Drone Metastasis Ch. 01

Simone snapped her container closed and put it away. "Now," she said, "what's our plan for landing some boys tonight?" She licked her purple lips with her stained tongue.

The transit pod jerked to the right, taking them away from the suburbs. To their left were blocks of factories, gray, drab edifices.

"We could do some flirty dancing," Zoe suggested.

"Hmm, I like the way you think, but we might be in a nice trance by the time we lose ourselves to the beat. Let's start with some drinks and see if we can attract some attention."

Simone grinned. "I bet if we flash some flesh, that will bring them running over."

Zoe slapped her wrist. "Come on, Mony, you know I'm not brave enough to do that."

"Just wait till you get a few drinks in you, I bet you'll be grinding yourself all over their crotches!"

"Mony! I'm not that kind of girl!" She looked down and twirled her thumb ring, inspecting her glossy black nail polish.

"That's not what you said last time!" chuckled Simone.

Zoe punched her shoulder, but her heart wasn't in it. When Simone had pulled her out of her shell at the last party, she had let loose more than she had liked. This time she vowed she would work at controlling herself better.

If she was being truthful, though, she wouldn't mind picking up a hunky boy by the end of the night. Who knew how far things might go?

Her principles warred with her lust for adventure, resulting in a stalemate. Just barely.

"What's this new club called?" she asked.

Last time they had been forced to travel to a larger city, which was why she had been super excited when Simone had told her a new club was opening in Stacksville.

"Drone Ecstasy," said Simone, looking around.

The transit pod had brought them downtown, cruising past banks of late night shops lit with neon signs. There was a surprising amount of foot traffic.

"Ah, there it is," she said, pointing at a dazzling sign.

It took up the top two stories of the boxy building, clearly a conversion from a former warehouse. Each letter lit individually until the word was spelled out. D-r-o-n-e, then a pause, E-c-s-t-a-s-y. The entire phrase blinked a few times, the sign resetting with a different color.

As they watched, it morphed from green to blue to purple, never giving them time to focus. Surrounding the words were several female figures leaning over, all of them having rounded, bald heads. It could just be the coarse resolution of the lighting, but it looked like nobody had bothered to add any hair.

The pod rolled up to the entrance, automatically opening the curb side door. They shuffled out onto the sidewalk, taking in the cool night air.

A long line of club goers bent around the corner. Many of them wore skimpy outfits, but some of them seemed like they had made an effort to dress up. Overall, they just looked tacky.

"Come on," said Simone. "I bet we can jump the line if we're assertive."

She sashayed past the crowd, leading the way with her swaying hips. Zoe wasn't so certain, but she knew better than to try and stop Simone when she had gotten it in her mind to do something.

That tendency had often led them into questionable situations, but Zoe's quick thinking had usually gotten them back out of them.

A few weeks ago, they had almost been arrested on trespassing charges when Simone had dragged her into an urban exploration. When they had been caught, she had managed to convince the security officer that they were lost and needed his protection to get away from the 'dangerous' area.

That was something she definitely hadn't told her dad. He would bust a gasket if he thought his daughter was anything other than a perfect angel. His perception wasn't anywhere close to reality, however. During the last couple of years at college, she had experimented with a more than a few different relationships, but none of them had been anything more than shallow pickups. She found herself getting bored of the stupid choices they tended to make.

Not that she hadn't made plenty of bad choices herself. She was starting to think that this was going to be another one of them.

At the front of the line a real bruiser stood by the entrance, a gigantic hulk of a man. Simone was already trying to sweet talk her way past him.

"Hi, handsome. I heard that this is the most glamorous joint in town, and I want to get down tonight." She leaned over, displaying her generous decolletage.

The bulky man grunted in appreciation. "Sorry love, great tits won't grant you entry here, but nice try."

He crossed his arms and peered down at her with beady eyes squinting over thick lips.

Zoe's eyes widened. She well knew the sort of tantrums Simone would throw when she didn't get her way. She had better step in before her friend made a scene.

If the brazen approach wasn't working, perhaps she could apply a bit of fakery. She rushed forward, inserting herself in front of Simone. "I apologize for her behavior," she said, feeling flustered, her cheeks red. "It's only that we've arrived late, and we're trying to join a friend already inside."

That was a blatant lie, but it might just work. She gazed at him with her most innocent expression.

The large man looked to his left at a second figure that stood next to the door. She caught a glimpse of a silvery dome, thick red lips, and a blue face. The woman's body was hidden under a thick overcoat, but she caught a glimpse of white teeth.

She purposefully kept her gaze on the bouncer, hoping for a sign of approval. The man took in the two of them, pausing for a beat. Hope plummeted, but a wide smile grew on his face. "You're approved, get in there." He jerked his head.

They breezed inside, trotting past the mysterious figure. Relief tingling her senses, she quickly forgot about the strange figure, thoughts of dancing crowding out the strangeness.

"Can you believe the gall of that man?" declared Simone, her face alight with fiery justice. "He ogled my tits!"

Zoe rolled her eyes. Simone was probably offended that the man didn't find her attractive enough to let them in solely on the merits of her physical beauty.

It wasn't a problem. She'd let her vent for a few moments so that she'd get it out of her system.

Her mind was already jumping ahead to their main goal for the night - finding some cute guys to buy them drinks and take them dancing. She wasn't opposed to a one night stand, but while she was living with her parents she had no place to entertain a paramour.

Her thighs clenched as she fantasized about taking a man in a back alley, but it was only that. She wasn't dumb enough to actually do it.

The drugs she had taken before coming to the club were starting to take hold, and she was already starting to feel some of the effects. She breathed deeply, taking in the fresh smell of the room. It was deeply fragrant, almost sweet. She felt hot and flushed, craving a drink.

Her eyes roved back and forth, taking in the interior. Recessed lighting set the tone. Low ceilings making the place seem cozy.

Off to the left was a full service bar, a circular wooden table surrounding a wall filled with bottles. Many bar stools were already occupied by patrons, downing their personal drinks.

Tables were jammed into every available space, populated with groups of friends who were making quite a racket. She scanned them briefly, but didn't see any potential prospects among them. She didn't fancy fishing in those waters to try and find a willing dance partner.

To her right was a large octagonal dance floor, stairs leading down to a polished wooden floor from seven sides. The eighth side contained a stage kitted out with electronic instruments, a blue curtain hiding the back rooms.

Nobody was on stage at the moment. They must be between sets. That explained why the dance floor was clear.

This presented her with a dilemma: where should they hang out? Usually the best place to hook up was on the dance floor proper. She didn't fancy trying to talk to one of the single boys scattered among the periphery of the room.

No, their best chance right now was probably to sit at the bar and hope that they would be noticed. She steered Simone towards the bar, glancing around to see if there was a better approach.

Simone was still talking. "This place is stellar!" she declared, running a finger over one of the tables. "They didn't spare any expense!"

Zoe tended to agree. This was far too nice for Stacksville. How would they ever make their money back on this venture? The capital losses must have been atrocious!

As they approached the bar, her eyes lit up. "Is that a robotender? How could they possibly afford one?"

Simone chuckled. "Always the consummate professional. Let's not talk about their business model tonight, please? That turns off the guys."

"Fine," she said, sitting down and pressing her chest against the wooden table top. "Would you like something to drink, or should we pretend we're broke?'

Simone hopped up onto a stool, sliding her leather skirt over the blue seat. "We can afford to start with something," she declared. "With any luck we'll reel in a catch before we need refills."

She signaled to the bartender. "Cosmic Swirl, please!"

The bartending robot turned its spherical body and beeped at Zoe. "What would you like, mistress?" it said via its gravelly vocoder.

Zoe considered for a brief moment. "I'll have a Surface Slider."

The interior of the robot buzzed, the globe on top of its squat body swirling blue. Zoe giggled, finding the way it pulsed entrancing, a warm glow suffusing her body. That was probably just the drugs talking.

The robot chimed and a door on its rotund chest opened, a little shelf extending with her drink. She picked up the glass and admired the colors, layers of green and blue shifting in a dizzying array. She giggled.

"And for you, madam," murmured the machine, a second drink sliding out into Simone's waiting hands.

"About time!" she declared, seizing the hourglass shaped goblet. The fluorescent pink drink had spherical green globes suspended within the mix.

The robot ignored her snippiness, turning to continue its duties. Zoe rolled her eyes, but was careful not to let Simone see her annoyance.

She was a great friend, but sometimes her fiery temper flared, which could ruin an otherwise mellow night out. That wouldn't do - it was threatening to ruin her vibe. She smiled, placing her hand on her friend's arm.

"Let it slide, Mony, we're here to have a good time."

Simone tensed for a moment, but relaxed. "Yeah, you're right. No need to get uptight over a bucket of bolts."

She took a sip of her drink and sighed, looking over the wallflowers with a contemptuous glare. "Talking about robots. Look at them! Too afraid to approach. They sit there like lumps of metal!"

She snorted. "Where have all the interesting guys gone?"

Zoe briefly thought of her brother, but held her tongue. His temperament was wholly unsuitable for her friend. He was stable, diligent, and... boring.

Besides, all he did with his spare time was play hologames. He would never be elevated above the level of 'icky nerd' in her friend's mind.

It was too bad. She knew he could be loyal, diligent, and damn persistent, but none of those personality traits would win him a woman. Especially if he spent all of his time chasing virtual prizes. Exasperated, she sighed to herself.

Fortunately, Simone took this as a gesture of agreement. "They're all dicks. Dicks attached to wallets."

She chortled loudly and took a swig from her drink, the multicolored morass sloughing into her mouth. She chewed on one of the green spheres, then burped.

"I bet none of those fools has the gumption to even talk to us. Look at them, they're all stunned by our beauty."

Zoe took a half hearted look, but her eyes skimmed over the other clubbers. She was feeling a bit anxious at the behavior of her friend. She was acting far more drunk than she should have been.

Speaking of which, she was feeling rather woozy herself. That was probably just the drugs she had taken earlier. Everything in the bar seemed to be more vibrant, and she was smiling uncontrollably.

Before Simone could complain further, the lighting dimmed, casting their faces in shadow. Dusky blue light back-lit the bar. She turned and gaped.

The stage in front of the dance floor had been populated with blue skinned female figures wearing shiny chrome helmets. Their outfits were made of a rubbery material, clinging tightly to their svelte bodies. A few areas were opaque to preserve some form of modesty, but a cut out panel in the center of their chests revealed the sides of their breasts and shining gems embedded in their breastbones.

One of them stepped up to the microphone stand, leaning into it as if it was her lover, a sparkling aquamarine drawing the eyes of the audience. "Good evening, Stacksville!"

As she drew out the words, the lights above her rotated in a circle, blue spotlights dancing across the floor. "I am your host, Drone Dancer. Call me Double D for short! Are you all being good little robots tonight? Want to get down with your cybernetic selves? Step onto my floor and let's get the party started!"

Zoe had only a moment to register how odd they all looked before the rest of the clubbers rushed the stage, hoping to be the first to join in before the first song started.

Simone giggled. "Come on, Zoe, let's dance!"

Zoe was feeling out of sorts, but didn't resist as her friend dragged her onto the wooden floor, crowding in with the others. A smoky blue mist hissed from generators built into the steps of the octagon, lending everything a mystical air.

The bassist struck a chord, launching into a heavy backbeat. Holographic projectors spewed a colorful array of pyrotechnics in front of the band. The crowd raised their arms and howled with delight.

Drone Dancer pressed the mic against her lips and belted out the opening notes of a popular song, spinning around as she strutted on stage.

"Dance to the beat! Dance to the heat! Keep those footsies movin' as the beat gets ya groovin'!"

Zoe found herself sliding into a dance move instinctually, surprising herself. Simone was dancing, too, almost as though her body was being moved like a puppet.

Slanted lighting roved over their bodies, making it difficult for her to focus. She watched the singer through the throng of clubbers, feeling oddly compelled to follow her blue skinned body as it moved effortlessly. Her shiny domed head slid back and forth as her rouged lips belted out the song. She found herself mouthing the words, repeating them back as her hips flexed.

"Dance to the beat! Repeat! Dance to the beat! Repeat!"

Unknown hands slipped into hers and she was dancing, dancing.

End Chapter One