Deanna's Surprise Pt. 03

"It serves a city of sixty thousand people, so the population base doesn't justify more advanced gear," I finished.

He nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Has someone contacted their agent or record company?"

"Their agent's on his way up from the Big Apple right now, but she won't be in town until early tomorrow morning."

"Damn!" I spat out, then sighed. "So why tell me all this, Zak?"

"Well, you are Marlenn Ioanis' owner of record and since she's busy putting Miss Rayven back together as we speak, you have the right to know what the whole situation concerning her is. And..." here, he took a deep breath before giving me a knowing look, "...if her friends don't make it in the long term, Miss Rayven might need a new home. What would her record company do in a case like this?"

"Right," I grunted, my fingers rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Look, Zak, let me talk to Anne-Marie about this, then I'll go break the news to Raye tomorrow after Lenn gets her back on her feet. Is there any problem with that?"

"None. I'll hold off the agent until you do."

"Fair enough."

If Anne-Marie McLeod were a fembot, she'd be the typical American cheerleader model that is found in every showclub, escort service and sim brothel. She stands 168 centimetres -- that's five-foot-six in the metrically-challenged republic south of the border -- tall, though she doesn't usually bother with high heels. Her sunflower blonde hair is wavy and very soft to the touch. These days, she keeps it cut at the collars so she can stuff it into a surgical cap when she's needed in the operating theatre. Her eyes are the same shade as mine, though I often admit that on Anne-Marie's face, they look far prettier. Quite shapely, she would've been a shoe-in for the Centennial Cougars cheerleading team if she hadn't also been born with a high IQ and a desire to learn that puts even Pauline Kim to shame.

Scholastically, she was the top student in our graduating class, then took that to get her science degree magna cum laude from Queen's University in Kingston, followed by her doctorate from Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. From what I'd heard, she had her pick of any hospital in North America when it came to do her residency. She chose to come back home.

Today, she serves as one of three trauma surgeons in the emergency ward at Welland County General.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's happening with you?" I teased, standing by the reception desk near the entrance to the ICU.

Anne-Marie spun around, her jaw nearly hitting the floor as recognition flashed across her face. "Deanna!" she laughed, setting aside her patient notes before grabbing me in a bearhug, giving me a wet kiss on the lips. "What are you doing here?!"

"Came to see you," I ruffled her hair before letting her go. "Busy right now?" I glanced down at her surgical clothes.

"Somewhat," she picked up her notes, then beckoned me with a nod to a nearby office.

We walked inside, then I closed the door behind us. Glancing around, I realized that this is her personal office. Hanging on her wall were her degrees, family photos and -- to my surprise -- a portrait of me taken after I graduated from the University of Victoria ten years ago. Glancing at her, I pointed to that picture. "Mom got that from your mother," she explained before sitting down. "So what brings you here to see me on a Sunday afternoon in lieu of getting my address and number from Russ and visiting me at home?"

My eyebrows disappeared under my hair. "You'd want me to come visit you at home?"

"Yes," a knowing smile crept across her face. "And when you come, I'll make sure to dress in as little as possible so that I can ravage you right then and there. Even better, I'll be certain not to have protection and that I'm at the peak of my cycle when it happens."

I looked at her. Anne-Marie and I had dated during the last months of Grade Twelve, plus the following summer vacation before she went to Kingston and I headed off to Victoria. We had made love many times during that period, but decided against making any permanent committment to each other when we finally went our separate ways. The last time I spoke to Anne-Marie had been at Mama's funeral two years ago, when she, her mother Elaine and her boyfriend Ed Sasha had come to pass their condolences. "Anne, what happened between you and Eddie?"

"Nothing," she let out a tired sigh. "Except that compared to you, Ed didn't make the mark."

"Oh, Anne..."

"It's okay," she waved it off. "But I will say this, Dee: Russ and the guys weren't the only ones waiting for you to come back home."

I shuddered as those words sank into me, then bowed my head. "Anne, I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize," she reached over to squeeze my hand, her other hand reaching up to gently thread through my own hair. "I knew you needed time away from this place after what happened between you and Marlenn. And I knew that you'd be thrown off kilter when you did come back, especially when you found out about Marlenn and Lenn. But it doesn't mean that my feelings for you've really changed since we graduated."

"What about the girls I live with now?" I warned her.

We gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, then Anne-Marie shrugged. "You're a high-maintenance sort of person, Dee. Atop that, you've always been there for those who really needed help. Granted, if something did happen between us, I'd have to get used to having three robot lovers share a bed with us. And considering that all three of them are bi-gendered robots, not so different from yourself, I think I could get used to them. And..." she winked, smiling. "Seeing that it is you that I'm after at the end..."

Silence fell, then I leaned in. We shared a tender kiss, then pulled apart. "Let's see what happens," I winked back at her, then took a deep breath. "Anyhow, I came here to talk about three patients of yours in the ICU. Brenda Beemon, Kinsey Hilary and Monica Pascale."

Anne-Marie blinked, then sighed. Staring at her sagging shoulders, I could only wince. Had my friend's drive to be a good doctor set her on a course that could burn her out in the long run? "If this was University Hospital in Toronto -- even better, Johns Hopkins -- their chances would be pretty good. Right now, I can't begin to say what'll happen to them, especially Monica. They're very sick people."

"Did the medevac people get to them fast enough?"

"Yes, they were very fast on the mark. But that's not the whole problem, Dee."

I stared at my friend, then sighed. "Are drugs involved in this, Anne?"

Her gaze sharpened. "Why do you ask?"

"Something their 'bot bandmate said when she was brought into Lenn's lab," I replied. "'It's not their fault.' Look, Anne, if I'm out of line here, tell me and I'll shut up. But it's not hard to guess what might be going on. Popular thrash band, three records pumped out in two years' time, tours and other things to worry about. In essence, they're doing everything they humanly can to really get into the big time. With that sort of fame as their final goal, I can't begin to guess what sort of pressures those girls've been subjected to."

Anne-Marie slowly nodded. "Almost as bad as this place gets at times. And yes, drugs are a big part of this whole mess. According to Zak Miles, the memory records from Rayven showed that Brenda caused the accident. I don't have the toxicology reports back on them yet, but from what I've learned, they were all high as kites on some pretty vile stuff. Not to mention very drunk to boot."

"Damn," I hissed, resting my chin on a fist as I shook my head. "Designer drugs've gotten worse and worse over the years, eh?"

"You can say that again, Dee," Anne-Marie agreed, then a rueful chuckle escaped her before she continued. "We're trying to detox them right now. Monica needs it the most with the damage her liver's taken. If her liver gets the chance to properly heal, her chances improve considerably. We can take our time fixing the intestinal damage, but the liver comes first in this case."

"What about Kinsey and her spine? Zak told me it was a clean break."

"Like a knife."

"And Brenda?"

"She's now totally hooked on a lung-heart machine."

"Oh, man..."

"What about Rayven?"

I gave my old classmate a sad smile. "Lenn'll have her back on her feet tomorrow afternoon."

Anne-Marie closed her eyes. "Robots are very lucky in that regard, aren't they?"

"They are, indeed..."

Anne-Marie got off shift just as nightfall came, then offered to drive me to the lab so I could look in on Lenn and Rayven. Arriving there soon enough, I noticed Reika's and Irene's car parked by the main door. Knowing that both girls had to work tonight, I raced into the laboratory to see Reika on a table as I stepped in. Lenn was manning the diagnostic machine by the bed. Irene sat beside her sister, holding her hand. "Oh, damn! What happened?" I demanded, running over to gaze on Reika.

"Looks like I'll have to do some part replacing earlier than I expected, Dee," Lenn gazed assuredly at me, then glanced at someone behind me. "Oh, hi, Anne. What brings you around our neck of the woods?" she asked, turning back to gaze on the readouts.

I glanced behind me to see Anne-Marie standing there. "I came to drop your owner off before heading home and getting some sleep, Marlenn. It's been a busy couple of days at the shop, unfortunately. What's wrong with Reika?"

"Some of her secondary logic and memory solids are about to go to the big parts bin in the sky, unfortunately," Lenn sighed. "I discovered this in both her and Irene when they first came to stay with me. This shouldn't take more than an hour."

"Everything okay with you, Irene?" I asked, gazing on Reika's sister.

"I seem to be fine," she nodded. "When Reika realized that she had to see Marlenn right away, we both decided to take the night off and get it looked at tonight. At least this way, we'll be in shape for Jim's party tomorrow night. Will you be there, Doctor McLeod?"

"I never miss one of Jim's and Wendy's parties, Irene. And please, call me Anne."

Glancing deeply into Reika's eyes, I quickly noticed the lack of light within those orbs, telling me that all her systems were dormant. At least she wouldn't suffer in any way, if robots ever do suffer when some of their hardware is replaced. Glancing at Lenn, I reached over to give her shoulder a squeeze. "How're you doing, love? Nothing wrong with you."

"Not really. And before you ask, if something ever does go wrong with me, I've my own personal repair centre over yonder."

She pointed to the south-east corner of the lab, where a glass, spheroid-shape machine with a built-in diagnostic chair was sighted. When she constructed her robot daughter, Marlenn wanted to make sure that nothing at all could go wrong with her -- and if it did, she would have first class, secure and safe assistance in making her whole and healthy. Unfortunately, the unit was built only for Lenn; it couldn't be used by any other robot. "If only all 'bots could have something like this," I quipped, turning my eyes away from that device to where Rayven had been laid out last night. I then blinked on seeing an empty diagnostic bed. I glanced at Lenn. "Where's Rayven?!"

"In the nanofac unit having her epidermal tissue rebuilt," she reported. "Turns out, my estimate on her overall repair time was something of an exaggeration. She should be back on her feet by tomorrow morning at the latest."

I gazed at her. "Why'd you exaggerate?"

"A habit of Mother's that got passed on into me, unfortunately. And it's one I'm comfortable using." Lenn grinned. "Rayven, it turns out, is something of a special order unit. While a lot of her is normal for a Noram Cybersys civilian-use fembot, there are differences. And, from what I discovered putting her back together, that's what saved her from prolonged repairs, even with the leaks in her main power cell."

Irene blinked. "Noram Cybersys? The company in Virginia?"

Lenn nodded. "Very same."

"What type of units come from there, Marlenn?" Anne-Marie asked.

"Heavy construction units mostly, plus robots that are used in hazardous conditions like near-orbital space and toxic zones."

I considered that, then blinked. "Sturdier bone and component construction, you mean. Even if she had a car engine block smashed into her lap, it wouldn't have damaged the parts to the point where you'd have to rebuild the limbs and abdomen from scratch."

Lenn patted my shoulder. "Exactly. Why don't you go look in on her? I need to get Reika opened up."

"Right."

I beckoned Anne-Marie with me as we headed to the north-east side of the laboratory. Sited there is the nanofac, a glass cylindrical tank two-and-a-half metres tall by a metre wide. When working, it is filled to the brim with an opaque, greenish fluid that is supersaturated with billions of construction nanites, tiny 'bots no larger than a speck of dust. This is used in a robot's final construction to have her synthflesh installed. It also helps with repairs from intensive damage. Also, with a nanofac, you can do a lot of cosmetic alterations. Hair and eye colour, skin tone, breast size, musculature -- if you want it changed, here's the machine you need. They are exceptionally expensive units. The equivalent of the advanced medical equipment I was wishing our local hospital had to help Brenda, Kip and Monica.

At present, I could barely make out a tall, female form standing in the nanite-filled fluid. From what I could see of Rayven, I could tell that the nanofac was just getting started with her. "It's like looking at a cadaver," Anne-Marie grimaced.

"You must've had fun in your autopsy classes," I chuckled, staring at her.

She shook her head. "I don't think I could ever see myself doing coroner's work. Tearing a body apart like it was a slab of beef..." a shudder raced through her, then she glanced over her shoulder at Lenn and my other lovers. "How do you stand it, Marlenn?"

"Stand what?" Lenn asked.

"Being forced to tear robots apart, then putting them back together again?"

Lenn paused for a moment to consider her answer, then she sighed. "I look at it this way: I know that if I put the parts back together the right way, the 'bot I'm treating will be made whole and complete." A pause. "I guess neither Mother or I could ultimately stomach the possible levels of randomness human medical care sometimes forces on doctors like yourself, Anne."

"We still have to do it," Anne-Marie mused.

"And the fact that you do it even in the face of impossible odds speaks a lot about you," Lenn conceded.

My friend considered her words, then turned back to gaze on Rayven, her cheeks colouring. "To believe that fourteen years ago, I wanted to take a knife and carve her up after what she did to you," she hissed, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

I gazed at her, then drew her into a one-armed embrace. "I've forgiven her, Anne. I'm the one who did it to myself. Not her."

"It's harder for me," she admitted. "I was the one who had to work on her mom after she tried to kill herself. When I found out from Drew about how neat her vanishing act was, all the anger I felt for her years ago just came roaring back. To believe she just did that...!!"

She gritted her teeth, then relaxed as I drew my other arm around her. "Don't be angry, Anne. Please," I pleaded as I kissed her forehead.

"She abandoned her parents. She abandoned her friends. She abandoned her own child, for God's sake!" Anne-Marie snarled, turning to gaze into my eyes. "And all to pursue some wild theory to try to find some way to give you full use of your ovaries?! Even if it is possible -- and if Drew was right and Marlenn was looking at the stem-cell option, it is possible, to do it this way..."

I jolted, my jaw dropping in disbelief. "It is?!"

She placed a finger on my lips. "I said it's possible, Dee! It's never been done before," she warned me as she allowed her hand to slide down to my cleavage. "There haven't been people like you to practice such techniques on."

I considered that, then sighed. "Yeah, that's true. But if it's possible..."

"I won't give you false hope, Dee," Anne-Marie sighed.

"Thanks."

"Excuse me, Anne?"

Anne-Marie gazed on Irene, who had walked over to join us. "What is it, Irene?"

"How are Rayven's friends? Will they be alright?"

The doctor paused for a moment, then hugged herself. "Their chances aren't good right now, Irene," she sighed.

"Brenda's heart and lungs can't operate on their own," I added, knowing that Anne-Marie would have some problems revealing her patients' exact condition to a near-stranger. "Kip's paralysed from the neck down. And Monica's liver is badly wrecked. And don't you dare reveal that to anyone else other than Reika and Lenn, okay?" I held up a finger to emphasize my point, plus reassure Anne-Marie.

"I understand," Irene nodded.

"It's a pity we're not used to having robots in a hospital setting," Anne-Marie noted. "You know about Tiffany and Amber?"

"The two fembots Lenn built and programmed to watch over Marlenn's mom," I nodded.

"I've heard stories about them from people at the senior centre," she continued. "The instant they obtain freed status, Doctor Fremont'll hire them on the spot as part of his staff. They'll be the first 'bots used in that capacity anywhere in Canada as far as we know."

"Any complaints?" I asked.

"Usual reservations," Lenn answered. "But they disappeared soon enough. I'm glad to see that some people are willing to trust technology. After all, they built us to start with," she winked at me, then turned back to monitoring Reika.

"Pity we can't apply it in other situations," Anne-Marie mused...

I had failed.

Brenda...

Kip...

Monica...

I had failed.

Oh, my beautiful mistresses, forgive me...

If only...

If only...

If only I had...

If only I had been built as a bi-'bot instead of a fembot...

Damned submissive programming...!

Not the penis, but the programming for it...

But the other girls didn't want that...

From me...

If only...

Only...

Forgive me...

Forgive me...

"...local news, a terrible accident on Highway 406 in Welland late Saturday evening nearly claimed the lives of three members of the up-and-coming thrash band, the Vee Beemers," the morning report from CHOW-AM woke me up early the next morning. "Staff at Welland County General Hospital revealed to the press that writer/guitarist Brenda Beemon, drummer Kinsey 'Kip' Hilary and synth player Monica Pascale were admitted into intensive care after their car veered off the highway and rammed into a tree north of the East Main Street interchange sometime after nine o'clock. Fortunately, no other vehicles were involved in the accident. The fourth member of the band, lead singer and robot Rayven Hamlyn, the first ever to work as a star performer in North America, survived the accident with minor damage..."

Moaning, I hit the snooze button on the machine, then felt the bed beside me. The absence of any warm, cuddly, female bodies lying with me fully roused me from my slumber. Blinking as I realized that I was totally alone, I slid into a sitting position, reaching up to rub the sleep from my eyes. Yawning to get some oxygen circulating in my blood, I stood and slipped on a nightshirt before heading into the kitchen to track down my lovers. Only Lenn was in the kitchen making breakfast, dressed in her normal housecoat.