Android X: The Complete Series by Michael La Ronn

Author:Michael La Ronn [La Ronn, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Ursabrand Media
Published: 2015-08-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Jazzlyn sat in a dark hostel room and held up Ballixter’s black box to the light. The window shades were drawn, the room lit by the light of a single lamp on the nightstand. The walls were yellowing and cracked in places, in need of major repair. She sat cross-legged on a floral bedspread that looked like an African jungle.

Smoochums and the rest of her mechanical cockroaches sat on the edge of the bed, watching a trashy reality television show about human-android relationships.

Jazzlyn puffed an electronic cigarette, the smell of watermelon-blueberry tobacco filling the room. She blew a huge cloud of smoke at the black box and it stuck to the sides, dulling its shiny surfaces. She wiped one of the edges until it was shiny again.

“The indestructible black box. An android wants you, and so does a mysterious person. That means you’re valuable. I just need to know why.”

She tried to crush the box with her hands but it just made her palms red. She threw the box at the wall but it didn’t break. She beat it with the butt of her gun but she didn’t even crack a corner.

“This is definitely a UEA black box.”

She squeezed the corners of the box, revealing two small prongs. She snapped her fingers, and Smoochums scurried into her hand. Seeing the black box, the cockroach transformed into a metal cube with two holes in the center. She stuck the prongs into Smoochums, and the cockroach cooed. The box hummed and glowed gold, illuminating lines that she hadn’t noticed before. A rotating, shimmering wall of information appeared around the box.

“Good work, Smoochy,” Jazzlyn said. Her lens lit up and emitted a laser that connected with the shimmering wall.

“Only one chance,” Jazzlyn said. “Wish me luck, Smoochy. Otherwise, I’m going to jail.”

Smoochums buzzed sadly.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”

She blinked hard as her lens interfaced with the black box. Her vision surged forward as if she were traveling through space at warp speed.

She touched down on a dark floor in a cylindrical room. She stepped forward, but the room vibrated gently, stopping her. A message in blood-red letters appeared on the wall: VERIFY YOUR IDENTITY.

“Crap,” she said. “This is a clearinghouse. I totally forgot.”

This was the first of many UEA security mechanisms designed to spring up whenever an unauthorized user entered. If she wasn’t careful, she’d trip the alarms.

An access panel with a numerical keypad sprouted from the ground. She entered a serial code she had purchased from a shady merchant in the badlands—it had a 200% money-back guarantee (‘If it doesn’t work, I’ll pay you’).

After a few moments, the room chimed and lit up, vanquishing the darkness and exposing a clear blue room with glowing walls.

“Welcome, madame,” a voice said.

“Why, thank you,” Jazzlyn said, strutting across the room toward a golden door. “I wish more people called me that.”

She entered a long tunnel where information flashed around her as it transmitted through the box. A gentle breeze of air flowed through the tube, though she didn’t know where it was coming from or why it felt so real.

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