Part 8
Warning - Ron bastardization. If he you thought was a jerk before...
Note: I know the past few parts were slow, but now the plot gets thicker.
Ron entered a sleazy bar called the Men's Club full of male whores and male erotic dancers, and ready to take care of "business". Ron truly had work to do, but it didn't mean he could not have fun while he did it. Which was why he chose this location for his meeting. And after that he would have some real fun.
Ron sat at a lone table sipping a beer, and watched as a boy no older than 16 removed his skintight short shorts. A cough interrupted Ron just as the boy finished leaving him in a thong that left nothing to the imagination. Turning to the sound, Ron saw his appointment. It was an elderly man in a lab coat that looked very out of place in the club.
Ron smiled, and said, "Doctor, I'm glad to see you on time."
The "doctor" smiled thinly back, and answered. "I would not let my favorite customer wait unnecessarily, Mr. MacDougle."
Ron glared dangerously, and whispered. "I have told you before the name is Williams!"
Unphased the doctor replied, "What ever, Mr. MacDo- Williams. I believe you have an order form to give me."
Ron passed the doctor an electronic notebook, and the doctor glanced through the information. Suddenly a knowing smile spread across the doctor's face. "I'm glad to see your no longer interested in the outdated constructs. Bioandroids are much more economical to make and buy. Not to mention more stable."
"That is why I'm ordering a bioandriod. Harry has become too difficult to handle with his wild mood swings, and he questions my orders to much." Ron said. "But I have heard you've perfected bioandroids so they have all the advantages of the constructs with out the disadvantages."
The doctor smiled, and boasted. "Yes, the first step toward that perfection was the girl that came with the XGP, my old colleague Gwen Khan worked on. But they were only able to remove instability, and she had enough will to disobey. Which of course started that mess years ago." Ron narrowed his eyes dangerously in response to the mention of the XGP and Melfina, but the doctor paid no heed. "You see the advantage of the construct was that not only could it think independently, but also like a human. And to make reasonable decisions without complete information was then out of reach of a computer. So we spliced a human brain with a computer to maximize efficiency, but it not only had a will, it was also unstable. After removing the human brain that was not compatible with the computer, the bioandroid "Melfina" was made. Unfortunately the new brain like computer had a will. But I have fixed that problem, and now any one can have a faithful bioandroid of their own." The doctor smiled, and added, "For a price of course." The doctor paused, and pretended to read the pad.
"Your finances in resent years have diminished greatly. And I fear you cannot afford my product. But because you've been a faithful customer I will give you a deal. You see your old construct, "Harry", would be wonderful for scrape. Every part of him excluding the brain, nerves, and skeletal bones can be used in bioandroids, and are quite expensive and difficult to grow." He passed a moment making calculations in his head. I'll give you a 30% discount for scrapping your, "Harry"."
Ron's forehead creased in thought, but the love he had for Harry was forgotten because of his obsession for revenge. It took less than half a minute when he made the decision. "I need him for a month or two still, but after that he would only be a burden. It's a deal."
The doctor stood, and spoke one last time. "Then everything is set. Good-bye, Mr. MacDougle."
Ron glared angrily at the doctor as he left.
_*_*_*
A man of 19 stood in the shadows of the Men's Club scanning it with his eyes and ears for information. Information was his first job. He bought and sold it daily. He wore cut off shorts barley hiding his ass and a black shirt with so many wholes that it showed more than it hid. That was his second job, selling his body. Surprisingly the jobs worked hand in hand, few new how much a whore could hear. And tonight the whore heard something.
He heard a man say "MacDougle", and the man was immediately corrected. The whore listened in. A new job had been sent to him from Fred Lou, one of his many employers, and it offered 10,000 wong. What made the situation look sweeter was that the man matched MacDougle's description.
When the elderly companion called the other MacDougle as he left, the whore knew it was time to move in. He silently crept behind Ron.
"Hi there handsome." The whore smiled seductively, "Looking for a good time." Ron looked up and down the whore's body, and grabbed the whore's ass. Smiling lecherously Ron answered, "I was, but I think I've found one."
_*_*_*
The whore typed furiously at a computer. He had just finished rummaging through MacDougle's discarded clothing, and found his ships registration and dock number. Now he had to send the information to his employer as soon as possible.
But it was, like most things, easier said than done. Ron slept about five feet away, and there was no telling when he would wake up. To make things more complicated Ron had not been a gentle customer. The whore's nose had been broken, making both eyes black, and another blow made one eye swell shut. The act of typing was near impossible. One hand was completely useless with broken fingers. General pain didn't help either.
Despite it all the whore was determined to send the information tonight. The violent treatment only added to the 10,000 wong incentive.
The whore jumped as a heavy and a now all too familiar hand lay on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" a cold voice asked.
Thinking quickly the whore answered, "Checking e-mail."
"For some reason I don't believe you." Ron replied sending shivers down the whore's spine. Reaching around Ron opened the minimized window, and read the information the whore was going to send. "Who is your employer?" Ron asked quietly.
The whore shivered, and tried to pull away. Ron twisted the whore's arm around his back, "Who's your employer?" He repeated.
The whore attempted to calm down, and find an escape rout. Run pulled till the whore's arm snapped at the elbow. The whore screamed, and barley heard Ron repeated the question.
Panic overloaded every thing in the whore's mind, and he struggled desperately. Ron turned him around, and pinned him to the wall. The whore kicked and clawed at Ron. Adrenalin pumping through the whore's veins enhanced his strength and stamina, but Ron clearly out matched him.
Ron backhanded the whore, and then placed his hand on the whore's throat. "Answer me!" Ron growled, applying pressure to the whore's throat, slowly cutting off his air.
"Fred Lou." The whore croaked all thoughts centered on life preservation.
Ron with out a thought pushed his thumb into the whore's throat hard enough to crack his trachea, and dropped him with a satisfied smile. The whore gasped and clawed at his own throat desperately. Ron turn around ignoring the whore as he put his clothing on. Before the whore blacked out completely Ron turned, and sarcastically said. "Thanks." Which was the last thing whore heard before the inky blackness of unconsciousness and death calmed him.
Warning - Ron bastardization. If he you thought was a jerk before...
Note: I know the past few parts were slow, but now the plot gets thicker.
Ron entered a sleazy bar called the Men's Club full of male whores and male erotic dancers, and ready to take care of "business". Ron truly had work to do, but it didn't mean he could not have fun while he did it. Which was why he chose this location for his meeting. And after that he would have some real fun.
Ron sat at a lone table sipping a beer, and watched as a boy no older than 16 removed his skintight short shorts. A cough interrupted Ron just as the boy finished leaving him in a thong that left nothing to the imagination. Turning to the sound, Ron saw his appointment. It was an elderly man in a lab coat that looked very out of place in the club.
Ron smiled, and said, "Doctor, I'm glad to see you on time."
The "doctor" smiled thinly back, and answered. "I would not let my favorite customer wait unnecessarily, Mr. MacDougle."
Ron glared dangerously, and whispered. "I have told you before the name is Williams!"
Unphased the doctor replied, "What ever, Mr. MacDo- Williams. I believe you have an order form to give me."
Ron passed the doctor an electronic notebook, and the doctor glanced through the information. Suddenly a knowing smile spread across the doctor's face. "I'm glad to see your no longer interested in the outdated constructs. Bioandroids are much more economical to make and buy. Not to mention more stable."
"That is why I'm ordering a bioandriod. Harry has become too difficult to handle with his wild mood swings, and he questions my orders to much." Ron said. "But I have heard you've perfected bioandroids so they have all the advantages of the constructs with out the disadvantages."
The doctor smiled, and boasted. "Yes, the first step toward that perfection was the girl that came with the XGP, my old colleague Gwen Khan worked on. But they were only able to remove instability, and she had enough will to disobey. Which of course started that mess years ago." Ron narrowed his eyes dangerously in response to the mention of the XGP and Melfina, but the doctor paid no heed. "You see the advantage of the construct was that not only could it think independently, but also like a human. And to make reasonable decisions without complete information was then out of reach of a computer. So we spliced a human brain with a computer to maximize efficiency, but it not only had a will, it was also unstable. After removing the human brain that was not compatible with the computer, the bioandroid "Melfina" was made. Unfortunately the new brain like computer had a will. But I have fixed that problem, and now any one can have a faithful bioandroid of their own." The doctor smiled, and added, "For a price of course." The doctor paused, and pretended to read the pad.
"Your finances in resent years have diminished greatly. And I fear you cannot afford my product. But because you've been a faithful customer I will give you a deal. You see your old construct, "Harry", would be wonderful for scrape. Every part of him excluding the brain, nerves, and skeletal bones can be used in bioandroids, and are quite expensive and difficult to grow." He passed a moment making calculations in his head. I'll give you a 30% discount for scrapping your, "Harry"."
Ron's forehead creased in thought, but the love he had for Harry was forgotten because of his obsession for revenge. It took less than half a minute when he made the decision. "I need him for a month or two still, but after that he would only be a burden. It's a deal."
The doctor stood, and spoke one last time. "Then everything is set. Good-bye, Mr. MacDougle."
Ron glared angrily at the doctor as he left.
_*_*_*
A man of 19 stood in the shadows of the Men's Club scanning it with his eyes and ears for information. Information was his first job. He bought and sold it daily. He wore cut off shorts barley hiding his ass and a black shirt with so many wholes that it showed more than it hid. That was his second job, selling his body. Surprisingly the jobs worked hand in hand, few new how much a whore could hear. And tonight the whore heard something.
He heard a man say "MacDougle", and the man was immediately corrected. The whore listened in. A new job had been sent to him from Fred Lou, one of his many employers, and it offered 10,000 wong. What made the situation look sweeter was that the man matched MacDougle's description.
When the elderly companion called the other MacDougle as he left, the whore knew it was time to move in. He silently crept behind Ron.
"Hi there handsome." The whore smiled seductively, "Looking for a good time." Ron looked up and down the whore's body, and grabbed the whore's ass. Smiling lecherously Ron answered, "I was, but I think I've found one."
_*_*_*
The whore typed furiously at a computer. He had just finished rummaging through MacDougle's discarded clothing, and found his ships registration and dock number. Now he had to send the information to his employer as soon as possible.
But it was, like most things, easier said than done. Ron slept about five feet away, and there was no telling when he would wake up. To make things more complicated Ron had not been a gentle customer. The whore's nose had been broken, making both eyes black, and another blow made one eye swell shut. The act of typing was near impossible. One hand was completely useless with broken fingers. General pain didn't help either.
Despite it all the whore was determined to send the information tonight. The violent treatment only added to the 10,000 wong incentive.
The whore jumped as a heavy and a now all too familiar hand lay on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" a cold voice asked.
Thinking quickly the whore answered, "Checking e-mail."
"For some reason I don't believe you." Ron replied sending shivers down the whore's spine. Reaching around Ron opened the minimized window, and read the information the whore was going to send. "Who is your employer?" Ron asked quietly.
The whore shivered, and tried to pull away. Ron twisted the whore's arm around his back, "Who's your employer?" He repeated.
The whore attempted to calm down, and find an escape rout. Run pulled till the whore's arm snapped at the elbow. The whore screamed, and barley heard Ron repeated the question.
Panic overloaded every thing in the whore's mind, and he struggled desperately. Ron turned him around, and pinned him to the wall. The whore kicked and clawed at Ron. Adrenalin pumping through the whore's veins enhanced his strength and stamina, but Ron clearly out matched him.
Ron backhanded the whore, and then placed his hand on the whore's throat. "Answer me!" Ron growled, applying pressure to the whore's throat, slowly cutting off his air.
"Fred Lou." The whore croaked all thoughts centered on life preservation.
Ron with out a thought pushed his thumb into the whore's throat hard enough to crack his trachea, and dropped him with a satisfied smile. The whore gasped and clawed at his own throat desperately. Ron turn around ignoring the whore as he put his clothing on. Before the whore blacked out completely Ron turned, and sarcastically said. "Thanks." Which was the last thing whore heard before the inky blackness of unconsciousness and death calmed him.