The green line blipped at regular intervals on the electrocardiogram next to her bed. It was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room, which was how she knew it was there. She couldn't turn her head to see it, only hear it. Something tragic had happened to her, making her afraid and she wanted to wake up.
This bed was pretty comfortable for a hospital, she thought, and then with a sickening churn realized that it only seemed that way because she couldn't feel it at all. Panic seized her guts and she thrashed and flailed against her sheets – except that she didn't. Her limbs refused to respond at all.
Cotton tried to cry out but not a muscle answered. Somewhere to the right, her heart machine was picking up pace, bleeping faster as her pulse began to rise frantically. Straining to open her eyes, all rational thought fled her mind. Open. Open, damn you! She tried to will her lids to flutter upward but they were stubborn.
The incessant beeping stepped up another notch, responding to the heart pounding against her ribcage. What had happened to her? Why couldn't she move? Across the room, a door opened and she heard a switch flip. Light. Suddenly she could see – and to her horror, that was when she realized that her eyes had never been closed at all.
She didn't have eyelids, or if she did they were just always open. Nor was she breathing. She must be dreaming. This was unreal.
A tall man appeared in her field of vision, lifting a wrist and checking her vital signs. Well, she assumed he was tall – she discovered that she could no more visually track him than she could lift a finger. He wore a clinical, white coat and smiled warmly. "An," his voice was gentle, familiar even and she inherently knew that he was there to care for her. This thought calmed her some. "You're finally awake, I'm sorry I wasn't at your bedside but you are doing very well."
Cotton-An the invalid just laid there, unmoving. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "I suppose you have a lot of questions." Perhaps it was the sympathetic link that they shared as twins that clued him in. Reaching for a remote control, the electric whir of the motorized bed came to life, propping her into a sitting position, from which she could better see her room.
Dolls were everywhere. All of her beautiful dolls from childhood. They overflowed the shelves, stacked on her dresser, filled her toy-box and windowsill. Dr. Andy Doll left the room and returned with a high-back chair on wheels, speaking to her again. "It has been almost three years since your accident." The prelude left a twisted knot in Cotton-An's stomach, this felt less and less like a dream.
Leaning over her, he was carefully removing small white circles that had been stuck to her flesh. He unstrapped the arm from which he'd taken her pulse and carefully removed a large needle. His arms scooped her up from the side.
An's head flopped backward, giving her an upside-down view of the enormous, Tudor bed that she had been laying in. It was piled high with blankets and pillows. A saline drip loomed at the head of the bed and an entire consol of neurological and bio-monitoring systems ran wires all over her room.
Dr. Andy nestled her into the antique wheel-chair, her head fell forward this time. Her peripheral vision was suddenly filled with radioflyer-red locks of twisted hair. She was wearing polka-dot, hospital pajamas. Her plum-sized breasts only hinted at dainty curves beneath.
Her brother lifted her head, twining a lock around his finger, lost in a moment of affection. "It was the finest Angora that money could buy. I had it dyed by hand to the perfect shade and it took miraculously well to the plastic surgery process." He fastened a strap around her forehead and then lifted her arms, folding them in her lap.
Circling around the back of the chair, he began rolling her forward and out the bedroom door. It opened into a side alcove from which they turned into a massive foyer. Dark, hardwood floors were polished to perfection, accented by thick, Persian rugs. In the middle of the room was a wide staircase with solid wooden banisters leading to an upper floor. Every wall was decorated with a painting or hanging art. Busts were mounted on carved pillars.
Andy took her on the long tour around the ground floor, being careful to guide her chair so that she could see into each room: a library, billiard room, kitchen, sitting room...apparently the Doll Family was quite rich.
"After only a few months, they wanted to take you off of life-support." Andy recalled aloud, as they navigated the hallways and rooms. "I wouldn't let them – I loved you too much, what would I do without you, An? I knew I could save you so I had your room prepared and we moved you here."
"Sister, you wouldn't believe the advances in medicine over the last decade." His face appeared in her side-vision as he leaned around the chair, eyes glinting. Dr. Andy kissed her cheek. An stared helplessly forward. "The government suppresses the experiments it funds, but if you know where to look, you can find the tools you need."
This was fucked up, she thought.
He wheeled her into a giant bedroom then. "I knew that I had to build you a new body using all the state-of-the art technology and scientific ingenuity I could muster." Even if her nervous system were unresponsive, her instincts began to hum. He turned unexpectedly into a closet, spacious enough to practically be its own bedroom.
"With the exception of your nervous system – that's fiber optic – you are completely organic." He flipped through the hangers and pulled out an electric blue dress with red polka-dots. Although it took him some time and patience, he managed to get her into the dolly outfit. Digging around for a white apron, he explained the complicated procedures he'd had to undertake as he tied the frilly accessory around her slender waist and fitted her shapely legs with red-and-white striped stockings.
Fetching a white muffin cap with a red bow, he pulled it down snug over her red ropes of hair. Watching him as much as should could, An had to secretly confess to herself that the sheer genius of her handsome brother was arousing. Stepping back, he nodded to satisfactorily and guided her chair out of the closet and across the room.
Across the way, a Cheval mirror loomed taller and taller as he wheeled her toward it and stopped.
Raggedy Android saw herself for the first time – a creation of beautiful horror. Her eyes were set pieces of solid jet framed by hair that had been sewn perfectly to her scalp. There were faint scars on all of her joints where the seams of her bio-silk flesh joined together. Perhaps most striking though was her mouth. Her lips had been carefully sculpted into a pert, red heart. Black stitches pierced the flesh of her cheeks in a contrived grin.
"Well? What do you think?" Andy beamed, barely able to suppress the anticipation in his voice. "You are the world's very first bio-tech sex-doll."
