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Featured Author - October BA Story of the week: View past Author's of the Month |
For an instant our eyes met: my own which I know from the design specs and from the mirror are a pretty blue-flecked green and hers a cold, staring, dark brown. I’m well programmed as an observer so an instant is all I need, even with my systems at breaking point. I noted the row of dry bullet holes stitched across her digi-cam combat shirt and the frayed carbon fibre endo jutting from the shattered remains of her left arm as she raised her weapon one-handed, clumsy. Her legs did not seem to be responding properly and I had no problems at all putting a carefully aimed burst into her face now I knew she was just a combat droid. I’m no expert myself but I know enough to realize that you do need to be an expert to put these things down easily; they are tough with critical components well armoured and sure enough she continued to struggle around on the dirt as I strode over and kicked the weapon away. Still functioning but blinded by the bullet mashed remains of her plastic face and hopefully shattered optics underneath, the android-girl writhed violently as I pummelled her electronic guts a few times with the butt of my weapon. On the third or fourth blow she spasmed and relaxed to lie in a gently twitching heap. I spared a glance for her wounded companions but they posed no threat right now so I turned back to her; this might just be a lucky break for once. She seemed to be trying to talk, the lower half of her formerly handsome Hispanic features was mostly intact and her jaw worked to shape a garbled whisper with a heavy buzzing overtone. I caught the words ‘fuck doll’ and ‘rip you apart’ but I ignored her as I tore open her shirt and pulled it and her small backpack off her feebly fighting body. Under her clothes ‘Combat Bitch’ was more ‘Combat Doll’, nothing much to see but featureless coffee coloured plastic skin. No wonder she’d seemed so much more hostile than the rest when I had been wired down semi-nude in the farm, my expensive near-human-real features on unwilling display. Believe me, ‘more’ hostile that a Cartel robot interrogation is really saying something! I struggled quickly into her pants and shirt, much too large for me but I’d worry about style later, and pulled her combat boots on without socks. I needed to be on my way urgently, I had no idea who else might be in pursuit, though hopefully the bosses wouldn’t think a ‘bot like me could cause much trouble for this team… |
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