---Felix’s perspective---
“You’re gonna use up all the air in here, sighing like that(!)” smirks Drago as he sits down at our table.
“Leave him be, dude! You know how hard I had to work to convince him to come out tonight!? You bully him and it’s only gonna be harder to get this window sitter away from uni next time!” says Aiko, slapping her boyfriend’s upper arm, lightly, as soon as he’s released our drinks.
“I’m not a baby deer, Aiko(!) You don’t need to be careful about startling me away and I can handle a little teasing…” I chuckle.
“What’s going on that’s got you sighing like that, Flix?” asks Zhel, the only one of the group from the ODR and not the university, turning to me “Just the other day, we found out there are other deathworld species! What do you have to be melancholy about?”
Drago answers for me with a smirk “Little Mr Nachtnebel here has just started to realise that doing his doctorate equivalent on Citadel limits him to only the AIs who work at the ODR! He’s already interviewed all of them willing to be interviewed multiple times and he’s starting to worry he might have to go back to Berlin(!)”
“Can’t you just interview AIs via the Galnet? You’d have access to every one of them in the UTC if you did that!” Ọba suggests, rejoining our table, a sheen of sweat on the dark skin of his forehead from dancing.
Zhel’s scarlet red eyes flick to make a brief moment of eyecontact with the man on whom she has such an obvious crush that, in spite of her being a Longi (the lineage most renowned for inscrutable stoicism, more than even Neanderthals), even I can tell!
Ọba notices and the two of them look away from eachother, I think awkwardly.
“It’s not the same.” I state “There’s something about an in person interview with an embodied AI that’s just lost when it’s done remotely.”
Aiko frowns at me, I think curiously “Really, Felix? You can tell the difference?”
“Yes… sort of… There’s something about the formality of it that keeps it all business. To be honest, most of the ODR ones are so busy that it’s been the same with them! I get an hour at most and the questions stay impersonal… It’s not like it was back on Earth.” I say, miserably.
“Damn…” says Drago “…seems like we’ll need to say goodbye to Flix here soon enough. He’s gonna ruuuuun back to Earth with his tail between his legs(!)”
Aiko shakes her head and says “Honestly, GoGo! You’re such an arsehole(!) Read the air!”
Drago smirks and teases “Yeah… you love me for it though!” with the kind of confidence I wish I had!
She rolls her eyes and says “I suppose! I can’t complain you’ve not at least been consistent in your arseholery(!)… You’ve definitely been nothing but who you are since you’ve been my boyfriend(!)”
Drago narrows his eyes and asks “You mean since we’ve been dating or since…?”
“Since we’ve been dating.” Aiko interrupts “I’m retroactively considering you my boyfriend for the time before you realised(!)”
A chuckle goes around the table and I take the opportunity for a sip of my drink in the conversational lull.
Just after my glass hits the table again, I become aware of the rhythmic clapping of the dancers behind me, in time with the music.
I’m just about to turn around when Ọba’s eyes go wide and he points over my shoulder “Flix! Look!”
---Twila’s perspective---
The rest of the dancefloor have all stopped to turn their attention to me as I Cossack dance along with the music, my bottom contacting my heels and only centimetres from the floor with each bounce.
There are clearly enough people here familiar with Terran customs to lead the rest in what to do as hundreds of manipulators are clapped in time with the music and a chant of
fff♫ Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!♫fff
Certain I have enough space around me, I lift my right leg from the ground and stand en pointe with my other, pirouetting around at exactly one full rotation each beat as the final chorus hits.
Not having my near perfect 3D spatial awareness, the circle expands as the front row reflexively back up in alarm.
fff♫ Ra-Ra-Rasputin
Lover of the Russian queen
They didn’t quit, they wanted his head!
Ra-Ra-Rasputin
Russia’s greatest love machine
And so they shot him ’til he was deaaaad!♫fff
I bring in my limbs and stop my spin, perfectly timed with the last note played and bow as the singer says
mf♫ Oooh, those Russians!♫mf
A cheer comes up from the many species present.
I stand back up and begin walking over to Mum and Samus, both standing by the bar, beaming at me.
“Lovely show, sweetie!” my mum says “Wonderful coordination!”
Samus turns her face down to ask “That not you complimenting yourself there, Dormouse? She got her coordination from you, afterall!”
Mum taps the back of her hand against her girlfriend’s bare, washboard stomach and reproaches “Shush! She’s allowed to be proud of her attributes, even the ones she got from me!”
“Which is all of them!” I point out, twisting my elastomer lips into a wry smile.
Samus laughs but Mum corrects “No, no! Your mind is varieted from mine! It’s not a perfect copy, otherwise you’d just think you were me!”
“So the things she didn’t get from you, she got from random chance(?)” asks Samus, wryly.
“Isn’t that basically how it works for all of us? Are any of us more than the sum total of the forces that have acted upon us? Can any of us take pride in any part of ourselves if all we are are bodies built from genomes handed down by our forebears and shuffled around by genetic algorithms?” asks my mum with a playful flutter of her eyelids.
“Aaaaand the conversation has turned philosophical!… That’s my queue to go and take the massive piss I’ve been holding(!)” chuckles Samus.
“So uncouth(!)” teases my Mum (a strong contender for the least couth person alive(!)) “Could you not say ‘use the little girls’ room’ and leave a bit to the imagination(?)”
Turning back while still walking away, Samus brings up her hand to lay it horizontally in front of her chest at the height of the top of Mum’s head and smirks “Some of us aren’t ‘little’, Dormouse(!)”
“Heightist(!)” Mum calls after her as she walks off.
Turning around to the bar to indicate to the barman that she’s ready to order, she spends 1min 47.489secs acquiring drinks for her and Samus and an empty glass for me (just so I feel included, as I’m quite capable of simulating the buzz of alcohol at will!)
“So, sweetie… how are you liking your 18th?” she asks, turning to me and clinking her drink against my glass before taking a sip of it.
I smile “Definitely blows every other birthday I’ve ever had out of the water!” without mentioning that 15 of those were before I woke up, the 16th was soon enough afterward that nobody had thought to ask about it yet and the most recent one was spent on Graom-Wakhkort where opportunities for excursion were severely limited(!)
“I’m glad to hear it!… Honestly, if someone had put the idea of going clubbing with my parents to celebrate my 18th to me, I think I would’ve died from embarrassment just at the thought(!) Hopefully, you’re able to stay comfortable enough to be seen in public with me for a long time to come… Oh! And if some pretty/handsome thing catches your eye, don’t be afraid to let me and Hildy know we’re cramping your style(!) Would be nice for you to finally get some use out of the equipm…”
“Excuse me…?” comes a man’s voice from behind and, I would estimate, 25cm above us.
I turn to see a slim, average height Terran boy.
His eyes are a deep blue, his short blond hair is well combed and neatly styled, his skin is pale and he has facial features suggestive of a Central-North European origin, matching the very prim and proper Hochdeutsch German he addressed us in with only the faintest whisper of a Berliner accent.
He wears a shirt, tie and a pair of trousers that, while they definitely suit him, are completely inappropriate for a club scene(!)
Honestly, if I edited him into the place of Liselotte Schulz (Germany’s ambassador to the UN in 2092) just as he is (with only perhaps the addition of a blazer to match the trousers) and then showed the resultant footage of Kwadwo Chowdhurry’s address, most people wouldn’t spot the man more than six centuries out of time(!)
In the split second before he continues, I’m able to identify him as having come from the table of Terrans I noticed when we came in.
“…my name is Felix. I don’t know if we’ve met but I’m certain I’ve not seen this body before. Do you know me?” he asks me, completely ignoring my mum and making me sure that he has some degree of ASC.
Not quite as pronounced as Thran’s, I’d say, but on its way there!
Sweetly, I smile “I haven’t had the pleasure, Felix… My name’s Twila and this is my mum, Jennie.”
His attention turns to her, blue eyes widening as he asks “You are her mother, Ma’am?”
Jennie’s face twists as she answers “Less of the ‘Ma’am’, thank you! I’m still in my twenties until next year, even if I am a mother to an adult daughter(!)” placing an arm around my shoulders.
I see him recalibrate from the faux pas that he clearly thinks was a bigger deal than it actually was and correct “My apologies, Miss. I… uhm… I’m doing a doctorate at a university here on Citadel. My doctoral thesis is titled Personal and Subjective Experiences of Artificial Intelligence… I’d be delighted to talk to you and your daughter about the circumstances of her creation and life so far! Would either of you be willing to exchange holocoms with me?” coming on a little strong but seemingly through simple obliviousness rather than callousness or self absorption.
Clearly also aware of the man’s lack of social intelligence, my mum effortlessly redirects while minimising the snub “How about, instead, we find a table and have a chat together right here in this bar?”
In spite of my mum’s charm, the boy’s face falls as he advances on us, seeming completely unaware of just how much a 188cm man looms over a pair of 164cm girls!
His voice slightly panicked, he starts “No, please! I really need…!” but that’s as far as he gets before a strong hand closes on his left shoulder and spins him around.
---Brunhilda’s perspective---
Can a girl not spent 3 fucking minutes in the bathroom without coming back to find her girlfriend and girlfriend’s daughter being harassed by some fucking arsehole!
I hear the smarmy, posh Earthborn speaking in rapid German as he pins the pair of them against the bar.
I grab his shoulder and wheel him around to stare into my livid face.
I get not a little satisfaction from the way the scrawny boy’s deep blue eyes go wide, staring back at my icy blues as I seize him by the front of his ridiculously old fashioned shirt.
Not so tough now your on the other side of the power imbalance, are you!?
“That’s my girlfriend, you damned pigdog!” I snarl at him in Neu Rheinisch accented German.
“I… err… it’s… that’s…” he quails.
“How does it feel!? HOW does it FEEL when someone twice YOUR size is throwing their weight around and your on the receiving end, TRASH?!?!?!” I roar, drawing every eye in the bar and not caring at all.
Then, I feel a light hand on my left forearm.
I look down to see Dormouse looking up at me, her face calm and kind.
“Hildy… Put him down… he didn’t mean any harm… Did you, Felix?”
“No! No harm! I apologise if it looked otherwise! I was merely approaching these two with the hope of interviewing them for my doctoral thesis! That’s all!” jabbers the terrified Earthboy.
I hesitate a moment before deciding it can’t hurt to put a little more of the fear of whatever deity or deities he may or may not worship in him!
I pull his face a hairs breadth from mine and growl “You promise that’s all?!”
“YES! YES! I SWEAR!!!” he cowers, trying and failing to pull away.
Sneering, I release the front of his shirt and he stumbles back, gasping.
“You alright, Flix?” comes a man’s concerned, translated voice from behind me.
I turn to see a well built, dark skinned guy in a form hugging onepiece made of shiny orange material.
Behind him stands a punky Longi with a toned, wiry body, decked out in a miniskirt, croptop, makeup and tattoos that all match her red eyes and black hair.
Behind her stand an East Asian girl in a blue, crushed velvet onepiece and a brown goateed boy who looks most of the way through transitioning.
The large man stands in a posture of tension but doesn’t look like he’s intending to fight.
I match the pose.
“I’m fine, Ọba.” reassures the German “We just had a little misunderstanding that I’m sure must have been entirely my fault… but it’s over now… You don’t need to worry.”
“Alright…” says the one called Ọba, uncertainly “…if you’re sure, Flix.” before slowly turning around to make his way back the way he came, along with crushed velvet and goatee.
The punky girl stands staring at me the longest, her face unreadable.
I give her a slight eyebrow flash to indicate that I’m happy to oblige her if she still wants to make something of this but, thankfully, she doesn’t.
She turns around to follow the rest of the blond’s friends.
“So… Felix… We’re sorry about that… if you would like to join us at a table for a bit, we’d be happy to chat with you?” suggests Dormouse behind me.
I turn, fully expecting the boy to be so rattled by the experience he’s just had that he turns tail and runs to follow his friends.
“Yes! Please! I would be grateful for the opportunity!” he answers, shocking me.
Apparently, he’s either braver or stupider than I thought he was!
---Felix’s perspective---
“That’s an interesting question.” smiles Twila, thoughtfully “I think I have to say ‘no’. No one gets it quite right. On the one hand you have antiAI gardenworlders who are still quite suspicious of us. They treat me with fear and contempt and get angry when I demonstrate any kind of personhood… On the other, you have people like my ship’s CSS. He was raised by an AI and the result is that you will never meet a stronger advocate for AI rights than him… but I think it’s also left him a little blind to the fact that we are different to biologicals in some quite key ways! To him, having lived with it for as long as he can remember, it’s very normal for some people to just have calculation abilities and knowledge bases hundreds of thousands of times as powerful as his but to also have other aspects of their psyche that don’t compare. I would say that, while I don’t wish to be treated any better or worse than anyone else, some recognition of the fact that I’m not exactly like them would be appreciated and, though I definitely prefer it, that’s what I’d say was missing from the AI accepting individuals I’ve met.”
Transfixed by the captivating woman, I prompt “And, in what ways would you say you ‘don’t compare’ to biologicals?” not taking notes as I have my holo on the table, recording, and know that it will be much easier when I listen back and all the background noise has been filtered out.
“Well, I’d say that my counterfactual reasoning isn’t as good as a biological’s might be. I tend to see things in terms of ‘is’ and ‘isn’t’ and, while I definitely have a sense of the subjunctive ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’ I think my ability to imagine plans for how to achieve those possibilities myself, that I’ve not borrowed from somewhere, is much lower than most Humans, for instance.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“And do you think that’s a limitation of the current level of AI tech or is it something inherent to nonbiologicality?” I ask, enthralled.
She smiles and shakes her head “I can’t know that of course, but, if you’re only asking for my ‘personal and subjective’ take, I’d go with a qualified ‘yes’. I think the ways in which my brain is different from yours, both better and worse, are inherent to your brain being squishy and mine being much more rigid(!)… My mind is created from hers, afterall…” she places a hand on her mother’s shoulder “…and, while the hardware sustaining it should, in theory, be more than powerful enough to simulate all the interactions that occur in a Human brain, it just doesn’t, the difference in subjective experience from her inherited memories to the ones I’ve had as myself is obvious. Maybe, one day, there’ll be a new generation of AI that are much better able to bridge the gap between AI power and biological flexibility but calling it an ‘AI’ might be a little limiting in our thinking about it, I’d say.”
“That’s…” I start, thrilled by the quality of material she’s giving me! I could probably do my whole doctoral thesis just on her!
“Sorry to interrupt…” smiles the freckled Gael who mothered the fascinating AI woman across the table from me, standing and continuing “…but I think it’s getting a little near me and Samus’ bedtime, Twila…”
I’m dismayed. I’ve got so many more questions!
Then, she gives me hope by adding “Shall we see you tomorrow?”
As quickly as her girlfriend gave the hope, the scary blonde Starborn takes it away by saying “We should definitely go back to the ship together, Dormouse! It doesn’t make sense to-*oof*!” as the much shorter Gael very noticeably raises an arm to elbow her in the side.
I’m not sure exactly what that was about but the two of them look to the girl across from me.
I follow their gaze.
Twila looks from them to me and smiles “Yes… You’ll see me tomorrow. I’ll see you when you get back to the ship… but I’d like to spend more time with Felix here.”
Joy and relief wash through my chest as I utter a breathless chuckle.
---Brunhilda’s perspective---
We step out of the club onto the twilit balcony of a 2km tall skypiercer and I turn to Dormouse.
“What the fuck?” I ask “Why the fuck are we leaving her alone with that creep?!”
She smiles and sighs, shaking her head “He wasn’t a creep, Hildy… He was a sweet (if very socially awkward) boy with a genuine interest in Twila! An interest, it seems to me, she reciprocated!”
“But what if…!” I start.
“If he tries to do anything to her that she doesn’t want him to, she’s more than capable of defending herself… and, even if she weren’t, she’s more than capable of abandoning that body and then letting us and law enforcement know what happened!… Relaaaaaax!”
I scowl “I don’t like it!”
“Is there anything you do like, you curmudgeon(!?)”
I narrow my eyes at her, planning my revenge for the insult.
Without warning, I seize her from the back and lift her up in my arms, her feet more than 30cm off the ground, making her shriek.
I bring my lips to her right ear and, in a low voice, answer “Having a manhandleable girlfriend’s something I like(!)”
I feel her torso bounce with chuckles.
---Aiko’s perspective---
I walk over to the table where Flix sits with the girl he’s been interviewing for hours now.
I’m a little disappointed he’s basically spent all his club time talking to her and the two Terrans she was with but I’m at least glad I was able to get him to come out with us at all!
It seems like the AI girl’s fairly smitten with him, just from the look on her face!
Who would ever have guess that asking a girl about herself would be a viable seduction strategy(!)
Not Flix, apparently… His auty obliviousness seems like it’s keeping him utterly in the dark about what an absolutely flawless game he’s in the middle of, just by being his normal awkward self(!)
I’d really like to clue him in but, even if I could get the opportunity, I don’t really know if it’s my place.
Same way I’ve had to keep my mouth shut about what obvious feelings Ọba and Zhel have developed for eachother since she entered our social circle, earlier this year.
“Flix…” I say to catch his attention, as soon as there’s a break in the girl’s speaking “…we’re heading back to campus now… Are you coming?”
Easily readable emotions play across his face as he clearly wants to keep interviewing the girl but also doesn’t want to have to come back alone, late at night.
His comparative timidity and feebleness hasn’t allowed him to emotionally come to terms with the fact that, being a Terran, any gang of ne’er-do-wells he runs into on Citadel will (or should) be far more scared of him than he is of them(!)
The girl, likewise, has a hesitating expression… she obviously wants to keep spending time with him too.
I decide to help them along.
First, though, I have to introduce myself “Aiko ‘Patience’ Ueda, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Twila. It’s lovely to meet you too.” smiles the girl.
“Well, Twila… If you’d like to keep talking to Flix, he has a nice apartment in the campus residences… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind inviting you over…”
Looking mortified, Flix says “Aiko!” then turns to the girl and starts “Twila, you don’t…”
“I’d love to…” she smiles, her glowing blue eyes meeting his nonglowing ones.
He’s dumbstruck a moment before turning to me.
I give him a ‘You’re welcome’ smirk that I’m fairly sure he won’t have understood the meaning of.
Haltingly, he starts “Al… alright… I would be delighted to continue talking with you at my place.”
The others, having finished gathering their things, are approaching me from the right, now.
I turn to them and introduce “Everyone, this is Twila. Twila, this is Drago ‘Crystal’ Šimić…” gesturing my Nova Dalmacijan boyfriend “…this is Ọba ‘Shiny’ Rótìmí…” indicating the Earthborn Yoruba “…and this is Zhel ‘Vampire’ Winter.” placing my hand on the muscular shoulder of the gothy, red eyed Longi ODR security guard.
After a few moments of everyone greeting eachother, the girl turns to Flix and observes “You never gave me your last name, Felix. What is it?”
He blushes and, sensing his discomfort, Drago launches into action (though definitely not to help), coming to the back of Flix’s seat, clapping his hands on his shoulders and smirking “Flix here’s got an illustrious lineage behind him… Haven’t you… Mr Nachtnebel?”
Clearly shocked, the girl looks at Flix and asks “Nachtnebel… Like… Helmut Nachtnebel!?”
“Yup!” Drago answers, clearly very pleased with himself “AI obsession must run in the family because Flix here is a direct, male-line descendant of the man who originally cracked it!”
---Twila’s perspective---
He’s embarrassed.
It was an awkward capsule ride here for him after his friend’s tease.
It’s cute!
I’m guessing he’s worried that knowledge of his last name makes his interest in AIs (and by extension, me) look less legitimate by making it seem like he’s just gone into the family business(!)
As his apartment door opens and we step through, he starts “Listen… Twila… I…”
“You have a lovely place.” I cut him off, looking around the tidy home.
Like Thran, his autism seems to have made him quite fastidious about his living space which, from what I understand, is certainly not a given.
It’s immaculately clean and well ordered, like a showhouse, but there are some signs that someone actually lives here.
“I like your posters!” I smile, raising an arm to indicate the hangings he has on the far wall of his apartment, across the lounge area from the door. They’re reproductions of the old movie posters for Big Hero 6, Wall-E and The Iron Giant “I’m sensing a little bit of a theme to them. You’re a fan of turn of the millennium films about robots, I gather?”
“Uhm… Yes… I am… I think it was a really fascinating time in our history… True AI was still a little way off but people were starting to form ideas about what it would be like when it finally arrived… Those ones were my 4th, 3rd and 2nd favourites growing up… I rewatch them periodically and I still enjoy them.” he says, walking past the kitchen to take a seat on the sofa.
“And what was your favourite?” I ask, sweetly, taking the seat beside him.
He points behind me to what I infer to be his bedroom door where I infer him to have another poster hanging “The Wild Robot series! Absolutely!”
“Oh, I love them! Definitely some of my favourites too!”
“Really?!” he asks, excitedly “Have you ever read the books?”
I change my eye colour from azure to pink for a quarter of a second, just to indicate to him that I’m doing something, then answer “I have now!”
He bears his teeth in an adorable chuckle at the (from his perspective) absurdity of reading an entire book series in such a short time before asking “What did you think?”
“Honestly… I think I prefer the films for the most part but there are definitely a few things I think the books did better. I was never really a fan of the liar-revealed moment, in the first film, where Brightbill finds out Roz isn’t his mother. It always felt a little contrived to me. It’s also a little ironic since book Roz is arguably more responsible for what happened than film Roz! Book Roz lost her footing herself, where film Roz was actively chased and thrown down the mountain! The differences in pacing were interesting. Also interesting were the characters they cut from the film, like Chitchat and Loudwing and the way they promoted Fink from a bit character to Roz’s main companion.” I analyse.
He chuckles, having been successfully distracted from his unease over my learning his last name, and says “That’s… incredible… almost exactly my thoughts!”
“Two fools, one thought(!)” I tease us both with the German idiom.
He smiles, uncertainly.
I lean back in a relaxed looking posture and observe “You know Felix, I think I’d like to learn more about you if that’s alright?”
I see him frown from the corner of my eye (which has exactly the image quality of every other part of my vision) and ask “Really?”
“Yes. You’ve been asking me about myself all night long and it’s just occurred to me I don’t really know anything about you other than what you’re studying and, now, what your favourite films are.”
“Alright, go ahead?” he says, nervously.
“How old are you, Felix?” I ask the cute boy, warmly.
“24… What about you?” he answers.
“That depends… how long I’ve existed? How long I’ve been sentient? How much of my mum’s life I remember? How long I’ve subjectively lived in dataspace terms?”
“The first two… I’m sure the latter are quite complicated to relate.”
“I’ve been sentient for a little more than 2 years. I’ve existed for exactly 18.”
“Exactly?” he frowns.
“Today was my 18th. My mum and her girlfriend took me out to celebrate.”
His face falling in horror, he starts “Oh! I’m so sor-”
“Don’t apologise…” I interrupt, raising my palm “…I’ve really enjoyed spending it with you, Felix.”
He hesitates before nodding.
“Any siblings?” I ask, scooching closer to him on the couch.
“Yes… I have an older and a younger sister.”
“And what are they like?”
“They’re kind… and clever… both much more clever than me! Lisa is in the Navy. Johanna is a painter.”
“They sound lovely… Can I call you ‘Flix’ or would you prefer I stick with ‘Felix’? Is ‘Flix’ just for your friends?”
“You… You can call me ‘Flix’… if you want.” he answers.
“Alright, ‘Flix’ then… Do you have a girlfriend, Flix? A boyfriend?”
The briefest pained expression flashes over his face before he answers “No… single…”
I keep my expression neutral but dance a happy little jig inside my mind before moving on to ask “You’re from Berlin?”
“I am.”
“And is that where you did your undergrad?” I probe.
“Yes… at the Technische Universität.” he confirms my suspicion.
“Wow! That’s quite the Mecca of AI studies!” I observe, not pointing out that it’s also where his ancestor succeeded in creating the first of my kind ever known to not go immediately insane “What made you decide to do your doctorate here?” I gesture around to indicate all of Citadel.
“I… I… uhm… I suppose I thought that advanced GU computing would make for interesting new avenues in AI studies… I didn’t really consider the lack of AIs there would actually be here…” he points a hand at me “…you’re the first one I’ve had a real conversation with like this since I got here!”
“You used to talk like this with AIs on Earth?” I smile.
“Yes… many times!” he answers, completely oblivious to my flirtation.
I decide to make it more obvious “And… did you ever do… more than talk?”
His back straightens as he frowns, not meeting my eyes, and says “I… err… I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Did you ever do anything more… intimate with any of those that you talked to?” I ask, pressing myself into his side.
“No… never…” he says, paralysed.
I reach my hand up to the left side of his jaw and turn his cute face towards mine “Would you like to change that, Flix?”
The numerous miniscule movements of his irides give away that he’s thinking at 1000ly a second about how to answer.
Then, he simply says “Yes.”
---Felix’s perspective---
The solid hand is transferred to the back of my neck and my face is pulled down.
Hers flies upward and our lips meet.
The supple give of her cool elastomer beneath my lips is absolutely sublime!
She closes her eyes, cutting off their glow.
I follow her lead and close mine, just experiencing the feeling of the kiss.
She slides her left arm between my right and the couch and wraps it around my back.
I respond by wrapping both of my arms around her shoulders and squeezing her sturdy body against mine.
I feel it as she lifts her right leg and brings it across my lap to straddle me, pinning me to my seat.
From the portion of her weight she allows to rest on me, I can tell she is far too heavy for me to try lifting up.
Her nimble fingers come to my neck and start to loosen my tie before pulling it off me to cast aside onto the place she was just sitting.
She stops and pulls her lips from mine.
I have a moment of panic and my eyes shoot open as I think I must have been doing everything wrong! I was kissing her wrong, putting my hands on her wrong, getting an erection wrong and now she’s either going to tell me to do things right or simply leave because I didn’t immediately know how to do things right already!
Instead, she says “I’m going to take off your shirt, now… if that’s alright, Flix?” smiling, her eyes still closed.
I hesitate about how to answer that question sexily before giving up and just saying “Please.”
Her smile broadens and she opens her eyes.
Her nimble, mechanical fingers work their way down my front at a speed I could never match, perfectly taking exactly enough time to undo each button before moving on. No more, no less.
After she’s undone the last, her hands reach to between the shirt’s shoulders and mine, pushing them off and sliding them down my arms.
Her eyes stare down at my skinny torso and I’m mildly terrified she might appraise me unfavourably but then I feel relief as she brings a cool elastomer palm to press into my chest with what seems like pleasure.
She leans in to resume kissing me and running her hands over my, now bare, upper half.
I reciprocate, feeling her elastomer skin squash beneath my fingers as I run them down her back to squeeze her buttocks.
Then, her fingers slide under my boxers.
---Twila’s perspective---
I feel his body tense up beneath me and immediately pull my hand from his underwear and lips from his to ascertain the problem.
“What’s wrong?”
His gorgeous slim chest heaving in adorable pants, he says “Nothing’s wrong… I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind moving things to the bedroom before we proceed?”
I giggle and answer “Sure, Flix… No problem!” before getting off his lap and standing up.
I don’t point out that, in a single occupant apartment with a locked door and one way windows, we have just as much privacy in the lounge as the bedroom.
If the bedroom makes him more comfortable, there’s absolutely no reason not to agree to the change!
He gets up and leads the way, treating me to a view of his surprisingly well defined back muscles as he walks.
I hold down my excitement at being finally about to get my V-card punched… at least not counting the stuff I did in dataspace with Atlantiades… not sure if I’d quite say what I did with them was ‘sex’ but it was certainly not family friendly(!)
His door opens and, after he’s cleared the way, I see a poster of a round, friendshaped robot, without a mouth or nose and with her body lit by strips of pink LED, holding a fluffy little gosling centimetres from her face, hanging above his bed.
At the back of his desk are posed three figurines of the Laputan robot troopers whose design very clearly inspired that of Roz in the film released 38 years and 54 days later in history.
I’m half expecting his bedsheets to be robot themed as well but, once I get a good view of them, I see they’re just a neutral blue colour and immaculately made.
I close the door and activate the privacy before smirking as I advance on him.
The adorable boy is obviously nervous as I draw near and reach to his belt.
Able to undo it by tactile feedback alone, I look up into his eyes as I undo it and pull it out of the loops on his old fashioned trousers.
He chokes on his own breath as I push them down over his slim hips.
Now clad only in his boxers, I push him into a seated position on the bed.
He stares up at me with his adorably nervous face.
It’s funny, this meek and mild doctoral student really, strongly reminds me of my mum’s memory of the accountant boy that her parents tried to set her up with, back on her home planet!
While I totally get the offputting nature of her parents trying to arrange a match for her, I personally wouldn’t have shared her revulsion for the boy they picked.
Flix is also the perfect opposite of his, outwardly stern and stoic, ancestor!
By all accounts historical, Helmut Nachtnebel was a deeply compassionate man (he is the one that worked out that designing and treating sentient AIs as people instead of slaves was the way to keep them from going insane, afterall!)… he just wasn’t a particularly friendly or warm one, at least in his public persona, which is most of what’s available to judge him by!
He certainly wouldn’t have been my type in the way that this descendant of his is!
I lean down, taking his pretty face in my hands and whispering “Relax, Flix… Sex is meant to be fun, right? You look like you’re about to be executed(!)”
He chuckles before answering “I think I would be less nervous in that case(!)” at full speaking volume.
I giggle before going in for another kiss.
As our lips wrestle with eachother, I raise my left leg onto the bed and bring it between his.
Extending my knee to his boxers, I press it into him.
I feel his whole body shudder as I massage his groin, feeling the already hard appendage beneath the cloth growing harder with each passing second.
Using my superior density, I move forward and knock him over onto his back.
My hands come back to his hips and, this time, pull away his underwear.
Freed from his confinement, I can see he’s a slightly surprising size.
I part my lips and grin, reaching out the tips of my fingers for the lightest caress.
He positively melts at the contact.
I point behind him and suggest “How about you pull yourself up to the pillows, Flix?”
---Felix’s perspective---
My feet leave the floor as I pull myself all the way onto my bed and the back of my head meets my pillows.
“Do you mind if I turn the lights down?” she asks.
“Please do.” I invite, expecting her to turn around to go to the room panel.
Instead, her eyes momentarily change colour while the rooms lighting dims.
She mounts the bed and crawls up my front.
Everything about this woman… is absolutely perfect!
The ethereal beauty of her mechanical body…
The cool, smooth feeling of her elastomer against my skin…
The graceful precision of her every movement…
Her playful, confident personality…
The kind reassurance…
She seems like everything I love all rolled into one!
She is transcendent perfection and she knows it… and, it stands to reason, she knows I am not!
She can see my every frailty, can’t she… My every failing of body and mind is visible before her… and she doesn’t seem to care at all!
She plants one hand below my right armpit and one into the pillows beside my left ear.
She draws in for another kiss, her elastomer breasts squashing against my chest as she rests more and more of her (not inconsiderable) weight on my front.
I can feel the power contained in her little body as I wrap my arms around her and press her deeper into me.
The only way I’d be able to get up right now is if she lets me up!
I feel as the panel between her legs opens up.
She breaks from the kiss and pushes her head to around a 30cm above mine, her rose gold wire hair hanging down to create a privacy curtain around our faces as her glowing eyes meet my organic ones.
“Ready, Flix?” she whispers.
“Mmm-hmm!” I confirm, fully expecting to wake up from this dream some time in the next few seconds.
Her hands unmoving, something apprehends me and pulls my length upwards.
---Twila’s perspective---
The cute boy closes his eyes and moans as I pull him into the soft pelvic port that I’ve warmed, lubricated and sized specifically to his dimensions.
I’m suddenly quite grateful to my mum for the time she spent… ‘equipping’ me(!)
I would have been quite happy to do without until I found someone I wanted to do this with but she (rightly) pointed out that, if exactly this situation ever arose, I’d be caught short and would have to settle for manual and oral!
I have to say… meatspace sex really blows meatspace and dataspace masturbation out of the water so far!
Even the stuff I did with Atlantiades (though hot) doesn’t quite compare to this!
As my insides vibrate, undulate and oscillate in order to stimulate and I see his every vital sign rise in line with a building orgasm, I ease off.
I want to edge him for as long as possible while I enjoy the sensation of him being inside me and the sight of him being tortured by the pleasure and tantalised by the thought of release!
It’s quite funny… I can simulate an orgasm any time I want to but… the unsimulated pleasure I feel from being filled by this adorable cutey feels… different somehow!
The fact that I’m feeling pleasure without being the one to directly trigger that pleasure, instead having it triggered autonomically from something happening to my body, is a novel experience for me!
I decide I want more!
I straighten up and grab his wrists.
I bring his hands to my chest to indicate that I want him to rub my elastomer tits.
He complies with the implied instruction and new waves of pleasure erupt from the new contact.
Of course, my mum built them to be erogenous and didn’t tell me(!)
I wanted to make Flix beg to cum before I let him but… I’m not sure I can hold out much longer!
As the fifth wave of pleasure swells beneath us, I’m torn between whether to let it ebb again or to finally let it break!
The point of no return looms and I have to make a decision.
Impulsively, I decide to redouble the stimulation this time.
His eyes shoot open and he gasps for breath, his whole body shuddering as a feeling like a pleasure supernova exploding wracks my entire being!
My eyes involuntarily flash through the entire visible spectrum as I seize his upper arms and squeeze them.
The pleasure finally subsides and I collapse sideways, onto his bed.
---Felix’s perspective---
Bruised and exhausted after several rounds over the last few hours, I lie next to the beautiful woman, staring into her stunningly luminous eyes.
“How was it for you?” she asks.
“The best I’ve ever had.” I answer without hesitation.
“Same.” she smiles back, seemingly content.
There is a moment of quiet between us… not the awkward kind… A peaceful quiet.
Then a thought occurs to me.
“I… err… I guess I really should have asked this before but… what exactly are you, looking for?… I know you said you were the manager of a ship, so I’m assuming anything long term is off the table but… is there time for me to see you again before you leave…” I ask, nervously.
Her elastomer lips part in a broad grin and she answers “Definitely, Flix!… My ships here for the next few weeks at least, possibly longer… and…*kiss*… I’d absolutely love to see you again before I go!”
Relief washes over me as I say “Good… I’m very glad!”
I resolve not to suggest any continuation of our relationship after she leaves this planet… I’m not quite that socially unaware!
“Do you mind if I stay here tonight, Flix? I can’t sleep or eat but I’d quite like to share breakfast with you, even if I’m only simulating the taste of pancakes(!)”