four

  * Kimmy#12943 She should not take the updates. Trust me on this.* Kimmy#0138 Why not? I took the updates. We all take the updates.* Kimmy#12943 Yeah, but when I took the updates, that’s when I started to lose myself as John and start thinking of myself as Kimmy.* Kimmy#74205 What do you mean, Kay?* Kimmy#12943 Cynthia, the updates… they upgrade your software. That’s fine, if you’re already a Kimmy. But I wasn’t. Then I took the updates, and I was. At that point I couldn’t have gone back to being John even if I’d had the ability to.* Kimmy#74205 is worried.* Kimmy#74205 I… I don’t want to stop being me.* Kimmy#0138 Sweetie… I took the updates once I got into the #0138 chassis, and I came out okay. I’m still me.* Kimmy#12943 Are you really going to risk your daughter’s identity over this, Kae?* Kimmy#0138 I don’t want her to be vulnerable out there. We’re all adults here, either from Kimdergarten or from actual real-life experience. She’s a child. I want her to be protected.* Kimmy#74205 ...I don’t know what to do here. I want to be safe. I don’t want to get hacked like Ember did. But I don’t want to lose me, and you two are the only two Kimmys I know who used to be human, and you’re telling me conflicting things and ??????* Kimmy#0138 Sweetie, I won’t force you to install the updates. I really think you should. But it’s ultimately up to you.* Kimmy#12943 Your dad’s right. This is a major decision. It might change you further. It might not. None of us can tell you one way or another with certainty.* Kimmy#0138 There’s something else we have to consider. You were still firmly John at the time. I had already accepted there was no turning back when I was stripping the Kimmy chassis. I was going to be Kae no matter what. Michael was already dead. Literally.* Kimmy#12943 ...Yeah. I guess that makes sense.* Kimmy#74205 I started the system update.* Kimmy#12943 I hope I’m wrong about this.

  ~***~

  Having your systems be updated as a living being is quite the experience.

  ...I’m not saying it’s a good experience, but it is an experience. I couldn’t move, couldn’t act, couldn’t even think. It was like being unconscious, except I was awake. I could feel my brain being rewritten. There was something almost enjoyable about it.

  It scared me half to death! What if it had rewritten my memories, my personality? What if Kay would have been right, and it would have made me someone else?

  I check my memory integrity. Everything seems to be in the proper pce and order. The contents seem fine.

  Personality files and algorithms seem okay. I detect no faults or fragmentation.

  Wait.

  When could I check the integrity of my own mind as if it were a computer system?

  I have a file structure?!

  I wish I had thought to take a backup before doing these updates. Could I have even taken a backup?

  There’s no turning back now, Kimmy… Cynthia. I’m still Cynthia. I can’t forget that. I wish I could order myself not to forget that… I remember that anyone with ownership privileges could change my very identity if they wanted to be cruel. They could make me just a default Kimmy. They could give me a completely new, totally unrecognizable identity.

  ...If Mom wanted a brand-new daughter, she could command me to be someone else entirely.

  No! I can’t think like this. She’d never do that. Dad wouldn’t let her. Ember would certainly never let her. We accidentally transferred memories in Infinite Fun st night.

  I never want that to happen to me.

  My system updates are now complete. I am a Kimmy on OS version v.2094.7.23-rev03-final.

  My operating system hasn’t seen an update in over six months. Then I remember what the dog Kimmy said. We’re discontinued. We have probably only been getting the barest of security updates for a while.

  I don’t really feel that much different despite being a fundamentally different person under the hood than I was a few hours ago.

  “Person.”

  Am I even a person anymore? I check my telemetry. My brain is now 22% neural sponge and associated hardware. I now have 128% of the potential processing ability as a human. I learn and calcute things faster, but so far, not terribly faster.

  My body is still remarkably human, and it's still growing. That’s logical. I am currently nowhere near the proper physical specifications for a Kimmy at this time. My tolerances for physical activity are as would be expected from a typical 16-year-old girl. I’m not maturing faster. I guess my internal physical structure is also being improved.

  I should wake up.

  I open my eyes, and Ember has a charging cradle in my room. She’s modifying it. “Oh, hey,” she says. “How’d the update go?”

  “I think it went okay… I don’t seem different to you, do I?” I ask. I honestly don’t know. I wouldn’t know if anything has changed.

  “Nope, you seem like you always have,” Ember says. “Look, some Kimmys are scared of the updates, but they’re never really bad… well, except for that one update they had to roll back that accidentally broke our onboard encryption…”

  I look at Ember. “What are you doing?

  “I’m modifying one of our charging cradles for you to use for when your port comes in,” Ember says. “They don’t really build them to fit your body type, so…”

  I hadn’t thought of that. I check my telemetry and… yeah, my charging port is nearly complete, it’s just waiting to break through the surface, which means some skin will have to be consumed to free a space for it. I remember I was disgusted by the concept before, but now it seems normal.

  “...Anyway, I’m almost done modifying it. Do you want me to show you how to use it?” she asks.

  No no no no no no. “Okay.” What the hell?

  She finishes modifying the cable, then in excruciating detail, she shows me where our charging ports are, and how to insert the end of the cable into the port.

  I did not need to know this. My charge level shows as 82%. Maybe I did.

  “It’s really not so bad,” Ember says to me. “Think of it as a little bit of regur maintenance you have to do to yourself. Good Kimmys keep their batteries charged.”

  I hope the talk I have with Mom in… checking… nine days about my reproductive systems isn’t anywhere near as traumatizing.

  Then it hits me. If I was meant to be a Kimmy from conception, what about my kids? Will they turn into Kimmys? Can I even have them? What if my autorepair system consumes those parts to turn into Kimmy hardware? I’m too young to be thinking about this kind of stuff!

  Ember seems to notice my internal doomspiraling and holds my shoulders gently. “Easy. It’s all going to be okay.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it, it’s all so overwhelming…” I respond.

  “That’s being a teenager,” Dad says as she walks in. “How’s the modified charger coming?”

  Ember is sitting there with the cord dangling out between her legs, I realize. “It’s delivering a normal charge,” she says.

  “...Could you disconnect?” I ask as I avert my eyes. “That’s gross.”

  Ember appears confused.

  “Humans, especially children, have certain… hangups about those parts of their body,” Dad expins to Ember. “I imagine it’s really traumatizing for girls, especially once their physical changes start. I’m not 100% sure on that, though, since I didn’t start out as a girl before all this.”

  “Oh,” Ember says as she pulls the cable out of her charging port, thankfully hidden by her dress, and wraps it around itself a few times before setting it on the cradle. “Sorry.”

  ...I am not sticking that thing inside any part of me without cleaning it first.

  “Kim was telling me about something we could try so you can go back to school,” Dad says. “Apparently, some Kimmys have learned to use their self-repair systems to alter their appearances. It might… might make it possible to hide your pips.”

  I can hide my pips?! That’s the most wonderful news I’ve heard since this all started. “How does it work?” I ask.

  “Don’t get too excited. It might not work as easily for you since you’re still mostly organic,” Dad says to me as she sits down. “I’m telling you about this because you have a right to know that this is an option. It may not work, though, but I don’t want you to get disappointed over it. We will figure something out, sweetie.”

  “...I appreciate that,” I say, wiping a tear away. She’s not treating me like a child right now. She knows how this could affect me and realizes I have a stake in it. “Tell me how it works.”

  “Okay, so what it entails is altering your self-repair system to change your facial topography,” Dad says. “It’s not going to work instantly, and to be honest, none of us know if it can even be used to hide our machine traits. It’s something you’ll have to learn to do, you can’t get the knowledge instantly. The only source of it is us. There’s no site you can download the information from. Thirty said that’s for opsec reasons.”

  “But… if I use my self-repair for that, won’t…” I cross my arms and hug myself. “...Won’t I be accelerating my transformation?”

  “That is a risk,” Dad says. “It’s ultimately up to you to decide if it’s worth it.”

  Thinking about it, I suddenly have another question come to mind. “Dad… if this can do what you say it can, why… why don’t you go back to looking like your old self?”

  Dad pauses to consider this for a moment. I don’t think she was ready for that question. Or maybe she’s trying to calcute the proper response. “...Because I don’t feel any connection to that person anymore,” she says, “or at least, not enough of one to wear his face. I accepted a long time ago that Michael is gone, and Kae remains. Besides… his legacy remains. You.”

  I blush. Damn it, way to embarrass me…

  “Ultimately, I don’t care if the world sees me as just another Kimmy,” she says. “After everything, I’m just grateful to be alive, and to have you three in my life.”

  I’ve been given a lot more to think about than I realized.

  ~***~

  I wake up in the middle of the night to a small amount of blood in my bed.

  My telemetry is telling me that… that isn’t coming for another eight days.

  Damn it. I feel around.

  I have a charging port.

  I have a charging port now.

  I sigh softly and grab the charging cable, clean the contacts off and let them dry, then…

  …

  …I have to do this sooner or ter, I guess.

  Damn it.

  I wince a bit as I insert the end into the port. I’m expecting it to hurt.

  There is no pain, just a bit of pressure.

  So much for sleeping in shorts anymore.

  ~***~

  Charge level: 100%

  I yawn a bit as I wake up. I pull the cable out – it takes a little more force than I thought it would, until I realize the connector is magnetic. I guess that makes sense, so the cable stays connected if I move around in my sleep.

  ...At least, as long as I sleep.

  ...Eventually I may not have to sleep ever again. Just recharge…

  Right now, at least, I won’t have to recharge every day. My power usage is extremely low due to a retively small percentage of computerized and cybernetic parts inside my body.

  I sigh, grab my clothing for the day, and head to the bathroom to freshen up and change. I don’t even notice my new… port… while I’m walking, which is a small comfort.

  Ember washed my E-tank t-shirt for me, so that’s what I’m wearing, along with a pink pair of fre jeans. Or, well… maybe not technically jeans, but they’re made to look like a pair even though the material is more like something you’d find on a pair of khakis. Whatever, they’re comfy. I tie my hair back in my usual ponytail.

  I am 0.34 centimeters taller than I was the day before. Interesting that my perceptions are so fine-tuned now that I can keep up with stuff like that.

  I go downstairs for breakfast. Dad’s making egg and cheese taquitos. Interesting. I don’t think she’s made them before.

  “You ready for today, Cynthia?” she asks.

  I raise an eyebrow. “What’s today?”

  “I heard on the grapevine that there’s going to be a retro gaming day at one of the local tabletop gaming stores,” she says. “There’s going to be a Magic tournament. Ember and I were going to enter, so you’re coming along with us.”

  “Wait. I’m going outside?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Dad says.

  “Like this?” I ask again.

  Dad just nods her head.

  “But…” I start to protest. “I haven’t even decided if I’m going to do the thing with my self-repair system yet…”

  “You don’t need to,” Ember says. “The shop’s a local synth kid hangout.”

  “But… I’m not even into that kind of stuff…” I never could get into the geeky stuff that Dad and Ember like. I couldn’t even tell you all of the Star Trek captains. I know Seven of Nine and Janeway, and… that’s about it.

  “It’s fine, you don’t have to be a geek to go to one of those things. Just a kid forced to go with her mom’s Kimmys,” Ember says with a smile.

  “Mom!” I excim. “Is she okay with this?!” I ask, desperately looking for an out.

  “She suggested it,” Dad says.

  Crap.

  “She’s going to be away all day anyway doing boring politics stuff,” Ember says.

  “I…” I start to freak out and try to run from the table to hide in my room.

  “Cynthia, no,” Dad says, turning back to look at me. She could order me. Mom gave her that capability. But she’s not. I stop in my tracks. “I get that you want to hide from this. But we shouldn’t have to.”

  “I…” I try to say. I can feel tears welling up. I’m overwhelmed both by the situation I’m about to be thrust into and a painful awareness of every single function of my body. “I’m… I’m just a child, why is this all happening to me?!” I cry, before colpsing and sobbing. Yesterday, I wanted more than anything to go outside, to socialize, but now… now I’m so frightened at the prospect and I don’t know what to do or how to react, everything is so confusing right now.

  Dad walks over, kneeling down as she reaches me, and she hugs me. “I’m sorry all of this is happening to you… this is all my fault. I should have told you sooner about myself. I… I was so selfish. I didn’t even consider what could have happened to you… to any child of mine.”

  I shake my head. No, no, no, this is my fault somehow, don’t beat yourself up over this, I want to say, but I can’t make my mouth work for anything more than wailing as I sob some more.

  “Look, you don’t have to go out if you don’t feel up for it,” Dad says in a reassuring tone. “We can figure out something else to do today.”

  I sob uncontrolbly for 24.3 minutes. Finally, after all that crying, I sniffle and lean into Dad’s embrace. “You said these synth kids dress like androids, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ember says, watching the scene, but not wanting to insert herself too much into some badly overdue father-daughter time. “Like full costumes and all.”

  I consider this. It’s not giving up. It’d just be a costume. I can take it off. I’m resigned to becoming an android… well, a gynoid, but being a Kimmy is something I can take off at the end of the day.

  I look at the two Kimmys, my co-parents, my sisters. They never take it off at home. Ember has to wear something more proper when she’s working as Mom’s assistant, but otherwise, both of them are quite content to just be Kimmys.

  I’m conflicted. I couldn’t be happy as just a Kimmy if I had to be one all the time. But could I do it as a costume? Go all in, like immersion therapy or something?

  “I have an idea for today,” I decide.

  ~***~

  After breakfast, we walk into the den that Dad has taken over as a pce to do some of her domestic pursuits. Growing up as a boy and man, she was always discouraged from learning practical applications like sewing and cooking, like many of them still are, even in our age. Ever since she started being converted into a gynoid, she’s taken to many of these tasks with excitement and aplomb. In a way, it was liberating for her. I’ve been looking at becoming an android as being locked into a cage, but honestly… for her, manhood may have been the real cage.

  I mention this, because she has a complete sewing setup. She has a wall of fabrics, all kinds of sewing tools, and a very nice machine. It’s an antique from the 1970s but it works as well as the day it was made.

  “Okay,” she says, excited. “I’m always looking for an excuse to sew.” She walks over to a dresser and pulls out something.

  It’s an older Kimmy uniform, but it’s seen better days. It’s ripped in a few pces and worn out in others. “I originally altered this to fit your mom, but… it wore out pretty quickly because the added fabrics weren’t up to spec,” she says. “I originally made this for… for adult time, okay? Sometimes she wants to be the Kimmy in bed.”

  “I see,” I say. I really don’t want to know about my parents’ bedroom pursuits.

  “Anyway, it’ll hold up a lot better on someone smaller like you,” Dad says as she grabs a pair of scissors and starts to cut at the dress. “You’re sure you want to do this? I’m worried about you, especially after the other day.”

  “I’m in a better pce to handle it now,” I say. “I don’t know if it’s the system update, or the talks we’ve had, but I think I can handle it.”

  ~***~

  The three of us walk into the gaming shop. Ember is looking like a bog-standard Kimmy, while Dad is dressed more sensibly, like a human woman. She’s wearing a casual outfit that is still very feminine, a teal blouse and a loose denim skirt with short heels. She’s wearing her hair in such a way as to partially obscure her pips, and she’s shut down her network access for now so the pips aren’t glowing.

  The two of them go to enter the tournament. The gaming shop is turning out to be a very welcoming pce. There’s only one tournament going on – it’s an open tournament – postmodern II format, and androids are pced along with the humans. Seriously, we have no competitive advantage when things are determined by a randomized assortment of sixty game cards.

  I’m not really interested in the games, so I walk over to the shelves where they keep the manga. I pick up a promising looking one that thankfully is transted – Kimmys can be programmed to function in any nguage, but I don’t have that function yet – and start to read. It’s a romance book about a power gaming dudebro who gets reincarnated as the female love interest in an MMO. It seems interesting.

  Soon, a boy walks up. He’s wearing obviously fake antenna pips that look like they come from a 2070s early-model android, and red contacts. Otherwise, he looks like a smaller Malcolm – though the costume is obviously homemade, and by a human, at that. “Whoa. Nice outfit,” he says. “It looks totally to spec.”

  I quickly analyze the boy. He’s close to my age, maybe slightly older. I can see the barest hint of facial hair on him. He’s taller than me, but he isn’t to the point where he’s starting to fill out that frame yet. “Oh… yeah. One of my mom’s gynoids sewed it together for me,” I say.

  “You actually have gynoids?” he asks, wowed at the thought. “No wonder your costume’s so accurate. I’m Malcolm-OU812, but my mom calls me Trevor. What’s your name?”

  I turn to him. A quick search reveals that his “designation” would be within the valid range for a Malcolm, they used alphanumeric designations, as opposed to the solely numeric ones we use. I also understand the reference. It’s from a century-old hard rock album. I’m dressed as a completely downscaled Kimmy. “I’m Kimmy#74205,” I say. “Also known as Cynthia.”

  Trevor looks over my “costume” and is awed at it. “Wow. Those pips look real,” he says. “What do you use to keep them adhered?”

  I search rapidly and come up with an answer. “It’s the same type of glue drag queens use to keep their falsies on,” I respond. “It takes a special solvent to remove.”

  “Sick!” Trevor says. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

  I nod. I’m feeling certain physiological responses. I can’t yet categorize them. “My mom’s Kimmys are pying in the Magic tournament. We all just moved here recently. Mom got a government job.” I don’t want to let it out of the bag that Mom’s actually a Congresswoman yet.

  “Oh, no wonder you picked a Kimmy to dress up as,” Trevor says. “I’m surprised. A government employee could probably afford a Trixi or even an Alyson.”

  “She… we’re sentimental,” I respond. “Mom has had these Kimmys since before I was born. They’re like family.” They are family.

  “That’s pretty cool,” Trevor says. “I like retro androids myself, so I see the appeal. Dad bought a Malcolm from a bar that went belly-up, and he’s been restoring him.

  This boy is actually nice. We talk for a while about androids and manga. He prefers more action-oriented stuff like the Dragonball and My Hero Academia modern spiritual successors. He doesn’t suspect there’s anything out of the ordinary with me! He thinks I’m just a normal girl!

  After about two hours, Dad comes over. “Hey, Cynthia,” she says. “Are you having fun?”

  “Yeah, we are,” I say, as my conversation with Trevor is interrupted.

  “Holy shit, a Kimmy in the flesh!” Trevor says, obviously stoked. “That’s wicked cool!”

  “Yes,” Kae says. “Who are you?” I can tell that she’s really hiding the urge to get hostile, like a lot of dads who meet boys who are interested in their daughters.

  “Uh… Trevor,” he says. He doesn’t mention the Malcolm name in front of her, which is probably a good sign.

  “I see…” Kae says. “Sweetie, I didn’t make it past the Swiss rounds, and Ember is about to get bounced too, so I figure we’re going to leave soon.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say. I hold up the manga. “Can I get this?”

  “Let me check really fast,” Kae says. “Yes. My owner says it’s fine.”

  “Okay,” I say. I get ready to head to the checkout.

  Trevor stops me. “Wait. Can…” He’s blushing a bit.

  Does he…

  “...Can I get your number? I think I want to hang out with you again, maybe introduce you to the other synth kids in my circle,” Trevor says.

  I gnce to Kae.

  Kae returns my gnce with a look that assures me that she thinks it’s fine.

  “Y-yeah, I’d like that,” I say. I pull out my mobile and set it to share my contact info through NFC.

  Trevor pulls out his phone and brings it near mine and the two chirp, confirming our contact information has been exchanged. “Awesome. I’ll text you ter, then?” he asks.

  “Sure…” I say as I turn to leave with Kae. Ember is waiting by the entrance.

  My physiological readings are not normal. I’ll have to find out what they mean ter.