Stephanie Steele

They’d stopped off at Nixon’s apartment so she could get changed. Steele couldn’t understand why it was taking her an hour up till now just to change clothes, wash and brush her hair. Nixon’s apartment was a large open plan affair. It was neat and tidy and everything in its place. Minimalistic was what they called it. A living area, kitchen and bedroom were only separated by thin screen doors which could be pulled back to make one large room. Nixon had pulled the screen door over the bedroom area while she changed. Steele could just make out Nixon’s slim silhouette as she walked about the room trying on outfit after outfit. She’d grown tired of that after the fifth outfit.

Nixon had put the TV on for her when they’d arrived but there was nothing of interest to Steele who sat stiffly on a small couch channel hopping. She’d settled on the news channel hoping against hope that she wouldn’t see Mia’s photo staring back at her with the newsreader saying she was just the latest victim of the serial killer Leon. She didn’t. Instead the newsreader was talking about a new initiative to alleviate the pollution problem. Same old.

As she waited for Nixon she heard about an explosion on the Iranian underground killing three hundred people. They were blaming the white christian fundamentalist terrorists, the third attack of its kind in the last sixth months on muslim communities. They’d also staged a mass burning of the Koran the week before and had caused near riots in the southern states of The United States of Africa. Nearer home, there was a story of a man in Detroit, who’d had his children’s heads transplanted because he thought they were ugly. Steele sneered when they showed a photo of him and thought he should look in the mirror sometime soon. There was a report on Cyber Corp on the verge of being granted a $900M contract to supply their new droid soldiers to the military and pictures of the new droids. They reminded Steele of Frankenstein.

She muted the sound and turned to see if there was any indication Nixon was ready yet. There was no more movement from the bedroom. Steele didn’t know if that was good or bad. Why had she agreed to this? She wished she could just get it over with so she could get home and relax with a beer before she powered down to another lonely night. She could really do without this. What she really wanted to do was give Freddy a vid call and see if he’d made progress with decrypting those files. But they’d only left his place just over an hour ago and Freddy had said it would take all night. She couldn’t stop thinking about Mia. She’d wanted her to look after her. She couldn’t even manage that for one day, how would she have managed bringing up a teenager on a daily basis? Now she’d never even have that choice.

She tried not to think what Mia could be going through right now. What that slimy scuzzball was doing to her. She hated her job at times. Times when this happened. I promise I will find you Mia. If I can find you and save you again I will, she thought and tried not to think too deeply about it. If she did it would drive her crazy. She just had to be patient and see if Freddy could provide her with any clues and prayed she would have time do something about it. She hated this waiting around. Perhaps she’d just slip away now and apologise to Nixon in the morning. She stood to do just that.

“Hey Nixon, I was thinking that maybe we should do this another time. It’s late, I’ve got things to do and . . .” Steele’s words trailed off. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She’d thought Nixon was good looking but the girl who stood in front of her now made her processors stutter. She was unrecognisable almost. Her hair was curled and full of body. Her eyes sparkled, her cheekbones seemed more pronounced. She was wearing cherry red lipstick, her lips full and inviting. Her outfit was a short one piece figure hugging red dress which accentuated every delicious curve of her body. And what a body it was!

The dress had an open back which came around the sides revealing a modest area of side boob and all the way down her back showing just a tantalising glimpse of a small peach shaped bottom. A plunging neckline revealed a small but amply pert cleavage. An area of translucent material exposed a flat smooth stomach and a neat little navel. Androids were anatomically correct to please humans of course. That was the point. They had to pass for human for human aesthetical pleasure. The bottom of the dress came down to just below her ass cheeks, and extending the rest of the way a slender and athletic pair of shapely legs, the calf muscles taut and lean, enhanced by a pair of cherry red stilettos. It left nothing to the imagination and Steele’s imagination was certainly imagining.

Nixon pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary and gave Steele a little smile as she fastened her outfit matching purse. Over her arm was a small bag. “Did you say something?” Nixon said innocently, pretending not to have heard Steele a moment ago.

“I . . . I er,” For once Steele was lost for words. “I . . . er, I think I’m a little over dressed.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got something that will look stunning on you.” Nixon proudly held the bag aloft. “Come on then. You can get changed at your place on the way. I don’t think Les Pink will let you in touting a gun on your hip. It’s one of the classy joints and what you’re wearing, while gives you a certain attractiveness, is not exactly flattering is it? And I want to show you off.” Nixon smiled, linked her arm through Steele’s and tugged her towards the door.

Les Pink nightclub was the club to go to for anyone and everyone with a passion for flamboyance and extravagance. Here was the gathering point for the fun and the fantastic. Straight people were allowed but it was primarily for the Le-Gay-Bi-Tran-Genfix majority of society. Queens of all shapes and sizes tried to out queen each other with amazing outfits of multicoloured sequins, feathers and high heels. The higher the better. Gay men strutted around proudly with bare chests and tight hot pants. Some had shaved chests. Some proudly displayed a forest of hair. One guy wore a pair of bright yellow shorts with a slit up the back exposing a naked silky smooth ass any female would die for. Women dressed as men and men dressed as woman with confidence. Super hot girls who were born male had bodies to make any natural female jealous of. Men who had been genfixed from female were in abundance and they looked beautiful too.

The club’s decor was equally as bright and fancy with balloons, banners and decorations adorning the multicoloured walls, ceiling and floor. The music was loud and the dance floor crowded as to be expected in a place where fun was essential. The crown seemed to merge into a splendid array of colour, sparkle and glitter. It was hard to tell where one person’s clothing ended and another started.

The moving mass of bodies were gyrating and bouncing enthusiastically to the music; some twentieth century band called Abba. Then the tempo shifted with a change of song and the crowd cheered in unison and those who had been standing on the sidelines suddenly made for the dance floor. The crowd jumped and waved their arms in the air and sang along to certain phrases in the song drowning out the music: I THREW YOUR SHIT INTO A BAG AND PUSHED IT DOWN THE STAIRS! I CRASHED MY CAR INTO A BRIDGE AND WATCHED IT BURN! I DON’T CARE! I LOVE IT! Another retro track.

Steele sat at the bar nursing a tequila. She tugged self consciously on the hem of the outrageously short dress Nixon had made her wear. It was a strapless black number. Fairly modest given the current setting, but it scarcely held in her heaving breasts, barely covered her ass and left her legs exposed. She hadn’t been able to manage the high heels Nixon had brought so she’d wore a pair of conservative black flat shoes which Uma had left at her apartment at some point.

She felt like she’d been melted down and poured into the dress and reset inside it, it was that tight. She wasn’t shy about showing her body but she was decidedly uncomfortable at this minute. What she wouldn’t give for a pair of army fatigues and jack boots right now.

A cute passing waitress looked her up and down and flashed her a smile and a wink. Steele looked away, not wanting to offer any encouragement, but was flattered all the same. It was bad enough she’d given in to Nixon’s date request but this was as far as it went. These goods were definitely off limits.

Steele took another swig of her tequila, thanking life for the warm liquid on the back of her throat. It was her second drink of the night and she could feel her processing speed had been compromised by six percent. She looked across the room to the dance floor where Nixon was dancing. Steele had declined to dance with her, preferring to watch from the sidelines. She allowed herself a smile as she stared at her blonde date. Nixon was obviously used to this crowd. She was always popular with everyone. Had more friends than anyone she knew and could fit in anywhere, unlike her who liked to keep herself to herself and hated other people’s company. It hadn’t always been that way. She used to know how to enjoy herself, but since Uma that had all stopped. Enjoying herself would be like Uma had never existed, like she’d forgotten her and she’d meant nothing. Well no one was going to accuse her of forgetting Uma in a hurry.

Steele found watching Nixon enchanting. For all the flamboyant colours in the room, they dulled in comparison to Nixon’s bright sparkle. Whenever Nixon caught her looking she’d look away, pretending not to be interested, but her gaze would quickly come back to that red dress and the girl in it. She was intoxicated, but not from the tequila. It was that beauty in the red dress, with gold hair and green eyes that made her feel dizzy. But she never let the thoughts of Nixon swallow the thoughts of Uma. The love of her life. No one could ever come close to Uma. She couldn’t fault Uma. In fact she’d thought Uma was too good for her at times and often doubted their relationship, but Uma would always tell her different. Her words came back to her now. ‘Don’t you ever feel like you’re less than perfect. You’re perfect to me.’ If she could cry she’d have shed a tear that day.

She looked back at Nixon again. The song by Icona Pop was coming to an end and everyone was giving it their all. Then the song changed again to another retro tune. They apparently played retro all night here. It was a heavy beat and sexually charged song called ‘I Like the Way You Move’ by some band called ‘Bodyrockers’. The gravelly voice of the lead singer kicked in and Nixon’s lime eyes stared at her. Steele didn’t take her eyes away from Nixon this time. It was like their gazes were locked by some invisible key and no matter how much she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. The lyrics resounded so much and they brought home something she just realised in that moment . . .

There’s so many things I like about youI just don’t know where to begin

I like the way you, look at me

With those beautiful eyes

I like the way you, act all surprised

I like the way you, sing along

I like the way you, always get it wrong

I like the way you, clap your hands

I like the way you, love to dance

I like the way you, put your hands up in the air

I like the way you, shake your hair

I like the way you, like to touch

I like the way you, stare so much

But most of all, yeah, most of all

. . . as the beat and chorus kicked in and everyone, including Nixon, started jumping in the air full throttle . . .

I like the way you move!

. . . that she liked Nixon. Not in that friendly, acquaintance, work associate way. But in the girl likes girl, I think you’re sexy and I want you kind of way.

After the chorus the beat slowed and the gravelly voice oozed out of the speakers with the same lyrics.

I like the way you . . .

And Nixon slinked across the floor towards her. Her come to bed eyes trained on one thing. Her! Nixon took her hand and planted herself close to Steele.

“You gonna dance with me or you gonna sit there all night teasing me?” And with that Nixon yanked Steele away to the dance floor. No one was dancing as such yet. The sultry voice was still telling everyone –

I like the way you, always get it wrongI like the way you, clap your hands

I like the way you, love to dance

People just swayed, readying themselves for the beat kick, but the pair of them just stood in front of each other looking longingly at each other . . .

I like the way you, put your hands up in the air

. . . Steele felt a surge through her circuitry . . .

I like the way you, shake your hair

. . . A feeling deep down inside of her. Wriggling and squirming . . .

I like the way you, like to touch

. . . Telling her this was right. It was alright to do this . . .

I like the way you, stare so much

. . . That she was going to do this . . .

But most of all, yeah, most of all

I like the way you move!

The crowd jumped in the air as one, the beat sending them into a synchronised dance fever. All around the two figures just standing staring and doing nothing was a whirling frenzy of multicoloured bodies. The two figures were alone on the dance floor. In that moment it was just them. All sounds ceased. All their senses concentrated on the person in front of them. Time seemed to slow and stop. Steele’s neurotransmitter sparked and popped causing a sensation she was unfamiliar with. She thought she may overload and explode at any minute.

Steele felt the first touch of soft lips on hers and it didn’t feel wrong. She felt a longing pair of arms wrap around her and pull her into her body. Felt Nixon’s smaller breasts pressing against hers. She responded and wrapped her arms about Nixon’s back and touched her bare skin. There was an audible moan from Nixon and Steele felt the touch of her moist lips and hungry mouth sliding across her own, her hot darting tongue probing and searching. Steele pressed back against her, wanting her. They continued kissing deep and long throughout the song and well into the next tune, a gentle kiss igniting passion and a burning desire in both of them.

Steele kicked the door shut, the new door the landlord had just had fitted that very day. She led Nixon to the bed in the darkened room. Cool moonlight filtered through the blinds, dousing them in soft light. No words were needed. They both knew what they wanted. What they were here for. Steele watched as Nixon reached for the hem of her dress and in one swift movement pulled it over her head and tossed it to one side. Steele’s eyes adjusted to the dim light and beheld Nixon’s naked young body for the first time. Her makers had done a good job on her.

Nixon bit her lip as she cocked her head and allowed Steele’s eyes to wander over her pert breasts, small pink nipples, down the length of her taut stomach to her pubic region. Between her legs a white mound of synth flesh was small and neat. Silky smooth with just a small manicured patch of blonde public hair nestled above it.

“Your turn.” Nixon whispered with more than a hint of a naughty smile and peeled Steele’s black nylon dress off with ease, like she’d done this a thousand times with many lovers before her. Steele didn’t doubt Nixon had been to bed with as many as she’d bragged. Who won’t want to with such a sexy girl?

Now Steele was naked in front her. Naked for the first time with another woman since Uma. She quickly put that thought out of her mind. If she dwelt on it she’d not do this, and she so wanted to do this right now. She let Nixon take the lead. She felt that was the natural thing on this occasion. She liked Nixon’s eyes on her. She watched as she feasted on her pendulous breasts which would always defy gravity even when she was a hundred. That was the advantage with being factory made. No matter how old she got she’d always look the same. Her nipples were much bigger and darker than Nixon’s, almost brown and stippled in texture like the real thing. After all, androids were originally created for human pleasure and it wouldn’t do if they couldn’t pass for the real thing.

Her stomach was muscled and lean the same as Nixon’s, only her skin was a darker shade of white. Just a hint of olive. Nixon’s eyes wandered to her mound and she could tell by her face that she was pleased. Steele didn’t have any public hair like she did. Steele’s mound was smooth and pristine. Darker in shade but non-the-less inviting.

Nixon clasped her hands onto Steele’s firm ass and pulled her nearer. Nixon’s mouth took hers, pink lips against her red ones, demanding she do as she was told. Steele gave in to those demands and scooped Nixon into her arms without breaking the kiss. She laid her on the bed and moulded herself on top of her. Their warm bodies pressed against each other, primed and ready.

“You first.” Nixon said lightly and nibbled on Steele’s earlobe. With a deft shove, Nixon moved Steele onto her back and slid a leg over her.

Steele felt the wispy softness of her lover’s public hair brush against her thigh as she continued to climb over and onto her. Now on all fours Steele watched Nixon above her. Her small breasts hung down in front of her face and she reached to touch one. They were soft and easily kneaded in Steele’s hand. Nixon leaned and kissed her again then worked her way around her neck to her ear.

Steele sank back into the soft bed, giving herself totally to the experience of the girl astride her. Steele closed her eyes and felt the warmness of eager gentle kisses trailing their way over her collar bone to her left breast, felt the wetness of a mouth sucking, teeth nibbling, a wet tongue darting over her thimble sized nipple. She sighed, the pleasure sensors working perfectly. Then the mouth was criss-crossing her ribs, the flat soft part of her stomach and slowly down, down, towards where she wanted to be touched. Desperately wanted to feel that pleasure she couldn’t wait for. But Nixon held back from going there, teasing, caressing her inner thighs with light fingers and delicate kisses.

“Please.” Steele begged.

Nixon obeyed and licked at her. Sucked her. Nibbled her. Steele’s pleasure sensors went through the roof and she gasped loudly. She needed more and she let Nixon know it.

Nixon lifted her head and watched Steele’s reaction as she cupped her in her hand, her fingers now doing the work her tongue had.

Steele took Nixon’s hand and guided her. Her gasps turned into full blown moans as Nixon’s fingers went to work, dipping in and out, hitting that spot, the sensor pad just inside her opening. This was glorious! She arched her back as Nixon’s fingers found the right place and was unable to produce any sound for a full five seconds then she let go with a mighty shriek of pleasure. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop.” She panted.

They made love for several hours more, first Nixon taking the lead, then Steele. Each lost in each other, knowing nothing else but each other’s bodies. Exploring, discovering each other for the first time. And it was android Heaven!

HARD DRIVE REBOOTING

Steele flickered into life and looked across at her new lover still powered down lying on the pillow next to her. She allowed herself a smile. Something she hadn’t really done in a long time. Her gaze fell on the photo of Uma by the bed. Her eyes lowered away from it. She thought she’d feel guilty as hell but she didn’t. She did feel something. A little remorse maybe, but nothing like the stabbing pain of total guilt she thought she’d feel when she betrayed Uma. But Uma was dead. It wasn’t betrayal, was it? And knowing Uma she’d want her to be happy again she reasoned. Please don’t hate me babe. I’ll always love you, you know that.

Nixon stirred and came to life and looked across the bed at her. They both giggled like school girls and Steele kissed her. It was gentle and kind, a different sort of kiss to the ones of the previous night. Steele caressed her, ran her hand over her smooth body. She noticed a tattoo she hadn’t noticed the night before. It was small and on the inside of her forearm, a triangle with an eye in the centre.

“Nice tatt” Steele said, running her finger over it.

“Thanks.” Nixon kissed her. Little pecking kisses on her lips, wanting again what they did last night.

A call on the vid phone interrupted them.

“Answer phone.” Steele commanded, but it kept ringing. “I keep forgetting to get this damn thing fixed.” She complained and rolled out of bed to physically answer.

A live image of Freddy ‘The Chip’ appeared on the holo screen. His face brought it all back to her. How could she have forgotten about Mia? The tequila, music, Nixon, had made her forget. If she hadn’t felt guilty about Uma, she certainly felt guilty about Mia.

In Freddy’s apartment the image he saw was that of a naked Steele, the screen cutting off just above her breasts. His face lit up. Beyond Steele he could see Nixon who had sat up in bed clutching the sheets to herself to hide her modesty. “I see it’s not just me who had a good night then.” His mouth warped in a huge grin.

“Cut the crap Freddy and tell me what you found. I’m presuming that’s why you’re vid calling me at this hour.” She folded an arm over her breasts. A token gesture considering the fact that Freddy had most definitely had his hands on them . . . the other hers . . . just recently. She knew she was too close to the screen for him to see her nakedness but you never knew with Freddy. She didn’t go to him for help with techie stuff for nothing, and if anyone could manipulate a vid phone transmission it was him. With all the fun she had been having last night she’d forgotten about Mia. That angered her and it showed in her voice. Although there was nothing she could have done to help Mia last night it still hit home that she had been enjoying herself while . . . She pushed that thought away.

In the background of her screen Steele saw Annie bring him a cup of tea. She was wearing her see through negligee and nothing else and wasn’t as concerned about someone seeing her naked. “Morning gorgeous.” Annie said to Freddy and planted a kiss on his cheek.

She still couldn’t get over the fact that Freddy had a duplicate of her. The image of what he’d been doing to her brought a twinge in her circuits. “Morning Detective Steele.” Annie said directly into the screen.

Steele ignored her. “Come on Freddy, what did you find?” Their domestic bliss was starting to annoy her. Annie sat on Freddy’s knee, draping herself around him like some strange accessory. Steele bit her lip.

“I’ve already sent you the decrypted files and I’m not a happy bunny Stephanie.” His tone changed. There was a tinge of fear in his voice. “You swear you won’t tell anyone I did this for you? Because if he finds out, I’m dead. In fact I’m thinking about leaving town for a few days.”

Steele ended the call without a thanks, brought up a holo computer she kept as a backup as she perched herself on the bottom edge of the bed. Nixon crawled up to look over her shoulder. What they saw shocked them both.

Nixon put a hand to her mouth. “All of those girls.” She gasped. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Where’s that picture Mia drew?” Steele fumbled in her coat pocket and found the folded piece of paper. Placing it beside the computer screen it was evident this was the same man. “Got you now.”

“It’s mayor Leonard!” Nixon said, still not believing what she was seeing.

“Leon. Short for Leonard! Mia recognised him from the photo when she hacked my file.”

Steele rushed to get dressed. Nixon did the same.

“We need to tell the chief. Show him this.”

“No.” Steele was adamant.

Nixon paused with one leg inside the small amount of material which passed as a dress. “You still think the chief is dirty?”

“I can’t take the chance Rachel. The fewer people know about this the better.” She pulled on her combat pants and strapped her holster to her hip. “I’ve got him Rach. I’ve finally got him. I’ve got the evidence right here.”

“No you haven’t.” Nixon was staring at the computer screen. Steele followed her gaze and to her horror the files were being deleted.

Steele stabbed at the holo computer to try stopping the documents from not existing. “No! No! No!” There was nothing she could do but sit back and watch. Finally the screen flashed up a message.

FILES ERASED.

Then it hit her. Steele rushed to finish getting ready. “He knows I know. Hurry up. We need to get out of here right now.”

They scrambled to get ready. Steele knew that if the mayor had Mia and she was still alive then him knowing she knew about him had just brought forward her death. She tried pushing that image out of her head and to stay positive. Mia was still alive she told herself. She had to be, otherwise she’d have failed and failure was not an option. Not in her manual.