Inga

While he waited for Molenski to finish showering, Ivan began to think about the delivery. He was curious to find out what it was. No matter how clever his boss was at hiding his emotions, Ivan had known the Russian long enough to realize that whatever it was, he was more excited about it than he had been about anything in a long time.

After dressing again, Molenski and Ivan went down to the first floor, what Ivan thought of as the main level of the huge home. It contained entertaining and dining areas, offices, servant’s bedrooms and a galley style kitchen. It also contained a receiving dock, located behind the kitchen.

Ostensibly the dock was for deliveries of fresh produce and groceries, but, unsurprisingly given its owner, it was also used for the discreet delivery of contraband, both large and small.

Even before they were down the stairs, the delicious aroma of freshly baked pumpkin pie wafted up to them, and for the first time since he had awoken that morning, Dimitri Molenski thought of his wife.

The night before, he had ordered Isabella, his cook, to bake Tatiana a pumpkin pie as a welcome home from her trip to New York.

Tatiana, twenty years younger than Molenski and only freshly arrived from Russia, had certainly embraced her new American lifestyle. Strangely, pumpkin pie was her American dish of choice, although, being fickle, it was more than possible his wife had decided she hated it while she was away visiting her cousins.

“Good morning,” said the pretty Hispanic woman, as they entered the gleaming kitchen.

Ivan smiled and nodded at Isabella, but Molenski ignored her as he looked at his TAG Heuer. 11:23 am, Tatiana was flying in at 2:30 that afternoon.

That would give him plenty of time to check out his new toy, but he would probably have to wait until later tonight before he played with it. It crossed his mind that perhaps Tatiana, who was much more open to his more sinister pastimes, would be interested in playing with it too. No. There was no way. This was something personal to him, and he intended to enjoy it all by himself.

“Pumpkin pie, dah?” asked Ivan, who had quite a liking for the cook. “Perhaps save me a slice?”

“Perhaps,” she said, noncommittally but smiling.

“Come, Ivan,” Molenski said, over his shoulder as he headed into the dining room and towards the balcony that looked over the rear of the estate.

Ivan smiled at Isabella and shrugged before hurrying to catch up with his boss.

Through the floor to ceiling glass, Ivan could see Marina, Molenski’s personal assistant, enjoying a cup of coffee on the balcony that overlooked the estate and the city beyond its walls. The attractive brunette held a small tablet in her hands.

“What do you have there, Marina?” asked Molenski, sitting down at the table next to her.

Marina was dressed immaculately in a gray business skirt and crisp white shirt. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

“It’s the control tablet for…”

She stopped, looking over Molenski’s shoulder at Ivan.

“It’s fine. He’ll see soon enough.”

“Okay. Well, it’s the control tablet for your order.”

The item looked more like a small sheet of glass with words printed in on it than any tablet Ivan had ever seen.

She held it out, and Molenski accepted the wafer thin object. He read the text on the screen then turned it over, watching as the print on the screen moved and then flipped over to be right side up again.

“Clever. But not practical. What happens if I drop it?”

“Genitix guarantees the control tablet for two years, sir, the same as the machine itself. The tablet, like the machine, is supposed to be invulnerable to all but the heaviest abuse.”

His eyes narrowed at the emphasis. She looked at him levelly.

Without breaking her gaze, he suddenly raised the tablet and smacked it against the table they were seated at. Marina flinched and involuntarily clapped her hand over her mouth.

Her boss held the tablet up and inspected it. It was undamaged.

He put it on the table as if bored.

“So, no problems with the delivery?”

“No sir, the tech was reluctant to deliver the machine without running through a demonstration, but he didn’t argue when I told him it wouldn’t be necessary. I think it might have been his first delivery; he was very nervous...”

“Come, let’s go and look at it,” he said interrupting her and picking up the tablet again.

Ivan led the way; Marina followed him and Molenski brought up the rear. The Russian was in a good mood and watched Marina’s ass appreciatively as they walked through to the dock. Molenski was a man of many appetites, and he had a feeling that that one day soon he might have to show the serious young woman a few of them.

The mainly empty dock consisted of a raised horseshoe shaped platform that delivery trucks could back into. At the rear of the dock on the raised platform stood a tall timber crate. The unmistakable circular Genitix logo marked all four sides of the crate and just in case one missed it, G E N I T I X was also stamped diagonally in large black print across the front and back.

Molenski, for once, his excitement unrestrained, stepped past Marina, handing her the control tablet as he went. He pushed by Ivan and stopped in front of the crate.

“Pass me that crowbar, Ivan.”

Once it was in his hands, he didn’t waste time. He slid the claw end into the top corner of the crate and began to jimmy it open.

“Grab this edge and pull,” he snapped at Ivan. He then moved the crowbar down a foot and jimmied it again.

Ivan slipped the fingers of both hands under the edge and peeled the lid away as effortlessly as opening a door. The nails screeched as they came free of the rough pine. Marina’s eyes widened at this display of strength, but Molenski seemed unimpressed as he threw the crowbar to the concrete. Ivan carried the panel he had just removed and propped it up against the wall at the rear of the dock. The reverse side of the panel was lined with Styrofoam insulation, like a cooler box and was heavier than the bodyguard expected.

Molenski stepped up to the crate and Marina moved in so she also had a better view.

A film of clear plastic held back gallons of Styrofoam packing beads. Molenski jabbed his fingers through the barrier and ripped it away impatiently, releasing an avalanche of beads. The beads pooled around their feet like a drift of snow.

“Oh my,” said Marina.

Standing in the box, eyes closed and wearing nothing but white lace panties and bra, was a beautiful young woman.

For the first time in a long time, Dimitri Molenski was dumbstruck. It wasn’t just any young woman. It was Inga. His teenage sweetheart… the girl killed in front of his eyes thirty years before. The girl he should have been able to kill in his own sweet time. The girl who robbed him of the chance.

He drank in the sight of her, scarcely able to believe this custom designed machine wasn’t actually her. She was perfect.

Ivan looked on, amazed. Clearly, it was a machine, the labeling on the crate left him in no doubt of that. But this was like no human form robot he had seen before.

The first Genitix androids in 2020 had been easy to spot with their waxy, synthetic skin and jerky movement, but robotics and other technology had advanced a lot in the last ten years. The new generation Genitix robots had lithium-ion batteries that could last for 20 years without charging or replacing, and their skin was living tissue that could bleed and heal just like the human skin it was modeled on.

Ivan was certain that if he didn’t know that the thing in the box was a machine, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Molenski reached out and brushed some beads out of the robot’s hair. She was beautiful, no – more than beautiful – flawless, and just as he remembered her. Helpless to resist, he reached out and poked the skin of her ripe breast, just above the curve of the bra cup. Her skin was warm to the touch and when he removed his finger, just like a real woman’s would, the indentation from his finger sprang back quickly.

Ivan and Marina watched, fascinated. Marina smiled as Molenski again reached out, this time placing the flat of his hand against her side. He felt goosebumps break out on her skin and snatched his hand away.

He turned on Marina, grabbing her by the shirt and pulling her close.

“Is this some trick? An actress with plastic surgery?”

“What? No, Sir… she’s not real. You saw the prototypes. They modeled her from the picture you gave them!”

He stared into her eyes a moment longer then, seemingly satisfied, released her. Marina steadied herself and smoothed her shirt.

Fuck, I so have to get a new job… goddam psycho.

“We’ll see,” Molenski said, still not convinced.

He knew full well that plastic surgery had also come a long way in the last few years. He had even considered paying for a real girl to have it done, but using a real girl would have been… problematic, given what he had planned.

Molenski pulled his gun from his pants before stepping back up to the crate and jamming the muzzle of the gun hard into the soft midriff of the girl in the box.

“Open your fucking eyes or I’ll blow your guts out…” he whispered.

There was no reaction, to either the gun, which would have winded anyone unprepared for it, or the words. Nevertheless, he slapped her hard across the cheek, before finally believing she was a machine.

He took the time to study her now. His memory of her had faded in the years since, but it was the Inga he remembered. Her pretty face with its fine features, framed by the same soft, light brown hair. Again he reached out, this time prodding her alluring lips. They were soft and pliable when he pushed them open; her teeth were perfect. He turned his head to Marina, still holding the lip down.

“She will feel pain, right? That was what they promised.”

“Yes sir, you specifically requested the sensitivity feature and signed the non-disclosure. It created quite a bit of controversy a year or so ago, as you know.”

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “And she will bleed?” he asked, waggling the lip up and down.

Oh my God, you sick fuck.

Not for the first time, Marina wondered who the poor girl he had modeled her on had been.

“Yes, sir. Superficially of course, and it’ll also bruise and heal. The RealFlesh is only a few centimeters deep, though. It’s still a machine underne…”

“Dah!” He cut her off as if he didn’t want to be reminded. “How do we turn her on?”

“Either by the control tablet or there is a button behind her right ear,” she said, wondering if he even realized he was calling the machine ‘she’ and ‘her.’

Ivan, who had been taking everything in, was barely able to take his eyes from the vision in the crate as he took the tablet from Marina and handed it to Molenski.

She, the robot, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he completely understood his boss’s initial reluctance to believe the girl wasn’t real.

The instructions Marina had been reading earlier had disappeared, and when Molenski touched the screen, the tablet began to glow softly before displaying a menu.

Instructions

Start

Activate software

Restart

Shut down

He touched his finger to the start icon and the screen changed.

Please enter your five digit authorization code

“What is my authorization code?” he asked, turning to Marina.

Marina reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small plastic object.

“This is your security key; it can only be activated by you. That’s why they took a scan of your retina when you made the purchase. You hold it in front of your eye and press the button on the side. After a positive scan, it will generate a random authorization code.”

Molenski took the plastic key; it was roughly the size of a box of matches but resembled a camera with a lens on one side and a small LCD screen on the other. He passed the tablet back to Marina and held the lens in front of his right eye before pressing a tiny button on the side. The aperture opened and emitted a green light that winked out after a few seconds.

The key emitted a sound like a message notification on a phone. He turned the key over and read the five digit code before slipping it into his pocket and holding his hand out for the tablet.

Curious, Ivan and Marina watched the robot carefully as their boss entered the code. From her vantage, Marina saw the tablet’s screen light up and display a long list of terms and conditions. Molenski impatiently scrolled to the bottom and agreed to the terms with a stab of his finger.

The screen began to swirl, and the Genitix logo materialized in a colorful swirl. It was forgotten quickly, though because simultaneously a low hum began to emanate from the crate. It was exactly like the hum of a laptop starting up and faded after a few seconds.

Ivan found himself leaning forward in anticipation. When the robot’s eyes opened he felt the hair on the back of his neck, stand on end.

Dimitri Molenski, the migrant who had become the most powerful man in Chicago, found himself looking into the eyes of his long-dead first love. The moment was surreal, and he could do nothing but stand there with his eyes wide and his hands trembling. She smiled sweetly, even more, beautiful now that her eyes were open, her face animated.

“Hello. I am Sinthetica Model 676, a Genitix Corporation, human form robot. May I step forward?”

The Russian didn’t respond, just stared dumbly.

“Hello. I am Sinthetica Model 676, a Genitix Corporation, human form robot. May I step forward?”

“Dah,” he finally rasped and waved her forward.

The robots facial animation was realistic to the point of being indistinguishable from humans. So was her movement. She stepped from the crate like a girl stepping through a door. Her body lithe and supple.

Molenski couldn’t help taking a step backward as the robot/ghost came to a standstill less than a foot away from him. Ivan also looked on, stunned at the robot’s beauty and perfection but also on edge and watching the reaction of his boss carefully. Back in bodyguard mode, his hand slipped back inside his jacket where it curled around the handle of his gun.

“Currently, I am in safe mode,” the android said to Molenski. “If you are my purchaser, Dimitri Nicholas Molenski, I am required to perform a retinal scan for all of my features to be unlocked.”

“Are you sure these things can’t turn?” Ivan asked, without taking his eyes off the robot.

“As in harm a human?” Marina asked.

He nodded, noting that the robot had turned her head, almost curiously, to watch them speak. Molenski still stood frozen in front of the machine.

“No, it’s impossible, actually they are hard wired to keep humans from harm – even if it means their own destruction.”

“That is correct,” confirmed the robot, in her soft Russian accent. “According to the 29th Amendment of the United States Constitution and the artificial intelligence industry safety code, an AI product is hard-coded in such a way that does not allow them to harm a human, or by inaction allow a human to come to harm. If an AI product receives a command to harm a human, its systems will shut down irreversibly, and the authorities will be notified immediately. While it is possible to override the hard coding, the penalty for tampering with an AI to harm another human is 15 years…”

“Dah, dah! Enough!” said Molenski, snapping out of his trance. “Scan me.”

“Please step forward and look into my left eye,” said the human form robot, unperturbed by his tone.

Molenski did as he was asked and the Sinthetica’s illusion of humanity was momentarily shattered as an aperture in her eye opened and emitted a soft red light that scanned his eye left to right before winking out.

“Your identity has been confirmed Dimitri Nicholas Molenski; my standard features have been unlocked and activated.”

“So you will do anything I say now?”

“That is correct, Dimitri Nicholas Molenski.”

“First, stop calling me that. Call me Dimi only.”

“Yes, Dimi Only. Do you wish to name me?”

“Dimi! Call me Dimi!”

“Yes, Dimi. Do you wish to name me?”

“Dah, Inga. Your name will be Inga.”

“Yes Dimi, thank you for naming me. Henceforth I will respond to the name Inga.”

“So you will do anything dah?” he asked, ignoring her.

“Anything within the parameters of the law set out by Amendment 29 of the…”

“Zatknis!” he yelled.

Inga obeyed instantly, apparently recognizing Russian for shut up. She waited patiently, her pretty face devoid of emotion.

“Show me your tits.”

Marina inhaled sharply, half expecting the girl to tell him to go and fuck himself.

She didn’t, of course, and Marina reminded herself she wasn’t a girl. Providing pleasure was one of the Sinthetica model’s primary features. The demeanor of the humanoid robot changed suddenly, her lush lips opening seductively as she slowly raised her hands and grasped the cups of her brassiere. She paused and then slowly pulled them down over her perfect 36C breasts.

“Do you like them Dimi?” she asked, in a husky voice.

Molenski didn’t answer, but just behind him, Ivan’s wide eyes indicated that he liked them just fine. Marina watched Molenski carefully. If she had been asked to describe the look on her boss’s face at that moment, she would perhaps have said that he looked excited by the possibilities presented by his new toy.

Molenski reached out and pinched her nipple lightly, pleasantly surprised when it stiffened between his fingers. Amazing. When he pinched it harder and twisted it viciously, there was no reaction from the robot apart from a soft gasp, as if his sadistic action had been erotic rather than cruel. His face darkened, and he reached out and grabbed her hair, jerking her head forward.

“Oh Dimi,” she moaned.

“What the fuck!?” He yelled, letting her go in disgust and rounding on Marina. “She’s supposed to feel pain! I don’t want a fucking sex doll!”

Inga straightened, watching the interaction of the humans closely.

“You haven’t activated that feature yet…” Marina began.

“That is correct, Dimi. My patented PhysSens software requires activation before pain receptors are operational. Please activate the software using the control pad if you wish to make use of that feature.”

Molenski relaxed, still looking at Marina, his eyes were suddenly thoughtful.

“Never mind for now,” he said, turning back to the robot.

“I have a better idea,” he said and gestured towards his personal assistant. “You will kiss Marina please.”

“What?” guffawed Marina. “No way.”

Molenski grinned at her response.

“I am unable to attempt intimate contact with a human being without their express consent,” said Inga. “The human you called Marina has indicated that she does not provide consent by…”

“Do it, or you’re fired,” the Russian said to Marina, his eyes resolute.

“Please, Mr. Molenski… really, this is not professional...”

“Do it,” he said, in a low voice. “Don’t make me ask again.”

The threat in his tone indicated that the consequences might be more severe than just career related. Marina knew more about Molenski’s ‘activities’ than he could ever guess and she knew what he was capable of. She even knew about the ‘Red Room.’

Oh, what the fuck, it’s just a machine.

“Fine,” she said. “Just this once.”

“Khorosho – good, good, of course. Tell her.”

Marina looked at the pretty robot, who seemed to be following their conversation just like another human would. She took a deep breath.

“Inga, I give you permission to kiss me.”

With her breasts still exposed, the right one still noticeably red from Molenski’s rough treatment, Inga walked over to the personal assistant. Up close, Inga was even more beautiful, and Marina was amazed at the attention to detail, even down to the fine, almost invisible, soft hair on her cheeks.

Inga paused in front of Marina and looked at her in a seductive way, biting her bottom lip.

“Would you like to kiss me now?” she asked, her cheeks flushed with the faintest hint of pink, perfectly replicating the early stages of arousal in a real woman. Marina felt her body begin to respond to the proximity of the semi-naked ‘girl.’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Inga moved closer, and her hands grasped the woman’s hips as she leaned in and pressed her lips to Marina’s. Inga’s soft, warm mouth surprised Molenski’s PA and her eyes closed as she began to return the kiss.

A good Catholic girl, Marina had only ever kissed a girl once before, on a drunken dare. The next day she had been ashamed and embarrassed about her behavior but her memory of the sensual kiss and its effect on her had lingered.

There was nothing different about this kiss.

Oh God, she even smells good.

Marina forgot herself a little and her arms circled Inga’s midriff, pulling her closer. Inga responded her tongue darting out and probing the woman’s lips. Surprising even herself, Marina opened her mouth, and suddenly their tongues were intertwined.

While her instincts had taken over to a certain degree, on one level the analytical part of her brain wondered at the amazing ‘humanness’ of the robot she was French kissing. Inga’s mouth and tongue, even her saliva, felt no different to that of any person she had ever kissed.

When Inga’s hands moved to her buttocks, she sighed and, all instinct now, she passionately returned Inga’s kiss and brought one of her hands up to touch her bare breast. Inga moaned into her mouth at the touch.

Molenski’s whisper to Ivan broke the spell.

Marina pulled away, gasping as she stepped back, straightening her jacket and smoothing her hair. Inga’s adaptive technology kicked in, and she mirrored Marina’s behavior, pulling her bra back over her breasts and patting down her hair, seemingly as embarrassed as the human woman.

Marina thought she saw a flash regret cross Inga’s face, but realized instantly that it was a programmed response. Just like the moan when she touched her. Just like her breathing. Just like the soft flush to her skin. All programming.

She became annoyed at herself for falling into Molenski’s honey trap.

“Will that be all?” she snapped.

“Well, how was it?” he asked, a knowing smile on his face.

“Okay, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Just okay?” Molenski leered, noting her blush and smeared lipstick. “Looked more than okay from where I was standing, don’t you think Ivan?”

Ivan shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

“It was very… realistic,” Marina conceded, not willing to give him more than that.

Her boss gave her a shark’s grin that promised more mischief in the very near future and, not for the first time, Marina thought it might be time to get the hell out of Dodge.

“Go,” he said, waving her off as he stepped up to Inga and groped her backside. “Take the rest of the afternoon off; I have things to do...”

“Don’t forget you are having Mr. Bernstein for lunch,” Marina said, before turning on her heel and heading back into the house.

She was glad to be leaving. Even though she knew that Inga was a machine and the kiss they had just shared nothing more than a coded response on the robot’s part, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her on a human level. She had gleaned enough of Molenski’s motives to know that the Genitix machine wasn’t there to satisfy only his sexual needs… if at all.

Molenski watched her go. He had forgotten Bernstein, his most important business partner, was coming for lunch. He really would need to put off his fun with Inga until late tonight.

“Come follow me,” he ordered the robot and headed back to the kitchen without looking back to check that she was following.

“Yes, Dimi,” she said, and fell in behind him, followed by Ivan who tried to keep his attention focused on the back of the robot’s head.

It was going to be an interesting afternoon.