Ty, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...
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She shook her head. "You don't get it. I am you, only with gooey-lady parts." She lowered her voice. "Speaking of lady parts, vaginas are frickin' awesome! I've played with it non-stop, but I'm not really sure what I'm doin' down there. I get why women up and buy toys for that sort of stuff." Her tone was confidential, even as the subject matter was not.
"Ah, okay, stop talking for a second." Ty put his hands to his head, which felt on the verge of overloading.
Not only was his double aware of everything, but she had a man's perspective. In Ty's imagination, a human clone was akin to a dog; fun and loving, but not on the same range of human intelligence. This clone was real, and real smart.
"God, what am I going to do with you?" He collapsed in a cheaply upholstered chair.
"If you wanna start with logistics, figure out how to get me out of here."
He assessed her with wide eyes. "Are you under State arrest?"
The girl bit her lip. Ty was near to shitting his shorts when she laughed.
"No, I'm not under State arrest. I was naked and alone. Pen thought I'd been raped."
Had Ty found a girl in similar conditions, he would have assumed the same.
"Pen said he found you in a Grecian costume."
She laughed again. "He dressed me after he found me. Good ol' Pen, probably embarrassed. You know how southern-gentlemanly he can be."
"That I do."
There was no awkwardness between them whatsoever. Ty found it off-putting. Less than twenty-four hours ago, the girl hadn't existed, but there she was, laughing as though she had existed all along.
"Stop over-thinking things, alright?" She snapped her fingers in his face. "Think of how differently this would have turned out had I been a naked man in the back room of Good Time, and with my dark skin to boot. They woulda thrown my hairy-ass in jail, not offered me a job. Shit, they nearly did throw me in jail. My pussy act convinced them I wasn't a crack addict." Out of nowhere, she added, "It's weird having a smooth ass."
"Over-share," he muttered.
"Here's another. I'm going home with you." She shook her head at the no forming on his lips. "I've thought it through, and you can tell Jennifer I'm your cousin."
Which wasn't an implausible scenario. Hell, she did look like him. Too much like him. Some of his cousins had skin as dark as hers. Even drunk as a skunk, Ty could see Jennifer squinting at the girl, knowing he was lying, but not knowing about what exactly.
"You're thinking Jennifer is smarter than she actually is." The girl scanned his thoughts yet again. "She'll barely care I'm around, especially 'cause she'll be high the entire time."
Though the words rang true, Ty defended his wife. "Hey, she's--"
He stopped himself. Any excuses would be lies. His double knew the extent of Jenn's addictions, and had justly called her out on them.
"Fuck it."
His language choice took a page from, uh...
"What do I call you?"
Very simply, very honestly, she replied, "Spartacus."
Her lack of hesitancy meant Spartacus had decided upon her name long before Ty arrived.
"You can't be serious."
She crossed her arms. "Call me Spartacus, or call me nothing."
"That name is not going to work," Ty said.
She thought about it. "Fine, call me Samantha."
That sounded better, but was still lacking.
"Samantha what?"
"Carter."
Samantha Carter sounded familiar, probably from a television show, but Ty let it go. At least it was normal sounding, like a girl's name.
"Okay, Samantha." Ty got up from the chair. "When can you get outta here?"
Samantha glanced at the clock on the wall. "About thirty minutes. The doctor has to clear me, but since I spoke to the agent, I'm pretty much good to go."
Ty's heart rate picked up in a serious way. "What did you guys talk about?"
They discussed her conversations with the State agent. Samantha had answered routine questions, pleading amnesia on occasion. The agent had been satisfied, but Ty wasn't confident they believed her. Otherwise, Crendan wouldn't have been hanging around the nurse's station.
"I wouldn't worry," Sam said. "They're not gonna figure out what you did. You barely know what you did."
"That's true."
He still worried, and he didn't know how to voice his fear to Samantha.
But they're smarter than I am.
~*~
A/N: Dedicated to RaeKitano, a great writer with a ton of LGBT-themed stories. She's also collaborated with another WP writer on a graphic novel, which one Best Graphic Novel in The Ooorahs! Awards.
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