"Asleep or awake, I dream of you all the same."
It was raining outside and in truth, it had been raining for days on end. The lady screening the upcoming weather predicted no relief. Everywhere you went someone would bring it up in conversation, speculating when the skies would open back up and allow the sun to shine. But it was Fall. And Fall was always wet, saturated, and soggy. Mostly everyone reviled days like these, describing them as 'terrible' and 'depressing'. As such, the lady anchor continued her report in a monotone voice, giving no smudge of hope for all viewers – viewers such as Finn Synclair.
He drummed his fingers along the edge of the hologram pad, feeling perpetually sad. His brother, Dorian, had been on his mind for a couple of days now. He just couldn't shake him off, and even the weather report proceeding in the background as white noise began to penetrate his thoughts regarding Dorian. He murmured to himself, "I bet the damn bastard doesn't even know how wet it has been outside…all this rain. He keeps himself holed up, like a Maeve." He referenced a cinematic movie released in the year 2073, whose main character was a recluse named Maeve. "Fucking hermit. Mother must have bent over for the milkman, because Dorian didn't inherit these habits from dad."
Obviously Finn was disappointed in his brother, and for a good reason too. Dorian had bailed on his birthday party Finn had planned and organized for him. Of course, Dorian skipping over the event didn't stop the party from happening. In honesty, Finn eyed any and every excuse to throw a party. The girls and drinks and shots were worth it every time, every night. But still, it would have been nice if his younger brother could make an occasional appearance. He just didn't act normal for someone with his pedigree and money. Their family had always been wealthy. You just didn't work and labor when you had the privileges they were born into. But Dorian always chose work over play. He just didn't know how to have any fun, and it frustrated Finn to no end.
Finn brushed his thumb along the hologram catalogue, scanning over the website of a cybertech company who boasted breakthroughs in their artificial intelligence, and acclaimed how they had integrated the technology into cyber dolls. It was experimental, and controversial, but for some reason the thought brought a satisfied smile to Finn's face – like a boy who had the perfect prank in mind. He thumbed through the options of different models, briefly scanning over their assets and specs. The company didn't have a broad selection available, seeing how new and impressionable the technology was, but their options did not disappoint. He wondered if Dorian would appreciate a pleasure doll that had a body similar to his ex-wife's, or maybe he would prefer something entirely different…
His browsing paused upon one that seemed more than adequate in appearance.
Make : Corsica
Model : Cybelle
AIN# : C019.A.2076
AI – Intel ViForce Series 2000
She was a costly price. Expensive, no doubt only to distribute their products to the elite in marketing interest and audience. But money had never stopped Finn before, and it didn't seem appropriate to put a price tag on a gift meant for his brother. His smile sharpened into a wicked smirk, knowing his brother surely wouldn't mind a little companionship. If he couldn't suffer socializing with real people, then maybe he was better suited for a cyber doll. Finn didn't put much more thought into shopping around. He quickly added it to his cart and ran his card through to make the purchase.
Five days later a shipment arrived at the estate of Dorian Synclair. The delivery man cursed under his breath as the rain beat down and drenched his raincoat. But bad weather never stopped good business, of course. One would expect a cyberdoll to just walk right over the threshold and into her new home, fully functional and ready to go. But no, she came delivered, packaged up in a box much like a life-sized Barbie doll. No longer were the Three Men And A Truck days, where refrigerator sized deliveries were man-handled; lifted, pushed, shoved, humped, and tugged. These days, a small Roomba-like device hovered and glided over the ground as it supported and carried the package, all on its own. A remote-control device held by the delivery man operated the moving robot. It was an easy job. The hardest part today about anything was the inconvenience of the rain.
Dorian's doorbell rang, and when the door was finally answered after several minutes, the delivery man held out a digital pad waiting for a signature. "I wouldn't recommend leaving this box out in the rain. Says here it came from the Corsica company. Anything that comes from Corsica is expensive stuff."
After the signature was provided the man nodded his head, "Where would you like for it to go?"
"Yeahhp, that should be a good spot, nice and dry. I would just hate to just leave it out in the weather like this." He pressed a couple of buttons on the remote control and the hovering robot slowly moved itself forward into the entryway of Dorian's large foyer. When it reached the location, the bot lowered, setting the pallet upon the ground before gliding out from underneath. The delivery man stepped forward and scooped the device up from the floor like it was a briefcase. "There is a note on the transcript here, says it was a gift from a Finn Synclair. The message reads:
Because you won't come here for fun, I've sent the fun to you. Enjoy, and Happy Birthday.
"Well," The man tucked the paper away into a pocket and shrugged his shoulders, "I will be on my way." His eyes cut a glance towards the box and he tilted his head with a mused tone, "I wish I could afford one of those. Enjoy!"
The box was standing upright, made from plywood, and had the shape of a bulky rectangle. Everything seemed very crude and raw about it, until the front of the box was pried off and removed to reveal the contents of a beautifully elegant, anthropoid coffin. It was glossy white and had small writing in black letters that were positioned over the heart, which read Cybelle. Additional writing instructed the customer to press a small button which would open the coffin up with two doors splitting apart and sliding off to the side.
Lights embedded in the interior of the coffin instantly ignited, growing from a dim to a brilliant glow within two seconds, illuminating the humanlike features of a female cyberdoll. She had an angelic face, eyes closed, peacefully poised in relaxation as if she were sleeping. Her eyelashes were lush and dark, and her eyebrows were a chocolate brown the same as her hair, that fell straight with feathery bangs. Her body was fit and slim, standing five foot six inches, and clothed in a black jackie dress with heels. At her feet was a compartment that held the hardcopy of manual instructions as well as a Memory Unit Flash Card that Dorian could plug into a computer and download an app to access everything he needed to know on how to care, manage, and use his new cyberdoll.
|
|
Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
