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  “What about retribution?” Cynthia let her tone imply that she wanted Hayley to want retribution, throwing Hayley into a sticky trap. It can be difficult to manipulate a manipulator, and Cynthia was good at her job.

  Hayley didn't want to take too long to answer, so she tried to get as close to honesty as the situation permitted. “I, personally, have never had much use for retribution. I'm not a vengeance-minded person.” She paused as Truman set her coffee mug next to her. Genuine kindness or sucking up, she wasn't sure and didn't feel his motive mattered much. Cynthia almost narrowed an eye at him, though, before seeming to catch herself, and return her attention to Hayley. “There is a girl, though, who is much more likely to take retribution, regardless of my outcome.” She gave room for Cynthia to interject, but was left hanging, until Truman chimed in.

  “Portland. The dangerous one.” He was trying to be helpful, but to whom, neither of the girls in the room could be sure.

  “Yes, Portland. Your guys broke into her apartment to take me, and she will be less than forgiving, I fear.” She quickly qualified. “But, as I hear it, it seems that would be a problem only to Dave and...” She thought for a moment, struggling with the other guy's name, “Greg? It didn't sound like this was an official operation, not part of a plan, so I can't say exactly how she would take that.”

  Cynthia appeared to make a decision, letting it show on her face, which Hayley thought was unusual, and it made her all-the-more worried. “Truman. I would like to be left alone with Hayley for a while. Please join Dave in guarding the door.”

  Truman looked worried, and he hesitated, torn between obeying his boss and protecting the girl. He had wanted Cynthia to fix this, but when he realized what Cynthia might do to fix it, he wished he had not called her in the first place. Everyone would pay for this, one way or another, and he did not like to think about what the bill would say when it came to him. Finally, he acquiesced, and left the room.

  “Okay, look, I'm going to be straight with you, Hayley.” Cynthia grew stern, while keeping a good portion of her professional voice. “If I cannot find a use for you, I will have to dispose of you. I cannot have you out-and-about while our plans are churning behind the scenes. If you were to expose any part of this, it could jeopardize my entire operation. So, you see the position I have been forced into.” She paused briefly. “I will tell you the truth, and then I will gauge your usefulness, and we can go from there. Deal?”

  It did not sound like Hayley had much of a choice, and the outcome being completely up to the lunatic across the table from her was as unappealing an option as Hayley could imagine, but she was trapped, for the most part. Cynthia did not wait for a response, which only served to confirm that Hayley was not going to have much influence on her fate.

  “You are correct that our plan was not to expose any organ harvesting. Everyone knows about that, and they don't seem to care enough to do more than decry it on social media. The least useful activists of all time. The truth, that almost no one knows, is that the whole system is corrupt. The transfer of human beings into robot bodies is not to 'better' humanity, but to control them.” She paused to let that sink in, but let her disappointment show on her face, when Hayley did not react as she had expected.

  “Yeah? Forgive me for my lack of interest, but everything that has ever been has been in pursuit of control of humans. I'd bet, if you gave me enough time, I could find someone that has a solid argument for flowers in the summer being the result of a categorical enslavement of humanity by bees.” Hayley looked away, thinking, then returned her gaze to Cynthia. “Or, possibly the florist guild. That could also be reasonably argued.”

  Cynthia was nearly at a loss for words. This girl was the dumbest thing she had ever laid eyes on, and, worse, she probably wasn't wrong in the least. For a moment, nanoseconds at best, Cynthia believed it might be better for the robots to complete their takeover.

  “This is not a conspiracy theory, Hayley. This is a fact. The robot apocalypse is upon us, in a form that science fiction had failed to recognize early enough. They already run everything. The last step is to rid the world of human flesh, and their reign will be absolute.

  Who do you think runs the insurance companies that pay for everyone's transition? Human boots on the ground, digital management. Nothing in the upper management of these companies but ones and zeros, Hayley. We have the so-called 'paper trail' that we need to connect your plastic body to the robots, but we lost your plastic body when it escaped from us. No doubt guided by someone in management. The hospital buries these links, but we got their data before it could be cleaned. That's why we had to run the transfer on you in secret.”

  “Yeah, Truman said you did that. How'd that other me turn out? Portland says you have to be awake for the transfer, but she wasn't clear on why.” Hayley figured you're never too close to death to learn something new.

  “I have no idea. They were bringing it to me when it escaped. All I know is that it attacked them, putting one of them in the hospital for a while, and disappeared. We couldn't track it. It seemed like it knew enough to turn off its uplink, so we couldn't track it by satellite. It's been gone for three months or so... Don't worry. It'll be taken care of, as well, one way or another.”

  Hayley was a bit surprised to find that Cynthia believed she had undergone the transition, as well. You know, when a bunch of people state the same thing as fact, it does become a little harder to deny it, even if your own internal logic contradicts it. Hayley was starting to think there might be a plastic version of herself out there, somewhere. Then she got some interesting ideas about what could happen if she ever got out of this, and somehow tracked down her plastic self. How much like Portland would she be? She was dripping with interest in finding out the answer to that question.

  “So, I don't know how much I can help, but I would be interested in tracking down the plastic version of me, if that's something that lights your burner.” The hell? I need to stop trying out phrases on the fly. I'm bad at it.

  This was not sounding like a bad idea to Cynthia. Maybe the flesh girl could offer insight into the whereabouts of the plastic one. Cynthia had not really considered this option, but it was growing on her by the moment. “I think that might be a fine use of our time, Hayley. Of course, you would have to be under supervision, ungh... so.. uhh... we'll... ahhh... need to...” She trailed off.

  Hayley didn't understand what she was seeing, at first, but quickly turned away when it was obvious what was going on below her sight-line that was cut off from the table. She could see Cynthia's arm flexing in a distinct manner, and her face had taken a grimace, eyes shutting tightly, head lolling back against the top of the chair. Hayley was completely dropped off a cliff, and she had no idea what to do. Should she run to the door and try to escape? Call for Truman? Hang herself in the bathroom? She had never been thrust into so awkward a position in her life and she was grossly unprepared. Fortunately, a sound at one of the bay doors distracted her, and she got to turn her attention to that oddity, instead.

  It was only slightly less terrifying to see the door crumple against the slide that held it in place, a small, pale pair of hands gripped at the bottom of the door. It crumpled like it was no more than cardboard—screeching, moaning cardboard—until it was open enough to see the tall goddess who had persuaded the door to obey her will. Hayley did not recognize her, but was stunned by her appearance, and she was quite certain that she had never seen, and likely would never again see, a person so alien and so beautiful.

  Then, Portland entered from around the side of the woman. “Alright, who wants to get dead?” She would have choked, if she could. “Oh, God. Really?” She turned her head, speaking to someone out of sight. “Tabitha, knock that shit off, now.”

  Hayley almost melted in place. She stared in disbelief. They had come for her. She had not, for more than a moment, let herself hope that they would find her, considering it to be so unlikely. She smiled, and her vision blurred, and she slumped back into
her chair, not even remotely noticing that Cynthia had stopped embarrassing herself. She didn't need to pay an ounce of attention to Cynthia, anymore. Portland had come for her, and she wasn't sure how much more she could give to Portland, but she was going to dig deep and give anything she could muster, in gratitude.

  Another thing Hayley had never considered herself being was a fainter, but the woman that walked in behind Portland made Hayley feel like she needed to sit down. A compounded dismay, as she was already sitting, and could not figure out how to make her lowly human form sink any further into the chair.

  Chapter 20: Out of Focus

  Portland turned her phone to face Thom. After a few seconds of getting his bearings, he realized that he did know where that was. “Yes, that looks like the right place. If I am not mistaken, I believe that would be the warehouse the hospital uses to store the bodies.”

  “Well, that's awfully interesting, isn't it, Thom?” Portland had been feeling that Thom had been holding onto something for most of the day, but had not pushed him about it, until now. “You wouldn't have any idea why Hayley's phone is in a building used by the hospital to store blanks, would you?”

  Thom squirmed. “I didn't want to get into any crazy conspiracy theories over one odd occurrence.” He shrank slightly, like he might get hit, but was relieved when no hit came. Portland had never actually raised a hand to him, but he didn't want to be caught unawares when the occasion arose. “It was only marginally odd this morning, but I called the office and talked to Cynthia about Hayley's records, which she could not produce. When I arrived to check them for myself, she had left early. The timing was suspicious, sure, but to take that as evidence of her involvement would have been psychotic.”

  Portland flashed anger on her face, but quickly calmed her features. “I wish I could be angry at you for this, but it is one of those things that is only obvious in retrospect. Without the knowledge we have gained throughout the course of today, it would not have been the same red flag it is now. I understand that, Thom.”

  Portland stood at the head of their small mob, taking charge of the troops, for the moment, and no one questioned it, or if they did, they didn't vocalize their concern. “Four of us now have the location of Hayley's phone, thanks to the Wicked Witch. The three meatbags have been sent the link to the map. Two cars, stay in contact with text, if necessary. There's no guarantee that this will produce the flesh Hayley, which shall now be referred to as Hayley Prime.” It had just come to her, and she liked it. At least, for now. She took no small delight in seeing the scowl on the plastic girl's face. “I have promised the Poison Apple Bearer that I would give her an opportunity to reconnect with her deceased progenitor. This, I believe can only be accomplished in town, as well. So, isseki nicho, folks. The plan, in its simplified fashion, is this: Everyone goes together, we find the girl, we reunite the brat with her patermortuis, and I ride off into the sunset with the proverbial credits closing. Any questions?”

  “Wait, you're the main character? I thought I was the main character.” Dry and witless was the barren wasteland of the plastic knock-off, even if she may have had slightly more claim to main-character-status than Portland did.

  “Just because there are two of you, doesn't earn you double-points. It's my show. Besides, the two of you need the same outcome, so that's fifty-percent each toward one goal. I have twice the stake in the outcome, which is two-hundred-percent. I win.” Her math was vague and unchallengeable.

  Lydia had already begun her retreat from the cabin, which inspired Cyrus and Alan to follow her. Instead of fighting it, Portland declared her readiness to begin. “We can split up the same as when we came here, if you'd like. I enjoy Cyrus's company.” Portland's smile became a paper cut grin. Cyrus began his own calculations, trying to figure out how long it would take for him to walk back to town.

  “I believe we're all up to speed enough that you can take your boy back with you, and we can ride as the group we set out as.” Lydia did not use much force in her words, but everyone, even Portland, knew that what she said was law to the majority of the group.

  Cyrus and Thom both sighed, one in relief, one in resignation.

  But, when they arrived at the dirt road, Hayley announced that she had other plans. “I have things to discuss with Portland, so I will go with her.” Cyrus let his disappointment show on his face. He would have liked to spend more time with Hayley, but he was not going to try to survive another ride in that car. Also, he was pretty sure if he had tried, they would have stuck him in the back seat, which was barely big enough to fit a toddler, as it was.

  “Yes, and am I to walk?” Tabitha had to express it vocally, since she had been cut off from direct connectivity. With an exaggerated sigh, she knew which car she was bound for.

  Hayley made no remarks about the ride as they made their way down the destroyed dirt road and out to the paved road. She sat in silence for a good amount of time, and Portland let her. She did not feel that she had much to say to this one, and any chance that she could let the plastic girl grow on her felt like it would be a betrayal to the real Hayley.

  Night filtered into the sky, but was too weak to subdue the light, leaving pink clouds that cast the world into perpetual gloaming. Portland rolled both windows down and let the cool air carry small, cold droplets of mist into the car. It made her wish she could be more sentimental. The old body would have cherished this moment in time, air prickling the tiny hairs on her arms, petrichor mixing with the scent of the girl in the passenger seat, the joy of existence, speeding down empty roadways at dusk. The old body would have teared up and forgotten the details, remembering this time fondly, but only in abstract concepts. A beautiful picture out of focus. It was rare to feel regret in the new body, but not unheard of, for Portland.

  “So, crazy conspiracy theories, witches and life-shattering truths aside, how are you liking the new body?” She did not take her eyes off the road to address Hayley, even though she felt like doing nothing more than staring at her for a while. But she knew the one she actually felt that about was somewhere else, and not made of plastic.

  “It's almost wonderful. If it weren't for the vein of regret and anxiety running through every aspect of my existence, I'd consider it a smashing success.” Hayley had intended to speak with levity, but, as she said it, she realized how true it was, and that left her with little humor.

  “Well, that's good, at least.” Portland cracked a smile, glancing briefly at Hayley.

  “Yeah, I suppose. I do take some comfort in knowing there's some humanity left in there.” Hayley smiled back. “Still, though. Something's off.”

  “You don't say?” It was obvious her sarcasm had flown well over the head its plastic target.

  “I felt it the moment I woke up. Like something was muted inside me. Some level of...” She struggled with the concept. “Some level of me-ness is gone, or turned down too low.”

  “Also, you are an idiot. Do not forget that.”

  “Shit, I forgot you were back there.” Hayley turned in her seat to look at the doll laid out in the back seat. “So, you're not a human in a robot body. If that is true, as we believe it to be, why are you obsessed with nudity and sexual activity? And why are you such a bitch?”

  Tabitha did not answer, but continued to gaze out of the window, gently rocking her feet together, noiselessly.

  “I have a theory about that, too.” Portland glanced quickly in the rear view, then put her eyes back to the road. “Stop me if you've heard this one. After final assembly, you were activated, set into learning mode, and left to your own devices.” She paused and looked for confirmation. Tabitha gave nothing away. “So, in learning mode, you had access to the library. You could read any number of books, ranging in level from the innocence of children's to the obscenity of adult literature. I imagine you grew your vocabulary from such pursuits, but your attitude, your behavior, that's pure internet. That would explain how you are basically a walking shitposter, obsessed with people revealing
themselves, and masturbation.” She looked in the rearview and was pleased to see the gloom reflected in the witch-girl's face. “Close enough, huh?” Tabitha said nothing for the rest of the trip, and that was just fine for the other occupants. Just fine, indeed.

  “Well, Hayley, here's some info for your face. I talked to Cyrus on the way up here, and he's gooning for the hospital. That means he's gooning, specifically, for Alexander White.” Portland looked over at Hayley, who had let her face slump into boredom, or sadness, it was hard to tell. “I happen to be acquainted with Mister White. After we find the flesh version of you, I'll call him and see what he thinks about this.”

  Hayley did not appear to be completely appeased by this. “So, the flesh version is really me? And she spends time with my parents? Why did they make me and not destroy the flesh version?”

  “Well, I can't answer that last one, but yes, the flesh version is the real one, and your parents continue to love her, and no one has any idea a plastic version exists.” Portland checked the map. They were getting closer.

  “And the flesh one... She doesn't know I exist? How can that be?”

  “That sounds fairly impossible to me, but I've spent time with her, and she is making plans to undergo the transition. If she knew about you, the conversation would be completely different. How they did it without her knowing, considering my experience with it, is beyond me. Hopefully Lexi will have some answers.” Portland did not notice Hayley's questioning face.

  Chapter 21: AWOL Plastic

  Alex's phone rang and he rolled his eyes. Just because it had been a while, and talking with her had triggered some gentle nostalgia, did not mean this was a welcome return.