New Breed

Type 7

“YOKO wants new body too.”

Amelia turned from her current project and stared at her robotic parrot. He was perched on an armchair and frantically flapping his wings. His voice echoed in the high ceiling.

Her eyes turned into slits at her pet. “YOKO, you were supposed to be dissembled and destroyed. One would think that any body would be find.”

“YOKO understands.” He folded his wings around his silver body. YOKO spoke into hi chest. “YOKO is glad master did not destroy YOKO and gave YOKO voice.” His head popped up. “YOKO also likes name… But why does Master get a new body?”

Amelia tapped her claws on the table. “It’s not a just new body, I am creating something to disguise myself.”

“Ooh,” YOKO’s robot voice sounded. He widened his mouth dramatically. “You need to be in disguise to solve crimes? I read about that in a book, she was also a cat.”

“YOKO,” Amelia should have been agitated, but her voice remained without emotion. “I need to appear human again so I can work.”

“The detective needed to look human again too.” The metal bird’s responses were quick. “Do you have to find a witch?”

Amelia hung her head. “ I just want to have a human appearance to go back to the office.” She squinted at YOKO. “That way, I don’t have to spend my days talking to a mechanical feather head.”

“I don’t have feathers.” He fluttered his wings and glided onto the couch.

Amelia growled. “Maybe I’ll give you some.” It was strange to have a typical annoying encounter with the parrot. Amelia knew that the complaining should anger her. But she felt nothing. There was an icon flashing, but Amelia couldn’t recall what it meant. Nor was it in her memory banks. She turned back to her work.

She closed her claws around a piece of artificial skin. The one-inch by two inch grown skin was wrapped around her index finger. Its cilia tickled the Titan Feather until the armor created pores.

Amelia had programmed the shielding to make air pockets. She called them pores as a working title. It was a fitting name for the tiny, invisible to the naked eye, holes that the machine opened.

The cilia slid into the pores. This effectively attached the skin to the shielding. It wrapped around perfectly with no cracks or strange shapes. Amelia slid a jar-grown nail atop the claw to complete the appearance.

She admired her hand. “I’m amazing.” Her lips should have curled into a smile. Amelia was not humble, at least, not in her own mind. Her feats of greatness had always made her beam. The reminder of her loss left that strange icon blinking at the bottom of her screen. “I need to find the manual for this thing.”

“Doorbell.”

Her heart didn’t jump and the blood didn’t pump in her ears. There were no butterflies in her stomach. The blood didn’t leave her face. But feed scrolled across the top of her vision in with a red banner. “Stacey is at the door. She will see. Must keep secret.”

Amelia read the words. YOKO sent the message to her with the inner instant message system. A system rarely used between BioPets. It was a system designed for a master to give directions or commands to their BioPet. Fixating on the rare occurrence would not help with the problem the words represented.

“Come on, boss.” A pounding of a palm on the door reached Amelia. “You can’t shut yourself in your apartment.” Stacey’s voice was piercing. “Amelia, I haven’t seen you for days. I have folders for you.”

A click told the aid that the door was unlocked. She wrapped her thin fingers around the door and pushed softly. “Oh.” Stacey’s eyes lifted to the BioPet in front of her. “Type 6? Are you a prototype?”

The feline-humanoid nodded its metal head. “Yes. I am the Type 6 Prototype for the next meeting.” His voice was deep, but lacked the recorded intonation. A voice so smooth, like talking to a real human.

“Where is Ms. Curta?” Stacey brushed past to lay the folders on the coffee table. “I brought the files for her. Can I speak with her?” She stared at the vision center of the Type 6. “I’m Stacey, the personal assistant. I must be in your data banks.”

It nudged the door closed with a clawed hand. “Stacy Hartfield. Personal Assistant of Amelia Curta for 2+ years.” The machine sounded automated.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Stacy placed a hand on her hip. “Are you going to answer my question, Sabor? Where is Ms. Curta?” She voice was strong and emphasized the last sentence.

“Out.” The jaguar Type 6 turned her head to the window. “She will not return for many hours.”

“Can I ask where she has gone?”

“No. That information is classified at present.”

Stacey squinted at the robot even while she turned her head. “I won’t tell the company about you. I won’t tell them that she has made a prototype of an unconfirmed BioPet line.” She marched to the door with her ponytail swaying as she went. “I went to leave a message for Amelia. Tell her to return to the office this week.” Her hand rested on the doorknob. She knitted her eyebrows and peered from her profile as she shut the door. “We’re getting worried.”

Amelia pressed her hand to the door to feel the fading vibrations of Stacey’s footfalls. “BattleCat,” her voice returning to the light, feminine vocals of her human form, “you can come out now.”

“Clever Master.” YOKO chirped. “Stacey believes there is a Type 6 prototype in the apartment.”

“There is a Type 6 prototype in the apartment.” Amelia meant to sound bitter, but the voice emerged as monotone as the conversation with Stacey. “That’s exactly what I am.”

A speech bubble appeared at the top right of Amelia’s vision. “Are you sad?” It was sent from BattleCat.

“I don’t know, BattleCat.” Amelia’s voice was even. “In this body, I have no emotions.”

BattleCat’s head sprung up in the way a cat’s does. His claws slid out, but not making contact with the couch he was occupying. A soft wave of the tip of his tail while he surveyed his surroundings gave clue to his feline instincts.

“What?” Amelia tilted her head. “You’re surprised by my response?” She held a clawed finger to her chin. “Perhaps emotions are present in BioPets. It is something I had worked my life to prove.” Amelia shook her head. “There are more pressing matters at hand.”

She retook her seat at the large desk. Her hand was displayed in front of her face. Amelia took her time to analyze every section of the robotic hand.

Skin could be added to conceal her metal armor. But the structure holding the skin would appear the same. Amelia would not be able to pass as human, let alone her former self.

“I need a way to change the structure of the Type 6.” Amelia turned her palm up. She peered over her shoulder to the pet tiger. “I will still look like a cat. They will know what I am.”

BattleCat swished his tail as gave low, tired moans. He curled onto the couch and relaxed his ears. The shining tail was still visible and precisely balanced at the edge of the cushion.

Amelia rotated the chair. “Your tail.” She rolled closer. “It changes shape. The structure changes into a weapon. Armor Shifting.” A push with her strange foot landed her back at the desk.

Papers were swept off the desk and vials spilled as Amelia cleared her space. “Type 1s are the most common for the armor shifting. They get those big weapons.” Amelia explained to YOKO as he landed nearby. “I added the feature to the Type 5 and Type 6, but it was on a lower scale.”

“No big weapons?” YOKO tilted his head and examined her with his camera.

“Small weapons.” Amelia slide her hand into a knife. “But that’s not the point. Not now anyway.” She fixed her fingers and drew the plans. “The armor can shift to form weapons. I can make the armor shift to create a human figure. To be more exact, I can create my figure.”

YOKO flapped his wings. “Do it. I want to see.”

“I can to make the calculations. It needs to be programmed in.” Amelia scribbled out a basic human shape. “Change the shape, add the skin, and no one will suspect a thing.”

Amelia walked briskly through the main lobby. Her heels clicked against the marble flooring. She glanced at the receptionist as she approached the double doors. The receptionist gave a small smile while she hit the button to unlock the next set of doors.

Amelia pressed the call button on the elevator like she had done hundreds of times before. Warning messages flashed on her screen as each person came near. A man from accounting strode past with a nod. More walked through the hallway but kept their attention on documents or conversations.

She needed them to keep a wide birth from her. Amelia’s artificial skin was still experiential and it may not be attached correctly. It would be best if the elevator were unoccupied.

The timing of her ascent was perfect. There were no other passengers on the elevator she took to Floor 18, Research and Development. Only BattleCat accompanied her. She pushed through the office door and laid her folders on her desk.

BattleCat took his place near the bookcase. He circled a few times before laying on the floor in a bundle of metal and feline features. The Type 7 skin grafts would add texture to his shining appearance. She imagined him with the artificial tiger hide. But Amelia would still recognize the shape of his forearms and structure.

“Back to work?” Shawn rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. He had a habit of knocking after he had entered a room. “Wow, I thought you would look worn out after a week of working on the prototypes.” He was wearing a large grin and his face was aglow.

Amelia frowned at the desk. “I am worn out. I did months worth of work in a short amount of time.” She slid her nails across the papers.

“You look great.” Shawn leaned on the desk to get a view of her face. “It’s like years have been taken off of you. And,” he stepped back to measure with his arms. “You’re toned. What kind of exercise regime have you been using?”

She glanced at her forearms. “I look the same, Shawn. I haven’t been exercising. I hate working out, you know that.”

“Yeah. I could never get you to join me at the gym.” Shawn folded his lips in. “You said that you didn’t need to be around a bunch of sweaty self absented guys.” He crossed his arms while standing at full height. “Yeah, you told me that if you wanted to smell BO and see people crying that you would go down to the lab two hours before a project was due.”

She tried to fake smile to her friend, but Amelia’s attention was elsewhere.

“What’s happened now?” Shawn raced around the desk. The screen in the desktop showed another victim of the New Breed attacks.

Amelia ran a hand over the tiny image on the right. It enlarged to fill the whole desktop. They stood watching the people moving across the news report.

Reporters stood in the foreground as a stretcher rolled with a blanket covered person. There was police tape visible brushing the back of the reporter and moving as she moved. Raindrops had gathered on the tape and woman’s coat.

There was a banner at the base of the footage. “Death in the Districts: Another body found in the second ring of the city. Will this be the last?”

Amelia stared transfixed at the screen. She didn’t want to click the icon on the desktop to record the report. Shawn may find it strange that she has taken an interest in the cases.

He couldn’t see the screen she now views the world from. Little emblems appeared in her vision. She recorded the newscast.