Deanna's Surprise Pt. 03

He's a reporter from Welland's local newspaper, the Tribune.

Guess how I know him?

"Please!" Rayven called as she rose a hand to silence the torrent of questions, then she breathed out. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've just come to look in on Brenda, Kip and Monica. I'll be happy to answer some questions, but I don't wish to be delayed for long. Yes?"

She pointed to the CHCH reporter. "Miss Hamlyn, what exactly happened on Saturday night when you and your friends were travelling to Welland? The spokesperson for your label didn't give any details when she arrived an hour ago to look in on your bandmates."

Rayven shrugged. "In her defence, I would say it's most likely that Karen doesn't know any details yet."

"What did happen, Rayven?" the CBC reporter pressed.

Rayven gazed at me. Ignoring the sudden increase of camera flashes, I smiled. "Tell them the truth," I mouthed, knowing she can read lips.

Seeing that, her gaze turned inward for a moment, then she nodded, the smile slowly returning to her face. Facing the crowd, she bowed her head, then began. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's very hard for me to admit this, but for my friends' sake, I will. This all began two years ago when the band put out our first wide-release album, Kissing A Fool, and the sales grew beyond anyone's expectations..."

The basic explanation took fifteen minutes, interrupted along the way with some technical questions from a reporter from the Saint Catharines Standard and another from the Hamilton Spectator. At the end of it, I could see sad acceptance from the crowd before me, even the teary-eyed fans off to my left. "Why didn't someone say something, Rayven?!" one girl cried out before burying her face in her friend's shoulder.

"No one cared for the danger they put those girls through," Ewan answered, then he stared at me. "Ms. Hordye, should Miss Beemon or her friends be incapable of resuming their responsibilities towards Miss Hamlyn, do you intend to become Miss Hamlyn's owner?"

"I would be pleased to do so as long as it is done according to Canadian and American law concerning transfer of ownership in circumstances like this," I replied. "Of course, any prospective robot owner wouldn't want to take charge of a 'bot under these circumstances."

"Who would?" the CHCH man mused.

"Ms. Hordye, would you press Miss Hamlyn to seek freed 'bot status?" the Standard asked.

Apparently my reputation and views on robots has spread far beyond anything I'd ever imagined. Suddenly this was my interview. "Without hesitation," I answered with a firm nod. "When she's ready for it, of course."

"Would you allow her to resume her singing career?" the Spectator wondered.

"How would I ever stop her? And why?" I chuckled. Laughter echoed from the crowd before us, then I continued. "Even if she can't compose her own music, Raye can still perform as a vocalist." I glanced at her, getting a confirming nod. "I'm sure there're many bands who'd love to have her come work for them. Just as long as they treat her right," I added with a raised finger to emphasize my point.

"You'll take care of her, won't you?"

That question came from the fan who had cried out earlier. I stared at her, then winked. "You bet."

"If you'll excuse us, we'd like to go inside so Rayven can visit her owner and friends," Lenn called out. "I'm sure Rayven will be more than happy to answer more of your questions after she's done. Please excuse us."

The crowd parted just enough to let us pass. Hands reached out to touch all of us in reassurance. The fans screamed out their love for Rayven as she headed inside. A couple girls gave me very warm hugs, thanking me for being there for Rayven. I paused by Ewan, giving him a smile. "Stick around for this one," I whispered, giving him a wink. He still heard me. "There just might be more coming."

He nodded. "I'll be here..."

"Hey, Rayve! Izzat you...?"

I could only shake my head on seeing what was left of Kip Hilary. Her head, neck and shoulders were now encased in plaster, fully immobilizing her. Her face was partially covered by an oxygen mask. The rest of her was draped in a sterilized blanket. Rayven and I were the only ones allowed to see her -- after Anne-Marie ensured we were sterile and garbed in surgical scrubs complete with masks. Hospital intensive care units, I'd learned two years ago when my mother died from asthma, are kept even cleaner than operating rooms when long-term patients are involved. Since neither were conscious at the time, we wouldn't be visiting either Brenda or Monica. Lenn, Reika and Irene told us that they would go back to the lobby and wait there until we were done with the visit.

"Yeah, it's me," Rayven announced, moving to gaze into her friend's eyes. "I hate to say it, Kip, but you're a mess."

"Tell me somethin' I don't already know..." the brown-eyed blonde -- she's about Pauline Kim's age -- moaned. Listening to her voice, I wondered how much pain-killer medication was now circulating inside her. "How're the others?"

"We can't see them now," Rayven reported. "They haven't regained consciousness."

"Oh, fuck..." Kip squeezed her eyes closed as her voice almost broke into a sob, then she glanced towards me. "Who're you...?"

Introductions were made. "Deanna Hordye...?" Kip whispered, then her eyes widened in recognition. "Hey! You're 'Too Young, Hon!'"

Rayven turned to stare at me. "What?"

I chuckled. "That's my LiveJournal nickname. It's an Anglicization of Tu Younghon," I pronounced it properly, with the first "u" sounding like "oo" and the second "o" long, like "oh!" "That's Korean for 'Two Souls.'"

"She's a herm," Kip added, her lips twitching into a smile. "I've always wanted to meet you. I think you're so cool."

"Thanks," I felt my cheeks heat, then my shoulders rolled. "I'm not into thrash. One of my 'bots really loves you guys, though."

A very slight nod tilted her head. "'S cool. What d'you like?"

"Oh, new age, plus some Korean pop, Japanese pop, Canadian folk and classic rock. Yanni, Enya, Secret Garden, Gordon Lightfoot, ABBA..."

"Good music," Kip breathed out, then blinked as the door to her room opened, revealing Anne-Marie. "Hey, Doc..."

"I'm afraid you can't stay long," Anne-Marie gazed at me.

"No problem," I nodded, then gazed at the PDA in her hand. "What's that?"

"For your new friend," my old classmate indicated Rayven with a nod, then positioned herself to Kip's right. "Kip?"

"What happens to Rayve now, Doc?" Kip wondered.

"According to Canadian law, if a robot owner can't execute his or her duties concerning their charges due to prolonged medical problems -- unless the robot has been programmed to assist with those medical problems -- the robot has to be turned over to a more capable owner or shut down entirely for the duration," Anne-Marie sighed. "When she registered herself as Rayven's owner with the state of New York, Brenda listed both you and Monica as having the right to act on her behalf concerning Rayven should she become medically incompacitated. Unfortunately, since it'll be a while before either Brenda, Monica or yourself will recover, well..."

She shrugged. "It's cool," Kip lightly smiled, her eyes then shifting to Rayven. "You 'kay about this, Rayve?"

"I've already asked Deanna to become my new owner," Rayven reported.

"Cool," Kip's pained smile widened, then she gazed on me. "You mind?"

"I'll take care of her," I vowed. "I've already promised your fans outside."

Kip blinked, then breathed out. "They're our family..."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"The only family we've ever had," the Beemers' drummer closed her eyes, tears trailing from them.

I stared quizzically at Anne-Marie. My friend mouthed the words "They're all orphans" to me. Nodding, I stared once more on Kip. "They all love you, Kip," I told her. "And they're worried about you guys. They want you to get better. They all do."

"Tell them 'thanks,'" Kip slowly nodded, then stared at Anne-Marie. "You got Rayve's remote?"

"The person who fixed her up gave it to me," the doctor drew the device -- it was like Reika's and Irene's remotes -- from her smock.

"Let's do it."

"Okay, then," Anne-Marie sighed.

Rayven shifted herself to a stool, using her hands and arms to keep herself balanced. Anne-Marie held up her PDA in one hand, Rayven's remote in the other, then read off a code while pressing her Activate button. Rayven jolted, then her head slumped forward. I was quick to see the trickle of tears flowing from her now-dull eyes. With that, I took the PDA and the remote from my friend. Seeing the activation code written there, I pressed Rayven's Activate button. Her eyes snapped open. "Activation code?" she asked in 'bot monotone.

I read off the activation code. Rayven acknowledged that, then asked for my personal identification. I gave it. She repeated it back to me for confirmation. I confirmed it. I then ordered her to continue all programs she had running now. She asked for me to confirm all choices made for her. I confirmed that. With that, her eyes cleared up. I could see the relieved smile on her face under her mask.

"Mistress, how may I serve you?" she then demurely asked, bowing her eyes.

I sighed. "Keep your remote close to you at all times," I ordered after pressing her Command button, then handed her the device.

"I understand," she replied, taking it.

I handed the PDA back to Anne-Marie with a nod. "Thanks," Kip softly breathed out. "Please take care of her, Deanna."

"I will," I smiled, reaching over to brush a bit of her hair from her forehead.

Rayven gazed on her bandmate, then reached up to pull her mask away from her face. Leaning down, she tenderly kissed Kip on her forehead. "I'm sorry I couldn't have done more for all of you, Kip," she apologized, gazing fondly on her friend.

Kip blinked, then her eyes started to tear. "Don't be," she murmured. "It's not your fault, Rayve. I love you."

"I love you, too, Kip," Rayven reached down to give the patient's hand a squeeze, then moved to remask herself...

We pulled ourselves away from Kip's room minutes later. Making our way to the visitor's change room, we quickly stripped down. "Let's get under a shower and get this disinfectant gunk off us," I muttered, waving Rayven with me to a nearby pair of stalls. Unlike the shower at the Morning Mist Training Hall, the showers here do come with privacy curtains. "It smells to high heaven."

I slipped into one, then jolted on feeling someone step in right behind me. "Raye!" I cried out, spinning on her.

Before I could order her out, she grabbed me in a vise-like bearhug, allowing our breasts to mash together and my now-erect penis to press up against her trimmed bush of dark pubic hair. Swamping me with a tongue-filled kiss, she kept me within her grip until I couldn't muster any show of resistance. As I allowed her tongue to swirl in my mouth, Rayven reached down to flick on the water, then she closed the curtains behind us. I jolted as I got sprayed from head to toe, then relaxed as she adjusted the knobs to a more tolerable level.

"Don't move," she ordered me as she picked up a cloth.

It's weird taking orders from a 'bot, isn't it?

I remained still as Rayven tenderly washed me down. Fortunately, the shower head was mounted on a flexible tube, which allowed my newest charge to get to every point on my body. Naturally, she got very curious about the nature of my sexual organs. I watched as she extended her tongue to tap the tip of my quivering dick. Now I had come to notice that the stalls were big enough to hold two people with comfort. "Raye, what're you doing?" I hissed, trying to ignore the jolts of ecstacy flaring up from my groin. "Someone might come in..."

"Shift change happens three hours from now," she evenly stated, then allowed me to plunge straight into her mouth.

I barely bit back a scream as she started to pump away. It didn't take her long to get what she wanted. And like my other lovers, Rayven is a swallower; not a drop of my cum made it on the floor after I shot my load down her throat. As soon as I had stopped shaking, she pulled her lips away from my cock, then quickly washed me down to get the sweat off me. Once that was done, she handed me the shower head.

Grinning, I moved to spray her down, then took up the cloth to give her body a thorough washing. Once that was done, I allowed my grin to widen as I quickly unscrewed the shower head from the tube. Before Rayven could react, I poised it between her legs, allowing the water to surge right into her vagina. My newest lover cried out with delight as that hot blast hit her where it'd turn her on the most, then she quivered as the imput on her mind soon overwhelmed her pleasure buffer and tripped her orgasm routines. As she came, I pulled the water away from her as I ducked in to get a taste. Mmmmmmm. Just as delicious, just as human, as Reika, Irene or Lenn tasted to me.

Finally, Rayven relaxed. I screwed the shower head back into place, then gave her a final spray-down before putting the head back on its rack. We then embraced, sharing one final kiss as Rayven shut off the shower. "Well?" she wondered, a coy smile crossing her face.

I blinked, then sighed. "I like that sort of spontaneous behaviour," I admitted.

"I never could make myself do that with Shayne or Brenda," she confessed as I pulled the curtain away, we stumbling out.

"Why not?" I wondered, walking over to pick up a towel to toss to my newest lover.

"When it came to Shayne, it was too soon for me to act like that," she admitted as she moved to dry herself. "That changed after Brenda became my owner and I started to notice their problems with drugs. When I found it within myself to try to do something on my own, I quickly noticed that those around me weren't ready for it. Remember earlier today when I told you that Neil's an asshole?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he was more than a roadie to the band. He was there to keep an eye on me. He never said anything directly to me, but I overheard him warn Brenda once -- oh, this was about a year-and-a-half ago, just as we started work on the second album -- to keep me in line."

"And you decided the best thing to do was to mask your self-awareness from outside scrutiny," I concluded as I wiped down my hair.

"Yes," Rayven gazed on me. "I remember what you said about that this morning, Deanna. I'm sorry that I didn't acknowledge it when you took ownership of me in front of Kip, but I..."

Here, she stopped. Yes, she was developing her sense of self-will, but it was still at the beginning stages. I walked over to give her shoulder a supportive squeeze. "Don't apologize," I told her. "And don't ever feel the need to act demurely around me, no matter if we're alone or surrounded by people who don't like that sort of thing. Your opinions matter, Raye. Their opinions don't matter to me at all."

Rayven blinked, then her eyes glistened with tears. "Thank you, Deanna..."

A half-hour later, Rayven and I walked into the admissions lobby. My newest charge now wore her remote around her neck. Waiting in the lobby, as I expected, was Ewan Jolan. "How are they?" the Tribune reporter asked, rising from his chair to intercept us by the doors.

Rayven and I exchanged a look, then seeing her nod, I turned back to my friend. "All in very bad shape," I reported. "Kip stands the best chance of recovery. But unless she gets special treatments for spinal cord regeneration, she'll be paralysed from the neck down for the rest of her life. Brenda and Monique haven't even woken up yet, so we haven't seen them."

"How bad's it with them?" he asked.

"Monique's in the worst danger because of liver injuries," I warned. "If that doesn't heal, she won't survive. Brenda's lungs and heart can't operate. If they don't show signs of recovery, she'll be on a heart-lung machine. And that's not the worst part of it..."

"I know," Ewan nodded. "Their medical insurance won't cover something like this now that the police know drugs are involved. No one knows how far the earnings from their record sales'll cover their medical costs if their insurance company moves to turn off the tap. And given how bad they're hurt, the chances of their getting back on tour, much less recording a new album, to earn more money are small."

"Is their agent still here?" I asked.

"She's still in town," he replied. "I invited her to Jim's and Wendy's party tonight. Give you a chance to talk to her." A pause, then, "Personally, I don't think Ms. Litzky's a bad person. But if she puts her neck out too much for the girls..."

"She risks losing her own job," Rayven finished.

"Damn!" I snarled, then blinked on seeing the small crowd of fans we had spoken to still standing outside. Remembering how they had reacted to the news of the Beemers' problems with drugs, I beckoned Rayven with me. "C'mon."

We headed outside. Sure enough, the reporters were also there. Some of the print journalists were chatting with my lovers, who know better than most how to handle anybody. I wouldn't be surprised if Reika and Irene had already collected some tips from the men at least. As soon as they saw me, Lenn, Reika and Irene walked over to stand with Rayven and I. Camera flashes started going off as the reporter from the Spectator got off with the first question about the girls. Rayven took that. "We only got to see Kip right now," she stated, reaching down to grip my hand. "Brenda and Monique are still unconscious. When they do regain consciousness, we'll be the first ones informed."

"Is Ms. Hordye now your owner, Miss Rayven?" the CBC reporter asked.

"Yes."

"How do you feel about being the owner of such a famous singer?" the CITY-TV reporter asked.

"Well, as I told Kip when we spoke earlier, thrash music really isn't my thing," I replied, eliciting a laugh from the people around us. "I'm a martial arts instructor. My late mother was an elementary school teacher here in town. Until the day Reika and Irene walked into my life, I could never conceive of being the owner of any robot, to say anything of being the owner of record for three freed 'bots. And as I said earlier, I will do everything I can to ensure Raye here will gain freed status when she's ready for it."

I stopped there, taking a deep breath, then continued. Hopefully, I wasn't being too dramatic. "As for Rayven's singing career, well..." I shrugged. "I wish I could bring myself to care for that as much as her fans here..." I waved to the fans who'd come to the hospital today, "...care for them. But even if I did, will it help them in the long run? By the sounds of things now, I don't think so."

"What do you mean?" the Standard reporter asked.

"What I mean is this..."

The gathering ended ten minutes later. As the crowd dispersed, I guided my charges back towards our car. Ewan trailed us for a minute, then glancing back to ensure none of the other reporters could hear him, whispered, "Nicely played."

I winked at him. "See you tonight."

He nodded before heading off to his own car. We got in our car, then Lenn guided it out towards the main gate. As we drove, I spotted the group of Beemers fans walking on the sidewalk. Indicating to Lenn to slow the car down, I leaned out the window as we pulled up to them.

"You girls can pass the word on to everyone you know on the Net?" I asked.

"You bet!" one of them answered for them all, flashing me a thumbs-up.

"Right on! Keep your fingers crossed," I waved at them.

They cheered as we drove off...