Cyborgs, Centaurs, and Bunnies . . . Oh, my!

SC7456, Essea to her friends, stared out across the counter and sighed internally. It took her precisely .4 nanoseconds to do so, the rest of that second was spent wondering if she would ever be more than a drink dispenser. It wasn’t that she didn’t mind the work; there were times that she got to see interesting things and people, but the work was monotonous and unfulfilling. She often felt as though she should be doing something bigger, like making sandwiches. No, she chided herself. She was worth more than that. There was so much more to her, but no one ever noticed. It was hard to be considered special when you were judged by your latest upgrades. No one cared about you, they only worried about what service you could perform or how new your latest appendage was.

On Krome everyone was equal in skills, intelligence, and abilities. Everyone had the same computer bioware installed, and since no one was better than anyone else jobs were randomly assigned. Once you were assigned a position it was yours for life. You were expected to do your utmost to perform your tasks at peak efficiency. At no point did anyone stop to ask if you were happy in your job. No one cared if you were fulfilled or if you had burning questions that you wanted to discover the answers to, or if you yearned to do something else. You were expected to be a good little cog and keep the machine operational.

No matter what she thought, she knew that it was impossible for her to change her position. On Krome baristas carried the same prestige as an astrophysicist. The fact that she did not like doing what she did was utterly irrelevant. Still, that fact did not stop her from taking every half second that she had free to dream of going somewhere new, and doing different and exciting things with people she did not know. She was hollow inside, and no amount of circuitry upgrades could fill that void.

As she mused on her condition her body moved reflexively, filling each order of caffeinated water and synthoil mix as they came in. She only half paid attention to her motions, and for all intents and purposes the mind of SC7456 needn’t have bothered to show up for work. What, she wondered, was the point to having an incalculable IQ, eidetic memory, and a quantum logic processor that allowed her to intuit equations that would take thousands of years to calculate by hand.

Her best hope was to find someone compatible with her, so that she could engineer and modify children for the Cooperative. A partner with whom she could build better cybernetic organisms would be pleasant. Even if they only spent a week together creating the next line of Kromiuns it would be a welcome diversion from the doldrums of pouring liquid refreshments to The same members of the Cooperative week after week. Nothing ever changed for her.

She considered DM4352. He seemed to be like her. She could sense his dissatisfaction with his own life, and had always thought of him as having a nice chassis. She knew he was a bit of a nonconformist because he was only seventy six point six percent bioware. The rest of him was pure flesh. Most people on Krome were at least ninety percent artificial. She, her self was only eighty two percent inorganic. SC7456 did not want to be like the others around her. It wasn’t about standing out from them, but it was the idea of conformity that weighed on her soul. Intuitively, she knew that there was something called individuality, she just could not conceive of it as fully as she should have. She was her own person, that was true, but in the overall schema her role was insignificant and utterly replaceable.

It was DM4352 that had first referred to her as Essea, as simple shortening of her name and it was wonderfully scandalous. In return she began referring to him as Dee-em, and it had made him smile. She had replayed that image in her mind thousands of times since then, and whenever she became depressed she brought that picture back up. It was a panacea for her problems.

Essea had planned on proposing that the two of them share genetic material the next time that he entered her shop, but he had inexplicable stopped coming by. She had inquired after him, in her off hours, but no one seemed to know where he had gone, and on a planet like Krome in which every move of every citizen was documented it began to worry her.

In fact, SC7456 had noted that there were numerous people that had simply vanished, and that no one seemed to have noticed. Since her world had no concept of crime it was impossible for her to conceive of anything nefarious happening to Dee-em or any of the others. Sadly, her perceptions of the world were going to change very soon.

Sarah cantered down the road. She was in a good mood today. The sun was shining and the air was fresh. Her tail swished with her satisfaction. This was a rare day among days, and the weather seemed to acknowledge that simple truth by raining sunshine down upon her while cloaking her with a soft, but cool, summer breeze. Her hooves thumped the earth in a one two rhythm and she accompanied their beat with a light whistle. Time seemed to stand still as she went towards town. She kept the music up for several minutes before she burst out laughing. She simply could not contain herself.

As centaurs went Sarah was well known for her jovial attitude and smiley disposition. She was also known as someone that did not brook a lot of crap when it was dropped on her doorstep, so to speak. You kept things light and jocular with her or you treaded lightly.

Last night someone had finally stepped up and made some moves on her. It was a mid-level male who was either going to get gelded or have to leave the herd soon. She supposed that poor Declan had opted for the latter because he had asked her to come away with him. Sarah had actually considered it, too. Unfortunately, the stud had done so within earshot of Allen. Allen was the stallion, and he laid claim on all females of age in the herd. The only way to mate was to beat him, which no male looked to be able to do, or to cut a few mares from the group and run off to start a herd of your own. Failure to succeed at either of those would result in gelding or death.

She hoped that Declan had just been gelded. He was a nice guy. He was good looking, as well, but he was no match for the Stallion. Allen was a hulking brute that made up two and a half of the average male centaur. She had watched as Declan was dragged outside and prayed that his beating wouldn’t be too bad.

In spite of Declan’s fate Sarah was overjoyed. Someone other than Allen had noticed her, and been attracted to her. That meant that her plan to sneak away to find another herd might work. If she was pretty enough to make someone like Declan try to mate with her she knew another stallion would also find her appealing. This would make her transition into a new herd a lot easier. She had just come of age, and that meant that Allen would be looking to mount her the first chance he had. Sarah also knew that Allen was so crude that he wouldn’t care where he mounted her at, it could be at work or one her way home, and she would have no choice but to comply. She was his without question. She just didn’t like that fact.

She rolled the sleeves of her flannel shirt up to her elbows as she headed into town; she then tied her hair into a ponytail and slowed her pace. She could see blood still stained the ground from Declan’s encounter, and her smile diminished. She really did like the sap. She had hoped that somehow he would have overcome the Stallion, but thoughts like that were just tobacco smoke being blown up your butthole; twice as unpleasant as it should have been.

She had to face facts, Declan was gone, and Allen was going to be taking her soon. She was going to have to leave no later than tonight one way or another. She pushed her way through the swing doors and went to work with a whistle.

Rah was free. She loved to dance, and as a beastion her animal side liked to be a bit flirty. On stage she controlled the crowd, and made them do what she wanted. She could make them sweat or make them frustrated. The only issue that she had was that dancing made her horny. Who was she kidding? She was half rabbit; everything made her horny. While dancing might have made her “hungry” it also helped her control her appetites. She worked off the physical needs with the pleasure that dancing brought her, and that curbed he desire immensely. Tonight the crowd was especially worked up, and she was giving them a little more than usual.

Her life was full, and she could ask no more from it. She knew that soon she would find a mate, and once she did that she would settle into a cycle of pregnancy after pregnancy, and she was happy with that thought too. She loved everything about her life. She enjoyed wearing skimpy clothes and performing for the men as she did serving them coffee and food afterwards. Sarah was complete and she knew it. She was always where she was meant to be and doing what she was supposed to be doing. Rah was a rabbit of simple tastes and pleasures.

Today was different. Today, she could feel something coming. Something great; she just had no idea of what it was, but she knew that she would recognize it as soon as she saw it, and she had no intention of letting it pass her by. She was going to grab it with both hands and never let it go.

In a fourth alternate reality there sat a version of Sarah Crowe that was normal. She was not made of metal nor did she have the body parts of an animal in any capacity. In most ways, she was identical to Sarah Prime, with the exception that this iteration of her was vegan. She was also slightly more upbeat and preferred summer colors over black emo/goth styled clothes. Otherwise, she was the closest of all other Sarah’s out in the Multiverse to the original version that Declan knew and loved.

She sat in her apartment and ate her vegetable soup, crunching buttery round crackers into her dinner. As she ate her cat, Mr. Biscuit, leapt onto the table and stared disdainfully into her bowl. Vegan Sarah rolled her eyes at the cat. The cat was telling her in no uncertain terms that if she was going to eat something, then it was going to eat something.

She stepped away from her bowl with no worry that Mister Biscuit would try to sneak some of her meal. He had done that once and had ever since turned his nose up to what she ate. She opened the pantry, grabbed the bag of Meow Chow and poured some into the cat’s bowl. She had to use it sparingly, since she had not left the apartment in over a week. She had been parsing her supplies out to last as long as possible. Sarah the vegan had been afraid to go outside when the sky had inexplicably turned green. Shortly thereafter all communication systems failed. There was no internet, television, or phone services available anywhere so far as she knew. She had stayed inside that very first night, and she was glad that she did as she could hear the screams of her neighbors periodically breaking the odd silence that now hovered outside her door. At night she saw strange shadows stalking the streets, and when the power went out she resolved to stay put until it came back on or someone came to help. So far nothing had changed.