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  Chapter 3: Arakawa Portland's Apartment

  In the parking lot sat a tired old car. It was not particularly beat up, the paint was okay, and the glass was clean and clear, but you could just feel how tired it was. Its age radiated from it, like the cooling embers of a campfire.

  “This is what you drive?” Portland's tone could not be discerned, but seemed to waver between incredulity and respect.

  “It was my first car, and I take good care of it. Him, really.” Hayley's cheeks reddened at Portland's raised eyebrow. “I named him Gerald.” Hayley felt like crawling into a hole and dying. Why did she feel the need to explain everything? It's not like giving the name of her car was going to erase the embarrassment of naming her car.

  “Bad luck, naming a vessel a man's name.” Portland shrugged, as if she were stating a well-known fact, while leaving the it's your funeral part unspoken. “Anywho, you guys want to go back to my place? It is cheaper, in its way.”

  Hayley's pulse began to race wildly. Her eyes darted from Portland to Thom, hoping he would approve. Hayley had been so enthralled with Portland since she had first heard about her, and to be so quickly accepted by her was more than she had dreamed possible. Now, to be invited to her home, it was all so unbelievable. She felt like she could pass out at any moment. That's when she noticed that she had been bouncing, and she couldn't tell how long she had been doing it. She forced herself to stop, which just felt more awkward.

  Thom felt much better about moving this to a private residence, free from the interruptions and distractions of the public. “That's fine with me, if it's okay with...”

  “It is!” Hayley exploded.

  Portland smiled the least patronizing smile she had in her arsenal. “Thom, where's your car? I didn't see it when we walked out.” She stood on tip-toes, neck craned, and pivoted her head back and forth, periscoping over the lot. “Oh! There it is.” Why she put on this little act, Thom wasn't sure, at first. Only when he looked in the direction of his car did he understand what she was doing. He was parked in a row of nearly identical grey sedans. Slight variations of color and taillight design being the only individualizing marks.

  “Where's your car?” Thom retorted, somewhat lame. He knew full-well that Portland's car would stand out at a car show, let alone in a regular parking lot.

  “I walked here.” Portland beamed at him.

  Thom may not have been quick enough with the jabs, but when he got one in, he was sure it would land soundly. “I'll drive to your place, and you can ride with Hayley, since she doesn't know how to get there.” Thom smirked. Maybe it was a little uneven revenge for her messing with him, since her taunting certainly didn't portend disaster or potential bodily harm, like Hayley's ancient death-machine did, but he got so few chances to strike back at Portland, he wasn't about to let this one slip away.

  “I was going to suggest that very thing. Plus, it'll give us girls some time to get intimate without your testosterone clouding the place up.” She smirked right back at Thom, and delighted in his obvious deflation.

  Hayley was surprised by Portland's tone, she had seen Thom as a figure of authority, and it was odd to see him accepting and, lamely, returning taunts. She wondered if she should say something, but what could she say? Thom and Portland had known each other longer than Hayley had known either of them. Anything she said would sound like it was coming from an outsider, which it was. Plus, she doubted anything she said would help at all, anyway. And, too much time had passed by this point, and Thom was already approaching his car, and Portland was facing her, and she realized she was just standing there, not unlocking the car. “Um, sorry, let me get that for you.” She unlocked and held open the passenger-side door for Portland.

  Despite appearances, Hayley's car made it to Portland's apartment without failure or rapid unscheduled disassembly. It even drove pretty smoothly, and was comfortable and clean. Portland became genuinely impressed with the girl. The upkeep this thing surely required showed a dedication that Portland believed was largely absent from most people, these days.

  Thom was leaning against his car, waiting for them, when they arrived and parked behind him on the street. Hayley got out of the car and followed Portland as she passed Thom and approached the keypad-guarded gate to the parking lot of the apartment complex.

  “I've seen that guy driving around.” Hayley pointed at a gloss-black car that was backed into a parking spot, a mobile connector draped behind it to a post. “I can't believe he actually drives that thing around. I'd be too afraid I'd scrape on everything with that little ground clearance. And I'm sure those wheels cost more than my whole car. I'd be afraid of pot-holes and curbs.”

  “I manage to keep them away from curbs, so my only real fear is having them stolen.” Portland enjoyed the silent stare Hayley gave her. “And, yes, it scrapes on everything. There's a price to pay to be so cool.” She crooked a smile, trying to imply she was only half serious. “Maybe we'll take her out for a ride, later.” She punched in more numbers on a keypad by the door, and led them inside. Up three floors in an elevator, around a corner, and down the hall to the last door on the right, and she punched in another set of numbers to, yet another, keypad. A couple of beeps confirmed her input and the door gently swung open.

  Portland gestured inside; “I'll go last. These boots are gonna take a second.”

  Hayley stepped into the apartment and slid off her shoes, lining them up at the edge where the parquet met the teakwood flooring. “Wow, this place is nice.”

  “It does the job,” Portland's boots were scattered across the parquet. How one could scatter a pair of boots to take up so much space was unimaginable, but Portland had found a way. “It's not much, compared to the house I used to have, but I've dressed it up as well as I can.” She set herself up in the corner of the couch, tucking her legs beneath her, one arm draped across the back. Thom seated himself in the only chair, a somewhat shabby-looking armchair positioned next to the couch, about the same distance from the coffee table as the couch was. It was clear that Hayley was meant to sit on the couch with Portland.

  Hayley stood at the edge of the coffee table for a moment. She looked like she was weighing her options, but in reality, her mind was fairly blank. She was intimidated, still nervous about her inclusion into what she saw as an exclusive club. She took the opportunity to remark on the framed posters, two above the couch and three, arranged like an unintentional triptych, on the opposing wall.

  “Are you a... communist?” An innocent question, but the slight head tilt from Portland made Hayley come in quickly with a follow-up. “I didn't mean that to sound judgmental, it's just because of the Russian propaganda posters.” She, intentionally awkwardly, motioned around the room at the walls.

  With a smirk, Portland explained the posters. “I love the art style of propaganda posters. The Chinese and Vietnamese ones are my favorite, but the Russian ones are kind of the OG posters. I am not a communist, I just like the art. If you could read Cyrillic, you'd see that the one directly to your right says 'I threw a communist party, and no one showed up.'” At this, she laughed out loud, and continued, “I find political ideologies naive. Well, almost any ideology, really, not just political. They tend to require adherence to specific ideals, and inform ideas, which are then difficult to change or discard based on facts. Any system that has to shun certain facts to keep itself alive is not a system worth adhering to, far as I'm concerned. So, slightly awkward, but somewhat relevant segue, I'm not really a girl.”

  Hayley looked from Portland to Thom, then back. “I'm not sure that counts as a segue, but, do you mean, you were born male, or something? I don't think the organs you were born with determine whether you're a girl or boy, or whatever.”

  “Hmm... Then what does determine your gender?” Portland leaned back a bit, unfolding one leg and letting it hang off the couch.

  “Well, I'm not a biologist of any sort, but I'd imagine it has something to do with hormone levels, chemicals, and stuff. Som
ething that affects your behavior to appear masculine or feminine. So, I could see that without those, in a robot body, you couldn't technically be a real girl.” And Hayley instantly felt awkward, again. She hated the term “real” when applied to anyone's identity, making it sound like there was a right and wrong way to be. For her to have used it herself, just made her mad.

  “Well, I didn't mean it as a matter of real or not. I meant, not a girl, not a boy, not an anything, really. That's how that was a segue. Observing the concept of gender as an ideology that disregards the grey areas. Not a grey area between one gender or another, but the grey area of whether gender actually exists outside of classification based on genitalia. That, in itself, is often conflated with masculine and feminine traits, although nothing is inherently masculine or feminine. Those are just divisions to categorize behaviors, not set-in-stone rules of those behaviors.”

  At this, Hayley was genuinely confused. “But, you were a girl when you got this body, right? So aren't you still a girl, even if you got a different body?”

  “I was a girl when I got this body. And, for a while, I was a girl in this body. When I saw myself in my head, I was a girl. Then, after a while, that feeling of gender faded. One day, I sort of woke up, and I realized I wasn't a girl anymore. Then, I wondered if I had ever really been a girl, and I wondered what that even meant. I'm sure there are others who retain some kind of gender when they do this, but I don't think I have a gender anymore, if I ever really had one to begin with. How much of me would be 'man' and how much of me would be 'woman' if I were a desktop computer? I'd guess that none of my behaviors would appear as either, and they only appear that way, now, because of the body I chose for myself.”

  Hayley nodded, doing her best to absorb this potential existential nightmare. “I've always been a girl, and I don't know how much of my life I have modeled around being a girl. That seems like a pretty big thing to lose. "

  “Is it?” Portland sat up and leaned forward. “It seems pretty insignificant to me. I didn't even notice that I didn't have a gender for, like, ever. And, you didn't know I didn't have a gender until like two minutes ago.”

  “I guess that's true. I fell into the trap of making assumptions based on your appearance, or the way you present yourself. I don't know if I should apologize or something. I didn't want to offend you.”

  Portland almost laughed again, but managed to stifle it. “I don't think I can be offended. Maybe in a different life, the old life of weak flesh, you might have been able to say something that would have triggered some kind of unreasonable emotional response, but even then, I kind of doubt it. But now, I have money and I'm about as close to immortal as a person could ever become. I recognize that I have huge advantages over the majority of the population of this planet, and that I use those advantages for purely selfish pleasure. Trying to offend me would be like throwing rocks in the ocean. I am vast and powerful, and your tiny rocks are laughable. You could insult my dead mother's genitalia, and I'd shrug it off.”

  Thom's face paled, but Hayley only giggled.

  “But, seriously, don't talk about my mom.” Portland smiled, but Hayley wasn't sure how to take it. “I still see you as a girl, though. I still see the gender that people present themselves as, I just don't see myself that way anymore. Oh, and I don't know if I need to say this, or not, but speaking of certain gender roles,” She brushed her hand against her belly, “no babies. No room for any of that junk. Also, I don't think they've ever gotten a synthetic womb to successfully house a fetus. So, unless you plan on freezing some eggs, or adopting a child, you can plan on not having children.”

  Hayley had not considered that she would lose reproduction capability. She wasn't against having a child or two, but whenever it had come up, if it ever came up—some boys didn't like to plan that far ahead—it was always some far away thing. A vague concept that never seemed to solidify in her head. As such, it never warranted more than a few seconds of thought.

  “And, of course, it costs money out the ass.” Portland was getting into the meat of the issue, and not slowing down for anything. “With my custom, designer body, it was a little over two hundred grand. Plus, you've got insurance and any other small fees and add-ons that might pop up. Are you prepared for the financial expenditure?”

  Hayley realized that she was still standing. Her feet were beginning to hurt, and she was exhausted. She took the opportunity to sit on the couch, which felt much larger than it had looked. She was, on the opposite side of the couch, far enough away from Portland that there could have been two more people her size between them.

  “Thom helped me apply for the Betterment Fund. We're waiting to hear back, but he believes I'm... what was the word?” She looked to Thom, who was happy enough to break his silence.

  “You are a 'Prime Candidate' according to the metrics these places usually employ.” He smiled, reassuringly.

  “Yes, that's it. Prime. I don't know how much that means it would cover, but I've got a decent amount stacked away, as well.”

  Portland appraised Hayley, briefly. “I can imagine they would be more than happy to harvest organs from such a young, healthy client.” She didn't sound judgmental, but it was hard to separate judgment from the words she was using. “That, alone, should cover a decent amount of the procedure. And I know at least three people, personally, that would pay a king's ransom for those amazing eyes.”

  Hayley blushed hard, which, of course, showed on her face, but it was where it didn't show that made Hayley feel uncomfortable. Not an unpleasant tingling warmth, but certainly an inappropriate amount of it, in the company of strangers, in a stranger's home. She tried to hide it, as best she could, behind more questions. “Who would pay for regular eyes, when they could have any eyes they wanted?”

  Portland laughed, gently. “Natural beauty is such a rarity, these days. And you are filled to the brim with it. Dripping with it. In fact, if it weren't so sad to imagine it wrinkling up, wilting to the decrepit end that all flesh beings achieve, I'd almost want to try to convince you to stay natural. High quality natural parts go for a premium, and you have some of the highest quality parts I've seen.”

  Thom coughed, and choked on something, although Hayley hadn't seen him eating or drinking anything. He was glaring at Portland, who just smiled and lazily stroked a length of her own hair. Hayley was both enthralled and slightly scared, like a small animal under the eye of a great predator. She had a feeling that Portland could have asked her to do just about anything right then, and she'd do it with minimal hesitation. She had never been around someone who could do that to her. It was terrifying and exhilarating.

  Hayley started to say something, but Portland was a split second faster. “You wanna go for a ride?”

  “Portland!” Thom coughed out, still having trouble clearing whatever was stuck in his throat.

  “I meant in my car, you repressed bastard.” She reveled in Thom's glare. He knew better, and so did Hayley, but at least she was willing to pretend.

  “Oh, I'd love to.” She pulled her phone out and checked the time. “I don't really have anywhere else to be for a while.”

  “Thom, would you like to join us?” Portland was milking this for all it was worth, and something about the way she said it, made Thom far too aroused. Portland's teasing was usually pretty tolerable, but when it landed as close to the mark as this, Thom had little defense, other than to run, screaming, away.

  “No, Portland. Not now, not ever.” He rose with a hrmph. “Well, it seems you two are getting along just fine, now, wouldn't you say, Hayley?” He watched her nod enthusiastically, eyes wide with excitement, and something Thom read as mostly fear, but a little something else that he would rather not think about right now. “Then, I really should be going. I have some early clients tomorrow.” He began to put his shoes on, taking just a little longer than necessary, and was relieved when the girls got up and went to put their shoes on, as well. It meant they would be out and about, and Hayley would not be
left alone in the lion's den, vulnerable to Portland's sinister plans. A voice in the back of Thom's head told him that they were coming back here after they went where ever they were going to go, and it did unsettle him a bit.

  “She'll probably get tired before all that, anyway.” Thom said out loud, although he had only meant to mouth the words.

  Hayley ignored it, perhaps thinking he was talking about something else, but Portland smacked him lightly. “Even so, Thom-boy, you know I'll have what I want, even if it's not today. I am a spoiled brat, after all.” She held the door for them, her face alight with evil pleasure. “Come, Hayley, let me show you how cool my car is.” Thom rolled his eyes and said a silent prayer for the girl's soul, but whatever was going to happen was just going to happen. That was the way of the world. Hayley had been caught in Portland's snare, and Thom, himself, was mostly to blame. Maybe he knew it all along, maybe not, but right now he certainly felt like this was the only way this could have turned out.

  “I'll call you tomorrow, Thom. Thanks for everything today. I'll pay you back, I swear.” Hayley was being dragged down the hallway by the wrist, but she was smiling wide, while Thom just stood there, outside the closed door of Portland's apartment. He sighed and dragged his feet down the hallway. Going home alone, again, Thom was less than enthusiastic, but tomorrow was another day. Maybe things would be better, then.