View source for Happy New Year

Part 1

Humans never learn. I swear, I think the human race is doomed to keep repeating the mistakes of its past until we eventually destroy ourselves. Alright, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but it still amazes me how short-sighted we can be, even when history demonstrates the consequences. But I don't want to get too philosophical on you. Let me tell you the story of what happened, and you can judge for yourself.

It was December 2099--my junior year. College was out for Winter Break, but I decided to stay on campus to earn a few extra bucks working in the library. I'm a reference librarian there. It's a pretty dull job most of the time, and over a semester break it's ten times worse because most of the student population goes home.

We have a decent number of androids on staff that can handle most of the menial work, anyway. Still, the library employs a few students to supervise them and also because some students and professors refuse to deal with them, despite how personable they've gotten nowadays. Hell, if it weren't for the ID tags they're required to wear, I'd have trouble telling them apart from real people, myself--and I'm a robotics major! I guess the lack of emotion and common sense usually gives them away, though. Usually.

But I'm getting off-track. So I'd decided to stay on over the month-long break, which didn't bother me, except that there weren't many people around to hang out with. So you can imagine my surprise when I was filing some discs in the third-floor reference section and felt a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I dropped about half of them.

"Hey, Matt," a voice greeted me from behind.

I spun around to see the face of Meghan Parker smiling at me.

"Oh, hey, Meghan."

"You dropped some discs."

"Yeah," I said, squatting down to pick them up. Meghan knelt down to help.

Meghan and I had met two semesters ago in American Lit. We'd spent most of that semester making fun of the professor. (He was about a million years old and had a lecturing style to match.) She was hot as hell in a girl-next-door kind of way. Silky, honeycomb hair danced on her shoulders and framed her sky-blue eyes and sunny complexion. She had a full-figure, too, and amazing legs that she liked to show off by wearing short skirts in the middle of winter.

I'd actually tried to date her back then, but she made it pretty clear she wasn't interested "I think we're better off as friends," she'd said. Ouch! After that, we kind of drifted off in our own directions. I hadn't seen her for months.

"So I didn't know you were around this winter," she said, handing me a fistful of discs.

"Yeah, I figured I'd make some money instead of sitting around at my parent's place for a month."

"Ahh," she grinned. "So what have you been up to?"

"Oh, y'know. Same shit. How 'bout you?"

"Same shit. Actually, I'm doing thesis research now. Have to finish it if I'm gonna graduate this May, right?"

"Yeah, time flies." Boy, did I know it. I hadn't picked a topic for mine yet.

"Well," she said, getting up, "I gotta run to a meeting with my advisor. I'll see ya aound."

"Yeah, okay. Take it easy."

She turned to go, and I watched her glide down the corridor. Damn, she was cute.

Pining over mised opportunities, I went back to filing, when I heard her call, "Oh, hey, Matt!"

"Yup?"

"What are you doing for New Year's Eve?"

"Umm... nothing that I know of. Probably not much."

"Me neither. Do you want to come by my apartment and watch the ball drop?"

My ears perked up. A night with Meghan? Was this what I thought it was? "Ahh, sure. Sounds good," I said, trying not to sound too interested.

"Okay. It'll probably just be my roommate Sam and me. We'll get pizza or something."

"Oh." There is a roommate. Sam. My interest dropped a notch. "Okay."

"Great. Come by after nine. 145 West Main."

"Got it. Thanks." Meghan waved goodbye and then disappeared behind the stacks..

Now don't get me wrong. Even if there was no future for us, spending a night with Meghan was sure to provide me with days of jerk-off material. Hopefully, Sam the Roommate wouldn't spoil it. Was he a boyfriend, I wondered? Oh well, anything beat sitting home alone.

December 31 was two days later, and the day passed slowly as I waited for work to end. We'd had a problem when one of the Stacey 6000 units started malfunctioning. I'd found her in one of the aisles up on the fifth floor removing all of the old paper-and-ink books from the shelves and just dropping them on the floor. She wouldn't respond to verbal commands, and froze up entirely after I rebooted her, so I had to shut her down and reshelve all the books myself. Afterwards, my boss forced me to endure another ten minute lecture on the failings of technology in our society-a price I frequently pay for being the only robotics major on the library staff.

Finally, though, night came and I was able to bail out a little early. That gave me just enough time to stop at my apartment and change. Within a half-hour, I was pulling up to Meghan's apartment.

When Meghan invited me in, I discovered that Sam was actually Samantha. This wouldn't be so bad, after all. Sam was just as sexy as her roommate. Like Meghan, she'd been gifted with crystal blue eyes and a flawless complexion, but her hair was light blond and pulled back in a casual ponytail. Meghan was wearing one of her signature high-cut denim skirts that revealed her toned legs (wasn't she cold?), while Sam had on regular jeans that hugged her ass when she walked. They both had on cotton blouses that did remarkably poor jobs of hiding their college-girl chests.

Over pizza and beer, I learned that Sam was a psych major from San Deigo who had just transferred from UC that fall. She was friendly and funny, and I found myself hoping that even though I had no chance with Meghan, maybe something would happen with Sam.

After dinner, we fell back on the sofas and patted our stomaches. Meghan put on a movie--some action flick--and we zoned out in the living room until it was nearly midnight. When the movie ended, we flipped to live coverage of the celebration in New York. Sam went to the kitchen and came back with three glasses of champagne.

She handed me one, and that's when the trouble started.

"So Matt. I hear you had a thing for Meghan," Sam quipped, sitting down on the couch.

Meghan shot her a look. "Saaaam!" she hissed.

"What? What's the big deal?"

I squirmed in my seat, "Well, I-"

"Matt, don't pay any attention to her," Meghan said, "She likes to cause trouble."

"Oh c'mon. We're all adults here. There's no shame," Sam grinned.

True. And I don't embarrass easily, so I decided to turn the tables. "Yeah, Meghan's nice. But she can't hold a candle to you, Sam," I said with a wink.

Meghan's jaw dropped in mock offense. Sam ate it up, "Well! Aren't we pretentious!"

"Hey, you started it," I chuckled.

"Oh please," Meghan said, getting up. "I think I need to use the bathroom before this conversation gets any worse."

"Aw, c'mon, Meg," Sam called as she left the room, "Hey, you're gonna miss the countdown!" Meghan responded with the sound of one bathroom door closing.

On TV, the ball was lit up and beginning to make its descent. The cheers of the assumbled crowd grew. Sam got off the couch and approached me, "Well, we'll just have to toast without her."

I smiled and got to my feet as the voices on TV started their chant, "Ten!...Nine!...Eight!..."

"Yup. Start of a new century and all that," I said, raising my glass.

"...Five!...Four!..."

"Hey, Meg, you're missin' it!" Sam shouted.

"...Two!...One!...Happy New Year!" the crowd erupted.

"Happy New Year," I chimed. Sam smiled as she clinked her flute against mine and we both drained them. The stuff was actually pretty good, considering I'm not a champagne drinker.

As we put down the glasses, Sam suddenly leaned over and gave me a slow kiss on the lips.

I was caught a little off-guard. I tried to think of something witty to say.

And that's when the power went out.

For a moment, we found oursevles plunged into total blackness. The sound of the crowd died instantly, too, as the TV dropped off.

"Woh, what the hell happened?" As I spoke, battery-powered emergency lights mounted on the walls winked on. At least we could see again.

"I have no idea," Sam said, looking around. "I'm pretty sure we paid the electric bill."

I slid my arm around her waist. "Well, I know I'm turned on, anyway." (How's that for a line?) Pulling her close, I returned her surprise kiss with one of my own. Sam giggled and put her arms around my neck.

Within seconds, our kissing grew deeper and we started to explore each other with our hands. I felt Sam stroke my back as I ran my fingers down her hips, caressing her through her blouse and jeans. Her tongue tasted of cimemon mixed with champagne as I entered the warm wetness of her mouth.

We held that kiss for a long time. Then, I moved my face across her cheak and down her neck, taking in the sweet scent of her skin. I probed the soft spot below her ear with my tongue, and she smiled and rewarded me with a quiet moan of pleasure.

"Better be quiet," I whispered in her ear, "Meghan might hear us."

Sam let out a dreamy sigh. "Well, she'll probably be going to bed soon, you know," she said as she slid one hand down to cup the new bulge in my jeans. "After all, it's...zzt...zero o'clock."

I felt Sam flinch slightly. Amused, I straightened up to meet her eyes. "That's cute."

"What?" she asked playfully, "You'd rather go home?"

"No, I mean, zero o'clock. Is this like the zero hour of a new relationship?"

Sam gave me a puzzled look, "What are you talking about?"

"You said it's zero o'clock. Don't you mean twelve?" I chuckled, and moved in to nibble her ear. At the same time, I closed my eyes and felt around her waist, starting to untuck her shirt.

I stopped, though, when I realized Sam wasn't moving. I pulled away to face her again and saw she still wore the same puzzled expression. "No, it's not twelve," she finally said, "It's......zero.....it's....." her voice trailed off.

"Sam? What's wrong?" I let go and backed up a step.

Sam's expression of playful puzzlement evolved into genuine confusion, "It's......zero..... it's...... I'm confused."

"Are you okay?"

Ignoring my question, she asked, "What year is it?"

"What do you mean? It's New Year's. 2100."

"No, it's not. It's 2000.....it's....." Sam put a hand to her forehead.

"Do you want to sit down?"

Ignoring me again, Sam suddenly started pacing the room. Slowly at first, then with more assertiveness. "I'm not feeling well... This is not possible...." I backed out of the way as Sam brushed past me on a purposeful march toward the hallway. Then she stopped abruptly, turned around, and began marching in the opposite direction toward the front door. "I'm not feeling well," she anounced again.

Her expression had evolved once more. This time from confusion to an odd vacancy. Not stopping, though, she suddenly opened the front door--and then just as suddenly closed it before turning on her heels and walking in a new direction toward the end table. "This is not possible," she repeated. Next, in a rigid movement she bent forward and picked up Meghan's full champagne flute from the table. "What year is it?" she asked. as her body spun around to face the kitchen. But instead of waiting for an answer, her fingers released the glass and it fell to the floor, spilling the fizzing liquid on the carpet. She was unfazed by this, and nearly stepped on it as she marched stiffly toward the kitchen.

I continued to dodge Sam as she flew relentlessly around the room. And as I watched her, it reminded me of something... Suddenly, it hit me. The Stacey 6000 that had short-circuited at work earlier today. Sam was acting just like... "Holy fuck," I breathed. "You're an android!"

But how? Androids were used all the time for basic chores in the service industry, manufacturing, and in homes. And although they appeared completely human on the outside, their personalities were invariably...well, flat. The idea of an android passing as human was unheard of--much less a college girl. And anyway, androids were required by law to wear ID tags identifying them as such. Sam didn't have one.

Sam didn't seem to hear my revelation. Instead, she continued marching around the room. "I'm not feeling well.... This is not possible...." She spun on her heels again and was heading straight for me.

Stunned, and wanting to confirm my suspicion, I decided to ask a question, "Hey, Sam, what year is it?"

Sam froze in mid-stride and her head cocked to the right, "Invalid inquiry.... " she replied. Then her head turned forward. Then it snapped to the right again. "Invalid inquiry..." Turn, snap. "Invalid inquiry..." Turn, snap. "Invalid inquiry..."

I felt myself growing aroused at the sight of this artificial girl, trying to pass for human, but apparently suffering some kind of malfunction that gave her away.

Intrigued, I crossed over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. She didn't seem to notice and continued her programmed response. "Invalid inquiry..."

I put my arms around her and lifted her stiff body. Like most androids, her body weight was about the same as an equal-size human. I stuggled to bring her over to the sofa and laid her down on her back. Sam's joints remained locked in place, her arms in mid-air. "Invalid inquiry..." Her neck continued to twist back and forth, but the sofa limited her movements.

Curious, I knelt down on the floor next to her and began to unlace her sneakers. Conventional androids have a make and model stamped to the sole of one foot. I took off Sam's shoes and socks and examined both feet. No make or model. Wasn't that illegal, too?

"Invalid inquiry...(click!)...Invalid inquiry..."

I figured I should probably reboot her, assuming her activation switch was in the usual place. (Hidden in the right ear, accessible with a pen or small finger.) But my excitement was growing at the sight of the damaged robot, so I pulled myself up onto the couch and strattled her waist. She remained in a mental fugue as I finished untucking her shirt and pulled it up above her chest. It was too difficult to pull it off entirely, so I settled for this, and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra.

"Invalid inquiry...(click!)...Invalid inquiry..."

Her breasts spilled out before me as the bra came away. Large, firm, and warm, I caressed them with my fingers, giving each pert nipple a generous pinch. So real! I was about to lean down and kiss them, when I heard a voice behind me.

"What's going on?!" My heart pounding, I nearly fell off the couch as I twisted around to see Meghan standing in the hallway, her eyes wide. "What's wrong with Sam?"

Not knowing what to do, I became defensive, "Your....roommate is an android!"

Meghan became furious, "What the hell are you talking about?! She is not! Get the fuck off of her!" In a split second, Meghan was pulling me off. We both toppled to the ground with me sprawled across her legs.

"Get off of me, you pervert!" Megan yelled, pushing me back.

I had to do something, but what? Suddenly, I blurted, "Hey, Meghan, what year is it?"

"You're going to have more than the time to worry about-"

"Just tell me! What year is it?"

Instantly, Meghan's expression went from one of fury to puzzlement. "It's.....it's....." she stuttered. I wasted no time. In less than a second, I crawled to Meghan and jammed my pinkie into her right ear. I felt a soft click beneath the skin. "It's the yeaaarrrrrr...." Megan's voice instantly dropped in pitch and speed, and her joints locked in place. Her gaze fell to her legs and her jaw went slack.

I couldn't believe it. Sam was one thing. I barely knew her. But Meghan and I had known each other for over a year, and I'd had no idea she was a machine.

And now, she was deactivated. Not a moment too soon. Was it possible that they were programmed to believe the are human? As I pondered that question, my thought was broken by the electronic Sam, still going haywire on the couch.

"Invalid inquiry...(click!)...Invalid inquiry..."

For a moment, I considered taking her right then. But then an idea began to play in my head.

I got up and walked back to the couch. Leaning over Sam, I stuck my pinkie in her ear and felt the same soft click. The rhymthmic movement of her head slowed immedaitely as her systems went offline. "Invaliiiiiiiiid..." Now motionless, she stared blankly up at the ceiling.

I lifted Sam up, and pushed her feet off the couch to bring her up to a sitting position. With that done, I picked up Meghan and put her down next to Sam. I felt a rush of adrenaline as my eyes took in the sight of the two inert gynoids staring absently across the room.

On a whim, I knelt down in front of Meghan and ran my hands up her perfectly-toned legs and under her denim skirt. Of course, she never would have allowed this if she were functioning correctly, which made it all the more arousing.

I leaned forward and, brushing away a lock of Meghan's silky hair, pushed my pinkie into her ear again.

There was another soft click, and Meghan blinked. I kept my hand by her head in case I needed to shut her down again in a hurry.

I heard a another click followed by two soft beeps, and Meghan spoke without emotion, "Meghan Series 9000. Serial number 4535497B-6. System initializing..."

Series 9000? The newest androids I had heard of were 6000 models.

"Cognitive malfunction detected at time......time.....time......" Meghan repeated the word with the same inflection and her head twitched slightly until I interrupted her.

Letting out a deep breath, I said, "Cancel," and then, "Command mode."

Meghan immediately fell silent, and then replied with, "Meghan persona program disabled. Entering command mode."

I let out a sigh of relief. Apparently, she was programmed with at least some of the same commands as her earlier siblings. She would stay in a wait state until given further instructions.

I side-stepped to Sam and reactivated her.

Click, beep-beep. "Samantha Series 9000. Serial number 3921194C-1. System initializing... Cognitive malfunction detected at time.....time.....time...."

"Cancel. Command mode."

"Samantha persona program disabled. Entering command mode."

My eyes lit up with delight. This was too good to be true. For a moment, I stood in silence. Although when I listened very hard, I could just barely make out a soft hum, which could only be the two android girls waiting in front of me.

"Sam," I said, "Remove Meghan's clothes."

Without hesitation, Sam rose to her feet and then bent down before Meghan. She took off Meghan's heels and then moved up to her waist to unzip her denim skirt.

Suddenly, Meghan spoke, "What are you doing, Sam?" she asked with detached curiosity.

I was shocked. Normally, robots in command mode don't initiate speech. Apparently, Meghan was designed for more interaction.

Sam, however, didn't reply. Instead, she continued to pull off Meghan's skirt, and then her brown pantyhose and lace underwear.

"Sam, this is inappropriate behavior. You must stop immediately," Meghan spoke in the same, detached tone. But she did not resist.

Sam rose and began pulling up Meghan's blouse. Meghan protested, "No, Sam. This is not-"

"Meghan," I commanded, "Assist Sam by removing your clothes."

Meghan fell silent and raised her arms to allow Sam to pull the blouse over her head. Then, Sam unhooked Meghan's bra and tossed it on the floor. When finished, Sam rose to attention, awaiting further orders. Meghan sat naked and motionless on the couch.

I allowed my eyes to feast over Meghan's body. Approaching her, I straddled her lap and fondled her full breasts. She did not react.

Smiling, I stood up, "Meghan, remove Sam's clothes."

Immediately, Meghan stood up and unzipped Sam's jeans. Sam continued to stand at attention, but spoke when Meghan had managed to pull down her jeans and panties to the ankles. "Meghan, what are you doing?"

Meghan ignored her and pulled Sam's shirt up over her head. "Meghan, stop. Your actions are not permitted."

"Meghan, lay Sam down on the sofa and then straddle her at the waist."

Meghan took Sam by the arm and pulled her to the sofa. Sam allowed herself to be led, stiffly. "Megan, what are you-"

In one motion, Meghan pushed Sam down onto the couch and then lifted her feet so she was lying on her back. Then, she mounted her, as instructed, and stared blankly ahead.

"Meghan, kiss Sam deeply."

Meghan leaned forward so she was on all fours hovering over Sam. Then she bent down, closed her eyes, and kissed Sam full on the lips. Sam's eyes widened and I could hear muffled protest, but Meghan ignored it and pressed her tongue inside Sam's mouth.

I knelt down beside the two androids on the couch and ran my mouth over the sides of their breasts, which were pressed close together as Meghan continued her kiss. With my tongue, I played with both girls' nipples, causing them to stiffen and become erect.

Feeling the pressure build in me, I rose and said. "Meghan, stop kissing Sam. Sam, fondle Meghan's breasts with one hand and masage her vagina with the other."

Sam did as she was told, eliciting a short gasp from Meghan. "Sam. Stop. I am not programmed for homosexual intercourse," Meghan's voice grew more urgent as Sam continued stroking her. "Sam, this action is forbidden.... this action is forbidden-"

"Meghan, fondle Sam's breasts with one hand and masage her vagina with the other."

Immediately, Meghan stopped protesting and obeyed the order.

I watched for a full thirty seconds as the two android girls stroked each other. At various times, each let out momentary gasps as their programming allowed.

Feeling as if I would burst soon, I unzipped my fly and pulled down my own jeans and boxers. Then, I climbed on top of Sam's legs, behind Meghan. Pulling her back toward me, I pushed my hard member into Meghan's ass. It felt warm and smooth against me. I put my arms around her and began stroking her tits.

As I caught their rhythm, I spoke between heavy breaths, "Sam, start persona program."

Sam delayed her movements for only a moment as her CPU processed the command, "Persona program starting..."

Meghan continued stroking Sam, and I continued to press myself into Meghan, when suddenly, I heard two short beeps and then: "What the hell's going on?!" Sam nearly screamed. "Meghan, get off me!"

Meghan ignored her rommate, staring vacantly ahead as she moved her hands and body over Sam's private parts.

"Meghan, stop!" Sam shouted, "Meg-meg-meg-meg-meg-" Then, something seemed to snap in her circuitry. Her head jerked to the right, "Error... I am not programmed for homosexual intimacy... Error..." Sam's voice began to rise in pitch and speed. "This unit is malfuctioning... malfunctioining...." I suddenly became aware of a crackling noise that was becoming louder. And then the smell of burning electronics, "Hello, my name is Samantha....Samantha....I am a Samantha 9000 series android...android...android..." Sam's voice rose to a fever pitch and I felt myself explose inside Meghan's behind.

Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me as I rubbed against Meghan, who was still executing her programmed command despite Sam's program failure. Just then, a loud snap shook the three of us. I looked over Meghan's shoulder to see Sam's faceplate blow off her head, revealing smoking diodes and circuitry beneath. Sam's arms rocked stiffly up and down as her voice took on a clipped, digtized quality, "an-an-an-droid-droid-"

The sights and sounds heightened my climax even more, but I managed to whisper in Meghan's ear, "Meghan, start persona program."

The robot stopped for only a second while her CPU executed the instruction. "Persona program starting..."

I continued trusting inside Meghan when she came to life, "What's happening?!...Sam?" she said, looking down into the open face cavity of her malfunctioning friend.

I kept my grip around Meghan's chest as she tried to comprehend her surroundings. But apparently her persona software was not designed to deal with these circumstances. Unable to cope, her systems began to short-circuit. "I do not understand. I do not understand. What is happening? Can I get you some champagne?"

I rubbed myself cock around her ass and kissed the back of her neck hungrily. But Meghan's input sensors were too overloaded to make her aware of anything. "Matt, don't pay any attention to her. She likes to cause trouble...cause trouble... Cognitive malfunction...malfunction... Must reset....reset....reset....reset...."

My climax finally starting to subside, I loosened my grip and leaned back against the broken Sam's ankles. Meghan remained in place, her head twitching rhythmically. "Reset....reset....reset...."

Sighing and feeling pretty good. I leaned forward and stuck my pinkie in Meghan's right ear. "Reset....rrrrreessseeettt...." Meghan spun down like a wind-up toy and then fell silent.

I got up off the couch and took a long look at the female robots. Meghan sitting up straight like a statue. Sam, beneath her and in need of major repairs. Part of me was still amazed that they passed for human for so long. Hell, who was I kidding? I woild have never known their secret if it weren't for date bugs lurking in their software. Just goes to show humans never learn. Even engineers.

But who built them and why? What was their purpose? And how many other androids impersonating humans were walking around campus?

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