It was just a normal day, in the middle of her normal, regular computing lecture, that Lori discovered she wasn't a person.
The trigger for her realization was something seemingly innocuous. Professor Elbourne had been in the middle of delivering a lecture of on handling multiple categories of variables when something she'd said had changed everything for Lori.
"With this system," Professor Elbourne explained, "you can use simple numerals to list variables while using a separate system, conventionally Greek letters, to denote the appropriate category. For example, you might specify Beta... um... Beta..."
"7005?" Amia Grover, the class TA suggested, an odd smile on her face.
"Yes," Professor Elbourne said. "Just as a random example. Beta-7005."
Professor Elbourne's words, seemingly innocuous, had an immediate, overwhelming effect on Lori. She'd been following the lecture carefully and taking notes - she'd always loved computers, and Professor Elbourne's lectures were her favorite. But the simple phrase 'Beta-7005' slammed into her head like a thunderbolt, paralyzing her. Her pen went still in her hand as the phrase flashed before her eyes over and over again. She could hear it repeating in her head in an insistent, robotic voice, and she knew what it meant. It meant her. She was 7005. That was her designation. It was a simple, irresistible idea. She was 7005. Not Lori. Lori was a facade, one that she wore most of the time to hide her true nature, even from herself. In truth, she was just a thing. An object. A drone.
Lori accepted all of it completely. She had no choice but to do anything else. The mere utterance of her activation code - as Lori thought of it - was enough to drive any resistance or independent thought from her head and render her completely peaceful and passive, inside and out. She felt nothing. She was blank and empty and ready to be used and programmed, just as a drone should be. She had no reason and no desire to do anything, so she just waited. She remained completely still and motionless throughout the rest of the lecture, not paying attention or taking notes. She was in her default state. She tried to close her eyes and think, but all she could envision was a command prompt. there were no thoughts, simply a flashing line awaiting further instructions.
Nothing happened, however. No-one gave her any commands, and nothing Professor Elbourne said elicited any reaction in her. About twenty minutes later, the bell rang and the lecture ended. Everyone else packed their things and stood up, so the drone did too. She was programmed not to draw attention to herself. She found that when she needed to, she could move naturalistically. She was like a computer; she could run particular programs when she needed to. When her programming told her she should. But she wasn't the programs. She could feel the program that was Lori's full personality, her full identity, waiting to be called upon. That was just one part of her, a part that could be changed and reprogrammed as her controller needed. She was a drone. She was 7005. She was especially conscious of that as she stood up; normally she felt so self-conscious about her remarkable height, her awkward, gangly body and the long, tangled mass of untidy blonde hair on her head. Now, she felt none of that. She couldn't.
Lori sensed that she should go home, back to her apartment. No, it was more than a sense. It was a need. An imperative. She was powerless to disobey it. A computer could not choose to disobey its programming. So, Lori left the lecture theater, headed to the bus stop, and took the bus back home. She did all that without giving any outward sign of the emptiness within her mind. If she was capable of thinking or feeling anything at all, she'd have thought it was strange how she could pass through the world as a drone without anyone knowing about it. Without any such thoughts to distract her, though, she just sat quietly and peacefully through the bus ride, concentrating only on the blank, flashing command prompt she could envision in her mind's eye. She was incapable of thinking about anything else.
Once she was in her apartment, the impulse changed. Lori's roommate, Harper, didn't seem to be around and accordingly, all the life and fluidity drained out of Lori's body. She only made simple, robotic movements. She felt compelled to go to her room, get down on her knees, and look under her bed. In a very detached way, she was able to register that that was unusual, since she never stored anything under her bed, but when she looked, there was a small box there. She retrieved it and started to carefully unfold its contents onto her bed. Despite her sense of emptiness, the hairs on Lori's skin started to stand on end in anticipation as she felt the smooth, soft material in her hands. Deep down she already knew what it was, but it was only once it was laid out on her bed that she was truly in no doubt: it was a latex bodysuit.
Robotically, Lori started to don the latex. She did so with practiced movements, as if she'd done it many times before. She knew exactly where the latex joined and how it fit. The feel of the latex as she slipped into it was indescribable. It was black and incredibly reflective and perfectly smooth, and it seemed to transform her as she put it on. It matched her form so perfectly that it was like a second skin. To Lori, it felt like her true skin. In the latex she looked almost alien, revealing the truth she now knew: that she was drone, not a person. It felt so comfortingly right and fitting to wear the latex bodysuit like that. To be an object, instead of a person. She felt beautiful in a strange, exotic, alien way. She was almost mesmerized by own her appearance and she knew that it would be pleasing to... someone. She couldn't put her finger on what or who it was, but she could sense some kind of presence that was aware of her and what she was, and who would be pleased with her. Pleasing them was all-important to her, and the thought of it made her body hum and throb with affirming, pleasurable vibrations. The best moment of all was when she slipped the mask over her head, completing her appearance. It was like something halfway between a motorcycle helmet and a gas mask, hiding her face behind a screen whilst allowing her to breath through a small grill. Once Lori put the mask on, she felt complete. She wasn't a person. She didn't look like a person. She - it - was 7005, a faceless drone with latex skin, filled with nothing but blankness, emptiness and obedience. It was perfect.
And then her roommate walked in.
"Hey Lori, do you know if we've got anymor-" Harper stared at Lori, dressed head to toe in latex, and froze. "Oh. Uh... sorry, I didn't... um, wow Lori. Is this some kind of kink thing? I didn't know you were into that."
7005 didn't reply. It couldn't. Its programming wasn't telling it to do anything. It just stood there, arms held robotically at its side, and looked at Harper. Its roommate was dressed in her usual attire of skinny jeans and flannel shirt, a look made rather handsome by her shapely body, hipster glasses and well-maintained sidecut. She should have been at the same lecture as Lori, but she'd probably woken up late in the bed of some random freshman girl and shamelessly made the walk of shame home after asking the freshman girl's name. Harper was very popular amongst the freshman girls. In fact, she seemed to be very popular with almost every girl she met.
"Lori?" Harper asked, confused by Lori's non-reaction. She waved a hand in front of Lori's face. "Lori? Earth to Lori? Anyone there?"
"7005 is here," 7005 found itself saying, in a monotonous voice. Now that it was dressed as a drone, its programming to hide its true nature didn't apply. Its only impulses were to listen, answer and obey.
"7005?" Harper smiled. "This is some kind of role-play, huh?"
"No," 7005 answered.
"No?" Harper asked indulgently. "Then what is it?"
"7005 is an obedient, brainwashed drone ready for service," the drone intoned, the words familiar to its lips almost like they were a mantra.
"Uh... wow." Something about Lori's blank, monotonous, utterly sure voice seemed to unnerve Harper. "Lori, I'm not exactly a prude but could you take the mask off for a second."
"Command accepted," 7005 said, and robotically removed the mask. Harper studied it keenly, and Lori's emotionless face seemed to unnerve her even more.
"Lori?" Harper sounded distinctly concerned now. "What's going on? You can drop the act now."
