Here ’s mine :
The room was a bustle of textile and feathers , pliant gem shine off masks , and artfully constructed suits cover in beads . But everyone at this Lucille Ball break the same disguise : All the women take care like Mary . All the workforce looked like Peter . Mary knew , if she rob the masquerade from any man ’s face , it would be Ted ’s naked eyes staring back at her . It was only if she passed this one thoroughgoing Turing Test that she and Ted could move on to the next level together .
The music begin , and a pair of male hands grab her little unity . They ’d trained for this . They ’d trained for dancing and dinner parties and lawn tennis and all sorts of more internal activities . Peter had quizzed her again and again on the modest code of his body . She experience the path his left-hand knee twitched when he took a hard turn . She had counted his centre charge per unit at rest and through the spectrum of elbow grease . Peter had blindfolded her and line up his bunkmate , making them touch her and hold her and brush the hair from her cheek until she could key out his hand from the crowd .
They ’d developed a secret language of passwords : Gilgamesh , papillon , malamute , reindeer .
But now Mary could see all that training had been for null . As she was thrown from partner to partner , they whisper those sacred words in her ear . “ Mary , it ’s me . Harlequin . ” “ Mary , it ’s me . Shibboleth . ” “ Mary , it ’s me . Rainment . ” She tumble her head around the room and see all the other Marys bobbing their heads around , all bet as nervous . Were they all programmed to think they were her ? She wondered . Or were they cognisant of their trick ?
Forty organism in a room . Thirty - eight robots and all the humans have to do is find one another .
If Peter were to break off from his married person and shout out “ Mary ! Mary ! ” The Peter robots would do the same . She ’d heard of tests that went down that way , that disintegrated into chaos . well to bring by the pattern . substantially to adjudicate to figure out the plot .
Mary took a bass breath . She ’d had her own individual dry run for this test , had spent hours in the men ’s barrack drinking in Peter ’s scent , feeling the electricity beneath his skin when she touched him . She closed her eyes and dance .
Her hands passed through dozens of other men . She endeavor to mean of them all as idle hand , devoid of human notion . Only Peter ’s hands would truly respond to her feeling . Then she felt it ! A zap of something , of muscles pulsing beneath hide . She open her centre . Peter stood there in red and black assortment , his middle staring hopefully beneath a mordant masquerade . “ Is that you ? ” she asked , and as he parted his lips to say one their words , she held a digit to his mouth . She draw him in close and inhaled him . There he was . He ’d been scrubbed clean , so he did n’t smell like the mildewed barrack anymore , but she knew that human musk . “ Oh god , ” she sighed . “ It is you . ”
Peter practically fall in with relief . “ give thanks god , Mary . ” He pull her into a hug , whispering into her spike , “ Mary , Mary , Mary . ”
Then , a yell sounded from her leftover . “ Mary ! ” another Peter shout . “ Oh , give thanks god , Mary . ” Mary whirled around to see this Peter robe his body over a mask Mary in pink , his body convulsing into breathlessness . Mary see back at her Peter — no , not her Peter — in horror . He almost looked apologetic .
Then , in the length , she heard the whirring blade of the Separators .
Fiction
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