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Techno Dildo	By : DoveCG Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 1728 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor anything else in their franchise. I make no money writing this. I doubt anyone would pay me for it anyway.

Chapter List
- 1-Errol in the Machine
- 1
Author's Note:
Cyber Errol makes best sex toy! He will love you long time. But no means no, 'kay? Lookin' at you, mechanic girl. Ha ha, no, really, totally consensual up in here.
On a more serious note, I prefer to spell it Errol for Cyber Errol, and Erol for the human commander, but I don't like to mix and match, because it looks sloppy, so it's just the former in this fic. Could be some mistakes though, since my natural inclination is to use only one r. He's completely cybernetic in this, not exactly a cyborg. Think Ghost in the Shell level. Wasn't sure if that counted as other tag? But I included transform because... well, he wasn't one in the first game. :P
Btw, I love writing the Naughty Ottsel differently every time I include it, which is almost every time. Or rather, the areas we don't see of it. I get bored with making the Naughty the same size and with the exact same interior dimensions. It might not be obvious in some of these stories, since I don't have all of their chapters up yet, but it should be soon enough.
And this is one of the ones where I have bits and pieces in disarray, so I have some of the future chapters, but this was the best cut-off point for now. I tried to make the exposition gentle. Please let me know if it was too heavy-handed. :1
Also, this is named for a Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt OST. Great series; great music! Don't listen to at least half of them in public, though. The names aren't the only cheeky thing about them. You have been warned.

Errol had assumed, if he survived his errant attempt to run Jak over, that he'd wake up feeling like absolute shit and walking around on crutches. At the very least, there should have been stabbing pain from broken ribs and heavy bruising!
His eyes regained their focus, while staring at the ceiling overhead, and still there was no sensation at all. At first, he thought the accident might have paralyzed him from the neck down and he panicked. Being forced to sit in a wheel chair, until he died of old age, was the worst thing he could imagine.
He glanced around wildly and found himself staring up at Keira, who was removing her goggles, her mouth opened slightly in awe.
“It worked! Can you talk?” Keira asked.
“Keira?”
His tongue felt heavy. He was having to remember how to speak, as if he hadn't done so in a long time. Stranger still, he couldn't tell if his mouth felt moist or dry. When he licked his lips, he couldn't be certain that he had. He willed himself upright and his view began to change, but he only felt the weight shifting. An odd grinding sound reached his ears, startling him further.
“Oh, let me oil that,” Keira said.
When she lifted up a small can, he looked down to see her pushing the thin spout up against an elbow joint that clearly belonged to a Death Bot. He looked further and saw the weird, animal-shaped legs they had. As he glanced back up, he noticed these connected to a metallic pair of hips, resting where his own should be, if his spatial perception wasn't off. A sense of loathing set in, as he noticed the other arm, more slender and ending in a completely human hand. He thought of it raising up in front of his face, where he could examine it better, and it did, turning how he wanted it to and flexing when he hoped it would, mimicking flesh and blood surprisingly well. He willed it back down, assuming it would be needed for balance if he were to go about examining the other much larger and cruder hand that doubled as a gun. Horror began to overwhelm him as the grim truth reared its ugly, freakish head.
“No! It's okay,” Keira said, “You're okay now.”
Errol saw the huge fist begin to shake and slammed it back down onto the raised platform that he was lying on. It left a small dent.
“This isn't okay!” Errol said, “What am I?! Where am I?!”
Keira stepped back, her hands held up in an attempt to placate him. Errol rolled off the platform, a zoomer lift apparently, and landed with a hefty, clanking thud. His motions were smoother than he had expected, almost elegant. He paused to raise one strange foot and tried wiggling his three rounded toes, but it looked more like a bird trying to grip something in its claw.
“Calm down,” Keira said, “You're safe.”
Errol glared at her, while planting his foot firmly onto the floor with a dull thud, and she flinched.
“Death Bots are the farthest thing from safe!” Errol said, “Answer me!”
He walked over to her, as swiftly as a Leaper, and found that he stood maybe a foot taller than he had before, while peering down with a fierce gaze, in an attempt to regain his old sense of authority. Keira cowered, holding her arms up in front of her, as if to ward off an expectant blow, and he paused to reflect. As frightened as he was, Keira looked more frightened. He needed to pull himself together. He was the man in their relationship... or he had been. What the fuck was he now?
“Please, don't do that. I'd never strike you,” Errol said, “But what happened?
Keira stayed that way for a minute, before relaxing with a long exhale. She reached for his humanoid hand, and he helped to entwine their fingers. He worried for a moment, remembering the dent from before, but his body instinctively knew what would be too tight, automatically stopping within the appropriate threshold. He couldn't feel her bare hand, with this blue glove in the way, but not even the blue glove seemed to be there on his skin, though he was looking straight at it. The hand underneath it moved like flesh, but did he have any now?
“Do you remember the Class One Race?” Keira asked.
Errol scowled. How could he forget?
“I lost.”
Keira nodded and he let go of her hand, to cup her chin and tilt it up. Again, he knew when his grip should stop, in order to keep her unharmed. Keira seemed surprised, but she kept her eyes leveled on his, clearly relieved at his tenderness.
“You hit the Dark Eco supply head on,” Keira said, “I thought you were a goner! The explosion was huge! And you looked awful when the Guards pulled you out of the wreckage.”
Errol frowned, unable to believe or remember it properly, even though he could imagine it quite well.
“So I died?” Errol asked.
“You were badly damaged and in a coma!” Keira said, “The doctors at the hospital did what they could, but Green Eco wasn't enough to wake you up. Even my father couldn't help!”
Errol blinked. He looked around. This wasn't a hospital by any means. He'd only been here a few times, but he remembered it. They were in the factory that made the KG Death Bot prototypes.
“Was I on life support?” Errol asked.
Keira nodded again and gingerly put her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead up against the plate of armor across his chest, where his pecs would have been on his human body. He placed his humanoid hand on top of her head, and ruffled her short, blue-green hair affectionately, missing the soft sensation he remembered. At least Keira was enjoying it, from the way she leaned into his touch.
“You were, for awhile. Then one day, when I came to visit you, the bed was empty! I was so scared and happy at first. I asked if you'd woken up, but they said they didn't think you were going to get better and,” Keira said, “And that they pulled the plug.”
She looked away, and sniffled slightly, as if choked up, though she didn't seem to spasm with tears, from what he could tell. He moved his hand lower, to press gently between her shoulder blades.
“So, I am dead,” Erol said.
It echoed hollow. How could he be dead when he was moving around? Talking? Cradling Keira to him with this cybernetic body?
“No!” she said, “Those jerks lied to me! Someone paid off the staff, but I didn't know until they contacted me. I think it's some of the former Krimzon Guard in charge of this... whatever it is. They might have been under orders from the Baron, but then when he died, they decided to keep doing whatever this is in secret.”
Errol frowned. Someone had bought him? Even if it had been the Baron, initially, or a group who had been under his leadership prior, he couldn't stop a phantom sensation of bile from rising up into his mechanical throat at the very thought. Errol was no one's plaything!
“What did they want? Some sort of science experiment?” Errol asked, “And why are you here? Are they going to hold you over my head? Like a leash?”
Keira looked up, eyes shinier than before and her brow furrowed with worry.
“I hadn't thought of that. Maybe,” Keira said, “I know they called me, because of my skill with machines. Normally I would have refused their offer, but it was for you, so I was willing to try. The really complex stuff, like the programming, was handled by some scientists and engineers, but I was put in charge of overseeing their work and dealing with some of the designs.”
That was where it all broke down. Nothing made sense. He was dead, but he wasn't?
“How? I've never heard of anything like this!” Errol said.
Keira nodded and glanced away.
“They got a hold of someone else's notes, someone who found a way to perfect the process of mental transference! I don't know who, they said he was a genius, but I wasn't involved in that. I helped put together your body, using the parts here. I was going to make it more human, but the people funding the project didn't want to spend time on that. At least they let me order some silicone to try out.”
“Silicone?” Errol asked, “Is that what this is made of?”
He waved the much more humanoid hand in front of her. She chuckled as she reached out, and pressed it flat against her bosom. His pressure sensors must have been phenomenal! He could feel her heartbeat, even now, and the familiarity soothed him.
“Well, it's wrapped over a metal armature, but yeah! That one,” Keira said, “So's your tongue. That actually gave me the most trouble.”
Errol stuck his tongue out, and went cross-eyed trying to look at it, which made her giggle softly. What he could make out seemed normal enough. She let go of his hand, and gently pulled a badly torn, oddly tattooed ear into his peripheral vision. He gave it a cursory glance. From what little he could tell, it looked as if she'd tried to dye bits of it in his original Krimzon Guard pattern, and failed.
“This ear is all silicone!”
Then she poked the end of his nose, and he went cross-eyed again. Naturally, he could only see the tip of it, but it looked about the same as he remembered it.
“So is that,” she said, “I even made your lips out of it. But this was my first time using the stuff. I didn't get enough of it to cover your whole face, and I kind of ripped it when I was using the adhesive. I should have waited until I'd finished your hand, but you know, hindsight. And you have no idea how hard it was to find one artificial eye that looked like the original. I kind of made due with the other.”
Errol winced, and decided that he'd avoid any and all mirrors until he was ready to face what served as his face. Not that he wasn't grateful. The Death Bots had glowing ocular receptors, more like headlights than eyes, and no mouths. She'd put so much effort into something that mattered only to him, doing her best to humanize this decidedly inhuman shell that he was now trapped in.
“But what am I?” Errol asked, “And where is the rest of me?”
He knew it probably wouldn't be an easy question to answer, but Keira was the only one who could, or would, give him a real effort at honesty. Keira's cheerful disposition began to sour as he watched.
“Um, well, you were right,” she said, “You're—You're dead now.”
Errol nodded. He'd already prepared himself to accept that fact, even with how long it had taken her to admit it, but Keira wasn't finished.
“They transferred your mind into this blank system awhile ago,” Keira continued.
She stretched and stood on her tiptoes, to point at his forehead, clearly meaning the Death Bot's computerized brain hidden behind it.
“They wanted to keep you around, until they were sure it worked, but your body!” Keira said, “It... It finally gave up. I don't know when. All I know is that they didn't want your new body turned on until they'd scheduled a meeting, as soon as it was finished. So I overestimated how much time I'd need.”
As dire as things seemed, Errol couldn't resist teasing her.
“I thought I taught you how to follow orders.”
Keira's ears and cheeks took on a decidedly rosy hue, which pleased Errol immensely. He was still the Commander in her bedroom.
“Hey! They weren't your orders,” Keira said, “But, seriously, I didn't know what was going to happen! It sounded like I wasn't invited... That I might never see you again!”
Errol looked around the room. There had to be security around this government, or previously owned by the government, facility.
“What if someone is watching?” Errol asked, “You could be in danger!”
Keira pouted, as if he'd bruised her pride.
“I took care of all the surveillance cameras in here!” she said, “They're looking at a recording of some boring maintenance work from two weeks ago. Besides, you're packing some serious firepower. If anybody tries to force the issue, you'll give 'em a good fight! Won't you?”
Errol smirked and tickled her under the chin. He hadn't considered exactly what might be installed into him, but it made perfect sense. Who would bring him back as anything but a weapon? Not Keira, not on her own, but she was the exception to the rule.
“You don't even have to ask that,” Errol said, “Now go home, and leave everything to me.”
“No, wait! This is the weapons factory!” Keira said.
“I noticed,” Errol said, “And it's no place for a civilian. I'll cover your exit, but I'm staying here for now. As much as it pains me, I want Jak to watch over you for a few days. In case things turn ugly.”
“I, uh, I'm already living with him,” Keira said.
Errol stared at her, eyes opened wide. His eyebrows arched as high as they could go.
“How long was I unconscious?” he asked.
Keira wrung her hands and kept her eyes on the floor.
“It was long enough.”
Errol grumbled, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He placed one hand on his hip and frowned, feeling more like his old self, thanks to his reinvigorated hatred for Jak.
“Where do you live now? If I survive this, I want to see you,” Errol said, “I want to make sure these people don't send someone to take care of loose ends.”
Keira rubbed at her eyes.
“I'll be fine,” Keira said, “We're living over the Naughty Ottsel. It's where Hip Hog Heaven used to be. Come by the back entrance though. I don't know how anyone else will react!”

It was almost a week later when Errol turned up, like a stray crocadog, in the tiny back alley she had directed him to. He'd waited near the dumpster and was lucky enough to find Keira taking out some garbage, not long after. The sight of him made her drop the bag and run over with a gasp.
“Errol! Oh, look at you! You're limping and... is that blood? Where have you been? What's that smell?”
He stood perfectly still, experiencing no pain as she began prodding at him with unsteady hands, though one of his legs was about to fall off at the knee or the ankle. He was indeed streaked with the blood of his enemies, as well as weak traces of Dark Eco, and quite literally shit. Ironically, he'd never felt better!
“The sewers are less conspicuous. Unfortunately, there are more Metal Heads down there than I thought. I was using the rockets, but then I started getting... lethargic? Less thrust.”
He intentionally left out the part where he had turned the KG war factory into a blood bath. Especially after his “patrons” had arrived. They had used Keira to get to him and potentially threatened her life in the process. They had also kidnapped him, which chafed at his pride more than anything else. He had refused their plan to take over the city, with him guiding their army of Death Bots. Violently refused. Luckily, he had started a fire fight inside a weapons factory, so he still had plenty of ammunition.
Keira simply nodded, disposing of the garbage as she listened. He was grateful for her sheer aplomb.
“You need more fuel and some repairs,” Keira said, “Come on in! I've got everything we'll need. I always squirrel away a little container of eco, in case I need to power up something in a pinch.”
Errol hobbled after her quick retreat through the open doorway. He didn't expect her to offer him assistance, after learning what was on him, but she came back shortly after and gave him a thumbs up. Within minutes, she was wrinkling her nose and assessing him critically, before determinedly trying to drape his normal-looking arm over her shoulders. Most of the sewage was on his legs, so she was at less risk there. She also really couldn't offer much support for his now massive, metal frame but he thought it was sweet of her to try.
The back room was small, even before taking into account the boxes and extra bottles crowding it. Keira guided him towards the widest wall and flipped what looked like a light switch. The bulb remained off but a door slid open, showing off a well-lit room that was much bigger. There were larger stacks of boxes and more random junk, but his attention was drawn to the prominent work station and vehicles inside. One was a fast, slate blue, single-seat zoomer. The other was a golden three-seat cruiser. The other doorway nearby, large enough for the cruiser, was probably hidden from the outside, if he was standing where he thought he was.
“So this is where Krew kept his smuggling operation,” Errol said, “I knew the bar had to be a front, but I thought it was just for the money-laundering.”
Keira stared up at him, before she stopped and wiggled out from under his arm.
“You knew about it?” she asked, “Why didn't you raid the place?”
“It was only a hunch, although that never stopped us before,” Errol said, “We never came down on him because there were always bigger fish to fry and Krew had his uses.”
Keira snorted with disdain, but busied herself arranging some tools. Then she ran off and came back with a soapy bucket. It wasn't a dignified way to get clean, but it had its perks. The sight of Keira scrubbing down his legs and pelvis easily lead to thoughts of her shirt soaking wet, while she rubbed her breasts against him in sensual strokes. Mmmm, if only he had a use for such a delicious image. After a careful rinse with the hose, she instructed him to lie down on his uninjured side.
“I'm going to have to power you down for this,” Keira said, “You're running low, so I should fill you up while you're out cold.”
“No!” Errol said, “I don't like the sound of that.”
Errol lurched as he took a step back, faltering on the unsteady leg. He might not feel pain anymore, but he did feel weakness and fear. Keira crossed her arms obstinately and her eyes narrowed, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. It did nothing to soothe him.
“Don't be such a baby!” she said.
Errol shook his head, now angered by her assault on his pride, and backed away further. If he knew where the switch was, he would have covered it up with one of his hands.
Keira sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed the heel of her palm against her forehead.
“Look, I don't want to get electrocuted,” Keira said, “That's the only reason!”
Errol looked down at his poor abused leg.
“It isn't sparking right now.”
“I'll turn you back on, I promise!” Keira said, “Now get over here and lie down. What happened to the Commander who wasn't afraid of anything?”
Errol wasn't going to fall for that.
“He's dead,” Errol answered, “And I don't plan on joining him.”
Keira looked askance.
“Errol! Don't say that. You're alive. You're here.”
“I'm a duplicate of a man,” he said, “And the only one remaining!”
Keira stared at him, as if he'd grown a second head, and lifted her hands up in despair.
“What?! What are you talking about?” she asked.
The strands of cable holding his trailing leg finally broke and he found himself hopping in place to stay upright. She covered her mouth and stifled a chuckle, as she pointed at his limb on the floor.
“Okay, now I've really got to reattach it,” Keira said, “Before you make things worse.”
“No!”
He hopped away from her as she lunged, trying to shove him over. In doing so, he ended up losing his balance and falling anyway. Keira stood over him and laughed, covering her mouth again to muffle the sound. Errol grumbled, and began crawling backwards while keeping an eye on her, but his belly felt exposed, vulnerable, and it was awkward moving that way. He quickly rolled over, and began to crawl faster, with his back turned to her instead.
“I don't know what's gotten into you,” Keira said, “But I'm going to turn you off, and put you back together, whether you like it or not! You need my help.”
Keira easily kept pace with him. He ignored her, and began moving in a different direction as fast as possible. Then she stepped over him, and he thought he saw her sliding her arms under his chest. There was a twisting, sliding pop. Errol paused, trying to look and see what she was doing, before everything went black.
When he came to, he was lying on his back and staring up at a ceiling once more. Damn! He didn't even question how she'd done that, in spite of how incredibly heavy he must be now; he just hoped this wasn't going to become a habit. While lifting himself up, he looked down to find Keira straddling his hips. She had her head on his torso and her hands on his chest, eyes tilted up and her chin tilted down. Her tone was triumphant, with a hint of sensuality.
“All better? And it didn't hurt a bit!” Keira said, “I even gave you a quick wash.”
He lifted both of his knees, and from what he could gather, pressed both feet firmly against the floor. They made the usual slight scraping, grinding metal noise as the joints shifted, but both seemed to be intact. Errol closed his eyes, and bared what he hoped resembled teeth, as he grimaced.
“Awww, don't be that way. I did it for you,” Keira said, “Why are you so angry?”
Errol knew she was right, and for the very first time since he'd woken up in his new body, he felt tired. He didn't have the energy to argue, even though he could feel his engine thrumming with fresh eco and more vigor than before. She'd kept her word.
“Hey, umm, since you're going to need someone to look after you,” Keira said, “I mean, when you get into trouble like this, would you like to stay here?”
“As if no one would ever notice,” Errol said, “Why don't you paint some racing stripes on me? Then I'll blend in with the zoomers.”
Errol opened his eyes, to find her playfully sticking out her tongue at his sarcasm.
“Yeah! Maybe bright yellow? That would totally camouflage you!” Keira said, “Um, anyway, Jak won't be happy when he finds out about this, so we need for him to not find out. As long as you're in my garage, and you keep out of sight, it should be fine.”
Errol sat upright, curling one arm around her waist possessively. He'd forgotten about Jak! They clung to each other, Keira ending up in his lap, and she blushed, even though this position was no more risque than lying prone atop his supine form. Keira caressed his silicone cheek, and then hastily pulled herself to one side, untangling their limbs in a manner that left Errol feeling disappointed. He should have known better. Jak was still there, in between them. Speaking of which...
“Does Jak own the bar now?”
“Hah hah, no! It's Daxter's!” Keira said, “The paperwork says Jak owns it, but Daxter is the one running things. For once.”
“Odd,” Errol said, “I thought Krew would have left it to... someone.”
Keira didn't even notice the way he had trailed off and didn't ask for further details. Instead, she began pushing herself up onto her feet. She gestured for him to join her, but he saw no reason to bother. Keira shrugged and went about cleaning up the area around them, including some smears of grease, oil, and bits of dark eco soot, which were toxic but not deadly in such a tiny amount, especially if cleaned up properly. It must have come from tampering around with his insides. The sight of her mopping it up made him sick when the sight of the sewage had, oddly enough, done nothing. Probably because he couldn't actually smell anything now. She began to talk, and he tried to focus on listening, hoping the nausea would leave him.
“... I think the boys must have convinced Ashelin to pull some strings,” Keira said, “But if Krew put it in a will, I don't think anybody showed up to stake their claim. Daxter wouldn't have shut up about it, if they did! Are you okay?”
“I'm queasy, that's all,” Errol said, “It's nothing.”
Keira blinked sage green eyes curiously.
“Really? But you don't have a stomach!” Keira said, “Huh... I guess it's the memory of queasiness?”
Errol shrugged. That made sense, but he couldn't imagine why he would remember it now.
“What do I have?” Errol asked.
“Oh, wow, is that a loaded question!” Keira said, “Unless you're serious about it, I'm not even going to answer that. I could be at it for an hour, especially if you don't know the basics.”
Errol didn't care to press the issue. He finally stood, and his leg was as good as new. Walking a few steps proved that he could leave if he wanted to. And there was the sticking point. The more he thought about her offer of staying, the more he realized that he had no where to go and nothing to do. No responsibilities might have sounded tempting, but not when there was so much emptiness to go with it.
He wasn't a commander anymore, that much was certain. How could he be, when he was officially dead? Then there was that little detail about being a robot. He had refused to have a master, in no uncertain terms, but he was a robot all the same. So he idly watched Keira straightening her work station, putting up the hose, and carrying off the bucket. Then she came back in, and moved the boxes in one corner, forming a hidden alcove.
“Here we go! In case someone comes in, unannounced. I wish I could give you a real room, but we're all booked up. You are going to stay, right?” Keira asked.
Errol wandered over to inspect the ramshackle partition and nestled inside. He found that he could press most of his enormous feet flat against the floor, to significantly decrease his height (that bit sticking out much further behind him was apparently his ankle and the first joint, attached to his thigh, was definitely his knee.) In this way, he could crouch down enough that he wasn't immediately visible. If he curled up on his side and tucked his legs in as much as possible, he could even succeed at lying down on the floor in an almost bestial, somewhat fetal position. It felt natural, but his former human sensibilities were screaming at him to get up off the concrete. Keira rubbed her chin and gave him a sideways glance, as he looked up at her with his eyes half-closed, not unlike a contented hellcat.
“Wow. That is... creepy. Don't do that,” Keira said.
Errol laughed, his entire body shaking comfortably with the effort, and she gave him an even more uncertain look. Then he climbed to his feet and loomed over her, but she didn't flinch, in spite of her earlier unease. She stood her ground, craning her neck to gaze up into his golden eyes, as she lightly placed one hand onto his chest plate. That simple action of trust decided him.
“The floor, the dump, the slums, or the palace; they're all the same to me now!” Errol said, “But if I'm going to stay, I'd better get more attention than anything else you're working on. I'm a very jealous hunk of metal; I won't share you with all the twisted wreckage and bits of scrap in the world, if I'm not your favorite!”
Keira smiled sadly and nodded.
“Yeah! Don't worry,” she said, “I'll treat you better than an NYFE racing zoomer.”

“I'm hearing voices again.”
It took all of Errol's willpower to mention it. It made him sound weak, as if he couldn't control himself, but he needed to tell someone. Keira looked up from her magazine, tilting her head to one side, and arching an eyebrow as she hummed softly.
“Just now? What do they sound like?” she asked, “Is there static or is it clear as a bell?”
Erol gingerly clamored over her latest chunk of subdued metal and welding gear, before stomping to her side. She remained casually crouched over her work station, sitting on an old stool that she'd “borrowed” from the bar. Even with the thick concrete that the warehouse was made of, she'd long since given up on her current project, for fear it might wake up her father or her friends as the night wore on.
“Faint,” Errol answered, “With the usual communications crackling, but intelligible.”
Keira tapped her finger onto the open page, and hummed again, as she looked the room over.
“You might be picking up on transmissions from around the Port,” Keira said, “Plenty of businesses and people out here. There's got to be someone else who's still awake.”
Errol shook his head.
“No,” Errol said, “I can tell when I'm eavesdropping.”
Keira straightened her posture and clasped her hands in her lap, serious but nervous.
“Well, what have they been saying?” Keira asked, “Do they know where you are?”
Errol paced around her and away, looking down at the visible cracks in the concrete floor discerningly. It felt like the current signals were rising upward, from beneath the city. Possibly the sewers or the underport, then.
“The first thing they ask is if I'm an ally or what my commands are. Every time,” Errol said, “When I tell them to go away, they get the point.”
“What? That doesn't sound good!” she said, “What if they come after you?”
Keira hopped off the stool and hurried over, causing him to pause when she clung to his more normal-looking hand. Errol was touched by her obvious concern, but chuckled at her anxiety. He held up his massive left hand, showing off the gun built into the palm. It briefly glowed red, with destructive eco, burning as bright as his longing for some action.
“I'll greet them with open arms and live ammunition! But I don't think they're looking for a fight,” Errol said, “It's strange; I thought only humans were curious.”
Keira gulped and edged away from the weapon, while still maintaining her grip on the other more human-looking hand.
“But who are they?” Keira asked, “Is it Metal heads?”
“Some of them are,” he admitted.
Keira frowned. She didn't like the first idea, but she also wasn't sure what he was insinuating.
“What else is there?” she asked, “Wait, you don't mean?! Is that possible? Are their minds that complex? How many KG Death Bots are still out there?”
“We needed every weapon we could get during the war,” Errol answered, “But many of them went unfinished. Don't worry; I took care of the factory on my way out.”
Errol pulled away from her, and reached for the lever on the wall. The secret garage door opened onto a small, empty street, rather than the already unobtrusive dead-end alley behind the bar. He should have expected that, considering it was originally meant for secluded, unsavory black market visits of the loading and unloading kind, that needed to be done in secret, but also with a great deal of speed.
The shadows were dark with night, and the street lamps seemed far away, as Errol observed them with infrared scrutiny. He wanted to be sure that nothing and no one was waiting for his arrival. As much as he wanted to see these robots and monsters in person, he didn't want to give away his love's location or lead them to what essentially served as his home... or lair, really. Wasn't he just a monster himself now? Whatever Errol was, Keira had kept him company, because she couldn't sleep, and he had secretly savored it, like he'd been given a gift, but now it was time to go and receive another.
Keira followed him, helplessness etched into her innocent expression.
“Wait! Don't go,” Keira said.
Errol shook his head, determined and smiling
“I've been rude for far too long,” Errol said, “I should go see these friends, who've been asking me to come out and play. Have some faith! I'll return.”
Keira remained nervous and lifted her hand, before letting it drop to her side again.
“You aren't going to kill them, are you?” Keira asked, “We should ask them questions! Er, well, you should, maybe.”
“I promise nothing, but don't fret! I'll return in one piece before sunrise,” Errol said, “I'll tell them you said hello. Maybe even bring back a souvenir!”
He leaned over, so Keira could give him a parting kiss, but she was despondent as she stood there, with her back to the well-lit garage, so that all the shadows collected on her face like a mask. When she didn't respond, he began shooing her away.
“Go and get some sleep,” Errol said, “I'll know if you haven't. Don't disappoint me!”
Then he stepped out onto the ramshackle street. Keira smiled weakly before she reached over, out of sight, and Errol watched as the door slowly descended, severing the open space between them.
- 1
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