DELUXE MODEL {Work In Progress}

                                                                 

DELUXE MODEL

         "I did it, I did it!"

         Patricia sat in her office, intrigued.  Enthusiasm was fairly oozing from Syndraa's glowing holo-image.  Her girlfriend's beautiful face, suspended just above the emitter plate embedded in the desk, was radiant.  Regardless the quality of her office comm systems, the manufacturers of the visual synthesizers could not take the credit for what her friend had been born with.  Syndraa fidgeted anxiously, so excited she seemed like she might burst if she didn't get the details out immediately.  Her excitement, Patricia had to admit, was infectious.

         "I finalized my order today, it's going to be delivered by the end of the week!"

         "It...?  It what, exactly?" Patricia probed, edging slightly forward.  "What's going to be delivered, Syn?" 

         Conscious now of being overheard, Syndraa whispered "Are you...alone?"

         Patricia nodded.  While she'd followed every word since Syndraa popped up, she slid aside the datapads she'd been laboring over for hours, a gesture to show her girlfriend she had full monopoly on her attentions.  Quietly, fingers laced, she waited on the edge of her plush seat for what was obviously going to be a surprise answer.

         "I just finalized my order of a Solomon-Class InterActive, fully loaded!"

         "You didn't!"

         "I did!" Syndraa burst back, giggling.  "He'll be delivered Friday, no later than 14:30.  God, I can't wait to see him.  I've heard soooo much about them..."  Syndraa let the rest of her sentence trail off but the tinge in her cheeks told Patricia exactly where her thoughts had gone.

         "But---"

         "Oh yeah, you need to get off early on Friday."

         "Wha...?  Why?" Patricia stumbled as Syndraa stared back, the hologram almost doing justice to those beautiful, almond-shaped eyes so filled now with mischief.

         "Well," she began, eyes roving still for eavesdroppers.  "With the configuration I ordered, he's more than a match for me so I'm going to need some, uhm...help."

         Patricia found herself at a complete loss, though her body tingled hotly as the implications of her girlfriend's plans came sharply into focus.

         The Solomon-Class InterActive was a top-end android companion geared for the pleasures industry.  It was a new series gaining notoriety for their greater than human attributes and meticulously detailed craftsmanship.  Every unit was precisely modified to meet the particular specifications of each client.  Backed by a seductive personality matrix, a tireless synthetic body that looked and felt more human than human and a sexuality database unrivaled in the unified territories, the Solomons were sexual dynamos without equal.  Now, thanks to Syndraa, Patricia was going to experience first-hand what she'd only caught whispers about, something she had long ago reasoned as outside both her reach and desires. 

         On her own, this was an indulgence she could skip easily in lieu of other, more "reputable" uses for her income.  Real men weren't nearly as large an investment and they were...well...real.  Funny how easily the change of circumstances impacted that particular opinion.  Very, very soon she and Syndraa were going to be immersed in the blunt realities of what a Solomon could do.  More human than human, more human than human...  More sexual than human, that was the real point.  More sexual, more sensual, more attentive, and---last but certainly not least---physically perfect.  That made her wonder what...size Syndraa had ordered.  Patricia found herself pressing her smooth thighs together, her vulva clutching reflexively as she anticipated finding out.

         Amidst the lascivious thoughts flooding her imagination and driving her body to distraction, Patricia's practical--- cynical--- side kept a nagging anchor in the here and now, the realities of day-to-day living.  She worried, like they always did about one another, that Syndraa had just made a grossly expensive impulse purchase, one that--- to the best of her knowledge--- her friend's budget wasn't equipped to handle.  Half-listening to the remainder of Syndraa's spirited chattering, she found herself considering the situation further.  No, it couldn't have been impulsive, a Solomon wasn't a small investment by any means.  In order for Syndraa to be able to finalize the transaction, a full third of the purchase price had to be paid with established income verification showing the ability to pay the balance.  Somehow, somewhere, a major change in Syndraa's finances had to have occurred.

         Patricia leaned forward again, staring at the holovid.  "What's going on, Syndraa?"

         "What are you talking about?"

         "You know exactly what I mean.  Where is the money for this... this toy coming from?"

         Looking conspiratorial again, the corners of Syndraa's mouth drew up at the corners wickedly.  "Two things I've been waiting for have finally come through:  my promotion...and my divorce!"

         "W-when?" Patricia asked, again surprised.

         "The beginning of the week.  I am finally free of that bastard...  Anyway, I got awarded a respectable settlement and---at nearly the same time---the branch managers took their heads out of their collective asses and recognized my value.  The Solomon is my gift to me---to us---to celebrate.  I wanted it to be a special treat, thats why I hadn't said anything to you before today.  This is going to be a nice little V.I.P. party juuuuussst for the two of us.  Well, okay, the three of us."

         Well, that was that.  Patricia chewed anxiously on her plump lower lip trying not to blush and keep from asking some of the more intimate questions circling her active mind.  She'd heard so many stories about the pleasure model InterActives it was difficult to separate techno-fantasy and outright fiction from actual fact.  The Pan Net was loaded with ads for male and female pleasure 'droids--- including the upscale InterActives--- and all were summed up with the same closing challenge: "Exceed the limits you have known,  prepare to explore the totality of sensual fulfillment and intimacy."

         Science had tackled the most unifying of human appetites with staggering success.  Even if those advertisements proved only partially true, the InterActive would still be better than all the men she'd known thus far.  It would selflessly strive to meet every fantasy the two of them could cook up, attend every detail. 

         Less than a day from now.  God, she hadn't considered how satisfaction-starved she was until right this moment.  Her skin tingled hotly and she wondered how badly she was blushing. 

         Patricia smiled; Syndraa was a damned good friend.



                                   

~~~WAKING UP~~~

         "Alright everyone, status check."

         "Power  core: stable.  Power output: 290 megajoules per second and holding; full transfer integrity, negative bleed.  Processor functional temperature of Negative 68.52 degrees Celsius achieved and holding, optimal clocking speed achieved and holding.  Chassis' dermal surface temperature fixed at 37 degrees Celsius and holding."

         "Initiating cognitive protocols: alpha-zero-zero-zero-zero-one through epsilon nine-nine-nine-nine-nine. "

         Verifying...

         Verifying... 

         Verifying... 

         "Core cognitive protocols verified and implemented, secondary batch collating."

         Collating... 

         Collating... 

         Collating...

         "Task complete, all higher cognitive functions operational as of 07:22 hours, November 12, 2876.  Awaiting final loading of client-specific prioritized subroutines."

         That was how I began my existence, listening to that monotone acknowledgment of the enormous amount of perfectly performing artificial intelligence which comprised my being coming smoothly online in addition to the checklist of self-diagnostics I was currently running on my equally perfect chassis--- forgive me, my body.  It would be another five minutes before I would boot up my personality matrix and bring, among other things, my vocal algorithms and sub-processors online, giving me a recognizable sense of self and a voice able to--- so my designer's pledged--- "liquefy a woman's capacity to resist".  Reflexively I archived the moment for later analysis.  I was hardwired to do that with every experience in order to better understand my reality, solidify my comprehension of self, and to improve my overall performance.

         Standing immobile at the center of a bright, high-ceilinged room with curving walls and cool, purified air I saw that I was surrounded by seven individuals and a bristling array of machinery.  Five males, two females, all of whom were involved in tasks that seemed to be connected in some manner or another with me.  One of the males approached closely, staring into my eyes. 

         "Don't think I've seen a better one roll off the line yet.  What do you think, Harris?"

         The one he referred to as "Harris" stepped forward and my cognitive cross-reference explained her mannerisms and the tinge of color in her otherwise pale cheeks as an emotional reaction: she was blushing.  She looked over my body in an appraising head to toe once-over, although I noticed her eyes did linger a bit longer at my groin before she cleared her throat and replied.

         "Yes, yes definitely.  This order has provided us an opportunity to bridge some of our most... sophisticated features together in one package.  He's...impressive." she said, her eyes dipping again to my groin.  "You know, I hope the client really understood the capabilities of the articulated penis option she ordered.  It's proportions...well, it's potentially quite intimidating."

         "Hah!" This from another male, 40 degrees by 2.74 meters to my left, moving in behind Harris.  "I thought all women wanted a man with one like that."

         "Burke, just because every woman you've slept with wasn't satisfied, don't blame it all on the diminutive size of your penis."

         "Yeah, whatever.  If you want to find out for yourself, you know where I live."
         
         "Might we get back to actual work, children...?" the first man asked.  He was obviously the group leader and from appearance also senior in age.  He considered me carefully, smiling all the while.  "With a few dozen more high-end orders like him, we will be ready to compete with conglomerates like SexTek.  Compete...and win."

         "SexTek has been in the lead thanks to its fabrication technology and chassis design.  And being the first robotics company to transition to android technologies, they never had any competition."

         "Exactly.  Without any competition, meeting that physiological standard was enough for them and their R&D practically slid to a standstill.  No interest whatsoever in expanding the capacity of their products, of extending their uses.  We are taking a deeper road, our sub-zero molecular poly-processors will set the new standard; our InterActives will prove they are more than pre-programmed mannequins.  From the Solomon-class onward, all our IAs will be capable of not just performing but of imagining as well."

         Imagining.  I listened to the emphasis on that word, the way the octaves fluctuated with each syllable; it was an expression of wonderment.  Imagination...creativity...  The capacity to exceed my database, to distinguish myself.  My brain was their true wonder.  A hyper-efficient network of compressed, molecular poly-processors existing at a constant sub-zero temperature that enabled it to handle all the data load involved in 'life' without lag or intensity degradation.  Just like a human central nervous system, only better. 

         "Sir, the persona template is ready for download," another of the workers said, calling from across the room.  He was referring to that final, crucial phase; what would set me on the irreversible road of becoming autonomous, of becoming "me".  They were about to load a binding template into my core that would fuse with my database and create a behavioral pattern that was singularly unique unto me.  This meant that even if there were a million units manufactured that looked identical to me, no other unit could actually be me. 

         "Proceed, we have a schedule to keep."

         "Yes, sir.  Initiating download...now."

         A surge rippled through me.  Twenty billion terabytes of interactive behavioral subroutines and reaction scenarios spiraled at just under the speed of light into my memory core.  My positronic matrix had its most crucial elements written to it at last, finalizing my "birth" and initiating my individuality.  SOLOMON unit: 0052570 had just become "Troy", the name my client, Syndraa Zaahm, had chosen for me.  "Troy"--- I--- was six foot four and three-quarter inches tall, weighing two hundred twenty-two pounds.  My service life was estimated by the life of my cyclonic power distribution system and that was projected to last in excess of sixty years at peak efficiency without replacement. 

         I currently had a database preload that enabled me to fluently speak twenty trans-global dialects and eighty-eight pan-galactic languages with the capacity to learn any others I was able to obtain sufficient samples of.  Syndraa had requested additionally that I be athletically proficient in five of her favorite sports: tennis, swimming, football, soccer, and full-range equestrian techniques.  Along with these specialty skills she had also asked that I be given a tactical database of armed and unarmed combat which would enable me to function as an ideal bodyguard though nothing in her profile indicated an actual need for such protection.  In addition to being able to provide for her physical security, my most crucial function as sexual partner would be enabled by my sensual programming. 

         Upon activation I was now intimately versed with knowledge that included everything from the multiple versions of the Kama Sutra, the Tao Te Ching, and the Rigellian Book of Tantric Intuition to the first and second editions of Lesbian Sex Secrets For Men.  This, coupled with the deliberate appeal of my customized facial features and sculpted torso  made me--- my creators enthusiastically believed--- "hot". 

         I discretely listened to several ongoing conversations.  All of them, in one manner or another, still concerned the nature of my penis.  I could achieve a maximum erectile length of eight and three-quarter inches by three inches in diameter.  While it was sculpted and fabricated to feel and appear as "natural" as the rest of me, my penis was, unlike humans, under my complete control.  Erection required no stimulus to be achieved or to maintain, my organ had a segmented spine that allowed me at will to articulate or distend it much like a tentacle or the body of a serpent.  I was capable of effecting variations in its core temperature.  I had modifiable reservoirs that could secrete a liquid with the same dynamics as semen but whose flavor I could alter from either "organic"---flavor neutral---to one of 3 other alternate combinations.  Ejaculation was assisted by a dedicated processor that randomized the quantity of each climax.  To be blunt, the particulars of my design had even made ME extremely curious as to what my existence and the performance of my duties would truly be like.  All the data I possessed was exactly that, data.  What I was anticipating now were the dynamics of real-time experiences and sensations.

         How would my human client react to me?  Would she be pleased, would my performance make her happy?  Would I fulfill the needs she had specified for a companion?  Would I...enjoy it?  My mind raced over these and dozens of other questions as I became progressively more acclimated to my surroundings.  Flexors in my hand fired as I tested my grip, closing my fingers into a fist then opening them again.  Around me the scientists watched, speaking amongst themselves as they noted my every action and reaction.  Once I was satisfied with the functionality of my body I stepped down from the platform I was on and walked up to the senior man. 

         "Hello," I said with a smile, extending my hand.  "I'm Troy, may I get dressed please?"  The older man laughed out loud.

         "Did you hear that, Harris, he'd like his clothes!"

         "Yes, I heard him," Harris said, and I saw that she was still blushing.  Apparently, even though she had helped create me, my finalized nudity was somehow distracting to her.  "Uhm... Troy, that alcove over there has all your toiletries and clothing.  Select an outfit that suits you and rejoin us when you've finished dressing, understood?"

         "Of course, thank you very much, Dr. Harris."  Turning, I moved off in the direction she had indicated and as I did I cast a parting glance over my shoulder.  It didn't require high definition visual processors for me to catch Dr. Harris staring what appeared to be longingly at my backside.  Judging by this, I concluded that I was having the desired effect on female sensibilities.  If my client, Syndraa, was at all like Dr. Harris--- who thus far was my first encountered female--- I would be accomplishing my role with ease. 

         Curiously, that idea made me smile.

         I stopped just short of the dressing area and surveyed the assortment of shirts, pants, shoes and jackets that represented my initial wardrobe options.  Accessing the profile of the woman I'd been created for, I cross-referenced her "Get To Know Me" interview with a list of subjective choices that included, among other things, Syndraa's favorite colors.  With that in mind I composed an outfit intended to appeal to her preferences and equally distinguish myself favorably.  Even with this being my first 35.1 minutes of awareness, I still grasped the weighted significance of first impressions...

{ To Be Continued... }