Machine Man
Previous Page

Get the Machine Man serial

1 page per day — the way it was meant to be

Next Page
SOURCE P40 V2/6.
Machine Man (serial)

V1← Final →V3

Date: Fri May 1 07:35:19 2009 +0000

Page 40.

I made it to Lola’s table without crushing anything and smiled down at her. “Hi.”anything. “Hi,” I feltsaid. I was very happy to see her again. She was right: I had spent too longbeen at the lab.lab too long. I had forgotten what it wasfelt like to interact with people withoutjust for the pleasure of it.

“Hi.” Her cheeks reddened. Everyone in the cafe was staring at us. She bit her lip. “Take a goalseat.”

“No need.” I concentrated, and the Contours began to retract. When they finished, I was four foot tall. “I’m already in mind.


“Did you…” She swallowed. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yes. No problems. Well.” I reconsidered. “Actually, I almost killed someone. It’s the first time I’ve worn Contours in a real-world environment. It’s highlighted a few issues.”

“Con… Contours?”

“This model of legs I’m wearing. I have others.” Lola sucked in her breath. “Well—when I say legs, I mean transports. Most are more like tracks. One is a kind of drill.”

“Why is one a kind—”

“I don’t know.” I laughed, giddy. “The company gave me carte blanche and I got carried away.”

Lola’s eyes stopped on my fingers. I had meant to keep that hand out of sight. But I was nervous, and it had started fiddling with a salt shaker. My index finger was curled around the salt shaker three times. It was made of rubber. Actually, it was a black hydrocarbon polymer stretched over titanium, silicon, and quite a lot of copper. But to Lola, my fingers would have looked rubber. Like long, thin, highly flexible black sausages.

Lola Banks stared at them. I became embarrassed and moved them under the table. She looked at me through her eyelashes. When she spoke, her voice was low and throaty. “Charlie… what have you done to your fingers?”

“Well,” I said. “You know.”

“Show me.”

I glanced around, but the people eating at nearby tables were ignoring us, or pretending to. I placed my hand on the table.

Lola Banks sat rigid for a long time. It was like she wanted to touch my fingers, but didn’t dare. “Could you show me your legs?”

“Of course. I’d love to. Come back to Better Future and I’ll…” I could see from her expression that this was not what she meant.

“Privately,” she said.


Next Page
Previous Page


This is where site members post comments. If you're not a member, you can join here. There are all kinds of benefits, including moral superiority!

To post a comment, login or sign up!

Next Page
Previous Page