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Velma Marcie's Short Story: Machines

Decent Essays
Machines. Fully-built robots. Each one, either an android, a gynoid, or zoid, talking, thinking, and unbelievably, reacting, emotionally, to this surprise meeting.

Jason's fear slowly blossomed into a private joy, upon seeing them. "You guys look so awesome," he uttered, reverently.

Marcie, however, was quietly staring more at the diminutive gynoid of the group, and found herself forgetting to breathe.

Like the others with her, this "Velma," didn't resemble some human-like animatronic at one of her father's competing parks, she was a visually mechanized duplicate for Velma. Steely, in her surface details, bejeweled with tiny, blinking function lights on her person, yet given the near-form of a living Velma, complete with a paneled, color-schemed
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"Velma?" Marcie dared to whisper, hoping that her fears weren't justified.

"Vellum," the Velma analog corrected her. "Actually, a Vellum-class Library Operations Model, to be precise."

"I...I'm Marcie," the girl introduced herself, nervously, deciding, for now, to be happy that it wasn't what she feared.

Vellum studied Marcie for another moment, then, she was prompted to say something about her, and about all of these strangers, whose very appearance, quite frankly, shook her analytical belief system to its core.

She pointed a slim metal finger at Marcie, directly, and said, in the most perfect pitch of incredulity her vocabulator could simulate, "You're...humans! You shouldn't be here!" "Don't worry, Tinker toy," Red said, giving her a non-threatening shrug. "We've just got to make some repairs, and then we'll be gone. No problem."

"That's not *buzz* what she means, man," the lanky Shaggy analog explained, punctuating his words with a buzz in his vocabulator. "You're, like *buzz* dodos, man. You're extinct!"
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