Companion 3000

by Evangeline Anderson

“I’d be happy to have any man at all,” Leita muttered to herself, still eyeing the extra-large, caramel-colored, medium-hairy Companion 2000 wistfully. “But I guess this is the next best thing.”

  “What are you going to do with that thing once you get tired of it?” Schneider demanded, lashing his long tufted tail in disgust. “Store it under the bed or in the closet? It can’t really love you, Leita. Or have an intelligent conversation, or share your interests, or help you fix the droids.”

  “No.” Leita sighed. “I know that, Schneider. But I can manage the droids on my own as long as I stay here to keep on top of things. And I have you for scintillating conversation.”

  “But what if it goes crazy and runs amok?” Schneider asked anxiously. “That’s a pretty big dildo you’re ordering there, Leita. It could do some serious damage if its wiring goes wrong.”

  “Don’t worry. I can’t really afford the extra large anyway—it’s over four thousand credits more than the rest put together.” Regretfully, she turned her attention to a smaller, cheaper model. For Her Pleasure was running a special on a small, vanilla, smooth-skinned Companion with blond hair, she was dutifully informed by the scrolling purple letters. If she ordered now, she would get free shipping straight from the manufacturing plant on Osiris and she could have the new Companion 2000 in her bed in under one solar month.

  Leita bit her lip. It wasn’t really what she wanted, but it was what she could afford. Besides, maybe Schneider was right—the small Companion was about her size and less likely to do damage if something went wrong. Making her decision, she placed the order and was rewarded with a confirmation number.

  One small, blond, smooth, vanilla cure for sexual frustration was currently on its way to her door. Leita just hoped she could hold out until it got to her. Those damn sexy dreams she kept having were hell on a girl’s libido.

  Pierce ducked another laser blast and dodged into the shadow of the large building to his left. Damn, when the deal went south, it went south in a hurry. ‘Course, he hadn’t expected to recognize his contact, or for that matter, to have his contact recognize him and decide he’d rather collect the bounty that was out on Pierce’s head than finish their negotiation. Shie-lu had always been an untrustworthy asshole, though Pierce had to admit for the amount of the contract on his head, he might turn his own self in—that was, if he thought he could get out of it alive. And that was looking more unlikely by the minute. Pierce returned fire, noting his light pistol was getting pretty low on charge. He was already outgunned, if he didn’t find a place to lay low pretty quick he was going to be deep fried as well.

  He glanced up at the building he was crouching by—looked like some kind of a factory. Osiris was famous for manufacturing most of the luxury goods in the galaxy, so it was probably a sensu-couch plant or a luxury hover-mobile assembly line. But what they made inside didn’t matter to Pierce, what did matter was that there would probably be lots of shadowy corners to hide in until his contact turned assassin gave up and left.

  Another laser blast passed over his head. Damn—they were getting closer. Rather than shooting back, Pierce crept quietly around the side of the huge building, letting his fingertips trail along the rough plasti-steel surface of the wall as he searched for a door in the dark Osiris night. He found one just as another blast passed over his head and jimmied the lock without too much difficulty even though he couldn’t see what he was doing. Natural mechanical aptitude, that’s what he had. Of course, using it to get into places he shouldn’t instead of in honest trade was one of the things that had gotten him into the mess he was in now.

  As he eased the door closed behind him and entered the dim interior of the plant, Pierce reflected that maybe it was time to get out of the urban areas of the galaxy and head someplace more rural—someplace with a quiet, relaxed attitude and no people to recognize him. After all, it wasn’t like he loved living in the big, dirty cities he usually found himself in. It was just that most profitable crimes took place in the city rather than in a cornfield on a snug little moon at the ass end of the galaxy. You had to go where your business took you—that was Pierce’s motto.

  There was another blast of laser fire outside but it sounded farther away this time. Good, maybe Shie-lu and his thugs had been thrown off the scent. Speaking of scent— Pierce took a whiff of one of his armpits and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He’d been running since his shuttle kissed dirt on Osiris and he hadn’t even had time for a shower. He wasn’t a guy that minded getting dirty on occasion, but it would be nice to get a chance to clean up. As soon as he got out of this, he promised himself, he was going straight to the Pleasure Baths on Bast Six where there were plenty of friendly whores and lots of opportunities to bathe with them.

  Of course, a man couldn’t settle down with a whore and lately Pierce had been thinking about that. Not that he wanted to settle down, of course, but he was getting kind of old for the life he was living right now—always on the run, always hopping from one payday to the next one step ahead of the law and only half a step ahead of the thugs who wanted his hide. It would be nice to find someplace quiet with a willing woman and just relax for a while.

  There was another blast outside and he backed up, eyeing the strange shadowy forms of the unfamiliar machinery looming around him in the darkness. The whole place had a weird, chemical smell that he didn’t like one bit. Pierce sniffed the air—vat- grown flesh—that was it. So maybe this factory wasn’t just making sensu-couches or luxury hover-mobiles.

  Most of the known galaxy’s sex toys and marital aides were also exported from Osiris. Maybe he’d stumbled into one of those places where they made cybernetic whores for the super rich. Although, how a man could stand to screw something that had grown in a vat of chemicals was beyond him. Pierce wasn’t overly picky about his women—they only had to be warm, willing and friendly—but he drew the line at artificial pussy. That was just going too far, even if a man was desperate.

  He stepped backward again and bumped into a long, rectangular box that looked a lot like a coffin. A shiver ran down his spine. He wasn’t superstitious but it didn’t seem like a good sign to find himself right beside a big-ass sarcophagus-looking thing when Shie-lu was trying to collect the bounty on his head. Something in the box seemed to rustle and he jumped back, knocking into another box with his pistol aimed at the first one. He half expected some cybernetic ghoul to rise from the shadows of the fancy coffin and tell him to prepare to meet his maker. There was nothing though—just his own harsh panting in the darkness and the sick stench of vat-grown flesh in his nose.

  Relax—stop being so damn jumpy! he lectured himself. There was nothing alive in the shadows of the factory but him and he wouldn’t be for long if he didn’t keep his head. Pierce exhaled deeply, trying to force himself to relax. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and scrubbed his palm over his rough cheeks. His mustache and goatee, which he usually liked to keep neatly trimmed, were getting ragged. If he didn’t get some alone time with a razor soon, his face would be as hairy as his chest.

  “Need a shave,” he muttered to himself, slumping against the long rectangular box behind him. “And a shower. And a woman that wants a couple of nights of hard lovin’ to take my mind off this shit.”

  “What is it that you require, Mistress?” The voice came from the box he was leaning on. Pierce jumped up and turned with his pistol pointed in the direction of the box. There was an unmistakably man-shaped figure sitting up in it, staring at him. Presumably that was who or what had done the talking.

  “Stay where you are or I’ll shoot,” he said in what he hoped was an intimidating whisper. Shouting would be better but he didn’t want Shie-lu and his thugs coming back when they heard the noise.

  “I am programmed for any and all functions. What is your sexual pleasure?” the man asked in a slightly robotic voice.

  “What the hell?” Pierce muttered, backing away from the box. Could it be that this was a cybernetic whore factory that produced man-whore
s instead of female ones? He’d never heard of such a thing but he’d been around the galaxy enough times to know anything was possible.

  “I can give you any pleasure—even your darkest and most socially unacceptable fantasy will be my pleasure to fulfill.” The cybernetic man-whore-thing continued climbing out of the box and approaching Pierce. “After all, I am a machine so you need not have any shame in divulging your most illicit fantasies.”

  “I don’t have any damn fantasies, socially unacceptable or otherwise,” Pierce growled, waving his gun at the naked chest of the thing in front of him. “Now why don’t you just get back in your little box and go back to sleep, you, uh…whatever you are.”

  “I am a Companion 2000 built with your personal pleasure in mind. Perhaps you wish to see me in the light?” the thing asked.

  “No!” Pierce almost shouted. Nothing says “here I am” like turning on the lights in the place you’re trying to hide. But it was too late—the man-whore-thing made a motion and suddenly the entire factory was blazing with brilliance.

  “Much better.” The man-whore smiled at him, showing brilliant white, perfectly even teeth in its handsome face. It was much shorter than Pierce, maybe five-seven or five-eight to his six-four and it had thick blond hair on its head and a smooth, well- developed chest. Also, its pale, perfect body was completely naked.

  “It’s not better at all,” Pierce told it angrily. “Turn off the lights, you son of a bitch!”

  “No, I think it is time we shed some light, both literally and figuratively, on your sexual shame,” the Companion 2000 said, taking a step toward him. “I am programmed to understand your needs, even the ones you fear and distrust.”

  “My needs are for you to shut up, turn off the light, and get back in your box—in that order,” Pierce growled. The laser blasts outside the building were getting closer again, by the sound of it. No doubt Shie-lu had seen the lights and was on his way back to collect Pierce or at least a large enough part of him to claim the bounty.

  “What is it you really want?” the man-whore-thing insisted. “Do you wish to weep on my shoulder or vent about the terrible day you had at work? Perhaps you need to speak to me about troublesome family members or disloyal friends. My sensitivity sensors are set on maximum and I will not offer advice or try to ‘fix’ your problems. I am perfectly content to hold you while you cry in my arms.” It stepped forward, arms outstretched with a big fake sympathetic smile on its plastic, perfect face.

  “Get the fuck away from me!” Pierce barked, circling around the naked man-whore. Damn but this thing was creepy! Behind him, the door he had used to enter the factory in the first place began to rattle on its hinges. Great, Shie-lu was here!

  “I can be masterful too, if that is what you wish,” the Companion 2000 continued babbling. “I vow not to stop my sexual attentions to you until you are completely satisfied both physically and emotionally.”

  “In here!” Pierce heard a familiar voice shout. It was Tern, Shie-lu’s right-hand man, and he was just outside the door.

  Pierce had no more time to lose arguing with the crazy cybernetic man-whore. With a muffled curse, he dove into the long, silver sarcophagus the Companion 2000 had climbed out of and pulled the lid shut behind him.

  “Where is he? I thought you said he was here?” Shie-lu’s voice, sounding angry and oily at the same time, was muffled but perfectly understandable through the thick lid of the box. Pierce held his breath—if Shie-lu found him now…

  “Hello, Mistress, what do you desire?” It was the Companion 2000 speaking in that same fruity, slightly robotic voice, like a sex therapist on mind-altering antidepressants.

  “What the fuck is this thing?” Pierce heard Tern mutter. There were similar grumbles of disgust and wonder from the other men in Shie-lu’s gang as well.

  “I am a Companion 2000. I am programmed to fulfill all your sexual desires—even the most forbidden and socially unacceptable ones,” the Companion explained. “Would you like me to service you now?”

  “Service this, bitch,” Tern said and a blast echoed outside the lined walls of the sarcophagus, followed by a burst of hoarse, trollish laughter.

  “I am a Companion 2000… I am a Companion 2000… I ammmm a Compannnnionnnn…” The Companion’s voice wound down into a meaningless blur and stopped altogether. Pierce could picture the thing sinking to the floor with a gaping hole it its chest and wondered if it bled real blood, or some factory-grown derivative that was colored with red food dye.

  “That wasn’t overly bright of you, Tern. Now it will be obvious to anyone searching for us that we’ve been here.” Shie-lu sounded pissed off, Pierce could tell because his voice was dangerously soft.

  “Sorry, boss, but it wanted to sex on me!” Tern protested.

  “It’s programmed to say that to anyone, you fool. Clean it up—or at least hide it so it isn’t found immediately.” Shie-lu sounded more pissed off than ever. “Pierce probably left this thing as a decoy and went the other direction. As we speak he is almost certainly on his way to his shuttle. Come quickly or we’ll miss him!” There was a sound of tromping feet—Shie-lu’s men weren’t going to win any prizes for gracefulness anytime soon—and the door banged shut behind them.

  Pierce waited a long breathless moment, then heaved a sigh of relief. He only wished he had been smart enough to think of leaving the Companion as a decoy as Shie-lu had surmised, but it was nice to know his old enemy thought so highly of him. Still, now that he and his gang were gone in the opposite direction, it was time to get the hell out of town. The silver sarcophagus he was currently occupying was surprisingly roomy and plush, but it wasn’t anyplace he wanted to spend vacation time in.

  He pushed casually at the lid, expecting it to open as easily as it had closed, but the thing didn’t budge. Frowning to himself, Pierce positioned himself so that both hands were braced against the satiny padding that covered the inside of the lid and pushed with all his might. Still no effect. Okay, he wasn’t claustrophobic, but this was starting to get to him.

  “What…the…fuck…?” he muttered savagely, pushing with each word. Was there some kind of latch on the outside of the padded coffin he found himself in? Had it snicked shut when he pulled down the top? Was he trapped in here forever?

  Okay, deep breath! he told himself. Don’t panic! At least the air inside the sarcophagus seemed to be as fresh as when he’d first climbed inside—that meant it must have some kind of circulating air flow. So he wouldn’t suffocate. His heart was still pounding like a piston, though. He might not be claustrophobic, but he sure didn’t like tight enclosed spaces. Oh, hell, Pierce admitted to himself, maybe he was claustrophobic after all.

  “Companion 2000, I detect elevated heart rate and oxygen consumption. Is there a problem?” The soft feminine voice in his ear nearly gave Pierce a coronary.

  “What the…who are you?” he demanded, looking around in the dark as though he could see anything. He couldn’t, of course, but the soft voice continued anyway.

  “This is the voice of your containment system as you very well know. Please explain the reason for elevated levels or I will be forced to dispense a calming agent into your air flow.”

  “What? Wait a minute—there’s been a mistake!” Pierce protested, still pushing on the lid. “I am not a Companion. I’m human and I got in here by mistake. Open the lid and let me out!”

  “Negative, Companion 2000,” the soft female voice said in his ear. “Shipment is scheduled for tomorrow. Free time is therefore suspended.”

  “I don’t want free time, I want to get out!” Pierce shouted. “Let me the fuck out!”

  “Now dispensing calming agent,” the voice said.

  Pierce took in a deep breath to shout some more and choked on the sickly sweetish scent that suddenly permeated the air. Son of a bitch—the stupid coffin had gassed him!

  “No,” his voice sounded weak, even to him. “No, let…let me out.”

  “You will be released when y
our new mistress opens the lid upon delivery,” the smug female voice of the sarcophagus informed him. “Until then, you will be kept sedated during shipment. Pleasant slumber, Companion 2000.”

  “I’m not…not a Compan…” But he lost consciousness before he could finish the word.

  Chapter 2

  “Oh, this is so not what you ordered.” Schneider stood on his hind legs, his tiny black-furred hands braced on the lip of the containment unit and stared down at the contents of Leita’s package.

  Leita bit her lip. “No,” she admitted, “It’s not. It’s…he’s…” Exactly what I wished for but couldn’t afford. “Completely different,” she finished lamely.

  Truly, the Companion 2000 lying in the long silver box, which had been delivered to her door via remote drone ship, looked nothing like the small, smooth, vanilla blond model she had ordered. Instead, what was unmistakably an extra large was occupying the box, complete with dark brown facial hair and large, knowing hands. He was at least six-foot-four if he was an inch and Leita estimated he might run as much as two hundred thirty Old Earth standard pounds, all of it rock-hard muscle. Mouthwatering.

  “Why is he dressed like that?” Schneider demanded, swishing his tufted tail. “Did you ask for the scruffy mercenary model or something?” He nodded at the tight black leather pants and the black tank top that showed off the Companion’s tanned muscular arms and hairy chest. He also had on combat boots so large they gave Leita great hopes for the size of another, as yet unrevealed, appendage.

  “I don’t know, Schneider,” she said in irritation. “I guess they have to dress him in something. Besides, I kinda like it. It gives him a…dangerous look.”

  “He looks dangerous all right,” Schneider sniffed. “Like he might jump out of that box and kill us both.” He leaned his pointed snout over the lip of the box and inhaled, then wrinkled his small black nose. “If his smell doesn’t slay us first. I don’t like to hurt your feelings, Leita, but humans don’t smell so good in the first place. And this one really stinks!”