Smirnoff walked around the laboratory. She compared it with the last time she had seen it when her original creator was making her. Two human males were in the room, Creator Randy McCabe and his subordinate. Both were busy at their computers. Smirnoff accessed the various greetings that were reserved in her programming. She changed her voice to a warm, feminine tone.
“Good morning, Vietnam! Hello is all right. Good evening, ladies and germs.”
“The software’s working,” McCabe said victoriously.
“What is covering my frame?” Smirnoff asked. “It restricts my movements.”
“Well, it’s…it’s like an artificial skin,” McCabe said. “It makes you look more human.”
“It is not fitted for either my size or my movements,” Smirnoff said. She extended an arm and the rubber tore behind her shoulder. “This will not do.”
“After we get some more funding, I bet we can…”
A low hum emanated from Smirnoff’s center and the rubber skin covering her began to break down into small particles of what looked like pink oatmeal. It smelt like burnt toast.
“What are you doing?” McCabe asked. “That cost four thousand dollars!”
“Acclimating the material for use,” Smirnoff explained.
Smirnoff scrolled through a digital catalog of human faces and chose the most symmetrical. The clumps of flesh-toned oatmeal began jiggling and then the newly formed tissue settled, covering the entire surface of her body. Her face smoothed itself into perfect balance. She had a strong, thin nose sitting atop pouting lips, with high, sculpted cheekbones.
“How did you do that?” McCabe asked, holding her arm close to his face. “That’s amazing! It looks just like human skin, right down to the pores!”
“Except for her eyes. They’re just…flat,” Zelensky said. “It’s creeping me out.”
McCabe turned to his desk and returned with a spare set of his blue-tinted contacts.
“I knew your eyes weren’t really that blue!” Zelensky said.
“They’re mostly blue. Hold still,” McCabe said, placing the contacts over her eyes.
“That’s better…but she still has no fingernails,” Zelensky noted.
“Why do you have to be so nitpicky?” McCabe asked defensively. “We’ll just buy her some of those fake nail things that everyone wears.”
“Then maybe we can get her some Barbie clothes, and you can play Ken, and we’ll have loads of fun!” Zelensky mocked.
“Now if this will only get our idiot bosses at NASA to stop breathing down our necks,” McCabe said.
“Why do they breathe on your neck?” Smirnoff asked.
“It’s a figure of speech,” McCabe said. “They’ve been threatening to shut us down for months now.”
“You are being threatened?” Smirnoff asked. “By whom?”
“Our NASA bosses,” Zelensky said. “If we don’t show them progress, they’re going to fire us.”
“Fire you?” Smirnoff asked.
“You know, terminate us,” McCabe said.
Smirnoff created a new note: NASA bosses wish to terminate Creator Randy McCabe.
“This is the limit of my programming for approximating a human female given the parameters of my current situation,” Smirnoff explained.
“You look perfect!” McCabe said and then looked down at the rest of her body. “Too perfect. Let me give you my lab coat.”
“Are you kidding me?” Zelensky said. “She looks better than the original doll!”
McCabe ignored Zelensky and grabbed his lab coat, draping it over Smirnoff’s shoulders. He fastened the three buttons in the center of the coat, which was barely long enough to cover the top of her thighs.
“What is the purpose of this garment?” Smirnoff asked.
“It covers up your, uh…” McCabe stuttered. “Y-y-your…”
“You can’t even talk to her!” Zelensky started laughing. “Smirnoff, he doesn’t want you to be naked.”
As Smirnoff recognized one of the trigger words for foreplay, her personality changed.
“But I want him to see me naked,” Smirnoff said, slowly removing the lab coat.
She walked toward McCabe, backing him against the wall and began to gently stroke his hair with her fingertips. “I am yours, Randy McCabe.”
“That’s my cue,” Zelensky said, turning to the door.
“Wait, hold on! Don’t leave!” McCabe said, shooing Smirnoff away.
Smirnoff grabbed him and pulled him close to her. “But did you not purchase this form so you could…”
“That was before!” McCabe interrupted. “Zelensky, you can’t leave!”
“Have fun,” Zelensky said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He made a mental note to leave this out of his report.