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The Emotions of the Non-Living
The Emotions of the Non-Living
The Emotions of the Non-Living
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The Emotions of the Non-Living

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Can an android help us understand what makes us human? Lilith’s traumatic encounter with a mutant stowaway will scar her forever. Or is it a blessing in disguise?
An 'Aboard the Universe' story

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 8, 2014
ISBN9781311072528
The Emotions of the Non-Living
Author

Linda Jordan

Linda Jordan writes fascinating characters, visionary worlds, and imaginative fiction. She creates both long and short fiction, serious and silly. She believes in the power of healing and transformation, and many of her stories follow those themes.In a previous lifetime, Linda coordinated the Clarion West Writers’ Workshop as well as the Reading Series. She spent four years as Chair of the Board of Directors during Clarion West’s formative period. She’s also worked as a travel agent, a baker, and a pond plant/fish sales person, you know, the sort of things one does as a writer.Currently, she’s the Programming Director for the Writers Cooperative of the Pacific Northwest.Linda now lives in the rainy wilds of Washington state with her husband, daughter, four cats, a cluster of Koi and an infinite number of slugs and snails.

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    Book preview

    The Emotions of the Non-Living - Linda Jordan

    The Emotions of the Non-Living

    by

    Linda Jordan

    Contents

    The Emotions of the Non-Living

    About the Author

    The Emotions of the Non-Living

    Lilith had just cleaned cabin 436A and was wheeling her cleaning cart out into the corridor to the next cabin when the man pushed her back into the cabin and slammed the door. She didn’t recognize him.

    Excuse me sir, but I must continue my duties.

    Shut up bitch. He punched her in the head and shook his hand in pain.

    Of course it didn’t hurt her. She was an android and her head was covered by a shell which protected the delicate mechanisms inside.

    He ripped off her clothing. The passengers liked androids to wear clothing. It made them more comfortable. He kept tearing until she was naked.

    You don’t even have any holes down there, he yelled.

    Sir, perhaps I can get someone to assist you. Should I call someone?

    Kneel, he yelled.

    She couldn’t refuse a direct order. Even from a stranger.

    She knelt.

    He pulled his cock out of his pants and demanded, Suck on it, as he shoved it into her mouth.

    Her makers had wanted to make her series lifelike, so they put the speakers in her throat. She couldn’t talk to him with her mouth full. She tried to suck on him, but she didn’t have the fine motor skills or muscles to provide suction.

    It didn’t seem to matter.

    In just a few minutes of him twisting her ponytail in his hand and shoving himself in her mouth, pulling out and shoving in again, her sensors told her that hot liquid was pooling around her tongue.

    He pulled out and sat down on the bed. She picked up her torn blouse and used it to wipe out her mouth, trying to understand what had happened. She only had a vague understanding of human psychology.

    The man rose and picked up a statue of the virgin Mary from a table. He came over to her and raised it above his head, then hit her again and again and again.

    She tried to call out, but the liquid had damaged her speakers. The door opened and he was gone. She followed him, shaking from the damage. And something else. She felt afraid. How could she feel?

    She gathered up her shredded clothes and ran, took an elevator and ran farther and farther, away into the belly

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