This choice: Shawn feels lie...uh...a robot • Go Back...Chapter #7Shawn feels lie...uh...a robot by: Yote   Shawn felt very much like a robot. The engineers had done an exceptional job making the external shell look like a nerd's wet dream using only lycra, fabric paint, and foam, but internally things were a different story. Being a human was something you only missed when you were no longer one, and the absence of breathing or a heartbeat unnerved him. A chill ran through him as his body heat began to leach out into the surroundings.
This form felt weird, alien, inhuman, and he recalled more clearly why he'd never repeated his foray into inanimate shapeshifting. He tried some simple movements; his limbs responded sluggishly, moved slowly. A simple step sent his metal body thudding hard to the floor.
He looked like a marionette operated by an inexperienced puppeteer as he climbed awkwardly to his feet. This wouldn't do at all. He focused his power internally, giving himself a tune-up - tightening up hydraulics, loosening joints, improving signal pathways. He wasn't aware of it, but soon his body was a specimen of robotics decades ahead of current technology. He flexed his fingers experimentally - found the motion fluid enough for him to almost convince himself he was still human.
Next he focused on the external dressing. The metallic painted lycra wrapped around his robot skeleton just looked tacky.
"We'll soon have th-"
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"-at improved. What the..."
For him, the transition was instantaneous. One moment he was standing in his apartment, the next he was splayed out on the floor. He sat bolt upright, disorientated. "What the- Where the-" He stared around him. He was in his cousin's apartment. Staring down at himself, he discovered he was still in the body of the Exterminatrix and that a thick, black cable had been jammed into a socket in his navel. It was an invasive sensation having it in him, and he instinctively moved to pull it out.
"Don't touch it!" Rebecca shouted, running towards him. "You'll only shut yourself down again." She pulled him into a hug. He felt her human warmth spread through him a little from the contact. "Thank God you're alright," she said with relief.
"What happened? "Shut myself down"? "Again"?"
"I found you out cold in your apartment," she explained. "You idiot; you completely drained your battery, deactivated yourself. You could have been stolen, sold for scrap, God knows what! I had to bring you back to my apartment. Then I spent all night running round LA trying to get my hands on the right charger. Eventually I managed to contact one of the engineers who built the original...you."
He was indeed in her apartment. The floor around him was strewn with a multitude of phone chargers, laptop adapters, dongles, and even a pair of jumper cables. Outside, night has fallen, while to him it had been daylight only a minute ago.
A chill ran through him as he processed her words. For several hours, he'd been without power. Dead. If it hadn't been for her he would have stayed that way, forever, just an inanimate, mechanical... thing.
"What were you doing before you passed out?" she asked concerned.
"Just using my power," he replied. "I mean, my ability. It must really sap my batteries."
"You should probably go easy on using it until shooting is over then," Rebecca said. "We can't risk you shutting down everywhere."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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