=================================

: | : CyberBorn : | :

: | :Wire::Module1: | :

———————————————–

start() -> code_switch

n!=DVQ1AL7

append[]

kill.process(943.21)

load.override

[Pivot]++

sort([X || X < K, X])

receive

loop(Tot)

end

==================================

“Will you listen?”  Her lips teased along the curve of my ear, sending a ripple of surplus input through my synaptic sensors.

“Always.”  My reply, though simple and concise, still emerged from my lips with all the breathless humanity of which so many thought we lacked.

We.  The Cyrum.  The culmination of centuries of cloning and robotic advancements; disposable beings with complete self-awareness and a purported inability to feel anything beyond our programming.

“Yes, yes,” she sighed, the wash of warm air down my neck raising the fine hairs and pricking hotly at nerves far removed from that landscape.  “I know you listen, Dee, but will you hear?”  The marriage of grey matter and carbonic circuits filling my skull struggled to understand.  What she, Cheyenne, my newest owner, asked of me broke laws and taboos and would likely land her in confinement and me on one of the many astroid belts far away.

I am programmed to obey.

Her fingers skittered down my spine, pressing the careful sequence that would free me of my bodysuit.  How she’d obtained the code is beyond me.  I couldn’t fathom how much it had cost.  It was a Cyrum’s protection from the exploitation of the skin trade.  Or so I was programmed to understand.

The first touch of her hand against my back forced the breath from my chest.  I twisted, looking back at her.  Her green eyes, the green of fresh grass and summer and things new and young my poetic cross-reference supplied, met mine.  A tiny subroutine wondered if she could see my mechanical irises contract and dilate.  Another recorded, as required, a steady account of my bodily functions and health.
Body temperature rising.

Skin feels. . .feels? . . . tight.

Pulse strong and throbbing in locations 8, 37, and 96.

A line of red floated across my vision.

Vitals outside accepted range, link to CyNet for . . .

The click of a syskey sent a jolt through my system and I gasped aloud.  The tingle of shutdown faded away.

“We can’t have that,” Cheyenne murmured.  The sense of her absence startled me when she moved, sliding around to meet my gaze once more.  “Dee. . . that is, unit DVQ1AL7, you will answer my questions to the fullest of your ability.  Do you understand?”

I blinked.  The absence of the shutdown sequence hummed through my body, surged with every pulse of my heart.  The AI that bloomed in my individual cells rattled incoherently.  I grabbed at the wall, the riot within my body tightening every muscle with . . .fear? Yes.  Fear.  I was afraid.

“Breathe,” she said, her voice soft and gentle.

I obeyed.  The word spawned a flood of meditation instructionals; they ghosted through my vision and I mimicked them.  I wondered if the crack of nucleii snapping into alignment was audible.

“Dee.  Did you enter this of your own free will?”  Somewhere I knew there were cam units recording this experiment.  She’d asked my permission, but with programming and overrides and subroutines of submission laid one over the other across ever system in my body I don’t know if any Cyrum could make a true decision.

I didn’t know that until now.

“Yes,” I replied.  This was for her protection and mine.

“How do you feel?”

“My body . . .,” descriptors scrolled across my right cornea, “hums like a beehive.”  It did.  The full range of my mental faculties counted the birth, developement and death of every tiny cell.  And each one sprang into existence in sync with every other, each one returned its matter to the collective whole with full knowledge it would be reborn.

“What else?”

I breathed.  Slow, steady, taking care to truly count the time between exhale and inhale.  I didn’t have to, but I did anyways.  I looked at Cheyenne and felt my pulse, born in the carfiborous cage of my chest, push and shift to glow between my thighs.

“I feel. . . awake.”  She smiled at me and my lips curved in response.

“Very good, very good.  Now. . . I would like to explore further, if you are willing?”

I noted the flecks of gold in her irises, the miniscule folds in the tissue as they dilated, revealing the dark inner workings of her pupils.  I looked at my reflection and watched myself nod.
“Yes, I consent willingly and of my own free will to pursue this course of action.”  I wanted there to be no doubt that I wanted this.

I wanted her.

=================================

: | : CyberBorn : | :

: | :Wire::Module1: | :

———————————————–

process()

next(Module2)

name() = Ciruit::Module2

run.loop(all)

end