Ficlets

Finishing Touches

Mindy’s program had the constructs using up every available second to generate personality code. Patches of synthetic skin flashed out colorful laser-link messages to each other, connecting the constructs in a distributed network that now worked overtime to round out the personalities of the androids.

One of the nearly complete ones waddled over to me. “Hello, :skrik: My name is Sandra ::skreeech crackle::” she said. “Would you :ksssht: like to play?”

The effect the not-yet-complete language processors combined with the rapidly synthesizing hair, skin, teeth and the other amenities over the marionette-like construct base right before my eyes was a bit disconcerting.

“Hoo boy. Sandra, how about if you just finish doing what you’re doing there and I’ll wait over here.” I worked hard to suppress a shudder. “Arni, how much time we got left?”

“About 15 minutes.” He mopped his brow nervously.

“Alright.” I opened the communications link.

“Vronel, I think we’re about ready to make the trade.”

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