Tales of the Ela-pocalypse – the Clone Saga : Neil

The image on the screen in front of me was unmistakably Ela but it was different.  My Elas only wear white clothing made out of a material I can’t identify.  It doesn’t look printed.  It doesn’t even look like it’s artificial.  Whatever that material is that their clothing is made out of it looks soft, like it came from an animal with fur maybe.  I wish my blanket was made out of that.  Or the covering on my ComfortSoft Recliner.  Or both.     

This Ela was wearing normal clothes.  Well not normal, but not a soft white suit with puffy shoes.  This Ela was dressed like a character from a classic sim, not one jumpsuit but many different layers, little bits of metal in her ears and on her hands, and her skin was darker.  Maybe from the sun?  Not just that, I think she was wearing cosmetics too like the Executive Assistants do.  I saw one of them on an all Staff call and she looked like that sort of, maybe she had an implant that makes her skin morphic like the Apartment walls.

The biggest difference was her hair.  All my Elas have short hair.  You’d never mistake them for male but the drones keep their hair very short.  I saw them cut their hair once.  They probably do it to help control lice.  Having your hair that short must make it darker because the Ela in front of me had long hair that was a color that Apartment would call badious.  I don’t know how to explain it but this hair was tied to itself somehow in a way that made it into different shapes.  Parts of it flowed down like water.  Other parts floated like they were weightless.  It was like a crown made of hair instead of gold.   

The image was so beautiful I could have started crying.  I might have if whoever was on the other end wasn’t about to blackmail me into doing their work.  That kept me from getting too emotional.  I wish I could have screencapped that image and kept it but it would have been too dangerous.   

“Nice re-skin” I said.   

The image reacted with a bit of surprise but there was a tiny bit of lag.  I bet most people wouldn’t even notice it but I have a good eye for those kinds of details.  I’ve never interacted with a pirate link before but bet that’s what this is, that little hiccup would never happen on the Company network.   

“So you aren’t as stupid as you seem.” 

The modulation they were using was better than anything I’d ever heard, even sexier than Melina version 3.7, actually I don’t care what upgrade version, this was better.  I’ve never heard a voice like that before.  It had to be a real voice they recorded, no digital pattern could have that much soul.  I wish there was a singer out there with a voice like that.  I would love to hear that voice singing.   Maybe an old song to go with her old clothes, like that’s her hook.  Every good entertainer needs a hook.

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?  I can forward you my intelligence profile.”

The image smirked, making that lovely mouth ugly, which should be a crime “I’ve already read all your profiles Neil, very boring stuff, no offense.  I need to know how you’re getting that signal.”

“Why?”

The image glitched ever so slightly with a shake of the head “Don’t worry about it.  Tell me what you did and I’ll give you access to all the footage of the clone farm you’d ever want.  You can see them doing all kinds of interesting and non-interesting things in various states of dress and undress.  You can even watch the zeros get put down if that’s your thing.  I have footage all the way back to when the original thousand slid out all naked and covered with slime.  Would you like to see that Neil?”

“Who are you?”

The voice modulator cut for a second as they laughed, it was just a second but their true voice sounded mean “Don’t worry about it Neil.  Just pretend like you’re on shift and don’t think about what you’re doing or the consequences of your actions.  What we’re doing here is a simple transaction.  You tell me how you did it and I’ll give you footage of your ladies back to the very beginning.  Enough to last you the rest of your sad little life spread out forty-five minutes at a time.”

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