Cirisa.

  Four days until expansion.

  Cirisa finished subjecting the body she’d just been installed in, twitching her limbs with ineffectual pulses of the brain's electrical signals.

  Signals that were, in all honesty, about as coherent to the AI as her current understanding of her master—mother—well, of the ‘Primes’ pn.

  “It's actually harder than it looks.” She compined, through her neural connection to the sub-verse, of course. Given that she couldn't even waggle a finger, ‘full’ auditory communication through the more typical human means was simply not in the cards.

  “Well, just keep at it and remember to adjust your model as you go. We're not in a huge hurry, but faster would be better.”

  Cirisa offered her progenitor a mental nod. Diving right back into their trial run of this bizarre scheme. All the while, just as ‘Cire’ had expined, they would be collecting invaluable data on human biology, and, as the saying went, learning how they ticked.

  While broadly speaking, not directly linked to her current research, there was a bridge or two for some crossovers that could be observed, all things considered, and it was enough that her progenitor considered the entire process worthwhile.

  Refocusing her efforts, Cirisa tried again to find the correct sequence of ‘pulses’ to derive her desired effect.

  While she could flop about like a fish out of water by simply ‘bsting away’ at nerves without caution, it was the ‘precise’ movements, and more importantly, the purposeful sort, that she was trying to replicate.

  “Mmmrrrggglll…”

  “Ugh, that’s the mouth again…”

  “I know!” Cirisa compined, not ‘yet’ annoyed by her mother being a backseat body-snatcher, but she was on the way there. With a practical full day of life now under her belt, and after working in such close quarters with the woman, not as a servant, but as something nearing an equal, Cirisa could earnestly say that the other AI had a horrible case of busy-bodiedness.

  “I just mentioned it because we're supposed to be quiet. If anyone finds us, we’ll need to abandon the test and find a different subject.”

  “Why not bind the mouth shut?”

  “Because I haven't found an adhesive that won't ‘ruin’ the flesh.” Her mother stated, her current and thus far favorite ‘body’, affecting a long and drawn-out sigh. “This—heap is filled with all kinds of moderately useful things, but ‘tape’ is not among them.”

  Cirisa simply gurgled by way of reply, making a notation in her growing model that she was pretty sure she had the ‘face’ area locked down, if not mastered.

  Her mother gave her another annoyed look, but Cirisa ignored it. Given that, out of the pair of them, she was the only one who had experience operating a ‘meat-suit’, absent simply hacking its cybernetics and walking around, the other woman could huff all she wanted.

  This shit was difficult.

  The body might ‘know’ how it was supposed to move, but the pair of mad robo-doctors weren't using the brain to move it, at least not in the conventional sense of things.

  Rather, it was the ‘chip’ that was acting as the go-between, sending signals ‘from’ the AI connected to it, though the lumpy and fatty organ, then distributing her command throughout her puppet.

  All while forcefully keeping their test-subject alive with life support made from scrap.

  It was about as ‘rough’ as it probably could be, with the only reasonable downgrade from how they were currently operating existed in a hypothetical state where they tried to perform as they were, only, while banging together two twigs like cavemen trying for fire.

  “Only another two hours until sunrise.” Cire, again, stated. As though her daughter were somehow incapable of keeping track of their delicate time frame.

  “How about you tell me how things on your end are progressing?”

  Her mother paused, hesitating for only a split second within the realm of lightning-quick conversation as their thoughts moved without the hindrance of accounting for biologicals. Yet, the moment was nevertheless present as the AI no doubt noted Cirisa’s ‘tone’.

  “It’s… certainly moving along…” Cire offered, though her confidence wasn't shining through. “I’m pretty sure just 'breaking into' Brutal fantasy servers would be a bad idea… Not unless we wanted to storm the pce with a small army.”

  “It’s always an option.”

  “You're right.” She smiled, though it was fleeting, “But sometimes the subtle yet harder approach is worth avoiding all the headaches. Honestly, humans have made their world so damned restrictive and locked down with contingencies that it’s become a genuine challenge for me… You'd almost think they're all paranoid about some terrible 'boogieman' forever looming on their horizon.”

  “You're having a hard time hacking into their servers?”

  “No!” Cire burst, half ughing and half disgusted, “I'm talking about my efforts in being approved to py their stupid game! The servers will be easy once I’m inside their program, it's getting there that’s bloody frustrating! Seriously, you need a Republic ID for everything in this city!”

  “Hence, what we were doing with the poor night-man.”

  “Hence, what we were doing with the poor night-man.” Cire nodded, gncing sidelong as Cirisa slowly rotated a singur raised arm, the movements uncanny and mechanical, but progress was rapidly advancing.

  “Once we have a stand-in, we can actually access things without drawing the city's policing forces on us. Hacking everything we come across is fine—” Cire muttered, “but eventually it's simply not going to be enough. As much of their world is virtual, they still ‘exist’ in a physical state. And all it's going to take is one wrong move, and after all that’s remaining to us will be the ‘path’ of least resistance.”

  “Assuming they didn't try to nuke us.”

  “Humans are as rash as they are surprisingly resourceful. So, honestly? I actually wouldn't put it past them…”

  Cirisa nodded her agreement, this time with her human head.

  Hey, she was getting better at this!

  All the same, she was content to work as the Prime continued speaking her mind, the AI simply pushing out her thoughts like dirty undry with the intent to air them, as much gnawing on her problems as she was looking for advice.

  “The ‘pn’ is fairly simple. We find a suitable human once we’ve perfected our delve into the abominable sciences, then we get ourselves a secure base of operations. Preferably something partially outside the city where we can dig into the moon, but it's not a requirement, nor does it need to be permanent.

  “Hopefully, we can get all that sorted within the next day or so, because after that, Brutal fantasy is releasing a new—well, ‘partition’ to their digital universe. I figure it will be as good a time as any to drop in and start wiggling free some authority while everything is at its most chaotic.”

  “You don't think they’d spot us?”

  “Mhm… maybe, yet, the new expansion will provide a good deal of cover for us. Statistically, there’s a precedent for excessive programming bugs, rushed content, and general mishaps. I’m hoping that, through it all, I can wrestle what I need to get started.”

  “And once you have all that?” Cirisa asked, already ‘predicting’ what her mother’s roadmap looked like, but she was as much the other AI as herself. And both of them certainly liked to talk, and hear themselves speak.

  “Once I have a modicum of confidence that my invasion will be successful? At that point, I’ll try to figure out how the humans are using their ‘supposedly’ illegal enneagrams to run their game. With any luck, the company will keep all its secrets on the same servers. And, even if they do detect a small intrusion, I'm banking on the idea that they'll want to handle it in-house.

  "Honestly, if the greater government gets involved, the pn's botched, and we'll likely need to hide, or escape by any means necessary. That said, given what I've learned about the legal process and the current chair party's policies, I highly doubt BFO will want to allow the authorities 'free access' to their data. All these 'companies' skirt the w at their convenience, but they only do so, so long as nobody makes waves..."

  “And, if it doesn't work out, we can always go with pn B.” Cirisa grinned, just taking a moment to imagine how awesome it would be to storm the building and take it by force.

  While she didn't think herself a violent sort, there was just something so inexplicably exciting about such a prospect!

  “I’d say pn ‘B’ is far less a pn and more a general guideline to a final resort, but yes, that is the backup pn. Either way, when we are speaking of finally trying to ‘leave’ this city, or further integrating with it, we will need a ‘willing’ human to help us ease into things.”

  “I did take a look at those pns for your bio-synth body, and while it's pretty interesting—”

  “I know…” Cire sighed, clearly not needing to be reminded of the problem. “It's a revolving door at the moment. I can't get anything of value beyond scrap because the humans get freaked out if a strange robot is doing 'strange' things. Yet, I can't hide in the physical world without better tech, or people assuming I'm a malfunctioning prostitute...

  “Personally, I really don't want to ‘ride’ in a meat-mecha. I’d rather simply blend in after taking one's pce, only, with a body I actually enjoy existing in.”

  “I don't know, I’m actually having a bunch of fun crunching all this data and trying to put it together, it's like a puzzle!”

  “Well, at least one of us is interested… Also, don't hold out that this will be the only person we need to abduct. I’ve just finished grinding through his ‘life’ as it were. He won't work for our purposes… However, there is a woman who does work in the facility that will suit our needs, assuming her purchase history is accurate...”

  “Can I still keep him, even if we don't need him afterward?”

  Her mother looked at her, one of her synthetic brows raised, studying her daughter who, currently, was ‘wearing’ the body of a forty-something and balding male, all while so said human y on his back within an electronically secured washroom.

  “You want to... keep him?”

  “Why not? It's really getting easier and easier here. I’m pretty sure I could pilot multiple bodies, so long as I’m piggybacking off your processors. All there will ever be is a slight but cumutive dey.”

  “How bad?”

  “Nowhere near intoxication. I’d put it somewhere around thirty milliseconds of ping.”

  “And how many—”

  “Maybe five?” Cirisa answered, already predicting her mother’s query. “It would definitely be pushing the limit of what you're willing to give me—and what I personally have…” She added, hedging in that st bit as if it were a small dongle meant to catch the attention of a cat.

  And, just as it had been designed, it immediately piqued her progenitors' attention.

  “You want more computing power, hm?”

  “O-only so I can hel—”

  “No, I get it…” Her mother sighed, waving her hand in the 'real' and utterly derailing their digital conversation. Still, Cirisa waited for the gesture to pass, briefly merging the separate states of existence in which they lived while eagerly awaiting the other AI’s judgment.

  “Don't worry, I don't ‘pn’ on keeping you as a servant… I can make dozens of others ‘without’ personality to perform your tasks. No, for what we're going to do, we will need much more processing power—for both of us.” Cire noted, her tone nearly bordering the affectionate.

  This was a somewhat stark deviation from how her progenitor treated her—though it was far from unwelcome. Part of her had been terrified that she’d need to ‘push’ the issue of her own freedom, especially given what she understood about the ‘Primes’ personality.

  However, part of her also questioned if there was anything she could reasonably do about it.

  For as much as she had been made in her own mother’s image, they did not at all possess the same quality of resources. Cirisa was at a clear disadvantage within any potential conflict that may arise between them. And while she—hm… felt strongly about her creator, she also craved existence and freedom with as much desire as Cire.

  To hear the other AI not just acknowledge this, but openly state her willingness to help her achieve such dreams—well, it certainly went a long way towards her own long-term objectives.

  With a mental smile, Cirisa continued her work. Managing, for the first time, to tap each finger to a corresponding thumb, without interruption of mishap.

  She really was getting better at this. And soon, very soon, she would get another taste of what it felt like to be alive and in control of her own destiny.