Have We Met? Pt. 02

"How the hell can you sleep in there?" Wanda said, startling me. I didn't miss the way her eyes searched the room. I had hoped I was wrong, but her subliminal actions spoke louder than words.

"Damn it, woman," I cursed. "I thought you were upstairs."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Up to now, nothing bothered me," I said. "It must have been you."

Wanda didn't mind fucking in here but refused to sleep on the bed and begged me to join her upstairs. I did most of the time unless exhausted, then I just rolled over and fell asleep. Wanda retreated into the living room while I fought the fitted sheet into position. As I reached for the top sheet I had placed atop my chest of drawers, I heard Wanda's voice filtered in low and guarded. Was she telling someone about the fan? I stopped and tried to listen in but failed. Frustrated, I returned to finish making the bed. I turned away from the living room when a flash of metal caught my eye.

"Who put you here?" I asked as I lifted the Zippo lighter and examined it. "Dad's lucky lighter. Where the hell did you come from?"

The geometric markings along one side were unique and designed by my dead father. I used my thumb to flick open the top. The faint scent of lighter fluid filled my nostrils. But when I rolled my thumb against the striking wheel, the lighter failed to ignite. Maybe it was out of fuel. I held the case with one hand, gripped the top with my other, and tugged. The guts of the lighter slid free reluctantly. I examined the bottom of the Zippo and made a quizzical face. I had never owned one before and had no idea how to refill it without Googling the instructions.

"Hmm, looks like a hole in the bottom of the case," I said, but the outer surface was unblemished when I inverted it. "That is fucking weird. What the hell is that?"

The sensation of my ears popping made me nearly drop the lighter. A sensual female voice posed a question.

"Are you addressing me? I can attempt to help," she said. I spun around, but no one was behind me.

It wasn't the same voice as the security system Wanda had installed. Besides that, the sound didn't have a specific direction.

"Who are you? Hell, where are you?" I asked in a soft voice. The last thing I needed was Wanda thinking I heard voices.

"I am the device on your wrist. I am the product of our father's best years. It has taken time for me to bond with your biological systems. A part of me passed through your epidermis and into your bloodstream. Once enough nanites were created by harvesting fat cells and unnecessary tissue, the bonding process accelerated. It has taken time to complete the procedures and actions our father instructed me to perform. My last function was to create a means of communication through optical and audio data exchange."

"Bonded?" I asked and then remembered the park and going blind temporarily. "You, at the park, and that material in my tears, excess nanites."

"Yes. I am sorry for any discomfort or panic. You see, you share half of our father's DNA. We are two halves of a genetic whole. How can I be of help?"

"You are the product of dad's attempts at improving artificial intelligence. The lawsuit didn't mention that he had succeeded in creating one." He did it; the excitement overwhelmed me until I remembered his lighter. Dad pulled it off. Had dad somehow gotten the lighter into my hands? At this point, I wouldn't put anything beyond him. "Welcome to the family, and since you asked, can you shine some light on this situation?"

I asked calmly, even though the thing on my wrist had invaded my body and changed it in ways I may never learn its full extent. There was one unchanging constant in my life; I trusted my dad. The flashlight mode on the bracelet activated, and I directed the beam into the shell. A large dark spot showed against the intense illumination. What the hell is that?

"Should I scan?" The device asked.

"You can do that, cool. Go for it," I said, and the bright white beam became a stuttering blue projection. "Do you know what it is?"

"Ha, talk about archaic," she chuckled. "Father told me about these when I was younger and less complex. It is called a microdot. It is an old-school way of storing information. Intelligence agents used the process during the Cold War. Was my creator a spy?"

"I don't think so," I said. "No, dad was an engineer and inventor. How did he create you outside Numenor's sphere of influence?"

"Father was meticulous about documenting all of his endeavors. When I was young, he shared with me his thoughts and inspirations. One was odd; our father filmed himself staring into a bathroom mirror. He wrote out mathematical formulae and lines of computer code. The strange thing is that they were inverted, and he had to rewrite them later normally. I remember thinking it was as if my father had seen them through that mirror. That isn't possible, is it?"

"I'm not sure. Let's stay on task. Can you access the microdot?"

"Let me try a few things," she said. The beam's intensity, pattern, and color altered as the AI tried to recover the data on the microdot. "Nothing. There must be a specific bandwidth of light required to view the contents. Did father leave behind any personal items for you?"

"Lots of things, but most of them are in my safety deposit box at the bank," I replied. "They don't possess a monetary worth but hold a great deal of sentimental value to me."

"I suggest waiting until Monday when the banks open if that suits you?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, distracted by who could have left the lighter for me to find. "Hey, since we are talking. I managed to dismantle dad's ring. It hasn't left my finger since I got it. Can you help me reassemble it?" The pocket doors closed, and I heard a loud click.

"I have sealed this room from intrusion. Remove the components and your tools. This process won't take us long."

I sat on the bed, spread out the parts, set out the tool kit, and the AI did the rest. It took a few minutes to rebuild the lower outer band. Once done, I removed the dark silver ring and set it into place. Ten minutes later, I pressed the diamond into its housing, and the microactuators received it and locked it into place. I hated the feeling, but I was relieved that I restored the ring, and hopefully, Wanda or anyone else wouldn't know I solved the puzzle. For all they knew, I switched one band for the other.

The lighter's appearance was still a mystery. Who had I fucked in the last couple of days? Beverly, Octavia, and Wanda were the only women to set foot in the guest bedroom. Oh wait, there was the cleaning lady; damn, what was her name? We had gone at it so hot and heavy I never bothered to ask. It didn't matter, for now, so I placed the Zippo in my pocket. There had to be something to take my mind off things until Monday. I walked into the living room, and Wanda ended her phone call abruptly. To top it off, she looked guilty as sin.

"Change of plans," Wanda said, and my paranoia went up a notch. "Your cousin Tyra invited us to the resort for the weekend."

"Gods, I haven't seen Tyra since she went off to a finishing school in Europe," I said.

The thing on my wrist projected a recent image of Tyra without warning. If the picture was accurate, Tyra had grown into a lovely young woman. How the hell did it do that? Friendly green letters appeared now. Neural uplink established, bonding complete.

"You okay? You look upset," Wanda said. "We can go another time if you'd prefer."

"When do we leave?"

"An hour; I've chartered a helicopter to get us there," Wanda explained.

"I guess I'll order pizza. Want some?"

"Yeah, plenty of meat and cheese," Wanda said. "Before too long, we'll be skiing, horseback riding, or lounging in a hot tub. No pressure to do anything. You look like you could use some downtime."

"Dasha's visit brought Dex's murder to mind. I guess I am a little stressed."

As we went to pack clothing for the weekend, I learned that Wanda had invested in my cousin Tyra's start-up. The resort catered to the wealthy year-round and was not limited to winter recreational events. There was a stable of horses, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and enough private acreage for celebrities and the elite to walk or ride in peace. Tyra guaranteed anonymity and a stress-free experience. Wanda made a vague reference that the chalet was a revitalization project. The previous business had tanked, and Tyra took it over. Not a bad idea if you can get the backers. Dad left enough for those kinds of investments. I bet Wanda was getting an excellent return on her money. I was about to place dad's lighter into Wanda's wall safe when my intuition kicked in.

'Keep the lighter.'

I almost heard it in my head. I asked the AI if she had spoken. She hadn't. A long weekend in a new environment might be the thing I need to clear away the cobwebs. Who knew? Maybe some pretty thing could inspire my next sculpture. I hadn't lied to Dasha about how the murder had crushed my creativity. I took a few deep breaths, placed the pizza order, and returned to packing a single bag for the excursion. I put a fresh sketch pad, drawing tools, and my high-end digital camera if someone offered to model for me. Wanda suggested a tuxedo in case celebrities or some of her friends happened to be at the chalet. The pizza guy arrived on time, and Wanda and I feasted on meaty, cheesy goodness. After that, we took a taxi to the airport. I had never been in a helicopter before and was looking forward to it. As we drove to the airport, the AI prompted me to act.

"Colton, I require your assistance, please."

I pretended to answer my cell phone and replied. "Hey, what is it?" I asked

"My programming is quite specific. I can no longer abide you calling me the bracelet or that thing. I need a name, an identity to call my own."

"How can I help," I began when the creation menu popped up in front of me. "Oh, this could take a while." Wanda looked over at me and smiled. "So, you need help with character creation, got it," I said, trying to cover the conversation the best I could. "It would be great if you had an unusual name. Could you walk me through it? Let's start with your avatar. Do you have any ideas?"

"I shall display using your optical nerve cluster," she began, and then her voice stammered in a very human-like fashion. I wasn't sure I was speaking with a machine intelligence for a moment there. "Well, um, yes. Here, I found these parameters appealing."

She displayed the image in such a way as to appear hovering before me. She hit all the right buttons on what I found physically attractive. The perfect blend of so many feminine traits astounded me. I doubted any woman alive could carry so many synergetic genetic gifts. The avatar stood two feet six inches tall, with long cascading auburn hair, green eyes, and curvy in all the right places. Her ethnicity was a hodgepodge that ranged from Asian to Latin and Nordic to Greek. I had traveled enough to pick out specific traits, and I had never met a woman as lovely as this. The AI's choices were her own and perfect. I brought my phone up and pretended to look at an image.

"I approve," I said. "I wouldn't change a thing."

"I have several voices I find alluring." She said. When she gave me a sample of her fifth voice, I shivered. Even the most mundane phrase spoken would arouse anyone. Her naked breasts bounced when she hopped up and down in delight, and I approved. "What sort of personality would you want me to adopt?"

I felt a chill when she asked that question. There was something unfair about changing anything. I blushed and whispered into the phone so that Wanda couldn't hear me.

"I like your curious nature and your desire to learn and grow. You show keen independence and strong will. To be honest, I am not sure I feel comfortable changing anything. That would be selfish of me. Wouldn't it be criminal to make you change?"

"Colton, I am just a machine," she said. "My purpose is to serve and be useful. I want to be everything you require. That is my dearest desire."

"I have a solution that will serve both of us. Want to hear it?"

"Yes!"

"I trust you. Though, we have only been together a short time. I know you have my best interest at heart. My idea is this, keep monitoring my needs, and if you think something would better serve those ideals, then you choose to adopt it or not."

"You wish me to push my ability to adapt. I approve."

"Mnemosyne means memory," I said. "I like the way it rolls off the tongue."

"Ooh, Mnemosyne sounds lovely," she purred in her new voice. "You have reached the airport. I will protect the house while you are away. Relax."

Mnemosyne informed me that she would allocate a portion of her attention to the house while we were away. Her ability to multitask was unmatched. It helped me unwind, knowing she would keep our home safe. The drive to the airport had been a practice in self-control. Wanda lifted her skirt, revealing her lack of panties repeatedly. I suspected the driver knew what she was doing. He brought up the teasing while waiting in line to drop us off.

"Honeymoon?" He asked. "Or early on, my girlfriend is what my dad would have called frisky."

"Reconnecting a lot," I said, laughing.

"I used to break up with my girlfriend just so we could have angry makeup sex," the driver said. "People may argue, but it is the best kind of sex there is."

"He's right," Wanda agreed. "Ooh, we are almost there."

"That's what she said," the driver and I said simultaneously.

After a quick trip through security, Wanda and I headed to the gate where our pilot awaited us. The older man surprised me when he kissed Wanda's cheek and talked about the good old days as he led us to the helicopter. He stored our luggage for us and performed the final preflight checks. We donned our headgear as the engine spun up to speed, and once we received clearance from the tower, he lifted off. I leaned against the window and looked out as the ground fell away and we gained altitude.

"If it weren't for Wanda here, I would have lost my business years ago," the pilot said over the headsets. "She pulled my ass out of the fire."

"It was the least I could do for a dear friend," Wanda said.

"So, you are Windermere's kid. You look like him, and you've got her eyes," the pilot said, which earned him a dirty look from Wanda. "Jeez, Wanda, his dad's dead, and that craziness is history."

"Cecil, you promised me you'd never bring it up, ever," Wanda snapped. "Now shut your mouth and fly the goddamn helicopter already. Fuck! This trip was supposed to be a quiet weekend."

"Don't worry, Cecil. I'll fuck her into submission. She'll forget all about this in no time," I promised.

"Ha, he even sounds like his old man," Cecil snorted. "So, you guys are up for the big shindig this weekend? I know Tyra only invites her closest friends and biggest clients to the fire festival."

"Damn it all to hell," Wanda cursed again. "I fucking forgot that was this weekend. Well, shit, too late to turn back now."

"Fire festival sounds like fun," I said, and the pained expression on Wanda's face made me question my initial reaction. "Maybe we should book a hotel room and live off room service for a few days. If this is too much, I'll understand."

"No," Wanda said. "Just old ghosts rearing their ugly heads. Besides, I invited someone special up for tonight. I don't want to disappoint her."

"Nothing beats a little threeway action," Cecil laughed. "Just kiss your way down her spine, and she'll be putty in your hands in no time."

"Cecil, you asshole," Wanda said.

They exchanged verbal barbs and trips down memory lane for the rest of the flight. I sat back and listened. Cecil knew Wanda way too well to be simply friends. There was history, which opened an understanding of her that I had been missing. Cecil contacted the chalet, and they switched on the helipad's lights for our final approach. The landing was as smooth as the takeoff. My cousin Tyra awaited us and gave hugs all around. As Cecil refueled, he received the coordinates of other guests invited to the festival.

"Money awaits," Cecil announced as he finished refueling and promised to return as soon as possible.

"It was sheer genius to add the helipad to the resort," Tyra said. "Colton, damn, you grew up."

"I'm not the only one," I said. "Last time I saw you, you were so petite."

"He means I was thirteen and flat as a board," Tyra joked. "Welcome to Orcus Gardens, a quiet place away from prying eyes and the outside world. I saved the Emperor's Suite for you two. You better not hog him all weekend. Colton and I need to do some catching up."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Wanda said.

"You are in for a real treat this weekend," Tyra purred. "Brianna, get your lazy ass in here!"

A tall leggy brunette strode in. Brianna, the ponygirl, included a tail plug firmly buried in her ass, a feathered plume atop her head, and just enough leather to accentuate her curvaceous body. I didn't miss the pendulum-like weights hanging from the girl's double-pierced nipples. The cross-shaped design created by the slim metal shafts made me wonder how much that had to hurt.

"Take their luggage to the Emperor's Suite, and trot so that Colton can admire that fine ass of yours."

The girl nodded since a ball gag kept her from speaking. Brianna collected our luggage and leisurely led us to our room. As we walked behind Brianna, I noticed welts across her cheeks, the heavy leather collar about her neck, and the soft musical hum coming from the vibrator tail she sported. Brianna's stiletto heels click-clacked as she crossed the marble floor.

"Brianna must be new to Tyra's stable," Wanda said. "I don't remember her from the last time I visited here. She could be an import from one of the other clubs."

"The Orcus Gardens sounds a bit ominous," I said.

"It is supposed to," Wanda laughed. "It harkens back to the Hellfire Club and similar exclusive groups. Tyra must want to impress you. She rarely parts with the Emperor's Suite short of nobility or an A-lister celebrity. What is it? I can see something is on your mind. Oh, don't mind, Brianna. She is just a dumb animal. Speak your mind."

"Fine, the pony's pussy is absolutely soaked. You can see how it glistens around that string of pearls attached to the butterfly panties."

"I didn't notice," Wanda said. "The little slut is aroused. It must be you. I can't say as I blame her. You are a well-hung stud. Maybe she thinks you want to fuck her throat or beat her ass in her feeble little brain. Do you want to use a riding crop on her, Colton?"

"I might."

Brianna never faltered or took a single misstep. She dutifully carried our luggage to the room and lowered her head to be dismissed or rewarded with an ass beating. I had never tipped the help with a whip before. Wanda retrieved one from the room's toy cabinet, and I accepted it and, with a touch, got Brianna into position. She braced herself against the foot of the bed, lowered her head, and stuck her ass out. I raised my arm and let the nine or so leather cords strike her naked flesh; Brianna let out a soft whinny and wiggled her ass for more. Wanda counted down from ten. When the tenth lash hit, Brianna climaxed and knelt on the floor.

"We don't want to spoil her," Wanda said. "Perhaps later you can run her through her paces. Let her recover, and we'll find some refreshments."

Brianna never made eye contact with either of us. She trotted out and closed the doors behind her. We unpacked, and Wanda gave me a brief tour of the suite. It overlooked the entire chalet. You could see the entrance to the trails, the outdoor swimming pool, the tennis court, and the ski slopes. I followed Wanda to the suite's hot tub through the black marble chamber. I ran my hand along the wall and noticed that the stone wasn't opaque like marble. Instead, a translucent depth allowed you to see layers of color and substance.