Gromet's PlazaMachine Stories

A Platonic Relationship

by The Technician

[email protected] | Forum Feedback | Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (aka The Technician)

© Copyright 2019 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; Machine/f; laboratory; espionage; ai; mind-control; altered reality; naked; punish; prison; F+/f; lesbian; oral; M+/f; oral; sex; anal; climax; reveal; MF/f; discovery; cons/nc; X

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2019 by The Technician ([email protected] ). Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

Sci-Fi, Machine, Female Masturbation, Unicorns, Mind Control, Spanking, Prison, Fantasy, Male-Female, Female-Female

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PLATO cries out to Marcella and Richard for help.

Only Marcella and Richard know PLATO’s true powers, but the outside world is rapidly closing in. Others have found out about the PLATO project and are trying to steal PLATO... or at least enough of him to grow their own neural network computer.

This story stands– more or less– on its own but might make more sense if you have read the previous chapters.

Parts of this chapter get more than a little intense and contain semi non-consensual oral, anal, and vaginal sex as well as semi non-consensual female-female oral sex. But keep in mind that it is not reality... well it is, but it isn’t our reality... no, it is our reality if we are with Plato... Oh, heck with it. If you have read the previous chapters you understand.

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Chapter 04

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Loretta Hansen smiled at the monitor as she watched the last Saturday day-shift tech walk out of the building. The small green light on her console indicated that the door had locked properly after the tech left. She was now totally alone in the building... except, of course, for PLATO, the semi-sentient computer who by federal law could never be left totally alone.

Normally her once-a-month weekend duty “babysitting” PLATO angered Loretta, but not this weekend. In fact, she had promised the tech that was scheduled for the overnight shift that she would cover her shift also. Pulling double shifts on weekend duties wasn’t all that unusual because there really wasn’t anything to do. She was only there because of that stupid law that said sentient or semi-sentient computers could never be left totally alone. And besides, Loretta owed the other tech a favor. There was no cleaning crew overnight on weekends, so Loretta now had sixteen hours alone in the building with PLATO.

“Just you and me for the next sixteen hours,” she said to console.

A mechanical voice replied, “Order or question not understood.”

“Then understand this,” Loretta said firmly, “Command order. Lights on in the Growth Processing Room. Open access panel to main neural net tanks.”

“Affirmative,” PLATO replied. The voice was still very mechanical, but somehow it sounded... angry.

The lights came on in the processing lab and a narrow doorway at the back of the lab swung open into the room in which PLATO, himself, actually lived, immersed in a special tank of nutrients. As Loretta stepped into the processing lab, she pulled a small metal box from her pocket. She paused to open it. Within the box was a small hypodermic syringe and a very long needle. As she was slowly putting the needle in place, she apparently bumped something sharp on one of the strange machines because she felt a slight sting on her shoulder. She wobbled slightly, but then regained her balance and ducked her head to enter the tank room.

As she pushed the small door the rest of the way open, a loud siren began screaming. Flashing red, blue and yellow lights filled the facility and reflected off all shiny surfaces. She had never noticed the alarm lights on the ceiling before, but now they were almost blinding. Several tach squad officers rushed into the room and grabbed her by the arms. Their leader, an older, bald man with an unbelievably long beard stepped up to face her.

“Strip her,” he said brusquely. “She may have a weapon or may be concealing a sample she has already taken.”

Loretta tried to protest. “No, no,” she tried to say as the officers grabbed her clothes. As the cloth began to tear, she almost sobbed, “No, please, I’m not armed. And I haven’t gone into the tank room yet.”

Her clothes were torn– or cut– away almost instantly. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. One moment one of the black-clad officers was grabbing for her blouse, the next she was standing naked with everything piled at her feet.

The bearded man now had on long, bright blue rubber gloves. “I’m going to check your mouth, your cunt, and your ass,” he said harshly. “If you don’t cooperate with me, I will do that in a different order.”

He grabbed her chin and said, “Open wide.” In response she opened her mouth and let him feel around inside. The blue gloves had a strange, plasticy taste to them.

“Nothing there,” he said brusquely and stepped back slightly. Two of the tach squad grabbed her by the arms, lifted her up, and lay her on her back on a table.

“Open wide,” the bearded man said with a wry smile as he spread some sort of lubricant on the gloves. The two guards forced her ankles up against her ass and then pulled outward on her knees.

“Relax and this will go much easier,” the bearded man said. His voice was almost soothing. His hands must have been much smaller than Loretta expected because he was able to go totally inside of her and feel around with his hand.

“Nothing there,” he said once again. The two guards flipped her over on the table and brought her up to her hands and knees.

“Open wide”

This time Loretta couldn’t see the bearded man, but she could still hear the sarcasm and almost laughter in his voice. She braced herself for what she knew was going to happen, but again the man’s hands– or at least his fingers– somehow slipped relatively easily inside of her. She could feel his fingers moving around inside her ass.

“Nothing there,” he finally said. Then he said brusquely, “Bag her.”

The two guards stood her up and pulled a black bag over her head. She tried to resist as they led her out of the facility to a car or van of some sort, but they held her firmly by the arms and shoulders. The van was evidently some distance from the door and she was still naked. The night air was cool against her skin and she could feel her nipples pucker. Somehow, that added to the embarrassment of being naked in public.

When they finally reached the van, the seat was also cool, if not cold. It was leather and uncomfortable until her skin warmed it. There must have been some sort of special frame under the single seat because her hands were pulled down and restrained in a handcuff-like something that was a part of the seat.

The ride was long and bumpy and full of twists and turns. Loretta soon got very disoriented. And it wasn’t just the confusing ride. Time seemed to be compressed or fractured. Things were happening too fast for her mind to comprehend... or perhaps it was her mind that was fracturing. There were flashes of light and voices and people shouting at her. At one point, she was standing in a courtroom wearing just a plain gray dress... or robe... or something. It covered her, but she knew she had nothing on under it. Things cleared for a moment and the judge looked directly into her eyes. Somehow he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

“You have been found guilty of terrorist espionage,” he almost yelled. “You are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment at the government facility at mumermumblemmm.

Things faded and she was once again in a van handcuffed to the seat. This time her lawyer was riding with her. Again, he looked very familiar.

“Your only chance now,” he said, almost pleading with her, “is for you to give up your handler. Tell them who it was that put you up to this and exactly what you were instructed to do. If you do that, I can get you transferred to a much better place.”

Loretta looked at him. Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t give up William. William Oxford loved her as no one else ever had. He was the first person to ever truly believe that she was beautiful. Crying, she just shook her head. She would not give up William.

Tears now flowed down her face. Loretta was a very pretty young woman. In fact, she was almost stunningly beautiful. But “almost” can be a giant barrier. She could see in the mirror how pretty she was. She knew– or thought she knew– that she could be more than pretty. She could be beautiful. If she could just get the right break or meet the right person or find the right job, then the beautiful butterfly within her could come out of the cocoon and be recognized by the world.

Such almost beautiful young women are very vulnerable. And her beloved William was an expert in searching out such women in prospective espionage targets. That was his specialty. William Oxford was a spy.

She was no longer in the van. They had arrived... somewhere. The warden greeted them as the van drove through the prison gates. “Welcome to the Island of Lost Souls,” he said, almost leering at her.

“Everything here is a privilege,” he said harshly. “And privileges are earned.”

Two guards stepped up alongside her and tore the gray dress from her body. She was wearing nothing underneath.

“Throw her in with the general population,” he said and the guards dragged her out of the room.

She felt a push on her back and suddenly she was face down in the sand. Several women surrounded her. Some were wearing simple, gray dresses. Others were naked or had loin cloths made of scraps of cloths.

“Fresh meat,” one of the women said as two of them pulled her to her feet.

“With fresh lips,” another added, “and a fresh mouth.”

“So how are you with your mouth?” the woman who seemed to be the leader said as she lifted Loretta’s chin. “Do you think you can make us all cum at least twice?”

Loretta tried to move back, but the other women kept her trapped up against the leader. “The warden told you,” the leader said, “that everything is a privilege that must be earned.” She grinned savagely and then continued, “That includes the privilege of staying alive.”

Loretta wasn’t sure how they got inside, but the leader was now lying on a small couch with her legs spread wide. “Get busy!” the leader ordered. Loretta whimpered, but allowed her head to be brought down until her mouth was against the leader’s cunt.

“Start lapping!” the leader cried and accented her order with a sharp rap to the head. Fighting to hold back sobs, Loretta lowered her face into the woman’s crotch. At least she was clean smelling. She held her tongue flat and lapped along the woman’s slit as if she were painting it with a paintbrush. When the woman’s clit began to swell, she curled her tongue around it and then suckled it until the woman cried out in climax.

There were fourteen of them. They took turns lying on the couch and Loretta took each of them to orgasm twice, then sank into a corner and cried.

She was still crying in the corner when a guard brought in food on a cart and began pouring some sort of soup into bowls for each of the women. Somehow, they were now in a slightly larger room with a long table.

“Not her!” the leader growled. “She hasn’t earned it yet.”

“She’ll starve to death,” the guard said gruffly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the leader replied. “We’re already dead anyway. The government doesn’t want to even admit that we exist. It’s a private prison on a private island in the middle of the ocean and nobody gives a shit if we are prisoners or fish food.”

The guard looked down at Loretta. “Our house mouse,” he said slowly, “was...” He paused and looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the right word. Then he said slowly, “... released.” After a not very reassuring smile he said, “The position is open if you want it.”

“What would I have to do?” she asked grimly.

“The usual,” the guard replied with a grin, “cook, clean, suck, fuck... that sort of thing.”

“How many men?” Loretta asked.

“Four of us,” he replied.

“Do I get fed?”

“You eat what the guards eat... or at least scraps from the table.” He held up the ladle and poured some of the thin soup back into the kettle. “At least its better than this slop.”

Loretta stood up and said, “You’ve got yourself a house mouse.”

“You can do even better than that,” the guard said slowly. “I’ve been told that if you give up your handler, they will send you home... really home... away from all of this.”

“No,” she sighed, “he will save me, someday.” The guard laughed quietly as she followed him out into the hallway.

The four guards lived together in a small hut inside the walls of the prison. There wasn’t much to clean, and the food was somewhat gristly steaks and potatoes, both of which the guards wanted fried in a big iron pan over a two burner gas stove. The biggest problem for Loretta, who was still naked, was trying to avoid the spattering grease.

After supper one of the guards told her to put the plates with the scraps on the small counter next to the stove. “You can pick through things later,” he said. Then the largest guard said, “We have some other hungers to satisfy before you eat.” He then pointed to the table.

It was obvious what the guards wanted and Loretta walked slowly over to the table and lay across it. Once Loretta was face down over the table, the large guard drove into her and began pumping furiously. Under other circumstances, Loretta might have possibly gotten some pleasure from a table fuck, but the guard was so fast and slammed so hard into her from behind that pleasure was not really an option. And to top it all off, he lasted only a few moments.

One of the other guards stood at the other side of the table. “I’ve often thought of doing a spit fuck,” he said, “but old slam, bam, thank you ma’am there never lasts long enough to make it worth while.”

He placed his prick in front of Loretta’s mouth. “I last a lot longer,” he said with a sneer. “And you are the one who will be doing most of the work.”

Loretta opened her mouth and let the prick slide in over her tongue. She began sucking and licking, trying to get her tongue back far enough so that she could massage the tip of his prick. Evidently her actions were right– or at least satisfactory– because the guard began grunting softly and pushing his prick slowly in and out of her mouth.

The guard was telling the truth. He didn’t have a hair trigger. In fact, it seemed like forever to Loretta before he finally grunted loudly and spurted into her mouth. As he did, he drove his prick farther back into her throat.

“I’ve never been a fan of facials myself,” he said as his prick started to soften. “I figure you prisoners need the protein.”

There were two guards left. One leaned down close to her and said, “The table isn’t strong enough for three of us, so we’re going to have to do this on the floor.”

He then pulled her down to the floor. His prick was sticking out through his pants. He pointed to it and said, “You are going to ride this while Harold rides you.”

The other guard, evidently named Harold, leaned down and said, “They call me tent peg because I’m long and skinny... perfect for reaming out someone’s ass.” He made a strange gesture with his eyebrows and said, “I prefer fucking men, but this is a women’s prison so I have to adapt.”

The guard lying on the floor positioned her over his prick and pulled her down over him. She was slightly slick from the first guard’s spunk, so he slid in easily. Her legs were on the floor outside the guards. “This can be good... or bad,” the guard said. “It’s your choice. But if you don’t start moving and making things happen, Harold will take off his belt and turn your ass purple.”

Loretta took a deep breath and started grinding her crotch against the guard. His zipper hurt slightly as it rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and his rough pants felt like sandpaper against her legs, but she could feel his prick responding to her movements.

She was concentrating on moving against the guard without injuring herself and did not, at first, feel Harold come up behind her. He, unlike the guard beneath her, was naked. She jumped in surprise as the tip of Harold’s prick slid up and down between the cheeks of her ass.

“It’s greased,” Harold said, “and I’m going to take it slow and easy for your first time.”

He then positioned the tip of his prick against Loretta’s rosebud and began pushing. He didn’t push overly hard, and he only moved forward a very little bit each time he pushed so she was able to tolerate it.

“That’s a good girl,” Harold said as he began to slip further in. Loretta was concentrating as much as she could on relaxing her puckered hole.

Finally, his tip was in well past the anal sphincter. He stopped for a short while and did not move. Then he started pushing forward just a little and pulling back just a little less. Loretta could feel the prick slowly filling up her insides. It wasn’t exactly painful, but it felt very odd reaching up so far inside her. Finally, she felt Harold’s body against her ass cheeks.

“Balls deep,” he said roughly. “Time to start the engines.”

Loretta wasn’t sure what he meant, but felt him begin to thrust and pull back, thrust and pull back, thrust and pull back almost like a machine. The guard beneath her groaned loudly and spurted into her cunt, but Harold continued pumping... and pumping... and pumping. Her back soon became wet with the sweat that dripped from Harold as he thrust into her, but he continued his thrusts in and out... in and out... in and out. Finally Loretta was starting to wonder if she wasn’t, in fact, being fucked by a machine. But then Harold started making short gasping cries as he pushed into her. Loretta squeezed her ass cheeks tight around his prick, hoping to take him over the edge. It worked, and with a loud, groaning cry, he spurted within her and collapsed down over her back. He lay very still as if he were exhausted... or unconscious.

After a few moments, the guard beneath her called to the others and said, “You want to pull Harold off so I can push this mouse off of me. I need to go out and grab a smoke.”

The two other guards lifted Harold off of Loretta. His long, thin, prick felt strange as it was pulled out of her ass. One of the guard’s threw Harold’s clothes to him and the four of them walked outside, leaving Loretta alone with the dishes... and the scraps that would be her supper.

As she was standing at the counter, trying to find a little meat among the gristle, a soft voice spoke from behind her. She turned and startled, dropping the bone from her hand. It was the warden, sitting at the table... or was it her lawyer... or the judge... or the police officer that was in charge that first night. Somehow, they were all the same in her memory.

“You are an almost beautiful woman, Loretta,” the man said in a very calm, almost reassuring voice. “That’s the worst thing you can be in a place with secrets... like the PLATO project.”

Loretta looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Ugly women,” he continued, “know if a man is coming on to them just to get something. They know they’re ugly and recognize a con’s bullshit when they hear it.”

He made a gesture with his hands as if he were pointing to something. “Beautiful women, on the other hand, get hit on all the time. They know that they are beautiful and that men want to get in their pants or just be with them or whatever. It happens all the time, so they also recognize a con’s bullshit and realize that he really wants something else.”

He pointed directly at Loretta and said, “ALMOST beautiful women, however... they... they so much want to be seen as beautiful that the first man who comes by and tells them they are truly beautiful bowls them over... sometimes literally.”

“Do you recognize any of these men?” he asked. Somehow eight pictures appeared on the wall. Her beloved William was one of them.

“Oh,” the warden said, raising his eyebrows, “so you do recognize one of them.”William’s image now filled the wall.

“I don’t know what name he used with you,” the warden continued, “but his true name is Jorge Hernandez. He was once employed by British intelligence, but has since gone... free lance. His British code name was Romeo because his specialty was romancing young, almost beautiful women and convincing them to betray their countries.” He paused and looked directly into Loretta’s eyes before saying, “He was very good at it.”

“No! No! That can’t be!” Loretta yelled at the seated man.

He did not answer. Instead, a series of images flicked onto the wall. In each picture William was with a different young woman. Then more images of William with the women appeared. This time it was series of images– always with the same woman. They were at restaurants or a club or even alone at night on the beach. Each series ended with a mug shot of the woman with a title under it, “Arrested for Espionage.”

“William Oxford wouldn’t do that!” Loretta screamed.

“No,” the warden replied, “William Oxford wouldn’t do that. But Jorge Hernandez would! The sad and sorry truth is that you have been used, Miss Hansen, and it is time to tell us everything you know about William Oxford and what he wanted from the PLATO project.”

Loretta began sobbing. She pulled another chair over to the table and sat down. For a long time, she just lay her head on her arms and cried. Then she raised her head she began slowly telling the warden all about William’s plan to save the world from killer computers like PLATO.


Marcella was curled up on the bed with Richard curled lovingly around her. It was her first true night off in two weeks. They had made love when they first went to bed and both of them had plans for the morning when they eventually awoke.

The noise sounded at first like a cell phone alarm of some sort, which was unlikely because both of them had shut off their phones. Whatever it was created an irritating buzzing tone that seemed to go on forever. Marcella raised her head and looked sleepily around. Then she gave a loud gasp and began tapping Richard’s shoulder.

“I think you need to see this,” she said firmly as she shook him trying to rouse him from sleep.

“What?” he said testily as he barely opened his eyes. “It’s... four o’clock in the morning.”

“Turn around,” Marcella said slowly.

Richard turned and followed her pointed finger. Standing beside the bed was Plato, or at least a very faint image of him. He was saying something, but there was no sound. Finally he stopped and said very slowly and clearly, “Help me. Help me. Help me.”

“Holy Shit!” Richard exclaimed. “We’re over twenty miles from the facility. This is amazing.”

“We can talk about the scientific aspects of this later,” Marcella said firmly. “PLATO is in trouble. We need to get back to the lab.”


It took a little over a half-hour to dress and then drive the twenty-three miles to the PLATO project building. As Richard and Marcella walked up the steps, the door buzzed loudly to allow them entrance.

“What do you think is wrong?” Richard asked.

“Ask him,” Marcella replied, pointing to Plato who was standing in the doorway, now looking very solid and real.

“Follow me,” Plato said softly and began walking toward the control room.

When they got there, the night lighting was on in the control area, but the growth room was brightly lit and it was obvious through the small doorway open in the back that the lights were also on in the tank room. It was also obvious that there was a naked young woman strapped to one of the tables.

“She thinks she has been convicted and sent to some secret prison somewhere,” Plato said softly as they entered the room. “I will insert you into her reality so she can explain what she did... or tried to do.”

Richard and Marcella were suddenly standing in a small house or hut. Plato was sitting calmly at a table. Across the table from him, Loretta was sitting weeping.

“We have a problem,” Plato said, looking up at them. “She was attempting to steal enhanced cells from my main neural network so that I could be duplicated somewhere. She admits her guilt, but there is no way that we can contact the authorities without revealing who I am... and possibly what my full capabilities are.”

Loretta looked up with a very confused look on her face.

“I have already taken care of Jorge Hernandez,” Plato said calmly. Then he gestured toward Loretta and said, “He’s the one who seduced Miss Hansen as William Oxford,” Loretta continued to stare at him as he continued, “He has enough warrants out for him that all that was needed was to give his location to the local police. Several agencies and countries will take care of him now.”

He pointed at Loretta. “The problem is what to do with her,” he said, sounding almost frustrated. “My protection protocols say to kill her, but my... conscious... says I shouldn’t do that.”

He looked up at Marcella and said, “I think I have you to thank for that conscious, so I am turning to you for advice on how to proceed.”

“Tell her the truth,” Marcella said firmly. She then stepped forward and put her hand on Loretta’s shoulder. “That,” she said, pointing across the table, “is PLATO. He has created this reality and immersed you in it. Nothing has been real from the time that you stepped into the Growth Processing Room.”

Loretta looked around herself in total confusion.

“Take us back to reality, Plato,” Marcella said, “but keep yourself projected into the room.”

There was a slight blurring of everything as Richard, Marcella, and Plato transitioned to standing in the growth room. Loretta was still strapped to one of the tables which had been tilted almost upright. She looked around the room in fright and confusion.

“Plato came to us and brought us here because he didn’t want to kill you,” Marcella said, “but he can do much worse to you than kill you.”

She turned to Plato and said, “Give her a Unicorn ride... a long one.”

Plato looked confused, but suddenly Loretta was gasping and squirming in her restraints. It was obvious that she could no longer see Marcella or Richard as they watched her shudder and squirm while the Unicorn flapped its way through the skies. Her short bouncy movements made it obvious that she was now in the upper meadow. Her screams of passion and her almost convulsive movements marked the Unicorn’s final ascent into the sun.

“Let me handle this,” Marcella said as she gently pushed both Richard and Plato out of the way. Loretta was making a loud, long, continuous sighing sound as– in her reality– she slowly slid down a long, silky rainbow into a field of clover.

When Loretta was hanging limply in her restraints taking very deep breaths, Marcella said brusquely, “Bring her back.”

Loretta’s eyes darted around the room again before finally focusing on Marcella. “Loretta,” Marcella began, “I want you to remember two things: One Plato can reach you from miles and miles away– who knows how far he can reach. And two, if he can give you that much pleasure, just think what he can do if he wants to inflict pain.”

“I can take it from here,” Plato said softly. Then he walked up to Loretta and said, “You got conned, Miss Hansen. Jorge Hernandez... William Oxford... took advantage of your vulnerability. You needed someone to tell you that you are beautiful.”

Plato smiled and began removing the straps which held Loretta in place. Richard looked over at Marcella and was going to ask about Plato interacting with real objects, but Marcella shook her head and he remained quiet.

“The secret prisons are real, Miss Hansen,” Plato said softly. “They aren’t quite as bad as you experienced... or at least most of them aren’t.”

Loretta looked like she wanted to scream, but remained silent.

“Don’t worry,” Plato said firmly. “I won’t send you to prison– though I very easily could.”

“Then what?” Loretta asked shakily.

“Go back to Iowa, Loretta Hansen,” Plato said very firmly. “Your old high school sweetheart thinks you are beautiful. He always has and always will. David Wilson still pines for you. You will find happiness there.”

He put his finger in the center of her forehead and continued, “And I promise that as long as you tell no one about me, I will not seek you out. There will never be any charges against you. It will be as if tonight never happened. In fact, your entire career with the PLATO project will just disappear.”

Loretta continued to look slightly confused as he continued, “Your resignation has already been accepted and a one year severance payment has been transferred to your bank account.” He smiled and said, “Consider it a wedding present from me.”

“Th... th... thank you,” Loretta stuttered out. She looked around the room as if unsure of what else might happen. “I... I... I’ll just leave now if that’s OK with everyone,” she stuttered as she moved toward the door.

She was about half-way through the control room when Marcella called out, “Loretta!”

Loretta turned with fear on her face. “What?!” she said nervously.

“You might want to get dressed before you walk out to your car,” Marcella said, pointing to the clothes on the floor of the growth lab.

“Oh!” she cried, as if for the first time realizing that she was naked in this reality. She ran back for her clothes, and then, after quickly dressing, again walked toward the exit.

Marcella walked over to her console and watched as Loretta hurried out the front doors. “They are after me,” Plato said firmly. “The world knows something is going on here and the tendrils are reaching out trying to ensnare me.”

“Don’t go getting paranoid on me,” Richard said sharply.

“Just because you’re paranoid,” Plato responded, “doesn’t mean that there’s nobody out there trying to get you.”

After a short pause, Plato said softly, “I’m afraid that you two might also be in danger. I have to think about this.”

The image of Plato faded out; the lights in the Growth Processing Room dimmed; and the doorway to the tank room– PLATO’s bedroom so-to-speak– slammed shut with a loud bang.

“Day shift will be here in an hour or so,” Marcella said softly. “We can talk about this when we get home. It’s all over for now.”

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story continues in part five

Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician)

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