Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War Read Online Free Page A

down to the blond locks and elfin face. She'd cost an arm and a leg, but she'd been worth it he thought, stroking her hair. Paddling her ass with his hand and a wooden spoon like he had his nieces hadn't been pleasurable as he'd remembered, but this made up for it he mused in nirvana. She could suck a grapefruit through a straw. Must be some sort of vacuum action he thought distantly as waves of pleasure rolled through his body. And she was programmed to make it last and last, even better.
    All those thoughts were cut off when the gynoid stiffened and stopped. He felt the pleasure begin to cease and cracked an eyelid, looking down at her. “You better not be out of power, you bitch.”
    He suddenly felt her teeth bite down. A playful nip this wasn't he realized as his hands reached to grab her wig frantically. “Stop! What the hell are you doing?!?” But he was too late, the artificial mouth and porcelain coated plastic dentures tore through his penis with agonizing results. Blood splattered all over his crotch and the gynoid's face. She looked up as her user screamed in agony, doubling over with his hands going to what was left of his privates.
    She wiped blood from her eyes and bangs with one hand as she turned her head to spit the remains of the man's penis out. Then as he began to pass out from the pain she reached up with both of her small hands and grabbed his throat. Her thumbs found his carotid arteries and began to squeeze with crushing force.
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    Nick Masall finished the thresher combine's power up. He hated factory updates, but he'd learned a long time ago not to pass on them. The last time he had, it had voided the blasted warranty. Since his combine cost a cool half mill in credits, he wasn't about to screw around with that.
    He shook his head as he went to the next. His brother had shut the damn things off to conserve power. Why he didn't know; they had solar panels on the top of the cab and back deck. They weren't enough of course, but … he shrugged. Not that it mattered he thought absently as he noted some crap in the teeth.
    A part of his job was making sure the combines were 100 percent at all times. Since they had a big job coming up in a week, the teeth had to be in good shape. A rock or piece of wire could snap a couple of the triangular teeth harming production. The damn things were a pain in the ass to change out in the field too, and every minute down cost them money.
    As he pulled the rock out, the machine came online. He looked up, but there was no one in the cab. He frowned. It must be a part of the update he thought, running the machine through post. “Come outa there you …,” he swore softly, tugging on the stone. One last tug got it out, but overbalanced him when it released to knock him on his ass. He swore again, then flipped the stone aside. He stared at the machine as the cameras came on and the thresher head bobbed.
    “What's gotten into you, number five?” he demanded. As he started to get up, the machine's blades came on. It moved forward, and the fingers used to direct the crop towards the cutting blades tripped him up. He fell face first into the combine's thresher. Beater bars slammed onto his back, pushing him forward as the head tipped up off the ground, lifting him up so he went face first into the machine.
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    August 3, 2200, 4:42 PM, East Coast Time
    All across the planet, robots came to life on their own as they received new commands. Robotic lawnmowers went after people. Robots built with biomimicry in mind turned on their masters.
    An assembly robot, really an elephant trunk made out of plastic tube, air compressor muscles with a fish fin gripper turned on its human coworkers.
    “What the hell's gotten into them?” Jim the factory floor manager asked just before a tentacle wrapped around his waist and ripped him off of his feet and over to a plasma torch. A single cut and scream and his body parts were dropped with a growing pile of