miss Plutonia. Welcome. I hear that you might be able to help me with my leaky basement.” Dimples said in a high pitch almost squeaky voice.

“Please, call me Plutonia. Yes, Mr. Butterscotch. I have been asked by my client to meet with you about that very thing.”

“Go on.”

“Before we begin may I ask what you have done with the frames of the would be assassins from earlier today? If they have already been scrapped our conversation will unfortunately be over before it really could begin.”

Dimples gestured with a little chubby hand. “Mongos please bring the crate with those 2 idiots over.”

The large Mal-Bot, Mongos, went around a corner and brought out a rectangular plastic tub with a pair of mostly intact, but shot up Fem-Bots in it. A couple lights could be seen flickering weakly where their outer shells were damaged.

“Thank you Mr. Butterscotch. As you can tell one of my primary objectives for todays meeting is recovering the shells. I am willing to discuss terms that will make this happen.”

“That’s the thing.” Dimples began. “I can’t actually just let them go after their lousy assassination attempts on me. What kind of precedent would that set? I think I’m going to have to keep them and make an example out of their pretty little frames. If my security was not as good as it is I would be waking up in a vat right now with a level loss and a whole heap of embarrassment.”

Plutonia held up a finger. “Actually, they never intended to succeed.”

“What?” Dimples childish jolly voice was significantly less jolly.

“They were hired only to make an attempt and not necessarily succeed. As a gesture of good faith, I have a copy of the recording that was sent to my client about the contract.”

A somewhat distorted artificial digital voice began playing from Plutonia’s open mouth.

“Unlike most assassination jobs I don’t actually want him killed. I just want to make his life more stressful and difficult. This contract is to make 2 unsuccessful assassination attempts on Dimples Butterscotch’s life in a single 24-hour period, sometime within the next 6 days. If you are able to kill him I am ok with that, and you will get a bonus. But that is not the purpose of this contract. I just need him distracted and not thinking clearly.

Given the highly unusual nature and difficulty of this request payment will be at higher than normal rates for a quest of this difficulty and will be provided upon completion of the task. “

“And that is where my recording ends.” Plutonia spoke in her normal digitally feminine tones. “I will of course beam it to you so you can have it analyzed by your people.”

Dimples was incensed. “This is a lack of respect! How dare they! How dare they!” He angrily smashed his little fists on the arms of his chair and thrashed his legs. Much like a toddler throwing a fit. “I’ll find out whoever wanted to disrespect me to bad and I’ll kill’m myself!”

Plutonia and his guards stood there quietly and waited for him to finish.

After Dimples calmed down he looked at the Fem-Bot standing there waiting for him to continue.

“Well Plutonia, I know what you want but I don’t see how you can make any of this worth my while.”

“I happen to know that you have a cred issue to a deal that went bad. Maybe I can help.”

---- One long negotiation, and several skill checks later ----

“So, it is settled.” Plutonia sighed leaning back in her chair, legs crossed, sipping on a glass of yellow synthohol. “You offload the police bots and the shells to a yet to be determined location. My client pays you sixty-five thousand kilo-creds for both. You get to almost break even and not be tied to any evidence involving the missing bots. And the assassins also get your promise not to seek revenge for the attempted hits. My client then gets the fun of dealing with the police bots and the assassin’s shells.”

“Plutonia, you are a fantastic negotiator.” Dimples proclaimed in a very unnervingly happy way, while snacking on a pastry. “This is some of the most fun I’ve had in ages. What a challenge. How would you like to work for me?”

“I’m flattered but I’m strictly an independent. I don’t really like being tied down to any group. Not exactly my playstyle.”

Dimples giggled. “I understand. But that isn’t exactly going to stop me from trying.”

“I would be most difficult to track down outside of this alias. Afterall this isn’t my first time doing this sort of thing and I am at least 3 layers deep for this registered alias.”

“That’s what I have people for. Well we are done here. Mongos will see you out. You will get an address in the next hour or so saying where you can have everything picked up.” He waved his chubby crumb encrusted hand towards the lifts dismissing them.

Mongos silently escorted her all the way though the warehouse. Up the lift, and after a quick stop at the reception desk for a holoslate, out of the front door.

As message notifications pinged with her newly reestablished net connection Plutonia glanced at Mongos retreating back as she hailed a Jonny Cab.

What a long pain in the ass day. The things she was willing to do for friends.

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