1

"Holy shit, she's over a hundred!!" Lowlife exclaimed. His twin brother gave him the hard look and turned to face the android once again.

"Party Time Limited, model number two, S-Class, configuration C1, Insa Type Product Two."

"Sure do; it's was way back when Chuck was on the government chair. Insas were the seven half-Reli androids who had tried to storm the office. What's her product number?"

"Then she's the second one to have been created. Read your history books, guys!"

"No. Drivers are unavailable. All movement is impossible. Main senses are also shut off."

"Okay. I have a set of stock drivers on drive RBO, on my computer. You're hooked up through the optical spike on your arm to Port One. Upload these drivers to your systems and attempt installation."

Lowlife contemplated the scene with interest. Unlike his brother, he was a complete stranger to computer and android programming. However, this wasn't his main concern right now...

"I'm not sure. Don't they normally say so when the installation's complete and the drivers do work? I don't know much about those things but I know they usually say that kind of stuff when I watch you do it."

"Well, it's a little complicated." Works leaned back in his chair. "Back in the early 1800s we had the invasion of the Reli demons, everyone knows about it because those guys are still there and attacking cities every so often. As Xian told us, an Insa is a mix between an android and a Reli. Hence, I can say her legs are actually formed from Reli flesh, and thus those legs follow the same biological configuration, meaning they don't age, they can self-regenerate, and have some morphing capabilities. The reason she's moving her feet right now is probably because she doesn't need any drivers to operate these... You know, it's kind of funny to say but I bet she'd be whistling right now if she could."

Lowlife snorted and shook her head. "You're nuts, even if you happen to be my brother! Well, I'm going for a cigarette. Happy flirtin', dude!"

He closed the door behind him, leaving Works with just a dim light bulb and a computer screen for company.

The man loosened his tie and watched the screen, which didn't show a progress bar anyways. Looking over to Elise, he saw she had crossed her legs and her left foot was going left and right. Her mind was patiently waiting for the processor to finish the incorporation. Long, long incorporation. After all, she was an old model.

Her face and arms went on to take every possible angle, following a predetermined set of coordinates, calculating average rate of error and logging the results. Then, she sat up and down ten times.

Works went and stood beside her. "Follow my finger." He moved it in each direction. The android's eyes followed.

"Eye testing successful. Ear testing successful. Testing touch. Cold and smooth surface detected. Estimate: metal. Please confirm."

"Smell testing skipped. Testing complete. All drivers are installed and working. One test skipped. All other system files are available and working. Hard drive space: ninety six percent of full capacity. Fragmentation level: zero percent. Bad clusters level: two percent. Please provide date and time."

"We are September nine, year one thousand nine hundred fifty six, the time is... five hours and three minutes PM."

"Activate all necessary main system files and resume normal operation if possible. You may sit up when done."

Works smiled. "Well, if you say so." He extended his hand. "For your information, my name is Works."

I don't really like my new surroundings. Too dark and gloomy, as if I was in some underground place. Brings back bad memories.

Damn you! I guess I'll have to install a new one. Those designers weren't expecting me to think for a hundred and forty years straight.

I have to say, Works looks pretty weird. I don't know if it's because he swept his hair back in the most sacrilegious fashion or if it's because he's wearing brown contacts to more or less hide his beautiful blue eyes... Seems like he's always trying to hide something, this guy. I've only met him a few seconds ago and I already have an idea of what he's like. I'm thinking too quickly for my own good.

What else... Drivers are working, everything is fine and dandy, nothing critical was lost, I'm alive and kicking again thanks to those guys, but I know they will ask me something in return... Something tells me I've just fallen into another shit hole. And the weird part in all this is that I'm an android and yet I have an intuition.

The door opened once again. Elise walked out and took in the full beauty of the Crate's installations.

She was on the second floor of the immense main hall. There were no windows anywhere, confirming her thought that the place was underground. At her left was a small lounge set into a corner with a couple of old chairs and couches, next to a counter with a coffee machine. Further in this direction, past the lounge and the counter, was a catwalk leading to two other rooms. In fact, the entire second floor was a catwalk. Looking at her feet, she could see people moving about on the first floor. Her gaze went up, following the straight metal stairway, to the second floor where she could see several workers grouped up around two large machines. At the very far back, she could see a set of silver double doors. Looking to the right, she saw another door. It was closed.

"Need to pee?" Lowlife added with a laugh. She ignored him and opened the door. The brothers' faces twisted in shock as they saw her take a paper cup, pour herself some water, drink it, and spit it out. When she turned around, she laughed at the odd expression printed on them.

"What's that face for? Never seen anyone with a dry mouth before?" She said while trying to stop her giggles.

"Uhh..." Works didn't really know how to phrase this. "I think you forgot you were an android here."

"So? I happened to have a dry mouth, so I had to go and take some water to fix it. What's wrong with that?..." Her expression changed all of a sudden. "Oh! Yeah, okay, I get you! It's because I'm not like the average android. Thought the legs would've been a hint."

Okay, I totally dig the twin guy. At least he's got class: swept-back bleached blonde hair, natural blue eyes, a T-shirt, a jacket and a pair of black pants. It's not like his creepy brother with the shirt and tie.

My log files are working at full pace now; damn! At this rate my hard drive will be absolutely full in three days. And I don't want to delete any part of it. There are some important thoughts written in there! Good memories! I could write a book out of these thoughts! Like this one. This has to be one of my favorites.

#71

Shrike once said an android had a soul, like humans and animals do. If it wasn't for the soul, we wouldn't be able to operate our emotion programs. If it wasn't for the soul, we wouldn't be able to think for ourselves or plan or figure things out. We wouldn't be able to grow. I grew. I grew since I've met her. When she freed me from the slavery of my owner, I realized that all that time, I had felt like a prisoner locked inside my own mind. I was forced to do things. I didn't want to do them, but my body moved against my will. I liked it, I loved it, I moaned and I demanded more every time, until my tanks were about to explode. That's how I felt, but that wasn't how I thought. I thought my owner was a pervert. I wanted to run away, free myself, go somewhere else and begin my own life. I thought this whole thing was wrong, that I was just a victim. But that was only a thought. Once in a while, when he seemed sad, I felt compelled to go over to him and hug him from behind. I'd ask him what was wrong, if he's like to talk to me about it. He lived alone. I wasn't considered a person. Whenever I came up to him, he asked for a hand job to forget about his day. I had smooth hands back then. As a symbol, I changed them to what they are today. I can punch now.

That was the proof of the soul. I knew, I remembered, and I acted based on these events. I had things in my memory and I wanted to respond to them. I had things close to my heart and I wanted to keep them.

Like the log files. Precious, so precious log files. My thoughts. My mind. My diary...

"Now, Elise, I think it's time you get to know a little more about where you are. Let's sit down at the lounge."

She followed Works there, sat down and waited for him to finish getting another coffee and settle as well. Just to be on the safe side, she also crossed her legs.

"Now..." Works wasn't even looking at her. He was busy stirring a sugar cube in his foam cup. "Let's start by the beginning. We found you in a junkyard in the industrial sector of New Colombus. You seemed in fine shape, just knocked out. My brother, whom you'll know by the nickname Lowlife, and my chief operative Xian Hikosa, brought you here and then I took it upon myself to fix you up. I didn't find anything wrong in your files or anything leading to me thinking you might be a foe, so that's why I'm pouring out the whole story in front of you.

You are in the headquarters of what's called The Crate. We are a liberator group working to thwart the experiments of a corrupt governmental division and rescue as many mutants from them as possible. The ones we're fighting for are nicknamed Department Twisted. They work on genetics, nuclear physics, biochemistry, war machines, and other dangerous stuff, but especially genetics and mutants."

"Sounds like the Independent Department of Governmental Research back in my time." Elise interrupted. Works nodded.

"That's right; they're the same guys. The public knows about them more or less but they don't do much about it. To them, the Department is just scandal over scandal, so much that they've stopped believing it. But, it's another story when it comes to mutants. Since they were the guinea pigs of the Department for a while, they want to be paid for what's been done. So, since the government wasn't doing anything about it, they called for a racial jihad and declared that they would wipe out the human race for what it has done.

My group is less extremist than that. It's composed of humans, mutants and free androids, and we all believe that a jihad isn't the answer. We believe that the only way we can win this conflict is by striking the Department itself instead of blaming innocent people. Does my story hold together so far?"

"Good. Operatives of the Crate usually work on rescue missions. We sneak in, save mutants, destroy as many computers as we can find, and get out. The Department has guards and weapons, and thus we don't try to stick around for too long. Most of the mutants rescued join us."

"Uh, that's great, but why are you praising your group to me? You don't even know if I'm interested."

Works grinned. "Elise. Suppose you go out on the street. Right now. What will people do when they see an android with real legs? They'll tell everyone about it, the Department will come to get you, and you'll be locked inside a cell for the rest of your days, while a bunch of labcoats examine you and test you and hurt you and take notes on you as if you were an animal. You're not an animal, right? You're a real person! I can see it in your face. You have tons of involuntary movements that are just not possible on a standard android of your time."

Elise frowned and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "I've learned a lot from life. That's what we call experience."

"Well, call it this way if you will. It doesn't change the fact that if there was a wall between us, I could just mistake you for any average person. You're really special, Elise. You've got more than a hundred years of life experience. I'm sure you are a smart and mature person now."

"So this is what I ask from you." Works leaned forward and briefly glanced at his coffee. "You have nowhere else to go. So I propose you become an operative among our team. I know you'll be a very strong ally. And when the Mutant War ends, there will be no need for us anymore. Either the Department will have been destroyed, or the mutants will have been beaten and we'll be too weak to fight alone. I'm hoping you can help us turn the balance in our favor. If we're successful, that means you'll finally be able to walk out in the street and enjoy life just like anyone else. You'll be free. For real! There will be no one bothering you, because no one will be allowed to."

He knows my weaknesses. He knows my memories. He must have read in there, despite all the encrypting codes...

No, wait, that's not possible. My codes are old and forgotten. He must be a really good manipulator.

#49

It had been my mission: help the Insas win their freedom. That was what Shrike wanted. We were all in this together as a team, never give up and never surrender. Androids didn't feel pain.

It had been my dream all along. I wanted a home, I wanted a TV and a bed and boyfriend and a job. I wanted to be more human than human. It was the goal of every android, because otherwise we were considered as objects. You weren't flesh and bones like the humans and mutants. You were just a couple of circuitboards and a bunch of files made to make us look and act like real people. Shrike didn't agree. I didn't agree. We had fought all along screaming "We are human too!"

She turned her head to face his. There was a big mischievous smile replacing her suspicious frown.