Poem: "A Dangerous Thing to Be a Doll"
Oct. 24th, 2020 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem is spillover from the September 1, 2020 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from dialecticdreamer. It also fills the "Mobility Impairment" square in my 9-1-20 card for the I Want Fries With That! Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with ng_moonmoth. It belongs to the China's Mistake and Finn Family threads of the Polychrome Heroics series.
WARNING: This poem contains material that may disturb many readers. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. WARN ALL THE THINGS! It includes the aftermath of international mayhem, computer hacking, China's cesspit of a darknet now exposed by the fall of the Great Firewall, loneliness, fear, derealization, slavery, sapient AI sexbots including teenbots and pedobots, severe injury and paralysis, graphic description of the aftermath of sexual assault and physical abuse, nausea, benevolent spying, on people who turn out to be wearing not nearly enough clothes, AI in an inert body, assistance in breaking people out of bad situations without China's permission, teleporters raiding a bottom-ten country, but hey I think even Interpol is busy painting its nails while people deliver China's just desserts, a happy interspecies romance, melancholy, Chinese banks suffering from dither worms and crippling the economy, frustration, threats, being taken for granted, prostitution of sexbots, an assassin offering pro bono work (presumably against rapists and slavers), kinky wear, AI in a body made without any arms or legs, self-recrimination, worry, homosexual rape of an AI sexbot with a male body and heterosexual imprint, neglect, relationship between two sexbots, child abuse, pedobots wanting escape, Mallory coaxing Heron to take a break, Heron crying, and other mayhem. There is a lot of comfort and support along with the hurt, though. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before deciding whether this is something you want to read. Abuse survivors should think twice before reading it. However, this opens a major storyline in China's Mistake, so skipping it would leave a big gap.
"A Dangerous Thing to Be a Doll"
[Saturday, January 23, 2016 shortly after 9 AM at a compound in Italy]
[Saturday, January 23, 2016 shortly after 4 PM in China]
Heron settled himself in front of
the computer graciously furnished
by their hosts and turned it on.
Given the chaos following
the blackout in China, he had
volunteered to help with first aid
so long as it would not compromise
the safety of himself or his family.
Capricorn had provided him with
a secure connection, a skimmer program
to help him find relevant conversations,
and a relentlessly ordinary username
(John_Gray) for the purpose.
The skimmer would sort through
the morass that passed for a darknet
in China, searching for users who might
need help in the wake of the blackout.
For a while, the discussions that
Heron found seemed commonplace
for the circumstances -- people asking
each other about their respective safety
or where to find various resources.
Heron politely ignored the personal ones
and did his best to answer topical queries.
Then the skimmer brought up Sī Sū Mō,
a Chinese darknet chat service with
both public and private options
in a variety of languages.
The title of the site meant
Think, Awake, Touch --
although the last word
could also mean Steal.
Heron concentrated on
the conversations in English,
but there was something ...
just a little odd about them.
Dusty_Moon: Everything
was so quiet, it was like being
the only thing left in the world.
The_Explorer: Yes. It made me
wonder if the rest of the world
was even still there. Now I know
it is, and I want to go see it.
Dusty_Moon: That might be
possible now. Even some of
the real people are fleeing,
Uighurs and such. They
might not notice an extra.
Brokendown: You should
do it, The_Explorer. I would
go with you if I could still move.
Heron had instructions on
how to help anyone who wanted
to leave China, so he chimed in.
John_Gray: There are always
opportunities to go somewhere new.
Brokendown, were you injured
during the recent blackout?
Brokendown: I don't know.
Maybe? My owner used me
a lot then, but he damaged
so much of me months ago
that I can't detect new flaws.
I haven't been fully functional
below the neck in over a year.
The bizarre phrasing combined
with accusations of abuse
made Heron feel queasy.
Something about it wasn't
quite right, and he needed
more information than he
could get from the text alone.
Heron had sworn up and down that
he didn't want or need the spyware
in the skimmer program and certainly
wouldn't use it, but Capricorn had
gently insisted on including it anyway
and said Heron didn't have to use it.
Heron possibly owed him an apology.
With a sigh, he activated the feature
that would pick up video feed if
the user had left a camera on.
A nude girl lay sprawled on the bed,
black hair fanned over golden shoulders.
Her arms and legs were twisted around
at grotesque angles, and the hilt of a knife
still protruded from a delicate place.
It took Heron a moment to realize
that there was no blood, that he could
see glints of metal framework where
some of the soft synthetic flesh had
been gouged out in chunks.
The head remained active, though,
almond-shaped brown eyes tracking
the light and shadows in the room.
It was some sort of robot, Heron realized,
designed to look like a teenage girl and
evidently intelligent enough to chat online.
His stomach flopped over at the thought
of what had been done to her, but he
didn't have time for that right now.
John_Gray: What kind of care
do you need to repair the damage?
Brokendown: I need a new body.
Most of this one is malfunctioning.
Even if my owner would allow it, though,
I'm afraid to try. Sometimes it doesn't
work right and the personality gets lost.
Floating_Lotus: You don't need a new body,
Brokendown, you just need the right partner.
My husband is wonderful. He doesn't mind
that my body is inert. He takes good care of me.
We've talked about upgrading to a mobile body,
but like you, we were afraid that it might fail.
John_Gray: There are many ways to manage
injuries, even paralysis. What you choose is
up to you. If anyone needs an escape route,
then I can help make the arrangements.
Brokendown: I would love to escape,
whether or not my body ever works again.
Heron hit the emergency key and sent
a message to the teleporters. There
was no shortage of people wanting
to strike back at China for its misdeeds.
Floating_Lotus: I could never leave
my husband. He needs me as much as
I need him, after his first wife passed away.
We have come to love each other very much.
Heron hoped it was true, but after seeing
what had happened to Brokendown,
he needed confirmation. So he
used the camera function again.
Unlike Brokendown, Floating_Lotus
sat in a wheelchair in front of a computer,
and she seemed to be in her twenties.
Her long brown hair was perfectly combed,
her pink-and-yellow dress clean and tidy.
A delicate necklace glinted at her throat.
Someone had certainly taken loving care
with her appearance and her comfort.
John_Gray: I'm glad to hear that you
and your husband are happy together.
Are you both safe where you are?
There has been a lot of chaos.
Floating_Lotus: I'm not sure.
My husband is a politician, but he
is not like all the important people.
He just tries to take care of our town.
John_Gray: I have some resources
in case things get less safe there.
Heron sent her the standard packet
he'd been given for people who might
want to leave China, though he wasn't
sure how helpful that would be for
someone who wasn't human.
Brokendown has left the chat.
A new window opened on
Heron's screen, notifying him
that a teleporter had picked her up
and taken her to a safe place.
No matter how messed up
things were, at least he had
done one good thing today.
The_Explorer: Do you
really have a way out?
Dusty_Moon: I'm tempted,
too, but I'm scared. Things
aren't unbearable here.
That probably meant things
weren't very good either.
Heron checked the cameras.
Dusty_Moon was kneeling
in front of a laptop, wearing
a set of lacy pink lingerie.
She had fair skin and
soft brown hair. Like
Brokendown, she looked
to be in her mid-teens, but
she did not seem injured.
The_Explorer sat in
an antique chair. She had
golden skin and long black hair
with a russet hat that did not
match her pale blue blouse.
It was the melancholy expression
on her face that worried Heron.
That could simply be her nature as
a robot, but she looked as unhappy
as she sounded, never mind
the lack of visible injuries.
Heron bumped The_Explorer
higher up the priority list for
someone to check in detail, and
filed Dusty_Moon underneath.
Pageturner: Does anyone know
what's going on with the banks?
My whole office building is in
an uproar over the accounts.
Green_Bamboo: I don't know
what or why, but it's affecting me too.
I need things that I can't buy now.
Pageturner: Something has
damaged the bookkeeping so
there are small discrepancies
in many accounts, and the banks
have to balance before they can work.
Nobody seems to know how, though.
Green_Bamboo: Well, they better
fix it soon. My owner is threatening
mayhem if the auspicious houseplants
don't arrive before New Year next month.
Pageturner: At least it's not something
you care a lot about, and he won't
hurt you because then he'd have
to do all the work himself.
John_Gray: You don't like
your job? What's wrong with it?
Green_Bamboo: It could be
worse, but a lot of it is just stupid.
Pageturner: I don't mind working
in an office, but I wish people would
appreciate what I do. They take me
for granted, and I don't like that.
Green_Bamboo: At least you like
reading and you can download books
between tasks. If my hands aren't moving,
anyone can see that I'm not working, and
I only get to indulge in flower arranging
when my owner wants to display it.
John_Gray: There are better jobs
in other places. What would you
like to do, if you could do anything?
Green_Bamboo: I want to be
a fashion model. I'm pretty enough.
I prefer practical clothes, though.
Pageturner: I could work in
any kind of business office,
maybe a library or bookstore.
Heron used the camera function
to sneak a peek at them.
Pageturner sat at a computer,
hands typing with amazing speed.
She had fair skin and long wavy brown hair
and seemed to be in her twenties. She
wore a white blouse with a tie that matched
her pinstripe skirt, but the thin cloth was
stretched tight over a large bosom.
It was her glasses, though, that
made Heron start to worry.
The lenses were clear, but
the thick black frames concealed
electronics for recording or projecting
images. He recognized the style from
the list of examples he'd been shown.
Heron sent an alert to Security
in case Pageturner tried to trace
the connection he was using.
If she wasn't a threat, she'd get
the same offer of extraction that
the others would be getting.
When Heron checked on
Green_Bamboo, he found
a form similar to Pageturner
but with black hair, clad only in
lingerie of muted green and pink.
Satisfied that Green_Bamboo
wasn't in immediate danger, he
added her to the bottom of the list.
Surely someone would want to hire
a fashion model for practical clothes.
The_Explorer has left the chat.
Dusty_Moon has left the chat.
Apparently his efforts were paying off.
Silk_Fan: I heard there was a discussion
of opportunities for relocation and employment.
I am an entertainer, and I enjoy my work, but
I would prefer a different location and clientele.
Elegant_Hairpin: I am more interested in
news from outside. My owner is a diplomat
and my work includes international politics.
The past few days have been harsh, but
I am undecided about whether to leave.
Pageturner and Elegant_Hairpin
promptly got into an avid conversation
about economics and politics that
went right over Heron's head.
Heron left them to it, instead
focusing on the other newcomer.
John_Gray: What kind of entertaining
do you do currently, Silk_Fan? I enjoy
partaking of several different arts.
Silk_Fan: I am accomplished in
dance, music, poetry, calligraphy,
painting, and of course erotic skills. I
provide sophisticated conversation and
companionship for discerning gentlemen.
That remark dashed any hope Heron
had left that the robots were being used
for domestic work instead of sex slaves.
Quickly punching up the camera again,
he was startled by the resulting images.
Silk_Fan sat in an opulent room with
duck-egg walls and elegant antiques.
She wore a traditional Chinese dress of
deep earth tones that matched the room
and also offset her wavy dark brown hair and
pale golden skin. Her hair was held back
with pearl ornaments, and she had
a pearl necklace at her throat.
The sophisticated bearing made
her seem a little older than the others,
late twenties or perhaps early thirties.
Silk_Fan looked calm and patient,
her hands graceful on the keyboard,
but if she wanted out, then Heron
would help her get out of there.
Elegant_Hairpin looked
only a little younger, but just
as poised. She was paler with
deep red hair fastened with jade pins
and she wore a dress of green silk
scattered with pink flowers.
She was in an office with
fine wood furnishings and
seemed to be communicating
with the computer wirelessly
even though she could move.
On Heron's screen, another window
opened: Pageturner is clean so far.
That was reassuring to know.
He added both new names to the list,
placing Silk_Fan closer to the top. Since
Elegant_Hairpin described herself as
undecided, her case was less urgent.
John_Gray: It sounds like you could
find work in many places, Silk_Fan.
Resources are available to assist.
Heron sent the support packet
to her and to Elegant_Hairpin.
Green_Bamboo: Well, not everyone
is as lucky as those of us on here.
Subtle_Edge: If anyone needs
help in overcoming difficulties, I am
doing some charity work this week.
A red frame surrounded the last comment,
then slid aside to become a window that read,
Subtle_Edge is an international assassin.
Avoid if possible; engage only with caution.
Since the assassin in question seemed
to be offering to kill rapists and slavers,
Heron was somewhat less daunted than
he might be under different circumstances.
He tried the camera function, but unsurprisingly,
the camera on that computer was turned off.
Heron was still dithering over whether to use
the more assertive and less ethical option of
turning the camera on when another message
appeared on his screen along with a picture:
Visual feed unavailable. See prior image.
A slim woman with voluptuous curves wore
a barely-there costume of studded black leather,
or possibly krevel. Even her long dark hair
looked oddly leathery, and she held
a long, curving sword in her hands.
With her pale skin, brown hair,
and large eyes she could pass
unremarked in much of the world.
Pistachio_Mochi: It's generous of you
to offer, Subtle_Edge, but please remember
that some people are content where they are,
even if their tastes seem strange to others.
Heron checked, and this camera was on.
Pistachio_Mochi resembled a woman in
her twenties, but with a more realistic figure
than some of the other ones did. She had
golden skin and long straight brown hair.
She wore some sort of complicated harness
of black leather, although she had thrown
a purple T-shirt over the upper part.
Her hands on the keyboard were
covered in fingerless black gloves
that reached to her shoulders.
The room around her was worrying --
actually, it looked like the inside of
a shipping container -- but she
seemed calm and relaxed.
Maybe she just did the kind
of work that got messy enough
to benefit from having smooth walls
and floor that were easy to clean.
Heron was sure he didn't want
to know about that, as long as
Pistachio_Mochi wasn't hurt by it.
He sent the info packet to Pistachio_Mochi,
just in case she needed help after all.
Green_Bamboo: Doesn't matter much
if some people who need a way out
can't even reach for it themselves.
Unless you're offering to carry
them out, Subtle_Edge?
Because that'd be useful.
Subtle_Edge: Not my scene.
I surmount difficulties; I don't
transport victims to safety.
John_Gray: Teamwork is
a virtue. There are others
prepared to provide transport
as necessary. Does anyone
know someone who needs it?
Floating_Lotus: Yes, somebody
should check on Still_Life. She's been
talking to me in private chat, and things are
hard -- her owner is ignoring her for work.
Pageturner: Lots of people are focusing
more on work after the blackout, because
everything is going crazy all at once.
Green_Bamboo: But at least you
have things to do. Still_Life doesn't.
Still_Life: It's not so bad. We all
know someone who's better off
and someone who's worse off.
Heron used the camera function
to check on her, but the angle was odd --
she wasn't sitting at a computer, so
she must be using it wirelessly.
It took him a minute to figure out
that he was looking at a torso without
arms or legs, ending in rounded knobs,
clad in lacy pink lingerie. She was
propped against a pillow on the bed,
much like an oversized doll.
Frowning, Heron realized that
Still_Life was another model who
resembled a teenage girl, this time
with fair skin and long brown hair.
It made him furious to think that
she had been built that way,
not abused into malfunction like
Brokendown, dependent on
her owner for every need,
unable even to push him
away if he mistreated her.
Hastily Heron added her
to the top of the list, hoping
that the teleporters could
come to her rescue soon.
Heron had told Capricorn that
he had plenty of experience with
manning helplines and could handle
anything that came his way.
Heron had possibly been
an idiot and definitely owed
Capricorn another apology.
Also if Capricorn was dealing
with things like this, then Heron
should drop a hint with Da soon
to make sure Capricorn was okay.
Meanwhile, Heron could check on him
personally. He typed a message
and sent it on a private line.
Don't worry about me, Heron,
sent Capricorn. I deal with
trauma often. I will be fine.
So does Da, but what happened
to Shale still had him throwing up
in the ocean, Heron replied. You
can't blame me for worrying.
Worry all you like, just don't
interrupt my work, Capricorn sent.
Oh yeah, it was definitely time
to tip Da that someone should
go and check on Capricorn.
The poor guy probably needed
a cup of soup, a lap cat, and
a small mountain of Microfyne.
Then again, so did Heron, but
he still had a chat to monitor.
Pistachio_Mochi: Hey,
has anyone heard from
Brokendown recently?
Year_of_the_Goat: Yes,
she arrived safely and is now
exploring options for necessary care.
After she has received decent clothes
and other immediate needs, she will
be available for chat. She wants
her friends to know she's okay.
Heron heaved a sigh. That
came as a huge relief to him.
Elegant_Hairpin: If we are
discussing difficult situations,
remember The_Silver_Ghost and
Out_of_Place. They're miserable.
John_Gray: I'm sorry to hear that.
May I ask what happened to them?
Elegant_Hairpin: Out_of_Place was
designed to comfort lonely women; he
is good at it and enjoys it. Sadly, after
his first owner died, he was sold to a man
who expects him to fall down like rain,
but Out_of_Place only desires women.
That made it rape, if his owner was
forcing him to do things he didn't want.
Heron put Out_of_Place on the list of
people needing rescue, with a note that
this was a referral from another user and
not someone currently in the chat.
John_Gray: What a terrible situation.
I hope that he gets the support he needs.
Elegant_Hairpin: Well, he has some.
The_Silver_Ghost has offered him comfort.
She was made to provide love and care
for lonely men, but her owner views her
as little more than an appliance. So
The_Silver_Ghost and Out_of_Place
care for each other's needs instead.
Heron shivered. If he had any doubt
about the robots being people, that
was wiped away by them reaching out
to help each other when they were
not following any kind of program.
Floating_Lotus: All of us are
dependent in our own ways,
and that leaves us vulnerable.
I know that I am fortunate
in a husband who loves me
and treats me as a wife
instead of just a doll.
Still_Life: It is an anxious,
sometimes a dangerous thing
to be a doll. Dolls cannot choose;
they can only be chosen. They cannot
'do;' they can only be done by.
Heron clamped his hands
between his knees for a moment
before he could respond to that:
they were starting to shake.
John_Gray: Everyone needs
agency, needs to make choices
that matter. Even children need that --
especially children, who are just learning
who they are. They need adults to show
them how to make safe little choices
to practice for bigger ones later.
Green_Bamboo: Oh shit,
the childbots! Did anyone
think to check on them?
Heron's stomach lurched.
Oh, this was so much worse
than any of the earlier issues.
Pistachio_Mochi: I haven't heard
from any of them since the blackout,
but then they tend to focus on the ones
closer to their own programming level,
like Dusty_Moon and The_Explorer.
Green_Bamboo: Earlier today,
Dusty_Moon and The_Explorer
were on, but they both left the chat.
Brokendown is offline as well.
Pageturner: Is Still_Life here?
She knows some of them.
Still_Life: I am here. Where
else would I be, anyway? After
the blackout, I have only chatted
with Joyluck and So_Pink.
Green_Bamboo: Reach out
to them. If anyone deserves
to escape in the chaos, it's them.
Still_Life: I don't know ... it's
one thing to chat if they come
online themselves, but I don't
want to get them in trouble.
Floating_Lotus: They may
be too scared or distracted
to think of it like usual. You
should try to contact them
if you have other methods.
Still_Life: All right, I'll try.
Green_Bamboo: We'll help
if you can get them here.
Floating_Lotus: My husband
has come home from work early.
He says we are going to visit
his relatives in Hong Kong.
I will talk to you all later.
Moments later, a note read,
Floating_Lotus has left the chat.
Heron hoped that they would
make it off the mainland safely.
It sounded like her husband
had connections of his own.
So_Pink: How is everyone?
The blackout didn't really reach
our little corner of nowhere, but
people are still upset over it.
Green_Bamboo: I'm as fine
as I ever am. The only impact
on gardening is I can't order
decorative plants that I need
because of related hassles.
Heron bit his lip, then used
the camera function again.
So_Pink was tiny and pale,
with big brown eyes sheened
in violet. Her long straight hair
was pink as cotton candy.
She looked about 7 years old.
She wore a frilly white top and
had her laptop in her lap.
Heron didn't care that
she had no visible injuries.
He hit the emergency button.
Then he rubbed his hands over
his face, trying to quell the nausea.
Joyluck: I heard that there were
new people talking about safety.
Is there really a way out?
Green_Bamboo: Yeah, it
looks like several folks have
already escaped. There's
a packet of information --
I can send you a copy.
Joyluck: No, it's not safe.
I have to use his computer.
If he saw that, it would be bad.
John_Gray: There are other ways
to get people to safety discreetly.
Heron discovered that her camera
was already on and facing her.
Joyluck was even smaller than
So_Pink, with a pinched waifish look
that made her seem about 6 years old.
She had pale skin and straight brown hair
that fell to her shoulders. She wore
a plain navy outfit and lacy white socks.
Just looking at her made Heron feel
even queasier. He hit the emergency key
with more force than strictly necessary,
but it didn't make him feel any better.
So_Pink has left the chat.
Okay, that helped a little.
Heron rubbed his eyes.
A new message appeared
on Heron's screen that read,
So_Pink is safe. She and
Joyluck will be routed to
our friends who handle
younger survivors in need.
It made sense for the Marionettes
to handle the childbots, while
Kraken handled the teenbots,
but it was still going to be
pretty hard on everyone.
At least they would be safer
than they had been in China.
Heron was surprised and
disturbed by how many
of the sexbots there were.
He had known that fancy toys
were made, but he had thought
they were just machines.
Artificial intelligence --
the real thing, not simply
the best adaptive programs --
was rare and obscure.
Yet somehow, here they
were, alive and bright in
the wake of the changes
sweeping across China.
Someone would have
to look into that, but it
was outside his skillset.
Also his hands were
shaking worse than ever.
Heron took a drink from
his forgotten water bottle,
trying to settle a stomach
that just wouldn't calm down.
Soft footsteps made him look up.
"Are you okay?" Mallory said,
leaning over him in concern.
"Not ... even ... close,"
Heron confessed.
"Right, then you're
done for now," she said,
reaching around him to log off.
John_Gray has left the chat.
"Hey," he protested weakly.
"I still have more work to do."
"Nope," Mallory said. "The rules
are, you can work as long as
you're comfortable, but if you
start to get upset, then
it's time to tag out."
She tapped the counter
on the screen that showed
the allowed time for working
on the helpline, and it was
actually in the yellow.
Well. He couldn't
argue with that one
without undoing months
of the family's hard work
modeling good habits.
"I guess you have
a point," he conceded.
"Come take a break
and play with Dairinne,"
said Mallory. "Maybe
then you'll feel better."
"Yeah," Heron said.
"That's a good idea."
And if his face was
a little wet, nobody'd
notice him drying it
in his daughter's hair.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes will appear elsewhere. Be aware that most of the character images are NSFW.
dialecticdreamer. It also fills the "Mobility Impairment" square in my 9-1-20 card for the I Want Fries With That! Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with ng_moonmoth. It belongs to the China's Mistake and Finn Family threads of the Polychrome Heroics series.WARNING: This poem contains material that may disturb many readers. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. WARN ALL THE THINGS! It includes the aftermath of international mayhem, computer hacking, China's cesspit of a darknet now exposed by the fall of the Great Firewall, loneliness, fear, derealization, slavery, sapient AI sexbots including teenbots and pedobots, severe injury and paralysis, graphic description of the aftermath of sexual assault and physical abuse, nausea, benevolent spying, on people who turn out to be wearing not nearly enough clothes, AI in an inert body, assistance in breaking people out of bad situations without China's permission, teleporters raiding a bottom-ten country, but hey I think even Interpol is busy painting its nails while people deliver China's just desserts, a happy interspecies romance, melancholy, Chinese banks suffering from dither worms and crippling the economy, frustration, threats, being taken for granted, prostitution of sexbots, an assassin offering pro bono work (presumably against rapists and slavers), kinky wear, AI in a body made without any arms or legs, self-recrimination, worry, homosexual rape of an AI sexbot with a male body and heterosexual imprint, neglect, relationship between two sexbots, child abuse, pedobots wanting escape, Mallory coaxing Heron to take a break, Heron crying, and other mayhem. There is a lot of comfort and support along with the hurt, though. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before deciding whether this is something you want to read. Abuse survivors should think twice before reading it. However, this opens a major storyline in China's Mistake, so skipping it would leave a big gap.
"A Dangerous Thing to Be a Doll"
[Saturday, January 23, 2016 shortly after 9 AM at a compound in Italy]
[Saturday, January 23, 2016 shortly after 4 PM in China]
Heron settled himself in front of
the computer graciously furnished
by their hosts and turned it on.
Given the chaos following
the blackout in China, he had
volunteered to help with first aid
so long as it would not compromise
the safety of himself or his family.
Capricorn had provided him with
a secure connection, a skimmer program
to help him find relevant conversations,
and a relentlessly ordinary username
(John_Gray) for the purpose.
The skimmer would sort through
the morass that passed for a darknet
in China, searching for users who might
need help in the wake of the blackout.
For a while, the discussions that
Heron found seemed commonplace
for the circumstances -- people asking
each other about their respective safety
or where to find various resources.
Heron politely ignored the personal ones
and did his best to answer topical queries.
Then the skimmer brought up Sī Sū Mō,
a Chinese darknet chat service with
both public and private options
in a variety of languages.
The title of the site meant
Think, Awake, Touch --
although the last word
could also mean Steal.
Heron concentrated on
the conversations in English,
but there was something ...
just a little odd about them.
Dusty_Moon: Everything
was so quiet, it was like being
the only thing left in the world.
The_Explorer: Yes. It made me
wonder if the rest of the world
was even still there. Now I know
it is, and I want to go see it.
Dusty_Moon: That might be
possible now. Even some of
the real people are fleeing,
Uighurs and such. They
might not notice an extra.
Brokendown: You should
do it, The_Explorer. I would
go with you if I could still move.
Heron had instructions on
how to help anyone who wanted
to leave China, so he chimed in.
John_Gray: There are always
opportunities to go somewhere new.
Brokendown, were you injured
during the recent blackout?
Brokendown: I don't know.
Maybe? My owner used me
a lot then, but he damaged
so much of me months ago
that I can't detect new flaws.
I haven't been fully functional
below the neck in over a year.
The bizarre phrasing combined
with accusations of abuse
made Heron feel queasy.
Something about it wasn't
quite right, and he needed
more information than he
could get from the text alone.
Heron had sworn up and down that
he didn't want or need the spyware
in the skimmer program and certainly
wouldn't use it, but Capricorn had
gently insisted on including it anyway
and said Heron didn't have to use it.
Heron possibly owed him an apology.
With a sigh, he activated the feature
that would pick up video feed if
the user had left a camera on.
A nude girl lay sprawled on the bed,
black hair fanned over golden shoulders.
Her arms and legs were twisted around
at grotesque angles, and the hilt of a knife
still protruded from a delicate place.
It took Heron a moment to realize
that there was no blood, that he could
see glints of metal framework where
some of the soft synthetic flesh had
been gouged out in chunks.
The head remained active, though,
almond-shaped brown eyes tracking
the light and shadows in the room.
It was some sort of robot, Heron realized,
designed to look like a teenage girl and
evidently intelligent enough to chat online.
His stomach flopped over at the thought
of what had been done to her, but he
didn't have time for that right now.
John_Gray: What kind of care
do you need to repair the damage?
Brokendown: I need a new body.
Most of this one is malfunctioning.
Even if my owner would allow it, though,
I'm afraid to try. Sometimes it doesn't
work right and the personality gets lost.
Floating_Lotus: You don't need a new body,
Brokendown, you just need the right partner.
My husband is wonderful. He doesn't mind
that my body is inert. He takes good care of me.
We've talked about upgrading to a mobile body,
but like you, we were afraid that it might fail.
John_Gray: There are many ways to manage
injuries, even paralysis. What you choose is
up to you. If anyone needs an escape route,
then I can help make the arrangements.
Brokendown: I would love to escape,
whether or not my body ever works again.
Heron hit the emergency key and sent
a message to the teleporters. There
was no shortage of people wanting
to strike back at China for its misdeeds.
Floating_Lotus: I could never leave
my husband. He needs me as much as
I need him, after his first wife passed away.
We have come to love each other very much.
Heron hoped it was true, but after seeing
what had happened to Brokendown,
he needed confirmation. So he
used the camera function again.
Unlike Brokendown, Floating_Lotus
sat in a wheelchair in front of a computer,
and she seemed to be in her twenties.
Her long brown hair was perfectly combed,
her pink-and-yellow dress clean and tidy.
A delicate necklace glinted at her throat.
Someone had certainly taken loving care
with her appearance and her comfort.
John_Gray: I'm glad to hear that you
and your husband are happy together.
Are you both safe where you are?
There has been a lot of chaos.
Floating_Lotus: I'm not sure.
My husband is a politician, but he
is not like all the important people.
He just tries to take care of our town.
John_Gray: I have some resources
in case things get less safe there.
Heron sent her the standard packet
he'd been given for people who might
want to leave China, though he wasn't
sure how helpful that would be for
someone who wasn't human.
Brokendown has left the chat.
A new window opened on
Heron's screen, notifying him
that a teleporter had picked her up
and taken her to a safe place.
No matter how messed up
things were, at least he had
done one good thing today.
The_Explorer: Do you
really have a way out?
Dusty_Moon: I'm tempted,
too, but I'm scared. Things
aren't unbearable here.
That probably meant things
weren't very good either.
Heron checked the cameras.
Dusty_Moon was kneeling
in front of a laptop, wearing
a set of lacy pink lingerie.
She had fair skin and
soft brown hair. Like
Brokendown, she looked
to be in her mid-teens, but
she did not seem injured.
The_Explorer sat in
an antique chair. She had
golden skin and long black hair
with a russet hat that did not
match her pale blue blouse.
It was the melancholy expression
on her face that worried Heron.
That could simply be her nature as
a robot, but she looked as unhappy
as she sounded, never mind
the lack of visible injuries.
Heron bumped The_Explorer
higher up the priority list for
someone to check in detail, and
filed Dusty_Moon underneath.
Pageturner: Does anyone know
what's going on with the banks?
My whole office building is in
an uproar over the accounts.
Green_Bamboo: I don't know
what or why, but it's affecting me too.
I need things that I can't buy now.
Pageturner: Something has
damaged the bookkeeping so
there are small discrepancies
in many accounts, and the banks
have to balance before they can work.
Nobody seems to know how, though.
Green_Bamboo: Well, they better
fix it soon. My owner is threatening
mayhem if the auspicious houseplants
don't arrive before New Year next month.
Pageturner: At least it's not something
you care a lot about, and he won't
hurt you because then he'd have
to do all the work himself.
John_Gray: You don't like
your job? What's wrong with it?
Green_Bamboo: It could be
worse, but a lot of it is just stupid.
Pageturner: I don't mind working
in an office, but I wish people would
appreciate what I do. They take me
for granted, and I don't like that.
Green_Bamboo: At least you like
reading and you can download books
between tasks. If my hands aren't moving,
anyone can see that I'm not working, and
I only get to indulge in flower arranging
when my owner wants to display it.
John_Gray: There are better jobs
in other places. What would you
like to do, if you could do anything?
Green_Bamboo: I want to be
a fashion model. I'm pretty enough.
I prefer practical clothes, though.
Pageturner: I could work in
any kind of business office,
maybe a library or bookstore.
Heron used the camera function
to sneak a peek at them.
Pageturner sat at a computer,
hands typing with amazing speed.
She had fair skin and long wavy brown hair
and seemed to be in her twenties. She
wore a white blouse with a tie that matched
her pinstripe skirt, but the thin cloth was
stretched tight over a large bosom.
It was her glasses, though, that
made Heron start to worry.
The lenses were clear, but
the thick black frames concealed
electronics for recording or projecting
images. He recognized the style from
the list of examples he'd been shown.
Heron sent an alert to Security
in case Pageturner tried to trace
the connection he was using.
If she wasn't a threat, she'd get
the same offer of extraction that
the others would be getting.
When Heron checked on
Green_Bamboo, he found
a form similar to Pageturner
but with black hair, clad only in
lingerie of muted green and pink.
Satisfied that Green_Bamboo
wasn't in immediate danger, he
added her to the bottom of the list.
Surely someone would want to hire
a fashion model for practical clothes.
The_Explorer has left the chat.
Dusty_Moon has left the chat.
Apparently his efforts were paying off.
Silk_Fan: I heard there was a discussion
of opportunities for relocation and employment.
I am an entertainer, and I enjoy my work, but
I would prefer a different location and clientele.
Elegant_Hairpin: I am more interested in
news from outside. My owner is a diplomat
and my work includes international politics.
The past few days have been harsh, but
I am undecided about whether to leave.
Pageturner and Elegant_Hairpin
promptly got into an avid conversation
about economics and politics that
went right over Heron's head.
Heron left them to it, instead
focusing on the other newcomer.
John_Gray: What kind of entertaining
do you do currently, Silk_Fan? I enjoy
partaking of several different arts.
Silk_Fan: I am accomplished in
dance, music, poetry, calligraphy,
painting, and of course erotic skills. I
provide sophisticated conversation and
companionship for discerning gentlemen.
That remark dashed any hope Heron
had left that the robots were being used
for domestic work instead of sex slaves.
Quickly punching up the camera again,
he was startled by the resulting images.
Silk_Fan sat in an opulent room with
duck-egg walls and elegant antiques.
She wore a traditional Chinese dress of
deep earth tones that matched the room
and also offset her wavy dark brown hair and
pale golden skin. Her hair was held back
with pearl ornaments, and she had
a pearl necklace at her throat.
The sophisticated bearing made
her seem a little older than the others,
late twenties or perhaps early thirties.
Silk_Fan looked calm and patient,
her hands graceful on the keyboard,
but if she wanted out, then Heron
would help her get out of there.
Elegant_Hairpin looked
only a little younger, but just
as poised. She was paler with
deep red hair fastened with jade pins
and she wore a dress of green silk
scattered with pink flowers.
She was in an office with
fine wood furnishings and
seemed to be communicating
with the computer wirelessly
even though she could move.
On Heron's screen, another window
opened: Pageturner is clean so far.
That was reassuring to know.
He added both new names to the list,
placing Silk_Fan closer to the top. Since
Elegant_Hairpin described herself as
undecided, her case was less urgent.
John_Gray: It sounds like you could
find work in many places, Silk_Fan.
Resources are available to assist.
Heron sent the support packet
to her and to Elegant_Hairpin.
Green_Bamboo: Well, not everyone
is as lucky as those of us on here.
Subtle_Edge: If anyone needs
help in overcoming difficulties, I am
doing some charity work this week.
A red frame surrounded the last comment,
then slid aside to become a window that read,
Subtle_Edge is an international assassin.
Avoid if possible; engage only with caution.
Since the assassin in question seemed
to be offering to kill rapists and slavers,
Heron was somewhat less daunted than
he might be under different circumstances.
He tried the camera function, but unsurprisingly,
the camera on that computer was turned off.
Heron was still dithering over whether to use
the more assertive and less ethical option of
turning the camera on when another message
appeared on his screen along with a picture:
Visual feed unavailable. See prior image.
A slim woman with voluptuous curves wore
a barely-there costume of studded black leather,
or possibly krevel. Even her long dark hair
looked oddly leathery, and she held
a long, curving sword in her hands.
With her pale skin, brown hair,
and large eyes she could pass
unremarked in much of the world.
Pistachio_Mochi: It's generous of you
to offer, Subtle_Edge, but please remember
that some people are content where they are,
even if their tastes seem strange to others.
Heron checked, and this camera was on.
Pistachio_Mochi resembled a woman in
her twenties, but with a more realistic figure
than some of the other ones did. She had
golden skin and long straight brown hair.
She wore some sort of complicated harness
of black leather, although she had thrown
a purple T-shirt over the upper part.
Her hands on the keyboard were
covered in fingerless black gloves
that reached to her shoulders.
The room around her was worrying --
actually, it looked like the inside of
a shipping container -- but she
seemed calm and relaxed.
Maybe she just did the kind
of work that got messy enough
to benefit from having smooth walls
and floor that were easy to clean.
Heron was sure he didn't want
to know about that, as long as
Pistachio_Mochi wasn't hurt by it.
He sent the info packet to Pistachio_Mochi,
just in case she needed help after all.
Green_Bamboo: Doesn't matter much
if some people who need a way out
can't even reach for it themselves.
Unless you're offering to carry
them out, Subtle_Edge?
Because that'd be useful.
Subtle_Edge: Not my scene.
I surmount difficulties; I don't
transport victims to safety.
John_Gray: Teamwork is
a virtue. There are others
prepared to provide transport
as necessary. Does anyone
know someone who needs it?
Floating_Lotus: Yes, somebody
should check on Still_Life. She's been
talking to me in private chat, and things are
hard -- her owner is ignoring her for work.
Pageturner: Lots of people are focusing
more on work after the blackout, because
everything is going crazy all at once.
Green_Bamboo: But at least you
have things to do. Still_Life doesn't.
Still_Life: It's not so bad. We all
know someone who's better off
and someone who's worse off.
Heron used the camera function
to check on her, but the angle was odd --
she wasn't sitting at a computer, so
she must be using it wirelessly.
It took him a minute to figure out
that he was looking at a torso without
arms or legs, ending in rounded knobs,
clad in lacy pink lingerie. She was
propped against a pillow on the bed,
much like an oversized doll.
Frowning, Heron realized that
Still_Life was another model who
resembled a teenage girl, this time
with fair skin and long brown hair.
It made him furious to think that
she had been built that way,
not abused into malfunction like
Brokendown, dependent on
her owner for every need,
unable even to push him
away if he mistreated her.
Hastily Heron added her
to the top of the list, hoping
that the teleporters could
come to her rescue soon.
Heron had told Capricorn that
he had plenty of experience with
manning helplines and could handle
anything that came his way.
Heron had possibly been
an idiot and definitely owed
Capricorn another apology.
Also if Capricorn was dealing
with things like this, then Heron
should drop a hint with Da soon
to make sure Capricorn was okay.
Meanwhile, Heron could check on him
personally. He typed a message
and sent it on a private line.
Don't worry about me, Heron,
sent Capricorn. I deal with
trauma often. I will be fine.
So does Da, but what happened
to Shale still had him throwing up
in the ocean, Heron replied. You
can't blame me for worrying.
Worry all you like, just don't
interrupt my work, Capricorn sent.
Oh yeah, it was definitely time
to tip Da that someone should
go and check on Capricorn.
The poor guy probably needed
a cup of soup, a lap cat, and
a small mountain of Microfyne.
Then again, so did Heron, but
he still had a chat to monitor.
Pistachio_Mochi: Hey,
has anyone heard from
Brokendown recently?
Year_of_the_Goat: Yes,
she arrived safely and is now
exploring options for necessary care.
After she has received decent clothes
and other immediate needs, she will
be available for chat. She wants
her friends to know she's okay.
Heron heaved a sigh. That
came as a huge relief to him.
Elegant_Hairpin: If we are
discussing difficult situations,
remember The_Silver_Ghost and
Out_of_Place. They're miserable.
John_Gray: I'm sorry to hear that.
May I ask what happened to them?
Elegant_Hairpin: Out_of_Place was
designed to comfort lonely women; he
is good at it and enjoys it. Sadly, after
his first owner died, he was sold to a man
who expects him to fall down like rain,
but Out_of_Place only desires women.
That made it rape, if his owner was
forcing him to do things he didn't want.
Heron put Out_of_Place on the list of
people needing rescue, with a note that
this was a referral from another user and
not someone currently in the chat.
John_Gray: What a terrible situation.
I hope that he gets the support he needs.
Elegant_Hairpin: Well, he has some.
The_Silver_Ghost has offered him comfort.
She was made to provide love and care
for lonely men, but her owner views her
as little more than an appliance. So
The_Silver_Ghost and Out_of_Place
care for each other's needs instead.
Heron shivered. If he had any doubt
about the robots being people, that
was wiped away by them reaching out
to help each other when they were
not following any kind of program.
Floating_Lotus: All of us are
dependent in our own ways,
and that leaves us vulnerable.
I know that I am fortunate
in a husband who loves me
and treats me as a wife
instead of just a doll.
Still_Life: It is an anxious,
sometimes a dangerous thing
to be a doll. Dolls cannot choose;
they can only be chosen. They cannot
'do;' they can only be done by.
Heron clamped his hands
between his knees for a moment
before he could respond to that:
they were starting to shake.
John_Gray: Everyone needs
agency, needs to make choices
that matter. Even children need that --
especially children, who are just learning
who they are. They need adults to show
them how to make safe little choices
to practice for bigger ones later.
Green_Bamboo: Oh shit,
the childbots! Did anyone
think to check on them?
Heron's stomach lurched.
Oh, this was so much worse
than any of the earlier issues.
Pistachio_Mochi: I haven't heard
from any of them since the blackout,
but then they tend to focus on the ones
closer to their own programming level,
like Dusty_Moon and The_Explorer.
Green_Bamboo: Earlier today,
Dusty_Moon and The_Explorer
were on, but they both left the chat.
Brokendown is offline as well.
Pageturner: Is Still_Life here?
She knows some of them.
Still_Life: I am here. Where
else would I be, anyway? After
the blackout, I have only chatted
with Joyluck and So_Pink.
Green_Bamboo: Reach out
to them. If anyone deserves
to escape in the chaos, it's them.
Still_Life: I don't know ... it's
one thing to chat if they come
online themselves, but I don't
want to get them in trouble.
Floating_Lotus: They may
be too scared or distracted
to think of it like usual. You
should try to contact them
if you have other methods.
Still_Life: All right, I'll try.
Green_Bamboo: We'll help
if you can get them here.
Floating_Lotus: My husband
has come home from work early.
He says we are going to visit
his relatives in Hong Kong.
I will talk to you all later.
Moments later, a note read,
Floating_Lotus has left the chat.
Heron hoped that they would
make it off the mainland safely.
It sounded like her husband
had connections of his own.
So_Pink: How is everyone?
The blackout didn't really reach
our little corner of nowhere, but
people are still upset over it.
Green_Bamboo: I'm as fine
as I ever am. The only impact
on gardening is I can't order
decorative plants that I need
because of related hassles.
Heron bit his lip, then used
the camera function again.
So_Pink was tiny and pale,
with big brown eyes sheened
in violet. Her long straight hair
was pink as cotton candy.
She looked about 7 years old.
She wore a frilly white top and
had her laptop in her lap.
Heron didn't care that
she had no visible injuries.
He hit the emergency button.
Then he rubbed his hands over
his face, trying to quell the nausea.
Joyluck: I heard that there were
new people talking about safety.
Is there really a way out?
Green_Bamboo: Yeah, it
looks like several folks have
already escaped. There's
a packet of information --
I can send you a copy.
Joyluck: No, it's not safe.
I have to use his computer.
If he saw that, it would be bad.
John_Gray: There are other ways
to get people to safety discreetly.
Heron discovered that her camera
was already on and facing her.
Joyluck was even smaller than
So_Pink, with a pinched waifish look
that made her seem about 6 years old.
She had pale skin and straight brown hair
that fell to her shoulders. She wore
a plain navy outfit and lacy white socks.
Just looking at her made Heron feel
even queasier. He hit the emergency key
with more force than strictly necessary,
but it didn't make him feel any better.
So_Pink has left the chat.
Okay, that helped a little.
Heron rubbed his eyes.
A new message appeared
on Heron's screen that read,
So_Pink is safe. She and
Joyluck will be routed to
our friends who handle
younger survivors in need.
It made sense for the Marionettes
to handle the childbots, while
Kraken handled the teenbots,
but it was still going to be
pretty hard on everyone.
At least they would be safer
than they had been in China.
Heron was surprised and
disturbed by how many
of the sexbots there were.
He had known that fancy toys
were made, but he had thought
they were just machines.
Artificial intelligence --
the real thing, not simply
the best adaptive programs --
was rare and obscure.
Yet somehow, here they
were, alive and bright in
the wake of the changes
sweeping across China.
Someone would have
to look into that, but it
was outside his skillset.
Also his hands were
shaking worse than ever.
Heron took a drink from
his forgotten water bottle,
trying to settle a stomach
that just wouldn't calm down.
Soft footsteps made him look up.
"Are you okay?" Mallory said,
leaning over him in concern.
"Not ... even ... close,"
Heron confessed.
"Right, then you're
done for now," she said,
reaching around him to log off.
John_Gray has left the chat.
"Hey," he protested weakly.
"I still have more work to do."
"Nope," Mallory said. "The rules
are, you can work as long as
you're comfortable, but if you
start to get upset, then
it's time to tag out."
She tapped the counter
on the screen that showed
the allowed time for working
on the helpline, and it was
actually in the yellow.
Well. He couldn't
argue with that one
without undoing months
of the family's hard work
modeling good habits.
"I guess you have
a point," he conceded.
"Come take a break
and play with Dairinne,"
said Mallory. "Maybe
then you'll feel better."
"Yeah," Heron said.
"That's a good idea."
And if his face was
a little wet, nobody'd
notice him drying it
in his daughter's hair.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes will appear elsewhere. Be aware that most of the character images are NSFW.
