Jake paced about in his room, his hands locked behind him. He was wearing on a brown-collared sweatshirt over a pair of ash-coloured joggers. The windows were shut close, because of the weather.
Karen and Kaycie sat on the soft mat beside his master bed. They were seated Indian style with their eyes closed; they were inactive at the moment. Jake was working new programming updates on them. The cyborgs were wirelessly connected to a big white contraption. "Sentics completed!" announced the contraption. "Yes," Jake said to himself. "B2Q, let's test them." "Rebooting the cyborgs!" came it reply. Jake walked up to them and unbuttoned their shirts to observe the blinking lights on their necks. It was green. He smiled, nodding. "Perfect." "In three, two—" Jake moved back a little, "—one. Power on." Karen and Kaycie's eyes opened, simultaneously, to meet Jake's wide smile, and cocky eyes. "Hello, Jake—" they said in unison. "Hi girls, how do you feel?" Karen looked at her hands, then gently placed them on her face. A big smile appeared on her face. "I can feel my face—" "I can smell the air," said Kaycie. "Are the salivary glands intact?" asked Jake. The girls gulped and nodded. "But it's annoying always having to swallow every second, we've been having to deal with it since you added it to our features three days ago," pointed out Karen. Kaycie nodded in agreement. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it—" "Why do we need saliva?" asked Kaycie. "Because you're trying to be humans — until the D-Day, that is." "But what do humans need saliva for, anyway?" Karen asked. Jake sighed, locking his fingers in front of him. "The saliva helps our mouths to be moistened, it lubricates ingested food, and begins the breakdown of starches." They nodded, mechanically. "It is true you don't need it, save for the mouth moistening," said Jake, "however, it makes you both more complete this way. Now, I've just upgraded you with something called 'sentics'. In this case, I'll define it to be the study of—" "We know what it means," said Karen, "you programmed us with a dictionary in our prototype, remember?" "Listen!" They nodded in humility. "In this case, it is what makes you feel things—" "I thought that was 'irritability'?" Karen cut in again. He slapped his forehead and made a fist with his hand. "Don't get on my nerves!" he exclaimed. "Define 'sentics'!" Kaycie began to speak. "Sentics refer to the study of waveforms, touch, emotion and music—" "Yes," he nodded. "Now what does these 'waveforms' entail?" Kaycie continued, "The waveform is the shape of a physical wave, such as sound, electric current or electromagnetic radiation, or its representation obtained by plotting a characteristic of the phenomenon (such as voltage) versus another variable, often time." Karen asked, "What does it mean by 'plotting a characteristic of the phenomenon versus time'?" Jake nodded with a big grin spread across each corner of his face. "Use your head, lasses, use your head!" He began to laugh in such a way that his voice echoed round the room and beyond, making the earth quiver at his ominous laughter, and what this evil scientist had in mind. It was as though the winter sky turned from white to black, and thunderstorm rattled in the sky as droplets of liquid burst down from it. The clouds formed an inauspicious, smiling face that could devour anyone of whom it found vulnerable. The girls could not but marvel at their creator. Just as they thought this animation was progressive, his phone rang and disturbed the moment, sending the droplets of rain back to the sky; the inauspiciously smiling cloud to a frown, as it retracted itself back; the cloud had a quick caprice, from black to white; Jake's ominous laughter fell to that of a cat's meow, and the room was as calm as a graveyard. "What the—" he reached for his cellphone, angrily, and almost did not pick the call when he saw the caller. "Must she call every second?" he asked to no one in particular. He cracked his voice and trimmed it to a suitably, calm one. "Hi cutee." "Jake, howdy!" from the background, Jake could tell she was on the road. "Howdy!" he replied, rolling his eyes. "It's nice of you to call, Amy, but I'm kind of busy right now on some...emm... school project—" "Oh, that's lovely! I'm on my way!" His eyes widened, "Oh–no, no, no; you shouldn't bother." "Really? Who said anything about bothering? I'm okay, mate. I just dropped at your junction, and you'll be seeing me any moment from now." He pulled the phone away from him and groaned, then said, "Oh, okay then. I'm happy you're coming." As she hung up, he threw the phone with the intention of smashing it across the room, but Karen was just too quick to catch it. He stared at her like she were the cause of his problem, as though he could devour her. He spread his hands, each fingers crooked, advancing towards Karen. He grabbed her neck and raised it up — he had a good hight. Karen could easily break free, she was well-programmed, yet she didn't, despite the pain in her neck at his grip. The doorbell rang; someone was at the door. He released his grip, leaving her to fall to her buttocks on the hard, polished ground. He, quickly, adjusted his hair and ran down for the door. Kaycie ran to help Karen up. "Sorry, sis." Karen smiled, adjusting her clothes. They both buttoned their collars to conceive the naked part of their necks. They felt their boob-tubes and smiled curiously. "So we can finally touch and feel! It's so amazing—" "I know right?!" Just then, the door flung open to reveal Jake making way for Amanda to come in. "Hi, girls," she waved, enthusiastic as always. She had a gift parcel on the crook of her left elbow.* * *
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***Howdy mates!Is it just me, or is this creepy? What in the world was that?! When I was thinking Mr. Hans was too creepy, there had to be this — what — Robot Lord?!🤣🤣🤓I hope you enjoyed this as much as I do. What is this crazy author thinking, anyway?! If you liked — I meant love — this chapter, then you'd want to do justice to it by dropping your votes and your thought-provoking comments. Thanks a million, peeps!
Saturday morning, that same day.JOCELYN spread her hands, sideways, before the moving waves of the beach. She needed to refresh her mind a little, and this was her best option. She'd come all by herself; her parents knew her well enough to understand she preferred being alone when she had emotional problems than to speak with someone about it.The wind embraced her, causing her blonde hair to fly over her shoulders away from her back. Her silk gown ran hither in the wind. The waves of the sea swooped down and chilled her tender feet. Her eyes were tightly shut, she wanted to feel every sensation of the wind. She wanted to listen only to the song it sang in her ears, she needed the cold to make her pull away from the heat she felt underneath her skin. She let her tears flow gently down her eyes, rolling down her cheeks.She had her own problems, and was happy the wind understood her, it sang songs about a pretty damsel who seemed to have everything but had n
"Bruvvers, come this way," said Nelson, rising from a sofa, after Hanson had asked to see the Time Machine. They trailed behind his white, unblemished coat, with the other robots positioned protectively. As Harry walked silently alongside the others, he marvelled at Hanson and Nelson's conversation. How such people even existed was a wonder. They passed door after door without even having to move a muscle for security check; it opened automatically. They turned into a certain passage wherefore the robots became inactive, immediately after stepping in. It was a great wonder, but none could ask why, and how such and such happened. The passage had just one room opposite them at the far end. Andy was curious as well; he really wanted to know why the robots became inactive in the passage. He raised his eyes to observe the roof over their head, but could not identify any "deactivative machine". He noticed that aside the
Thomas was seated on the waist-length balcony, refreshed by the cold wind. He stared at the clear sky trying to place a colour to it, but gave up trying, watching for birds. He was only fortunate to see one flying at the far north, few metres over a certain tree. Staring at the beautiful, uniformed houses made him sigh. As much as he told himself that he didn't miss his parents, his inner self struggled with the notion. He still felt a measure of pity for his parents' death, but then. . .he remembered Donald. The name itself gave a stab in his chest. He swung a fist against the wall where he rested his back, just adjacent to his buttocks. His head began to burn, and he struggled not to allow images of that day flow back to his head. That day when Donald stood for him. Donald was someone who aspired for big things at just that junior highschool age. As children from Oxford, they'd always dreamed of schooling in the great universi
Little Timmy cycled down the hood to the place they called their hideout, which was literally Bob's backyard. He looked both ways, then pushed his bicycle into a nearby bush after gripping hard on the break and making a quick C curve to stop. He pulled himself over the backyard's fence then landed across like Spiderman.Three boys were already there, other than Bob: Mike, Rodge and Duke. They were all seated on the grass.Bob was getting his trainers pair knotted, Mike and Rodge were playing an arm-wrestle game, while Duke appeared to be the careful spectator, though more a referee.At the moment, Rodge's arm was bending to the pressure from Mike's."Get that arm back up, Rodge, you've got this!" called Duke with a serious face.Timmy watched as perspiration formed on Rodge's forehead. His eyes watched closely as sweat lined on the folds of the forehead, then slipping down his sideburns, making its way into his singlet, and finally down the hidden parts of h
Einstein adjusted his black necktie for the third time after knotting it over and over to no avail. He cursed the stars for his folly of loosing the knot in its first place. Frustratedly, he pulled it off his neck and threw it away from him. He rolled his eyes over the hundreds of clothes in his large, German cabinet. His eyes were particular fixed on the hangers. It moved slowly, over the neatly hung clothes, till his eyes stopped on an hanger with lots of neckties. Stretching forward, he ran his hand, a little, over the ties, then reached for the hook of the hanger, pulling it out to properly observe what was hung. "I knew I should have listened to my butler about the pick of more black neckties to mixed coloured." His eyes stopped to a bow tie of just the colour he needed for the outfit. "Ah, and I thought I could avoid you for long." He raised the flap of his shirt collar up, placed the bold tie around his neck, hesitan
"I want to get something straight, you're from the future?" asked Einstein in the most comic face ever. His voice was rising, despite how he was trying to lower it. "Yes, you've got to believe me—" "And then what? Is this some kind of a joke 'cause I have something very important for my wife today, I wouldn't want to miss that. You can see she's waiting. . .you might just want to wait till we're back. Go back home—" "Please, Professor," pleaded Anderson, "there is no home. Please, believe me. I'm serious when I said I landed with the aid of a time machine. . . although not on my feet—" "Nonsense! I shan't speak with you any further. And if you press on this, I'll have to call the police on you—" "But—" "Save it," he interjected, turning against him to the taxi. "Honey, anything the matter?" asked Marić, concerned. "Nothing too serious, the child's nut!" He sl
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" came a sleep-disruptive cry over Andy's head which got him startled. Brushing his eyes, he retorted, "Dad, what was that for?!" "I'm not your father, lad, it's me — Albert Einstein the great," came the reply, with a slight chuckle. "Albert what?!" Andy threw his hand under the pillow over his head and fished out his glass case. He placed his spectacle on his nose, sluggishly. "Oh, the Time Machine—" he muttered to himself. "Get your bath, immediately, we've work to do today. I got you some clothes that could take you for a couple of days," said Einstein, pointing to a waist-length drawer. He added, "When you're done, grab a quick meal from the kitchen, Marić's in the dining. I'll be at the laboratory, just so you don't get mixed up with the apartments in this house, ask my wife to show it to you." Anderson's head was processing his words, quickly.
Day 2 in the Past; Second Hour in Time. "So tell me, what's the worst thing that has ever happened to you. . .and hand me that screwdriver over there, will you?" Andy sighed and kept his hands working on the internal wires of the robot. He stole a glance at Einstein, wondering why he broke the "official silence"; at least that's what Andy called the silence he loved to maintain during working period. The same one Harrison everly broke. For Einstein, Andy saw him as just the best person to work with, he was in every way just like him. Einstein's theme was: "Speed and accuracy." "What's the worst thing that has ever happened to you?" he asked again. Andy passed the screwdriver, slowly. As indifferently as can be, he said, "Losing my mum." Einstein asked, "Losing by divorce or death?" "Death." Without going through the common process of begging pardons, Einstein continued — eyes still untu