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Title: Gilmot-5

There was never any doubt in Bibi’s mind. It was the right thing to do. And the opportunity would almost certainly never arise again. She turned and smiled, looking up at Gilmot-5. “Let’s do it!”

A door in the cyborg’s huge chest plate folded open. A thin ladder extended down to the ground.

Bibi climbed the ladder, careful not to snag her dressing gown. She crawled into the cyborg’s chest. With a crunch, the chest door folded closed behind her. She turned and sat down, and then pulled the restraint down over her head. She giggled. “Ready!”

Gilmot-5 started to shudder. A deep rumble rose quickly to a roaring crescendo.

Bibi laughed, intoxicated with excitement. “Yes! Oh yes!”

Then complete silence.

Bibi was confused. “What’s happening?”

Her restraint lifted, and then the door folded open.

“Dammit!” she cried, slamming her fist down hard on the floor. “Take me to the Moon! Now!”

Gilmot-5 remained silent.

With an angry grunt, Bibi crawled out of the cyborg and clambered uneasily down the ladder. She stepped onto the ground and looked up at Gilmot-5. “Bastard!” She said, slapping the cyborg’s bulky titanium legs. “Selfish bastard!”

Gilmot-5’s leg nudged forwards. Bibi was knocked off balance. She fell onto her back. The cyborg lifted its leg, and then brought its wide flat foot hard down on the girl’s torso, flattening her chest right to the floor. Bibi groaned loudly as a fast burst of air was forced out of her mouth. A flood of blood followed, gushing over her lips and out of her nostrils. Her head shuddered for a brief moment as her brain haemorrhaged, and then she was still.

Gilmot-5 spoke, its voice high and effeminate. “Annoying little bitch!”

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© Copyright Peter Fothergill 1992 - 2017

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