Erotic Art and Fiction from Stormbringer Enterprises - Cybrotica

Cybrotica Arrives in Time

The viewscreen on the apartment wall mutely displayed it's scenes of increasingly frenzied activity as the clock in the corner counted down the seconds. Jarlik had no interest in listening to the artificially enthusiastic tones of a blow-dried and airheaded TV announcer who would probably rather be at home with her family; nor did he care about the crowds gathered in Times Square preparing to herald a new year with an excess of alcohol, loudly off-tune songs and maybe a little hand-holding.

But of course, no kissing, let alone embracing. The MPs would make sure of that and their snoopcams were everywhere.

All Jarlik wanted was the clock but it was frowned upon to display anti-social tendencies by not watching TV every evening. So the fifty inch wall panel was switched on in the approved manner. If they asked about it later, he would say he turned the sound down because of a migraine but hadn't wanted to miss the traditional new year's welcoming celebrations. It was a bit thin but it would probably pass so long as the authorities were busy. Most likely they would be. There were always plenty of reports of illegal sexual contact in the days following January 1st; drunken citizens already hyped-up by the festive atmosphere and recommended alcohol intake tended to get carried away by the unaccustomed contact of flesh against naked flesh when holding hands with a stranger to sing Auld Lang Syne. It was an explosive mixture and one which resulted in hundreds of people every year being taken to the re-education facilities but one which the government had so far allowed to continue.

Three... two... one... zero! The digital display reached it's goal and the screen was momentarily filled with a montage of graphics to announce the arrival of 2098. Moments later those animations faded into a cut-screen view of blonde announcer and celebrating crowds. Blue eyes sparkled with affected enthusiasm whilst pouting lips opened and closed in silent hysteria; how much better that face would look with some touches of illegal cosmetics, Jarlik thought to himself while preparing to hold off his impatience for the expected 30 minutes of TV viewing before he could safely turn off the screen. Then his attention switched to the other half of the broadcast as a camera zoomed in. A youngish man and woman were clearly in contravention of the Public Decency Act of 2031, arms around each other and lips making contact in a prohibited kiss! The announcer must have seen it on a studio monitor too, because her face was registering the correct attitude of shocked disgust. It didn't last long though. A cadre of Morality Police, easily identified by their sterile gray uniforms, shoved their way hurriedly through the crowds and the couple were apprehended. Cameras zoomed out as the criminals were dragged off to face trial, still staggering from the effects of tazers used to separate them, and normal celebrations resumed again.

At last the clock reached 00.30 and Jarlik could switch off the TV. Ostentatiously stretching and faking a yawn to hide his excitement, the man headed towards his bedroom. There was a snoopcam in that room too, of course, just as there was everywhere else. But to avoid corrupting the watchers, it was programmed to pixelate images while he got ready for bed. That gave him the time and opportunity to perform the first of his illicit activities. Lying down carefully in the correct position, he waited a minute and then pressed a concealed switch. Unknown to anyone watching, once his bedroom snoopcam again displayed a clear image, it was transmitting a recording of the man as he had been months earlier, taking the recommended seven hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Jarlik waited another minute and then stood up.

Sometimes a confluence of opportunity, ability and motivation come together to transform a random idea from an idle fancy into practical action. So it was with Jarlik's secret. On silent feet he padded across the room and depressed another concealed button to open the hidden door. The apartment was old and he had no idea who had wanted to wall off that room, nor did he really care. Its existence had only come to light by accident whilst he had been replacing some outdated wiring but it had been the first aspect of opportunity for a dream which had been buzzing around in his head for many years.

The ability had been obvious enough. Jarlik was a genius in the fields of electronics, cloning and just about everything else to which he turned his hands. So too was the motivation. Growing old, alone since his wife had died and with no interest in acquiring a new one under the current regime, he still had his needs. But of course those needs would have sent him to re-education in an instant. Coupling may have been approved so long as it was restrained, but there was no way the law allowed wild, uninhibited, sweaty and passionate sex even in private. And that was exactly what Jarlik craved.

Opportunity had provided a room unwatched by snoopcam and unknown to anyone but himself. Motivation gave him the nerve necessary to risk acquiring tools and materials bit by bit from his government research work. Ability had done the rest. With the door securely closed, Jarlik switched on the light in his hidden workshop. No mere hobbyist's collection of implements, the revealed area looked like exactly what it was, an advanced research lab. Jarlik's eyes flittered over his first success, the corner of the room which contained his time machine. It had made sense, of course; all he had to do was go back to a period before the Neocons had seized control and enforced their rigid morality on the world; back to a time of sexual freedom and a government which was unable to watch its population so closely. The experience had been exhilarating but ultimately unsatisfying. True the years before 2025 had been ones in which sex was fairly readily available and uncensored, but at the same time opportunity was limited for someone approaching seventy years of age unless he was willing to pay. A few experiences of the contrived contortions and faked ecstasy of prostitutes had been more than enough. All Jarlik retained from those visits were some unsatisfying memories and a secret collection of pornography that only served to enflame his desires every time he viewed it.

What he needed was someone young, female, attractive and uninhibited. Someone who looked something like Racquel, the stunning beauty who worked alongside him in the labs, oblivious to the effect her alluring face and inviting body had on 'the old duffer'. Yes, someone like Racquel but also someone who found him compelling sexually and who was untouched by the moral climate. So he made her.

"Cybrotica," he murmured softly as he walked over to the far side of the room. The keyword activated his construct and an exquisitely naked silver-blue figure stepped out of the shadows to greet him. It hadn't been difficult to obtain a sample of Racquel's DNA and so gain a likeness of her, along with a more accurate analysis of the hidden curves beneath the girl's sterile lab coat than his limited opportunities to peek had provided. And since his own skilled employment was dedicated to keeping senior government figures alive by enabling them to move from body to cloned body, DNA replication was part of his daily work.

Of course he didn't have access to the full range of government facilities so the resultant construct he had created lacked that fully human appearance which is only possible when a body is grown completely in the tanks. However, recent developments in cyber-robotics did provide the technology to create a tactile version of human skin. Its existence was intended to engender a less threatening appearance to artificial workers, whilst its gender-neutral, featureless blued silver surface satisfied the Morality Police that such a being would not incite lewd thoughts in anyone who came into contact with one of those machines. They hadn't counted on the genius of someone like Jarlik, who had discovered a way to combine the synthetic skin with human DNA to produce a figure that was far more realistic than the MPs ever imagined possible and which would have sent them into paroxysms of rage if they ever learned of it. So whilst the scientist's construct was silver-blue, it also carried all the normal attributes of a young, attractive female. And if some of those attributes were a shade more pronounced than nature intended, well, Jarlik was human after all...

The challenging part had been programming her. In the end, Jarlik had been forced to build upon aspects of his own personality. So while the girl shared his passion for uninhibited sex, filtered, of course, through feelings of love and desire towards her creator, she had also inherited a few other traits; a capacity for independent thought, a huge intellect and an occasional tendency towards bisexuality, caused by his own compulsion towards the female body being combined with the programming which attracted her towards a male. Plus, of course, a hatred of the Neocon repression of any freedom of sexual activity or fantasy which they found distasteful.

Old man and young woman embraced. Passion may have been artificially generated in one of them but it was real nonetheless. Jarlik sighed to himself with pleasure, envying the way Cybrotica could hibernate for long periods while he had to go through the formalities of a normal, tedious life before he could snatch a few precious hours with his lover.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! The sound thundered through the apartment, even muffled as it was by two inner doors. Jarlik looked startled, breaking contact with Cybrotica and almost running back into the bedroom. His worst fears were realised. The viewscreen below the snoopcam was activated and filled by a stern face that had probably never laughed at anything short of torturing a sexcreant. "Don't move! Stay exactly where you are!" The cold voice filled the room. "We know you have been hiding something and my men are on their way in to investigate!"

Jarlik hesitated a brief second. Had the tampered bedroom cam failed him? Had his pilfering of equipment from the lab been discovered? Maybe it was his pattern of using large amounts of electricity? With a start he pulled himself together. It didn't really matter how; what mattered was what he did in the next brief moments. That he was lost went without saying. No detailed examination of his apartment could fail to find the hidden room and ... his Cybrotica! They would send him to re-education but what would they do with her! Anger and loathing suffused his face as he stared at the smug visage peering out from the wall screen. He was damned if those bastards would win!

Whirling around, Jarlik couldn't resist giving the Morality Pig a hand gesture that had been outlawed years before. Then without heeding the outraged response, he dashed back into his workshop and hurriedly barred the door. It would only give him minutes, but that was all he needed. It took agonising seconds for the time machine to warm up, seconds during which he explained the situation to Cybrotica in staccato bursts. Her worried expression inspired him, they would escape to a time before the Neocons had taken control, a time when they could be free to live and love together! A time when they would be safe. And perhaps... a time when their knowledge of the future could change the course of events before it was too late.

Dull thumps shook the room as Jarlik bundled the girl into the machine. No time to get dressed but a silvery helmet was hurriedly jammed onto her lovely head, hiding her face and protecting her eyes during the transit. There was only room for one at a time, so she had to go first. Quickly the man set the programming and activated it's control. His cyber erotic construct, his lovely Cybrotica, wavered before his eyes and disappeared. One more thing to do before he joined her. If he left everything intact it wouldn't take long for the MPs to discover what he had done and follow. Worse, they would have access to a machine which could enable them to change history, making their repressive regime even more effective. That could not be allowed and it was something Jarlik had planned for from when he first discovered the ability to move through time. The lab was wired up to self-destruct if he entered the correct number sequence into his terminal. Scuttling across the room the man did just that, allowing himself a full minute to escape. But as Jarlik ran back towards his machine, the door flew open and MPs flooded the room. They had all of twenty seconds to marvel at the sight of a tazered old man giggling vindictively at them while he writhed in agony on the floor. Then their world collapsed into smoking ruin.

Cybrotica waited hours but Jarlik never showed up in the quiet alley where she had materialised. Sadly she made her way out into the world of the past, possessing little more than her inherited abilities and an absolute hatred of the Neocons who had destroyed her love and her creator. Maybe she couldn't bring him back, but perhaps she could do something to achieve his hurriedly explained ideas on how to change history. There must be others who valued sexual freedom enough to fight that insidious poison...

The hunt would lead her to an apparently innocuous office block in a bland business park.