Deanna's Surprise Pt. 01

"Let's clear out of here, then," I replied as we rose...

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. There did come the odd time when another patron came up to Reika to ask for a personal performance in one of the private booths. She was more than happy to comply. I couldn't begrudge her that; she was here to earn money. To make sure the other patrons didn't end up thinking I was trying to hog Reika to myself, I held off of making any open show of closeness. A simple glance when she looked my way, then a subtle nod towards one of the private booths, was enough to make sure she got the message. Russ didn't do anything to butt in on what was happening between us. No doubt, he was dead serious about having me eventually become Reika's and Irene's new owner, so he clearly wanted to give me every decent chance I could use to get to know my future charges.

I wasn't sure what to think about that, to be honest. Being a freed 'bot's "owner of record" wasn't the same as being a plain 'bot owner, at least as much as I came to understand the concept when I first learned of it. Yes, by the laws of certain parts of the States and elsewhere, you were seen as being no different than a normal 'bot owner. At the same time, according to Canadian law (and the laws of those places where this sort of situation was respected), you couldn't seize your "property's" personal belongings, to say anything of her earnings, for your own use. Legally, you really had no right to make use of a freed 'bot's remote control to press your own ends...

I shook my head as I considered that, sitting by the bar close to last call. I couldn't see myself doing that to Reika or Irene. Damn it all, they EARNED the right to be seen as freed robots. I respected that. Besides, if I really wanted a 'bot to obey my commands, fulfil my every desire, I could get one fresh out of the factory -- if I could AFFORD such a unit, of course. And getting a second-hand 'bot from a resale outlet meant that you risked inheriting problems, screwball programming or fouled-up commands from said 'bot's previous owners.

I certainly would enjoy having a 'bot as a personal companion. I loved the many times I purchased the services of 'bot hookers working the streets of places I had lived in during my sojourn around the world. Almost all of them had been fembots, who didn't mind the fact that I was a hermaphrodite and could do it with them as a guy as much as I could as a girl. Even the few M-'bots I've slept with were quite nice, especially after I suppressed their assertive attitudes when it came to dealing with human girls. A good screaming session or two guaranteed that, I'll tell you. I might look like a girl on first glance -- unless you catch me in the shower! -- but I can play just as rough as the boys could when pushed to the wall. The assholes who tried to gang up on Drew Keir learned that the hard way fourteen years ago.

"Hi, Russ! How're things here tonight?"

Russ, working on cleaning glasses a metre off to my right, looked up, then chuckled. "Pretty good. What brings you around?"

"Oh, just checking my handiwork, that's all!"

I glanced over to see a woman about Reika's height standing by the cash register, two metres away from me. Seeing her brownish skin made me blink as a haunting sense of recognition hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. The shoulder-length blonde hair, which seemed to me so odd to appear on a woman like this, sent my heart into my throat as it dawned on me who this person was. Seeing her eyes, as brown as pure Swiss chocolate, not to mention a finely-sculptured face that hinted at a cultural smorgasbord of ancestors, confirmed it.

She had matured a lot since I last saw her fourteen years ago, but it was her.

Her...

"Marlenn," I whispered...

I had decided this night would be the one where I would begin to determine if Deanna was indeed fit to become my new owner.

It was some time after my last stage show that I emerged from the ladies washroom to return to the bar to enjoy more of Deanna's company. Already, I was running various social analysis programs to determine the best way to convince Deanna that I wished to spend the remainder of the night with her. Her duties to the Morning Mist Training Hall would not require her personal attention until well past the coming mid-afternoon. More than adequate time for me to make my "sales pitch" and see how things would progress from there.

After analysing the matter from as many viewpoints as possible, I believed my chances at success were in the high eighty-percentile range. Unlike Cranston, Deanna was a hermaphrodite, someone who happily accepted the duality of her personal nature without question. Surely, she would appreciate what Irene and I could offer her as personal companions. Yes, my sister and I are legally considered "freed," but we also needed, wanted to serve a human in some capacity. Being declared freed didn't change that part of our beings; it would remain with Irene and I until the day we permanently went off-line. Since we are bi-gendered, an intersexual like Deanna seems the perfect owner for us.

Stepping into the main hall, I saw that Marlenn Ioanis had come to the Retreat, she then standing by the bar speaking to Russ. No doubt, Marlenn had come to look in on the other dancers working here. She was the primary maintenance technician for all of Russ' robots at the Retreat. A very good and diligent technician at that, as Irene and I had learned shortly after coming to Welland when she ran us through a thorough, detailed systems check, one my sister and I hadn't experienced since the day we left the dealer in San Francisco.

And why not?

Marlenn is a robot herself.

It was easy for Irene and I to discover Marlenn's true nature; no 'bot, not even Cecilia Galliard, is programmed well enough to completely avoid another 'bot's scrutiny. My sister and I didn't mind it, of course. No doubt, Marlenn is a free 'bot herself. Further, since there are birth records for a Marlenn Hannah Ioanis -- I had checked -- it was also easy for me to conclude that the Marlenn I knew was one of the new IP -- "Implanted Personality" -- type of robots now appearing in various hotel chains across North America.

As to what might have happened to the real Marlenn, I had no idea. I hadn't considered asking the 'bot Marlenn about it. First, it was an intrusion on the privacy of herself and her personality template, something that could come to reflect badly on Irene and I. That, I didn't want. Second, the chance was there that the 'bot Marlenn had been programmed to not casually reveal her true nature to anyone. If so, any question I might ask would not be answered. And that could also come to reflect badly on Irene and I. As I said above, I didn't desire that. Besides, Irene and I see Marlenn as our friend. If she felt it right to tell us about herself, she would make the decision.

Glancing at Deanna, I watched as she seemed to stare at Marlenn for several seconds, then she quickly turned away. Rising from the bar, she left behind money for her last soft drink, then moved to walk out. Taking note of the expression on her face, I quickly recognized the mixture of anger, sadness, pain and fear that could only arise from a human who had just encountered someone that had grievously hurt her sometime in the near past. A glance to Marlenn to confirm that she had not noted Deanna's presence, then I moved to follow.

I had to make sure Deanna was alright...

Marlenn.

God, it was like receiving a back heel kick in the gut.

Save for the fact that she was well over a decade older, she didn't truthfully look any different from when I had last really seen her up close. When I was in the hospital recovering from my aborted suicide attempt, having just learned that the knife had badly cut up both my ovaries, damaging the eggs embedded there so much that the chances of my being a mother were essentially nil. When Marlenn's parents, who were distant friends of Mama's, had brought her to the hospital to make her apologize for the words that had hurt me so badly. When the anger, shame and pain of what those words had done to me, had made ME do to myself, exploded like Mount Saint Helens with an attitude.

When I had wished that she would just die so she wouldn't pollute the human race any further with her homophobia.

I wasn't ready to see her. Not so damned soon after coming back after fourteen years spent travelling as far from Welland as I could.

I had to go.

Get away from her.

Go somewhere and think.

Go somewhere and cry...

"Deanna!"

I stopped, realizing that I had stumbled out of the Retreat, now standing on the street corner. Spinning around, I gaped on seeing Reika standing there, worry etched on her face. "Reika..." I blinked, then rubbed my eyes. "What are you...?"

"I came after you," she walked up to steady me with an arm. "Are you alright? What happened?"

What happened?

Why...?

Why?

"I..." I felt my throat choke up, then the energy in my body started to flow out of me. "Home..."

"Deanna...?"

"Home..."

"Deanna...?"

It was easy for me to conclude what Deanna might desire, even it wasn't worded as a precise command.

"Sis?"

I looked right to see Irene walk up from the parking lot behind the Retreat. "We're taking her back to her place, Irene," I informed her as I moved to guide Deanna away from the Retreat's front doors. "Get the car!" I then ordered in my "male" voice.

Irene nodded, running around the corner to get our car ready. I turned my attention back to Deanna, who was taking several deep breaths to calm herself, her hand brushing tears away from her eyes. Recalling what I had seen inside the Retreat, how Deanna had reacted to Marlenn's presence -- then calling up all the information I had on Deanna -- the most probable cause of tonight's incident became crystal clear.

Marlenn Ioanis -- the human Marlenn -- had been involved with whatever incident had befallen Deanna fourteen years ago.

In fact, it seemed most likely that Marlenn had been the principal protagonist of that incident.

No wonder Deanna wanted to get away from her.

Turning the corner to walk onto the parking lot, I remained close to Deanna as Irene backed out car out of its space, then reversed it so we could get inside without delay. Opening the door, I guided Deanna into the back seat, then moved to sit beside her. "Where do you live, Deanna?" I gently asked as Irene closed the door behind me, then moved to drive onto the street.

"I..." she blinked for a moment, then blurted out, "Fifteen Saint Andrews Avenue. It's an apartment block."

"Alright," Irene nodded as she drove down to Mill Street, then turned right to get onto Niagara. Fortunately for us, we had downloaded a detailed city map into our minds and the car's own guidance computer when we first arrived in the Rose City.

To give Deanna some time to regain some sense of emotional control before possibly confronting her neighbours, Irene decided to take the scenic route to our new friend's residence. Up Niagara Street to Woodlawn Drive, east over the old Welland Canal to Highway 406, south to the East Main Street exit, then west to Saint Andrews Avenue. As Irene drove, I held Deanna close to me, making myself an emotional rock for her to cling onto after her brief encounter with Marlenn. Fortunately for both Irene and I, our minds had developed to the point where specific mannerisms that were not "natural" to the emotional mode dominating our functions at any specific time could be called upon without much in the way of conscious thought. I did intend to tell Deanna the truth about myself; it didn't seem proper to allow her to make the same mistake Cranston had made concerning Irene and I. But humans can be emotionally very fragile at times. To create a situation where they could experience emotional pain was a direct violation of the First Law. That, I would never do.

As we passed over the bridge spanning the old canal, Deanna took a deep breath, then asked, "You're both bi-'bots, aren't you?"

I quickly suppressed the automatic jolt that question elicited from me, then sighed. Well, that hurdle had been passed...

"Yes, we are," Irene answered. I was quick to see the relieved smile cross her face via the rear-view mirror. "How did you guess, Deanna?"

"Your sister," I gave Reika's arm a tender squeeze as I relaxed my head on her shoulder. My heart was still going a million kilometres a minute thanks to seeing Marlenn, but the rest of my body was starting to come down from the adrenaline high. "She telling you to get the car sounded a little too forceful for a normal fembot. I've never met any bi-'bots -- at least I think I haven't -- before, so it was pretty much a wild-ass guess even after that." Taking another deep breath as Irene swung into the turn-off lane for the 406 southbound, I looked up into Reika's face. "Does Russ know? Is that why he came to ask me about me becoming your owner of record?"

"He does," Reika nodded, then leaned up to kiss my forehead. "Still, he confessed to us that even if we were normal fembots, he would've still come to ask you about becoming our owner, Deanna. Even if you decided never to come back to Welland again, he would've found some way to contact you and helped arrange a meeting between us. That's how much he likes and trusts you."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "I guess I'm lucky," I chuckled.

Actually, even now as I reflect on this, I'm still amazed at how valuable Russ has treated our friendship. With only the occasional postcard from me, sent from whatever far corner of the world I lived in, he had stayed true to his friendship vow of so many years ago.

Hell, if I hadn't been so emotionally tied up because of Marlenn, well...

Silence fell as Irene drove the car down the 406 to the East Main turnoff, then headed west for a couple blocks before making a left onto Saint Andrews. Seeing my apartment block, I pointed it out, then Irene stopped the car to let Reika and I off. As Irene moved to park the car, I guided Reika across the street to the main doors. We waited for Irene to catch up to us, then headed inside.

Soon enough, we were inside my apartment. It's a simple affair: living room with kitchenette, one bedroom, bathroom. It wasn't furnished very much; I had little in the way of furniture to call my own and what I did have either came with the apartment, was borrowed from Master Lily or one of her friends or had been purchased from a second-hand store. "It's cozy," Reika commented as we slipped off our shoes -- that was a habit I had acquired when I lived in Korea; no doubt, the girls felt it only proper to do that when visiting someone else's home -- then headed into the living room, relaxing on the thick wool rug that covered the space save for the area around my kitchenette.

"It serves its purpose," I admitted as a sense of relief, of safety, started to flood me. I was in my home. Two new beautiful friends -- friends I now knew who were more like me that I had first suspected meeting them on Saturday -- were currently visiting me. The cause of so much of my personal pain and self-doubt was about three kilometres west of me, still chatting it up with Russ no doubt.

I wondered what had happened to make Russ warm up again to Marlenn. Fourteen years ago, after what happened to me, he refused to have anything to do with her. Then again, fourteen years HAVE passed. No doubt, since he wasn't directly involved in what happened, Russ had decided to let bygones be bygones. I couldn't begrudge him that, could I? He was still my friend and would remain so. And clearly, given what he wanted to help arrange between Reika, Irene and I, he saw me as his friend. That mattered just as much.

"Deanna, what did Marlenn do to you?"

I jolted, surprised by Reika's question, then I stared at her. "How do you know her? Did Russ tell you something?"

She shook her head. "I was unaware of what, if any, part Marlenn had concerning whatever happened to you back in high school." As I felt my heart start to race again, Reika reached over to hold my hand in a show of comfort. "Russ hasn't spoken openly about that incident, Deanna. Neither have Tom or Jim. They haven't betrayed your trust in them, Deanna. Still, I am aware that something awful did happen to you at that time in your life. It's what prompted you to leave Welland, go across the country to attend university in Victoria, then go further still around the world. After what I just saw at the Retreat, it was easy for me to conclude Marlenn had something to do with what happened."

I stared at her, my heart slowly calming. That shouldn't have surprised me, I guess. Robots are remarkably observant when it comes to witnessing human behaviour. Atop that, they are also very discrete. "You didn't answer my first question, Reika."

"She's a robot technician now," Reika smiled apologetically at me. "Certainly one of the better ones I've dealt with. In fact, your old public school currently serves as her laboratory, home and workshop. Irene and I've been staying there while we've been working in the peninsula. She offers living space to any travelling free 'bot seeking a place to stay for a short while."

My jaw dropped as images of Marlenn acting as Victor von Frankenstein, hovering menacingly over a strapped-down, nude Reika, flashed through my mind. I had to laugh at that. Reika gave me a curious look, then I waved her down. "God, I never suspected that she'd end up doing THAT sort of thing!!" I tried to stifle back my snickers, then sighed. "Does she help out with the 'bots at the Retreat, too?"

"Yes, she does," Irene nodded. "Not to mention many other robots in Welland and Pelham."

"Really?" I stared at her, then whistled. "She must be busy."

"She is," Irene confirmed.

Silence fell as that particular item of conversation seemed to loose interest with me. Finally, realizing that I hadn't answered Reika's original question, I stood up. "C'mon," I waved my guests with me into the bedroom.

They wordlessly followed me. I nodded for them to sit on my bed -- fortunately, it's double-sized, so all three of us could fit onto it quite comfortably -- then moved to undress. Reika and Irene remained silent as I slipped off my shirt and sports bra, then got to work on my slacks. Fortunately for me, I knew of an underwear dealer who could supply me with modified panties that gave me both comfort when it came to my dick, plus a nice fit over my vagina whenever I went through my monthly cycle -- yes, despite the fact that my ovaries are pretty much scar tissue these days, I still go through THAT! As soon as I took those off, I turned to display myself to my guests.

"Beautiful!"

That was both Reika and Irene, by the way.

Hearing that made my member twitch as blood started to flow into it. Seeing that, my guests moved to touch it, their fingers feather-soft on its flanks, that contact making me gasp as a welcome urge started pounding my loins. I felt my heart start to hammer in my ears as jolts of passion rocked my body from head to toe. It had been a long time since I'd allowed myself to react without restraint.

Then, without warning, their fingers withdrew from my dick as they stood up. Staring at them, I moved to ask what was wrong. Their only answer was to guide me into sitting on my bed. Once there, Reika turned to the pile of CDs I had beside my player. Scanning the titles, she grinned. "Good," she pulled out one, then slipped into the player.