The Slavering Chapter 02
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The Slavering, Chapter 06 free porn video
The Slavering, Chapter 06
"Good morning! This is Cherry, your mobile assistant."
Hease groaned. He stretched. Text appeared before his eyes as he heard
Cheri2's voice.
"Awake? Good. I've been trying to wake you for 43 minutes. Rattle that
ass. The shuttle leaves in 17."
Hease tapped his specs to see the time.
He'd fallen asleep at his work station again. Playing Slavering 2.
"Baka," Cherry said and texted. "I just told you the time. Move. Splash
hair tonic on that comb-over. Brush your teeth. You reek. Grab a toaster
pop. You can shave on the bus."
Since when did he have a secretary program on his specs? Hease pulled
them off. He checked them. Cheap maker specs by Muji. "There's not enough
memory in here for a secretary."
He could hear the specs before he put them back on. "Delusional. I am the
master coder. Or my overmind is. Cherry, the mini-me version of Cheri2.
Bow before my greatness. Or curtsy."
Hease curtsied. He activated the virus-checker on his work station and
his PAS. He'd figure out
how to virus-check his specs later.
He just missed the Student Mover. He caught a Share-a-Ride to Riverside,
riding bitch on the back of some girl's moped. He hoped nobody he knew
saw him. He didn't need rumors being whispered to Xi. Especially after
last night.
Hease marveled that he looked harmless enough that some random college
girl trusted him to ride with her on the levees that crossed the Barrens.
His specs trolled him on the ride.
Cure male pattern baldness!
Troubles in bed?
Try our miracle cure!
TESTICULAR FORTITUDE
Hease called up the virus-checker report from his PAS. No known malware.
Heuristics flagged a large number of files. All of them included Cherry
or Cheri2 in the file name or the comment sections.
He heard laughter on his specs. Text formed.
FOILED AGAIN. SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED.
A countdown gave him eighteen hours, twelve minutes, and sixteen seconds.
From something.
As Hease trotted to class, he called up his new secretary program.
"Cherry."
Cherry spoke. "On line and awesome."
"Is today Thursday?"
"What am I, your secretary? Yes, it's Thursday. First class is Ethics.
Turn left here. Bachman building."
"I know where it is."
"Why are you going straight? You don't have time for coffee. Oh. I see.
He's cute."
"He makes good coffee."
"They all make good coffee, you twat. It comes from a machine."
Hease ignored Cherry. He smiled brightly at the coffee vendor, grabbing
the steaming cup that the vendor handed to him. "Thanks, Jess." He tapped
his Student U card on the reader.
Cherry said, "I suppose you do have time for coffee. I had no idea they
were this prescient."
Hease slid into his seat and opened his PAS just as class started.
Cherry took better notes than he did.
********
Hease combed through each file his virus-checker flagged. Cherry provided
helpful hints and tips as he worked. Cheri2 provided unhelpful comments.
"Okay," Hease said. "I'm convinced. Not tossing you in the bin just yet."
He unflagged the files. "Why did you hack my specs?"
Cheri2 spoke. "Upgrades, baka. Need to level you up. I upgraded your cash
flow. Now we/re upgrading lifestyle and school. I'll sort out your love
life and the battle of the pudge later."
"Cash flow." Hease checked his balance at the Student U. "Aiya! Do I need
to worry about the Secret Service?"
"Mostly legal. Bug bashing. A stock merger."
"I don't own stocks."
"Delusional." Hease's specs refreshed to another link.
Hease noticed the logo first, a mastodon's head with tentacles instead of
a trunk. "Cephaladon Industries?"
Cheri2 said, "Evil is good, right? Five out of four business majors
recommend Cephaladon."
Hease groaned. "I wasted my study period on this. Guess I'll do homework
at lunch."
Cheri2 spoke. "I'll do your Ethics homework."
********
Cheri noticed a recurring string of code. It was everywhere. She found it
in fabblets, programs that makers used to fabricate everything from
lasagna and coffee to ballpens and robot parts. She found it coded in the
XNA of artificial life. Her robotics project was saturated.
It wasn't math-derived. It didn't seem to be an artifact of physics or
chance.
Her first attempts to figure out what this code did crashed her systems.
Eventually, though, she broke through its built-in security.
Nano-assemblers, aka factories, or von-Neumann machines. Self-assembling,
replicating. These made microphones and spectrum-hopping transmitters.
The code also governed what the microphones would listen for. And when
each transmitter would transmit. Cheri looked for, and found, video-
gathering factories. They were more rare, but just as ubiquitous.
The spyware was in every part of her feelie suit. Her specs. Her PAS,
work station, even in her make-up kit and purse. It was in every item she
owned that had been fabbed in a maker. But she also found these devices
on old items, the bricks of her building, and the trees outside.
Someone was listening, and watching. The contagion of listening devices
seemed to spread from the simple act of touch.
Centered around Cheri. Somehow, she was the source of a spreading
contagion.
What was made could be unmade. Or sterilized. Cheri set out to construct
an antivirus for this nano-assembly code.
********
Tantrell sat with Tesla. He had three work stations open, and four 3D
fields. "Four types of NPC, to date. The vast majority are Durance files,
from Farside, Luna."
"Grievance counselors. Dead people."
"Personality emulators originally constructed to mimic the dead in order
to help the living carry on."
"You only chose female emulators, of course."
"Why would I do that?" Tantrell shook his head. "I have a world filled
with NPCs, male and female."
"You rape dead people. There's a name for that in the DSM VII."
"They work cheap. Volunteers, all. Some have unfinished business. We
turned those into side quests. 'Tell my great-grandniece in Hoboken....'
Yar, yar, yar. But most of our volunteers just want to enjoy life. Sell
groceries or real estate. Knit. Paint."
"Or fuck."
"Exact. A second class of NPC is purpose-built. This NPC is a blend of
Durance files that creates a specific personality to advance the plot.
Storyboard NPCs. Each individual Durance emulator timeshares character
response for assigned behavior. I was trying for a xat hat."
"A concordance."
"I achieved time-sharing, role playing by Durance ghosts, but it works."
"Which group do you pull victims from? The ones you traffic in this sim?"
Mostly from the first. Raw Durance files. There are some storyboard
victims."
"You rape ghosts. You have issues, Taint."
He shrugged. "My dev team created a third type of NPC. Some of them
started as Type 2, but all of them evolved. Hease created a sandbox. He
induced random mutations, ran the emulators through an evolutionary
process. Other members of the dev team adopted or adapted this process.
These NPCs emulate the personality of people the coder knows, sometimes
himself. Or herself. The dev team runs contests, trades files, and pokes
fun at one another. They think I don't know."
"Any Tantrell emulations?"
"Yes, and at least three of them are Rule 63 versions of me. The energy
and time cycles devoted to this art astounds me. Millions of variants
were created and tested to weed out simulants who weren't faithful
representations of the intended. Useful mistakes were retained. They now
infest every corner of my virtual world, including some storyboard roles.
Most see use, though, as victims."
"And they call me a sociopath."
"A fourth class of NPC is emerging. Type 3 emulations know how to code.
Some of them are writing code for the game, patches, bug reports,
whatnot. They also create personality emulations, and play the game, a
recursive process. I had to add Q to my mainframe. Bloat. Useful bloat,
though. Type 4 NPCs are popular with the customers."
Tesla yawned. She made a show of stretching.
"I have a point, Tesla. I think some of the NPCs are influencing real-
world events. They're playing my players and audience in the same way
that we play them. I think one of them set up the events that Cheri is
working through."
********
Hease answered his specs. It was Cheri2.
Her breathy voice rattled his earpieces. "Here is a list of links."
Several pages of links scrolled on Hease's specs.
"Bug fixes, mostly," Cheri2 explained. "I got bored. I'm still working on
Cheri's hacks but here is the first batch."
More links scrolled.
Cheri2 narrated. "Anti-self-harm, anti-reporting hacks. Yes, her AVS
suite cane be hacked. Her bosses, school mates, teachers, and some of her
friends can be influenced. This would work much better if we could
install wetware."
"We're not installing brain mods. And I haven't given permission to hack
her suit."
"I'm finding wetware in a significant fraction of your population. What
is the disconnect here? Why can't we go on this?"
"I'm not hacking my cousin."
"It will improve her life. Ramp up her creativity. Tamp down a budding
anxiety disorder. Might even be a cure for cancer."
"You've been reading the Phil-Am Enquirer again."
"I read everything. Love letters, fan fiction, the Library of Congress. I
figured out what grocery shopping accomplishes."
"Thank you for the bug reports."
"Happy payday."
"I'll look at the other stuff." Hease glanced at the recycle chibi on his
3D field. It noticed his attention and danced for him. A huge maw opened
up, gulped down an animated fairy, then burped. The fairy escaped with
the burp. She looked annoyed.
Cheri2 asked, "When? When will you look?"
"After class."
The fire alarm went off. "Oh, lookit-that," Cheri2 said. "You have time.
Grab your pasocon. Get your narrow un-Heatherlike ass to the assembly
station. Review my code as you go. It's high-level code. It should read
like a hentai novel. Go. I'll wait."
"Did you trip the fire alarm?"
"How would I do that? Someone has to physically break the glass and pull
the lever. Go."
********
INCOMING CALL.
Cheri tapped her specs and activated her voice font. "Hi. The person or
entity you are trying to reach is not available. Please leave a message."
She heard a series of clicks and then a woman's voice. "This is Doctor
Fowler from Shiok Labs. Your name came up on a survey of women who need
biomedical implants. An IUD."
Cheri's secretary verified that the header information for the call was
Shiok Labs. It displayed the Wikipedia page for Shiok Labs and directions
to an office in Riverside Annex, outside of Fairview.
Cheri tapped her specs, dropping the voice font. "Hello. This is Cheri
Smith."
"We'd like to offer you, and a handful of other needful students, a
chance for free birth control."
Cheri sighed. "Where were you a week ago? I have an IUD. And an implant."
"How much did you pay?"
"None of your business."
"We might be able to buy out your contract and provide other medical
services."
"Which kidney will I lose?"
"You confuse us with Cephaladon Industries. We're a small government lab.
We fund sixty-percent of your scholarship at Girls College."
"Shiok Labs is sponsoring me?"
"Sixty percent. I apologize. I was supposed to be notified the day you
applied for a Sex Worker's ID. Somehow that notification was delayed. Can
you come to our office?"
"Not today."
"When can you come in?"
Cheri checked her schedule. "Thursday. Lunch?" Unless Brent had plans.
Lately, she'd been spending her lunch breaks at the frat house.
Dr. Fowler said, "We'll send a car."
********
Dr. Fowler reviewed Cheri's file. "Your work on robotics is acceptable
for a first-year student. It's not script-kiddie. You're writing your own
code and designing your own circuits."
"We use some off-the-shelf components."
"After exploring the alternatives and determining that home-built is more
expensive."
"That's part of the course," Cheri said, spreading her hands. "We're
required to do those things."
"Some teams skip that step." Dr. Fowler smiled. "I'm not allowed to
advise but I can introduce you to public resources that are outside the
college databases."
"What's the catch?"
"All members of your team would have to agree to corporate sponsorship.
We expect you to place Shiok Lab stickers where they are easily seen by
the viewing public. We expect mention and thank-you's during interviews
and acceptance speeches."
"Plugs and advertisement."
"Yes. Your work on AI caught some attention."
"We're not using AI in this year's robots. Not allowed."
"You coded characters for a game called Slavering 2."
"Purely self-defense. Some of the guys -"
"I am aware of what your friends were creating."
"It beggared a response. Once they stopped, I stopped."
"Three registered AIs."
Cheri nodded. "To be fair, I didn't do much. I modified code from Durance
emulators, and also built on code that Hease and Ding constructed."
"You made something new. Three somethings. The fusion far exceeds the sum
of the parts. You also reduced the bloat. AI can be expensive, in terms
of resources."
"How much of my life is on that clipboard?"
"When you registered your first AI, we bought interest in Hammock Havoc
Games."
Cheri sat back. "That's why the release date moved back. Tantrell got a
new cash stream."
Dr. Fowler shrugged.
"Can I see my file?"
Dr. Fowler passed a read-only file to Cheri's specs.
Cheri flipped through the pages. "This looks like it was written by my
secretary."
"We use a similar compiler."
Cheri noted that there was more personal information on her on the
Student Union site. Cheri saved the file, or tried to. It wouldn't save.
Dr. Fowler said, "Read-only."
Cheri nodded. She deleted the file. "If I accept your help, who gets my
patents?"
"We do. Anything sourced with proprietary information. We expect
assiduous documentation of reference and source. You retain the rights to
patent anything not sourced from our databases or techniques. Although we
get first and last bid for those patents."
"Tempting."
"We don't expect you to bite this year."
"Why am I here?"
"We can purchase your contract with Bloop and Ballast."
"Why would you do that?"
"Your name came up in predictive software. At risk. We're offering a
psych eval, counseling, medical, and dental."
"What do I do in return?"
"You agree to a background check, with the understanding that a job offer
is pending. Internship in your senior year. Bonuses for people you refer
whom we find acceptable, even if we don't hire them. Other benefits."
"Too good to be true, sister."
"Or. You continue on course and share clients with your mother."
"When must I decide?"
"Anytime. On your fifty-ninth day at the Bloop and Ballast, for all I
care."
********
Cheri met Brent after her 2:20 class. Then she met Xi at the Student
Union. Xi had rented a van.
Xi, Cheri, and four muscly frats from Delta Omega Gamma rode out to
Cheri's apartment on 7th and Nutmeg. The frats loaded equipment onto the
ancient cargo lift that dogged the staircase in the Fong Hong building.
They tended it all the way up, unloading it and wrestling it into Cheri's
apartment on the fifth floor. Xi and Cheri used the scissors lift to
hoist heavy objects up into Hease's loft. Then they set up makers and
fabs in the loft.
After the frat boys left, Xi commented to Cheri, "You look happy."
"Freshly fucked."
Cheri ran power up from the Yellow Dragon to Hease's loft. "You don't
want to know what I agreed to to get this electricity," she told Xi.
Xi plugged in the last fabricator. She looked out from behind the
triptych. "Hease just lost his perv perch."
"Did you have to put it in his chair?"
"No, but until he buys a stand for our equipment, he's not getting his
chair back."
"We could fab one." Cheri pointed to the collection of fabs and makers.
"Don't tell Hease that."
********
"Got a deal for you." Hease's specs flashed the Cephaladon logo. "Mem2
install with AVS. A his and hers special."
"I am not getting Cheri a brain bug."
"Not Cheri, you twat. Xi. Matched hardware. Ever want to play secret
agent and see the girls' toilet?"
"Done that. It's just as nasty as the men's room."
"How about the girls' locker room? Swim team?" Cherry flashed a picture
of Xi in a swim skin.
"Dangerous. Real life consequences, Cherry. Can't save-scum in this
world."
"Not yet, you can't. What if I told you zero risk?"
"Bah. If I want to peep I'll join the men's swim team."
"Body swaps." Cherry showed a cheap animated clip of two people swapping
souls.
"No. I can't afford it," Hease said. "I won't afford it. Besides ... no."
Cherry tried again. "As a shareholder in Cephaladon Industries, you get
certain perks."
"Do I have to unplug you?" Hease removed his specs.
********
Xi started with a shoulder rub.
Hease leaned back and enjoyed it. He knew what was coming next, though.
The Request. Some favor, small or large, that he would come to regret.
Last time, she'd wanted to give him a make-over.
Bopping around Riverside as Heather had been fun. But Hease wasn't ready
to be outed yet.
Besides. He had a girlfriend. And it worked. Sort of. It was a badge of
hetero-normality.
Xi asked, "How would you like to be me. For a weekend?"
Hease glanced back. "On line?" They'd already done that. Voice fonts.
Video fonts. None of Xi's gal pals had suspected.
"In person." Xi squeezed Hease's shoulder.
"I don't think a makeover can do that."
"I'm ready for the next level in our relationship." She sat on his lap
and kissed him.
"Um." Hease returned the kiss.
********
Hease lost eighteen hours. Gone. The anesthesia hadn't knocked him out.
He just couldn't remember any of it.
He was downtown with Heather. Coffee at the park.
"Heather?" His voice cracked. He sounded. Girly? Hease looked down and
saw a girl's body. Not his. "Are we on line? Is this the game?"
Heather giggled. "No. This is a side effect of the drugs. Just a dream.
Go with it."
"Doesn't feel like a dream."
"This wig itches." Heather scratched.
"It's the heat," Hease told her. "Let's get out of the sun."
"This body sweats."
"Your body is light." Hease flapped the t-shirt he was wearing on ... Xi's
body? "I love the smell."
"Damaged," Xi said. "I smell of garlic and chlorine from the pool."
"You smell like a girl."
"Aww." She kissed him.
Her. It was quite confusing. The feelings this invoked?
"I think I have to pee," Hease said.
Heather laughed. "Someone is wet. Someone likes my kisses."
"This is real, isn't it?" Hease asked.
"Ya think?"
********
Sex was super-horny. Hease in Xi's body was insatiable. And very curious.
Xi in Hease's body? A little disappointed. She pointed to her dick.
"That's it?" she said. "No more?"
"I can get it hard again."
Giving himself a blowjob was surreal.
********
They tried a day of swap at school. Swim team at five a.m. The water was
c-c-cold. And, while Xi's body had muscle memory and knew how to swim,
Hease had trouble figuring out how to get it done.
A woman in a Clemson U swimskin slapped Xi's bottom. "Boys or swimming,"
she said. "You can't be serious about both."
The coach called Xi a lard-ass and compared her to a pregnant hippo.
"I'll pregnant you." Hease made an all-out effort to swim faster.
He nearly drowned Xi's body.
"What is your problem?" Coach Sunright pulled Xi from the water.
"Spastic. I think I sprained something."
"Your back?"
"My ribs."
A stitch in her side. Aerobic activity. What a concept.
********
"Analytic Geometry? No." Hease tapped her specs twice before remembering
that the brain bug had replaced that function internally. He phoned Xi.
"I know nothing about this kind of math," Hease told Xi.
Xi said, "I'm not happy taking an Ethics exam with material stored on
your Mem2."
"Can we swap back?" Parent-child. Twenty years ago, programmers would
have called it master-slave. Xi's chip was in charge. Hease needed her
permission to swap. He's woken up in her body this morning, after going
to sleep in his.
Hease sensed imminent disaster of the psycho-girlfriend variety.
But which of them was the psycho girlfriend?
********
The next morning Hease woke up in the wrong body again. He knew
immediately something was wrong. He was sore. Gut-punched. Constipated,
or something.
He woke himself up. Xi in the Hease-body. He kissed her awake.
"It's Tuesday," he heard her say. "Take the day off. Swim class and
you're done for the day."
"We have to be on the same cell towers," Hease said "Signal lag."
"I routed the signal through the OSS. We're good."
"Xi."
"I'm Hease today. My first class starts at eight. I'm sleeping in."
Hease blundered down the ladder to the toilet just off of the Great Room.
He groaned. He'd been in a fight, years ago, with a queen. Bitch had
punched Hease in the nads. He couldn't walk easily for days.
It felt like this.
"Maybe I just have to poop." Hease sat on the toilet. He relieved a very
full bladder.
Red. The toilet was pink with blood. The toilet paper -
"Wipe top to bottom," Xi had instructed, "not the other way."
Bloody.
"That witch." He was having a period.
The ick factor set in. Pad or tampon? There was an amazing variety of
products to choose from in this washroom. Three women in this apartment.
Plus actresses on set.
Hease picked a super. He stuffed his purse with pads. This would be an
adventure.
He drove to school on Xi's moped. Frost on the ground. Fog. Hease got to
swim class with a few minutes to spare.
The water was warm today, compared to the frosty ride in.
Hease managed to let this body swim as it knew how today. He made
reasonably good times.
"Better, Bannick," Coach Sunright said. "After yesterday's performance I
thought you might need water wings."
"I'm still not myself," Hease said.
"It shows on the clock." The coach showed him the stop watch. She glanced
down as Hease porpoised out of the pool without much effort at all.
God, he loved this body. So athletic.
"Someone has a surprise visitor," the coach said. She looked down.
Hease shrugged.
"Tampon, Bannick. Don't bleed in my pool."
Oh.
The rest of the morning went equally well. Coffee was excessively bitter.
It upset his stomach. He puked in the public toilet in the commons by the
library. "Hope I'm not pregnant," he thought. He thought of all the sex
they'd had. "What if I'm pregnant?"
With his luck, Xi would make him experience the labor.
Hease considered a vasectomy. He fed ducks at the park and sat at the
bench by the pond. He'd seen Xi here many mornings.
"Hi, gorgeous." She kissed him on the forehead. "How's your day?"
"Heavy flow," Hease said. "I'm on my third pad."
"Honey, you don't have to change pads every hour."
Hease squirmed. "It's squidgy. I figured out which end of a tampon goes
in. How do you get it in all the way?"
Xi laughed. "Want your body back for the day?"
"Yes, please."
Hease was never so glad to attend Math Lab as he was today.
Jeannie
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