I was reading the morning paper and drinking my double mocha from the coffee place around the corner. Anymore it took two shots of espresso to get me going. I glanced though the classified ads, just as an afterthought, and saw an ad someone had taken out about a study on the reversal of aging. My 30th birthday was coming up soon, and I was acutely aware of the passage of time. I found a grey hair the otehr day, and some guy a few weeks ago had told me offhand that my eyes crinkled up really cutely when I laughed. Not wanted to hear. I jotted down the number and picked up the phone to call. I was answered by an overly perky receptionist, who told me she was excited about my call and could fit me in today for a consultation, if I was free. Seeing as how I was off on ‘administrative leave’, which is a nice euphemism for ‘You going to be fired,’ I told her I could come in now if that was ok. She seemed way too excited about the prospect, I started to question the whole thing. But I put those thoughts away, thinking there would be some money or something in it for me. That’s how these scientific experiments work, right? Anyway, she told me to dress comfortably and that there would be a few forms to sign before I could begin the experiment. I told her I would be right over and hung up. I finished my mocha and thew on a pair of jogging pants and an old college sweatshirt. I mean, the receptionist did say comfortable. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door with the address in hand.

It turned out that the building was only a few blocks down from my apartment, so I figured the walk wouldn’t kill me. It was a cool but sunny day, and I was thinking I might call one of my girl friends and see about shopping or something. I was so lost in thought about a new pair of Ferragamos that I almost missed the building entrance. It was pretty non-descript, and could have been mistaken for just about anything. I walked inside and looked on the directory for these people. Institute for Aging Reversal, Suite 1317. Great, I thought, thirteenth floor. I hope the elevators are working. Sure enough, they weren’t. I almost turned back right then at facing the prospect of climbing nine flights of stairs, but that guy’s comment ran back though my head a time or two, taunting me. I really shouldn’t let men affect me that way, but it did nonetheless. So up the stairs I went. The first eight flights were good, since I went running a few miles every other day, but by the time I reache the thirteenth floor I was utterly out of breath. I paused in the stairwell to compose myself and brush my hair out of my eyes and then walked into the hall. It looked like every office building I’d been in. Light grey berber carpet, off-white walls, a few prints of some unknown Impressionist artist, some plastic potted plants, and recessed lighting. Fortunately, the stairwell spit me out in front of 1313, so I didn’t have far to walk. I did pause for a random thought though. Suite 1313 on the 13th floor. I wondered for a moment what happened in there at 13:13 and 13 seconds every day. Good thing there aren’t thirteen months in the year, I chuckled to myself, or they’d really have problems. Leaving the superstition behind, I walked down the hall to 1317 and opened the door. I meet the receptionist, and was still quite perky and whose name was Candice, or Candi for short. How appropriate, I muttered under my breath. She handed me a lucite clipboard with a few forms, just as she promised. It was just basic stuff: name, address, DOB, etc. There was a release form, which I signed without reading to closely. I hated forms and wanted to get them out of the way as quickly as possible. I handed the clipboard back to Candi, who smiled and said Dr. Moreau would be with me shortly as she walked further into the office.

“Hey wait! His name is Dr. Moreau?!”

Unfortunately, she didn’t hear me. I think that her name has gone to her head or something. Anyway, I sat a waited for a few minutes, listening the the muzak being piped into the waiting area and read an old copy of Vogue. The doctor finally came out, wearing a shirt and tie under his starched, white lab coat.

“Hello, Ms. Matthews. I’m Dr. Alexander Moreau.”

“Please, calle me Angelica.” I eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “You’re going to do anythignwith...animals, are you?”

He laughed. “You have no idea how many people ask me that. But, no, the experiment has nothing to do with animals.”

I breathed an audible sigh of relief as the doctor lead me back in a small but well-furnished sitting room. He offered me a chair and sat down across from me.

“Now, Angelica, I need to ask you some personal questions. Please answer them the best you know how.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“Are you currently employed?”

“Well, technically yes, but not for long. I’m on administrative leave.”

He winced slightly. “Sorry about that. Do you have any close family or friends?”

“Not really. My parents were opposed to me moving here. I haven’t talked to them in 3 or 4 years. I have a few close friends. They’re all like me, really. Little family, bad jobs. We all sorta keep each other going, you know?”

“Indeed. Are you sexually active?

“Do you mean have I gotten any lately? No. Just me and Mr. Happy at home. I’m kinda sour on guys right now.”

“Ah hah...um, tell me about your skin care regimen.”

“Well, I use a cleanser and moistureizer every morning and an alpha-hydroxy mask once a week. I eat right, drink lot of water, exercise...everything everyone says to do.”

“Good, good....Angelica, I think you’ll be perfect for our study.”

I started to get excited. “Great! When do I start?”

“Now, actually. If you’ll follow me to the laboratory, I’ll get you prepared.”

We walked back a few more doors and into a large, tiled room. Dominating the center was this science-fiction, human-shaped pod thing. Wires and tubes erupted from the back, leading to unlabeled tanks and banks of computers. The front of the pod was clear, and I could see the inside was padded.

“What is that?”

“That is what I’m testing, my dear. It’s a skin rejunvenator. Right now I can only treat the whole body, but I’m hoping to get some funding from Nissan or Honda or some other big corporation and miniturize it. Every one will want one.”

“So, uh, what do I do?”

“Well, you’ll have to get undressed. I’m afraid the process doesn’t work with clothes. Don’t worry, I’ll be behind you at the computers. You’re modesty is safe.”

“Well, ok.”

Dr. Moreau did as he said was going to and walked over to one of the tanks and opened a release valve, then engrossed himself in a comuter monitor. When I was sure he couldn’t see me, I stripped off my sweatshirt, pants, and tennis shoes, then unhooked the front of my bra and let it fall to the floor, followe dby my panties and socks.

“Whenever you are ready, Angelica, just step into the rejuvenator.”

The clear part of the pod swung upward, allowing me access. I tentatively stepped in and turned around. The padding was comfortable.

“What happened if this doesn’t work, Doc?”

“You will be compensated.”

The pod door closed, shutting out all sound. I was going to ask him how much, but it was too late. The doctor’s voice was piped in through an unseen speaker.

“The process will begin momentarily. Please close your eyes and relax.”

I did as I was told and closed my eyes, though it was hard to relax. I felt the machine begin to hum, and a tingling feeling covered my skin. Something warm and liquid began swirl around my feet and slowly rise up my legs. Everywhere the stuff touched my skin, it was like thousands of happy little shocks. It felt very good. It began to rise faster, covering my knees and thighs, and then it happened. As soon as the level reach my pussy, I exploded in a monstrous orgasm. I wanted to collaspe, or touch myself, or something, but I couldn’t move a muscle. The stuff moved up my tummy and up over my breasts, which triggered another mind-blower. As the stuff reached my neck, I managed to let out a long cry of immense pleasure. I never thought I might drown as the stuff covered my mouth and nose, and soon I was completely covered by the stuff. There was a loud hum, followed by a third orgasm, to awesome and amazing to put into words. At that point my conscious mind could take no more, and I passed out in a fourth wave of excruciating pleasure.

I don’t know how much time had passed before I woke up again, but the liquid stuff was gone when I did. I felt different, heavier. There was a presence in my mind that wasn’t there before. What the hell, I thought. What’s going on? I still couldn’t move, but for different reasons. The presence had control of my motor functions, or whatever. The pod door opened, and my body walked out on its own. Somehow, I sensed that Dr. Moreau has pulled himself away from the computers and was standing near me. 4 meters, mark 300, a voice in my head told me. How the hell did I know that? I wanted answers, now.

“Unit, report.”

“I.am.Unit.AM1454-878, fully.functional. Ready.for.instructions.” It was my voice, but stilited and metallic.

“Excellent. Give me an analysis of the rejuvenator and report.”

I felt my body turn around and my eyes opened for the first time. But, instead of the clear vision I was sued to, the picture was almost imperceptably digitized, like a good digital camera, and random red lines scanned horizontally down my field of vision.

“Analysis.complete. The.machine.is.an.orgasmatronic.hyperwave.generator, which.causes the.bonding.of.the.organo metallic.substrate.to.the.subject,and.allows.for.the.admittance.of.the nanite.transformer.molecules.to.effect.the.reorganization.of.the.subjects.body.into.a.robot.form.”

Suddenly I realized what I had become. I wanted very much to be angry and beat the perverted doctor into a pulp, but somehow I couldn’t do it. I was oddly at peace with my new form.

“Excellent, AM1454-878. Describe yourself.”

“I.am.a.prototype.XB476.type.J.robot. I.am.programmed.for.service, combat, and.human conversion. I.have.full.metamorphological.abilities, and.can.alter.my.appearence.at.will. I.am powered.by.a.solar.cell, though.consupmtion.of.organic.matter.is.possible.through.the.matter converter.”

“Excellent.” The doctor left my field of view and then returned with a floor length mirror. I took a long look at myself. It was incredible. My entire body was covered in chrome, and shined like a newly minted credit. Barely visible seams encircled my wrists, on either sid eo fmy elbows, my shoulders, neck, several at my waist, my knees and my ankles. Two seams went around where my legs were attached to the rest of my body, forming a vee that pointed to my smooth and absent pussy. My toes were gone completely, fused together and totally solid. My nipples were gone, and my breasts were smooth, symmetrical, and perfect. All my hair was gone, and the ceiling lights glinted off the top of my head. My face was the same, minus the scar on my cheek from an accident a few years ago, but my eyes glowed an eery yellow. I had to admit, I looked damn good, even for a robot.

“Unit, morph into host form and revert to her control.”

I watched as my chrome skin swiftly changed color and texture, becoming my old, pink-olive skin. My hair grew back to its old length below my shoulder blades. I got my sex, nipples, navel and toes back as well. My eyes flashed yellow once more before becoming the familiar hazel again.

“Damn it, Doc! Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” I wanted to throttle him, but found I still couldn’t.

“Would have gone along with it if I had? ‘I’m going to turn you into a robot.’ I don’t think so.”

I couldn’t respond to that, becasue he was right. I spent a moment inspecting my body closely. Everything was the way it was before, except that my skin tone was completely even and I was hairless from the neck down. My breasts were still perfect...in fact, my whole body was. I would be any guy’s wildest fantasy...and probably more than a few girl’s too.

“So, Doc...tell me about this body.”

“I don’t have to. You know everything already.”

Again he was right. My skin and hair was an organic-silicone polymer, and all my internal organs except my brain had been replaced with electromechanic analogs. The now-useless organs, like intestines and gall bladder and spleen, were gone, the space taken up my processors and holding tanks for the skin polymer. All my muscles had become super-efficient biosyntheic contractile devices. My whole body was much more efficient than it used to be. My programming was simple actually. I was programmed to act as a maid if needed, and could cook like some of the best chefs in the world. I was a black belt in every known form of hand-to-hand and blade combat, could operate with pinpoint accuracy any weapon, and could proficiently use every known military vehicle on the planet. I was a one woman army, and I liked it. I was virtual storehouse of technical, scientific, and cultural knowledge. Call me Angie, the walking Internet.

“Why’d you give me all this, Doc? I mean, what’s your angle?”

“I believe this is the next step for humanity, Angelica. We must transcend the flesh to evolve. You’ll live virtually forever, given the proper care. You’ve been given a great power. You must learn to use it wisely.”

There was something else he wanted to say, but I knew he was having a hard time saying it.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Yes. Certain...groups...are rather opposed to my innovation, and would to anything to destroy it and anything associated with it. Which means you. There are others would who do anything to get this and abuse it. You must protect it from both. I am unimportant. Only the technology must remain, and it must be used for good.”

I nodded, understanding all this. “But, there’s something else too...something nagging at me. It’s...saddness.”

“Yes, the conversion loop. The conversion subroutine is plugged into your neural pathways that control sad emotions. When you convert three people, the subroutine will shut down.”

I nodded. It felt good to have a mission in life. And I knew who I would get together with first. I checked my internal chronometer: 4:00 pm. Wow, I’ve been here 6 hours.

“Thank you, Doctor. I know what I have to do.”

“Thank you, Angelica Matthews. Now go. I fear for you even now. They are always watching.”

I smiled and put my clothes on, then left the office and walked home. I walked inside and plopped down on the couch, pondering my new existence. I needed a new job, and figured with my body I could probably get a modeling job, at least until I built up enough money to retire and start converting people. I could certainly get used to the whole immortality thing if I had a steady income. And I needed to get a hold of my girl friends as soon as I could. I needed companions. This whole sadness thing was bugging me. But, I think, on the whole...life has become pretty good.