Keywords: MF, ScFi, adventure
Part: 1 of 1
Author: Knave of Hearts
Title: Not My Kind of Date

Not My Kind of Date
© 1993 – 2000 Knave of Hearts

"May fourteenth, twenty twelve.  Welcome Mister Lostridge."  The 
synthetic female voice confirmed the log-on process.  The 
workstation screen filled with email and scheduling windows.  He 
glanced through the news.  Nothing much was happening in the 
world.  Some college professor raising a stink about government 
hit squads, another miracle drug, some new social reform program.  
Same stuff, different day.

"Three more weeks 'till my ultimate humiliation."  Guy Lostridge 
sighed as he pushed away from his workstation.  Taking a pull 
from his coffee cup, he looked over his to-do list for the day 
but his mind kept wandering.  In a mere three weeks, Guy's cousin 
Henry was getting married back home in Arkham.

Like everything else Henry did, this wedding would be perfect.  
Guy had always been unfavorably compared to his cousin, they were 
the same age and that was where the similarity ended.  Guy was a 
moderately successful journalist, unmarried, and living in the 
Boston Metro-spire.  Henry was a prize-winning author, poet, 
employed as a full professor at Arkham's local university.  
Better looking and more popular than Guy, Henry was marrying 
Ashley Wilkes, the beautiful heiress to the Wilkes Bank fortune.  
Guy hated Henry with a loathing only the eternally second place 
could ever understand.

Taking another swallow of coffee, Guy's mind tormented him with 
visions of the upcoming wedding ceremony.  The endless questions 
from various relatives:  "Why aren't you married?"  "When are you 
moving back to Arkham?"  "Guy, you're looking a little stout.  
Have you been feeling all right?"  

And of course there would be all the comparison stories.  The 
Little League game when Guy committed an error but Henry saved 
the game.  Henry's rapid rise through academia, Guy's position as 
a local stringer for a small part of the Metro-spire network.  It 
would go on and on.  Setting his cup down, Guy remembered that 
he'd only gone home twice in the four years since graduation.  He 
lived only 30 minutes from his parent's door.

"Hey man," Fred Chu's surfer dude drawl came from across the 
cubicle partion, "When'd you say you were going down to Arkham?"  

"Three weeks.  June the fourth."

"Yeah.  Maybe you ought to check out this dude's rap."  Fred 
tossed a piece of paper over the wall.  The picture showed an 
older man, his finger pointed skyward.  "Check him out in today's 
headlines."

Guy paged quickly through the overlapping windows on his terminal 
screen.  With speed born of long practice, he keyed the news feed 
and selected the headline with the man's picture next to it.  
Double-clicking the video icon in the story, Guy sat back and 
listened to the man, Dr. Ivan Leonberg, speak passionately about 
the human rights abuses in a small Central American country.  He 
was great to watch.  Charismatic, Dr. Leonburg seemed to speak to 
every individual, regardless of the fact that his speech had been 
taped and broadcast the night before.

Fred came around the partition.  "He's all yours babe.  He's 
addressing the Conference on Human Rights on Saturday, your 
wedding isn't until Sunday."

"And I can spend the weekend at home on the office expense 
account."  Fred smiled in agreement. "Sweet."

Now that the finances had been taken care of, there was only one 
more problem.  How could he avoid his family's smothering 
interrogation?  Earlier, he'd talked about it with Fred.  Fred's 
solution was as elegant as it was unattainable.  "Go home with a 
beautiful woman and let her tell them how successful you are."  
In other words, lie to them.

Leaning back in his chair, Guy decided it was time to give this 
problem some serious thought.  What could he tell his folks?  The 
success part was true.  Guy was up for promotion and had just 
received a big productivity bonus.  He had a nice place and all 
the material trappings of a young exec.  It was the companionship 
part the was the problem.  Long hours at work, psycho-women, and 
contagious diseases limited the desirability of the singles bar 
scene.  Another option was to use an escort service, but trying 
to keep up an act with a hired partner was daunting.

"Here you go, man.  The answer to your dilemma."  Fred must've 
been reading his mind.  The warning chime heralded the arrival of 
an email advertisement.  Garrety's Replicants.

Guy laughed.  "A 'droid?  Been watching the old movie channel 
again?" He hollered back across the cubicle wall.

"Sure, man."  Fred's head popped into sight.  "Go buy a date.  
You can always return it after the wedding."

Guy read the ad.  It sounded simple enough.  Use the bonus as a 
down payment, lease a knock-out, and impress the folks.  The idea 
sounded better the more Guy thought about it.  Locking his 
station Guy decided that it was at least worth a visit to the 
showroom.

************

Garrety's showroom was gleaming white plastic.  Guy immediately 
thought of an expensive doctor's office.  The receptionist showed 
him into the selection kiosk.  For the next thirty minutes Guy 
specified his preferences in a companion.  How tall?  Hair color?  
Eye Color?  Birth marks?  Sexual habits?  Language?  The 
questions made Guy think about things that he had had never 
considered.  What kind of clothes did he want her to wear?

The questionnaire finished, Guy returned to the waiting room.  It 
wasn't long before a slick looking salesman approached.  Offering 
his carefully manicured hand (complete with diamond pinkie ring) 
the salesman started his scripted sales pitch.

"Welcome to Garrety's Mr. Lostridge.  We specialize in providing 
the discriminating customer with the exact replicant for their 
needs." He held up a printout of Guy's preferences.  "Let's see 
if we can't help you find the companion you're looking for."

Guy tried to make chit-chat as they walked into a private 
showroom.  "I'm looking for a woman to take home for a wedding."

The salesman's look said it all.  Loser.  "I'm sure we have just 
the ticket."

Referring to a small hand held digi-pad, the salesman called out 
a procession of beautiful redheads.  The androids paraded out 
through a velvet curtain.  They'd walk along a small stage, 
posing like fashion models before turning back to stand in a line 
in front of the curtained exit.  As each girl came out, the 
display in the arm of Guy's chair gave the girl's name, price, 
and how well she matched Guy's preferences.  

Mamie. . . Julia. . .  Lucy  

Guy looked longingly at them before noticing the high price of 
each android.  His bonus wouldn't even cover the down payment on 
these models.  

The salesman noticed Guy's consternation.  "Let's take a look at 
some more economical models."  Again his look was demeaning.  
"Now these," he touched his digi-pad quickly, "won't be as 
functional.  But I think that they'll fit your budget better."

The next trio looked more like mannequins.  Plastic smiles, shiny 
skin.  They looked like animated dolls.  These 'droids could 
never pass for human.  "I don't think these will do."  Guy shook 
his head in exasperation.  "Maybe I could see some of your used 
models."

"These are the used companions."  The salesman's expression 
signaled that he'd obviously given up any hopes of a decent 
commission.  He stood and tucked his pad into his jacket.  
Putting his hand on Guy's back, he steered him towards the door.

"Well.  Its just that I don't think that I could ever pass these 
off as a human in Arkham.  And the wedding's in only three 
weeks."

The salesman's eyes went hard for a split second.  Recovering 
quickly, he jumped back into his smooth sales delivery.  "Arkham?  
Did you go to Miskatonic?"  The expression changed from disdain 
to calculated interest when Guy assured him that he was indeed a 
graduate of Arkham's local college.  "I haven't been back since 
my tenth reunion.  Class of '98."

This change of topic inspired some hope in Guy.  "Class of '06."  
They shook hands as if they were meeting for the first time, 
rather than an hour ago.

"Wouldn't happen to be a Lambda?"

"No, I'm a townie.  In fact, I'm going back for my brother's 
wedding on the 4th of June."

"Ya don't say."  A few quick taps on the pad.  "Well. . . For a 
fellow grad.  Let me introduce you to Nancy Dream." The leer on 
his face made the salesman look like a fox.  "Her owner recently 
passed away and we were forced to repossess her.  But she's in 
great condition and lives up to her name in every way.".

They turned back toward the little stage.  The redhead that 
walked down the catwalk took Guy's breath away.  Her dark blue 
eyes appraised him insolently.  Everything about her said that 
Nancy was more than an off-the-shelf companion replicant.  

"Voluptuous, smart, and fully programmable.  You can give her any 
cover story you want, she's good enough to carry it off."  The 
salesman's fingers tapped commands into the pad as he spoke.  
"Take a look at the whole package."

Responding to the salesman's commands, Nancy slowly stripped.  
Her eyes stared into Guy's.  By the time she reached for her bra 
strap he was sold.  "How much?"

The figure was just under his bonus amount.  "What about clothing 
and accessories?" Guy asked.

"Included.  Just sign and she's yours to take home.  But I'll 
tell you what.  If you ever tell anyone the deal I'm making you, 
I'll deny it to your face."  His smile made it sound like he was 
letting Guy in on the biggest inside secret in the world.

Guy couldn't keep his eyes off Nancy as they rode the transport 
tube back to his apartment.  Guy had never believed the "old 
school tie" bit would ever pay off, but the salesman had cut him 
this special deal - just because they had graduated from the same 
school!

Stepping out onto the automated walkway, Guy's brain raced.  
There have to be bugs in her programming.  He looked closely at 
Nancy's face for some trace of instability, a tic or some 
mechanical blemish.  Nothing but smooth, milky white skin.    
Won't Mom and Dad be surprised.  His mind raced from topic to 
topic; feature to feature.  I never checked out her voice.  
She'll put every babe at the wedding to shame.  Guy noted with 
pride that other people turned to admire Nancy's trim form and 
beautiful features.  For the first time in his life he felt the 
pride of being envied by other men.  He took Nancy home the long 
way, reveling in every step.

Entering his apartment, Guy tossed his jacket onto the chair.  
Nancy stood in front of the couch watching him.  "Uh.  Oh yea.  
Nancy, please get me a beer from the refrigerator."  

"What should I call you, master?"  

Guy chuckled in embarrassment.  "Just Guy.  Ummm.  Yea that'll be 
fine."

Next, he'd have to program her with a background and cover story.  
But first he had to call Fred and plan what to do.  Ten minutes 
later Fred was knocking on Guy's door.  Fred brought a six pack 
and Guy ordered pizza.  Both men stared as Nancy brought them 
glasses.

"So what's her story?"  Watching Nancy, Fred missed his glass, 
spilling beer onto the table.  

"Maybe she's an astrophysicist or some kind of space shuttle 
pilot."

"Yeah.  And I'm the Pope."  Fred took a hit from his glass.  
Settling back on the couch, Fred looked thoughtful.  "Nancy, turn 
around.  Let's see that award winning cleavage."

The android stayed in the kitchen.  "Maybe she's imprinted with 
your voice." Fred said.  "Call her over."

"Nancy."  Guy smirked as he called her over.  "Sit down.  We need 
to decide what to do with you."

Nancy sat on the couch opposite Fred with just a hint of 
superiority.  

"Model," Fred offered.

"Too short.  How about secretary?  Or maybe a school teacher?"

"Come on.  I thought you wanted something glamorous."  Fred 
gestured with his slice of pizza.  "She should be something like 
a fashion designer or an architect.  You know, something 
creative."

"Yeah."  Guy swallowed.  "Nancy, can you draw?  Could you 
impersonate an architect?"

She nodded yes.  "I have access to the information required to 
perform as a structural architect."

"Good."  Guy was glad to get started.  "We'll make her from one 
of the big West Coast spires.  No one in my family's ever been 
out of Arkham."  Fred nodded.  "Nancy, take some notes."

"I am recording, Guy."

"Good.  Now.  We met right after Christmas."

"At the New Year's office party."  Fred interjected.  

They proceeded to create a background story - nothing that would 
be too preposterous, just enough to make everyone jealous.  They 
listed movies and places, likes and dislikes, even her favorite 
drink.  Over the next three hours Guy talked and talked.  Fred's 
eyes never left Nancy's chest.  

Taking a deep swallow from his beer, Guy shook his head to clear 
the cobwebs.  His throat felt dry.  "Yeah.  Umm.  We can iron out 
the details later."  He raised his glass.  "Here's to my new 
fiancee."

Fred returned the toast.  "I'd say a long courtship would be 
perfect.  In the mean time, what say we give this model a spin?"

"I don't know Fred.  I think I'd like to be alone when I try her 
out."  Guy looked more than a little embarrassed.  "You know?"

"Sure man."  He grabbed the pizza box and two beer bottles.  
"I'll leave you two love birds alone."  He pushed the door lock 
with his elbow, a lecherous grin on his face. "See you tomorrow.  
If you can walk."

The door lock re-engaged.  Alone for the first time with Nancy, 
Guy didn't know what to do.  "Well.  I suppose its a little late 
for wine and cheese."

She stood in front of him.  Her hand went to her top blouse 
button.  "Completely unnecessary."

The next two weeks flew by.  Guy couldn't believe his luck.  
Every night he heard her call, "Welcome home Honey!" from the 
kitchen.  She had cleaned the apartment, made dinner, and poured 
a beer or a glass of wine ready for his arrival.  After dinner, 
all Guy would admit was that Nancy was energetic, imaginative, 
and acrobatic.  After a week of trying to get himself invited 
into the bedroom, Fred finally gave up and consoled himself with 
a few dinners in Nancy's presence.  Guy stopped worrying about 
the wedding and started concentrating on enjoying himself.

Then it was show time.  An inland shuttle brought them to Arkham 
in less than half an hour.  As he had expected, Guy was met by 
his family.  Nancy's presence was enough to stop the initial 
onslaught of questions.  The hotel was more of a challenge.  Aunt 
Mabel started the interrogation while Grandma Dru and Great Aunt 
Sofie cornered Nancy on the other side of the room.

After what must have been an eternity, Guy broke away and met 
Nancy at the bar.

"How's it going?  I hope my family isn't giving you too rough a 
time."  Guy handed Nancy a drink.  

"I'm doing fine."  Her eyes seemed to laugh.  How do they do 
that? Guy thought to himself.

Nancy put the drink down and took Guy's arm.  "Let's dance before 
you go to the bachelor party."

The next day, Guy slept in and nursed his hangover.  Pressing his 
face against the cool shower tiles, he promised himself he'd 
never drink that much again.  The cool water made him shiver.  
He'd need to be sharp after lunch to cover Dr. Loenberg's speech 
in Atwood Hall.   Nancy had left earlier to take a walk over to 
the college with her sketch pad.  

They met for lunch in a restaurant near campus.  For the first 
time, Nancy looked a little flustered.  She was missing one 
earring and there was a dark spot on her white jacket that she 
tried to cover with her handbag.  She apologized for being late 
and quickly ordered a sandwich while dabbing the spot with some 
club soda.  Suddenly the sound of police sirens filled the air.  
A couple squad cars and an ambulance tore down the street toward 
campus.

"Somebody must have jaywalked," the waitress joked.

Guy relaxed as they waited, but Nancy kept glancing toward the 
windows.  She tensed when a couple policemen came to the hostess' 
table.  "Guy.  Get up and go to the bathroom."

"What?"

"Just do what I say.  Things are going to get interesting real 
fast and we need to start making an exit."  

Guy was surprised to find that Nancy sounded a lot more serious 
now than she did a few minutes ago.  He got up slowly and 
nonchalantly walked to the back of the restaurant.  Once in the 
restroom alcove, he looked back to find Nancy.  He saw her take 
an envelope from her handbag, leave it in her seat, and follow 
him to the back.  

One policeman stopped at the table while the other came toward 
the restrooms.  Nancy took Guy's hand.  "Run for the back door.  
Now!"

She sprinted for the small back door, half dragging Guy down the 
hallway.  They had just entered the alley when the restaurant 
exploded.  Running down the alley, Nancy easily outpaced Guy, 
even though he was much taller.  They sprinted across the 
sidewalk, heading away from the campus and their hotel.

"Down here."  Nancy dragged Guy into a stairwell.  She pushed him 
into the shadows.  "When the firemen come, we'll mix in with the 
crowd and make it back to the hotel."

"What the hell's going on?  What did you get us into?"  Guy was 
nearly hysterical but had the presence of mind to keep his voice 
down.  The firm grip she had on his shoulder made sure of that.  

"I'll explain back at the hotel.  For now, do what I tell you and 
we'll be all right.  Its not as bad as it seems."

Famous last words Guy thought. He felt the sweat break out on his 
neck, but he kept his head down and did as she said.  In a lucid 
moment, he found that it was hard to think of Nancy as a 
replicant.

Just as Nancy had said, the fire engines showed up and drew a 
crowd.  As casually as they could, Nancy and Guy climbed out of 
the stairwell and faded into the crowd.  She led him through the 
city as if she'd lived there all her life.  They took all the 
backways, alleys and side-streets that only a native could have 
known, but soon they were back at their hotel.

Guy collapsed in to the bed. Nancy drew the curtains, placing her 
handbag on the table next to the bed.  Smiling alluringly, she 
ran her fingertips along her blouse's collar.  "Only eighteen 
hours before the wedding.  Might as well enjoy'em."  She 
unbuttoned her shirt as she walked across the room.

He'd watched her plant a bomb, been chased by the cops all over 
town, and he was still entranced by her creamy white skin.  

The next morning, Guy woke with a start.  He had dreamt that the 
police were chasing him through the streets of Arkham.  Chasing 
him into his cousin's wedding where they gunned him down on the 
altar.  He stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water in 
his face.  He had intended to find out how Nancy knew so much 
about the police, explosives, and Arkham as soon as they got back 
to the room, be she had distracted him.  Now he had to get to the 
bottom of this matter.  

He walked back into the room and sat on the bed.  Propping 
himself up on some pillows, Guy took Nancy's chin in his fingers 
so that they looked each other in the eyes.  "Now you need to 
tell me what is going on."  He tried to sound like he meant 
business but it was hard to act mean and stare into her dark blue 
eyes.

Nancy took his hand a lightly held it in hers.  She sat up, the 
sheet falling to expose her perfect breasts.  "I'm a Victor Seven 
Series android.  Hunter-killers.  My specialty is seduction and 
assassination.  I was sent here to kill Dr. Loenberg."  

He tried to move but found that he couldn't break the grip she 
had on his hand.  With a pitying look, she twisted her wrist and 
sent him to the floor in agony.  While trying to hold on to 
consciousness, Guy remembered Leonberg's speech.  The doctor was 
making a big noise about government hit squads and intelligence 
activity inside the country and illegally financed death squads 
in other countries.  A Nobel prize nominee, he was a visiting 
professor at Miskatonic, one of the feathers in their cap.

Nancy stepped out of the bed.  She stood over him totally naked.  
He thought she was beautiful even as she broke his arm.  "So how 
did you end up with me.  I went to Garrety's just to find a 
companion."

"You fit the profile.  Young, lonely, desperate, and having ties 
to Arkham."  She let go of his arm but didn't move away.  "If you 
hadn't thought of coming here, I would have given you the idea.  
It was nothing personal."

Guy's mouth got dry all of a sudden.  He rubbed the circulation 
back into his hand.  "And now that I know?  What happens to me?"  

"Nothing.  I disappear and you go back to work.  Life goes on as 
usual.  No one is looking for you."  She helped him to his feet.  
Her hands started to roam over his chest and then his back.  
"Come back to bed, it's too early to be serious." 

Henry's wedding day was perfect.  Sunshine and clear blue skies.  
Everything on time, choreographed like a precision dance.  Henry 
even had police traffic control to block off the street in front 
of the church.  Guests arrived by limo like movie stars at a 
premier.  Guy and Nancy fit right in.  Getting out of the taxi, 
they got swept into the church with the rest of the people.  

Everything was going smoothly.  The bride was radiant, Henry 
handsome, even the minister looked like he had been picked from a 
GQ issue.  Sitting on the aisle, close to the front on the 
groom's side, Guy nearly jumped out his skin when a man in a dark 
suit appeared at his shoulder.  He wore wrap around sunglasses, 
the discreet ear piece indicating that they were some sort of 
heads-up display as well as stylish eyewear. 

"Excuse me, miss.. Could you come with me please?"  The man was 
quiet and professional.

Nancy quietly left the pew, going to the back of the church with 
the man.  Ignoring the stares of his family, Guy followed Nancy 
and the man to the vestibule.

Stepping through the curtain, he wasn't ready for what he saw.  
The man was propped against the baptismal font, his head turned 
at an unnatural angle.  Nancy was picking the lock on the door 
that lead to the rectory.

"Police.  They've got a good description of me."  She didn't even 
look up.  "I'm leaving town.  I suggest you go back to your seat 
before someone comes looking for you."  She opened the door 
silently.  "You don't want to get mixed up in this."

Faced with the prospect of staying and having to explain to his 
family and the police how he came to meet a suspected bomber, Guy 
followed Nancy through the passage.  A quick search yielded a hat 
and jacket she put on to disguise her hair and clothes.  Guy 
found the ignition activator for the minister's grav-car.  They 
got in the car, Nancy driving and Guy crouched into the passenger 
foot well.  

Things went wrong from the start.  A woman came out of the 
rectory office just as Nancy got into the car.  Noticing the high 
heels and shapely legs under the minister's fedora, the woman 
shouted for them to stop.  Nancy gunned the engines, making the 
turbine squeal from the sudden demand for more power.  Racing 
north on University Avenue, she ran through a red light.

Guy saw the spire of the University chapel swing past the window.  
"Hey!!  You're heading the wrong way!"  Guy tried crawling out on 
to the passenger seat but Nancy pushed him back.  "Boston is 
south of here.  You're heading north!"

"I know what I'm doing."  Nancy's voice sounded calm even as she 
drove erratically through the streets.  Sirens filled the air.  
"Some one must have found the cop.  I can imagine I must have 
spoiled dear cousin Henry's wedding."

"This is no time for jokes."

The chase continued across the Merchant district.  She drove the 
old car like a fighter jet, weaving and bobbing through traffic 
and around obstacles.  They'd had to double back twice.  Police 
cars screeched and crashed as their drivers flung them recklessly 
into Nancy's path.  They trapped her on the East Bridge, a police 
road block sealing them off from freedom.  Nancy stopped the car 
in the middle of the span.

"This is the end of the line, Guy."  She pulled a small hand gun 
from her purse.  "Tomorrow, I want you to know that I did this 
for you."

Guy had always known that androids were stronger than their size 
implied.  But he had no idea just how strong Nancy was until she 
dragged him out of the foot well and across the driver's seat.  
Jamming her hand gun under his chin, she crossed to the guard 
rail using him as a shield.

The cops froze as they saw their prey and her hostage.  She 
climbed onto the guard rail, still shielding herself with Guy's 
body.  She screwed the barrel tightly under his chin, she 
whispered  "Tell them the truth, Guy.  It will be easier."

Then she dove into the river, 150 feet below.  Before he could 
think to do anything, police grabbed Guy's arm.  Guy heard was a 
policeman say, "You're all right now, mister.  I don't think 
she'll be coming back."  

Newspaper accounts would later speculate on the identity of the 
mad bomber.  The Arkham Advertiser called it "The wildest rampage 
ever in our city streets."  Even the Boston papers compared it to 
the wild and fast days of Prohibition and rum runners.  No one 
connected the girl, the bomb, and the death of a dissident 
economics professor.  At least not in print.

Guy spent about three days in the care of the Arkham police.  He 
was interrogated daily but did as Nancy had suggested and told 
the truth.  He was soon released and returned to Boston.  It was 
just as well.  His family ostracized him, blaming his poor 
judgment for bringing and unstable woman to the largest family 
social engagement of the year.  Guy told Fred it was all for the 
best, now he would have fewer Christmas presents to buy.  

The only trouble was that Guy missed Nancy.  Sitting alone in his 
small spartan apartment, bathed in the eerie blue glow of the 
video screen, he felt bittersweet about losing her.  He told 
others that "at least now I never have to worry about getting 
garroted in my sleep."  But when he was alone he admitted to 
himself that he'd give anything, even life as a fugitive with a 
sociopathic android just to hear her voice again. 

Summer past and Boston started feeling the approach of autumn.  
Guy watched couples walk through the rain, huddled close to each 
other under umbrellas or in taxi stands as he came home from 
work.  He woke one morning, slapping the clock as the snooze 
alarm went off for the third time.  Stumbling to the shower, he 
dreaded another day in the fluorescent hell of his cubicle.  The 
water beat against his skin, slowly dragging him out of his 
drowsy muddle.  Turning off the shower, he threw open the 
curtain.  And froze.

"Welcome home, Honey!"  She handed him a towel.  Nancy's blue 
eyes seemed to laugh at him as he stood naked and dripping in the 
shower.

Here we go again, Guy thought as he watched her loosen the belt 
on her bathrobe.  Ah well, you only live once.




  
Not My Kind of Date