PREVIEW: Robotic Rehabilitation
#1 of Subscriber Previews
This is an excerpt from a story that you can read the full version of on either my subscribestar page by following this link! Or with my patreon page over here! Every bit of support you can offer would help me so much! However if you're happy to wait the full story will be released in a few months time.
A commission from frickingdragon
Summary: After an honest mistake, Zeke is arrested in a city that uses a semi-autonomous robots instead of prisons. Already reeling from how different things are, the shark runs to the wrong place at the wrong time, catching the eye of a criminal hacker.
"What now? What's going on?" Zeke asked as the machines within the tube started to move. Fresh cuffs were clipped at his ankles, wrists and neck. An additional clasp grasped his waist, and together they lifted him off the ground. More arms were moving, with something cold pressed against the open slit of the suit. He felt something shift within, then a spine-tingling feeling as he felt devices clipped over the opening. Discreet, barely touching and barely intrusive devices that implied their purpose more from their location than anything. Coupled with the fact they clicked and locked with a belt that secured itself over the tail and between the legs.
The guards didn't answer directly, instead saying. "Until your court appearance you are expected to pull your weight in community service."
His expression flickered, he could only guess what that entailed. "Why community service? If I'm not free to go, and not convicted, then what about the jails?"
"We don't use those here." The officer with the tag A3 said in a tone that made it sound like she was truly confused that Zeke didn't already know. "All suspects are given community service until their trials to combat the inefficiency of simple lock-up prisons and to give them a chance to make a better impression on the judicial hearing."
Something squeezed over Zeke's legs and arms, segmented to leave his joints free, he looked down, seeing the smoothed metal alloy plates... the familiarity of them striking him when they'd been laid across his legs and chest. He'd seen them before, on the robot that had given him directions, directions he'd ignored. It couldn't mean what he thought, could it?
The machinery sped up around him, the plates were held in place while more from behind scooped together, a flexible screw pushed through small holes and was wound shut, tightening it down, bolting it at an angle that without the same specialised tools would be difficult even to see!
"Please, I'll do service or whatever- Do I have to wear this? I won't be able to get out!"
Thick boots were pressed over his feet, fitted with solid soles then covered by metal plates that clipped to shin-guards, adding to his height, evening it out so he would match the other robots.
"Will you get him hooked up so he stops blathering already?" One of the officers called out.
"H-hooked up?" He asked, turning to see one of the officers had retrieved another plate from one of the shelves, a moulded solid shape, suited to fit over his face. When it was pushed up and he saw the thick lining within, complete with a mouth-filling pocket. It was to his view, totally solid, nary a hole for his nostrils or eyes. "Wait, please! Please!"
His begging had just as little effect as before. The guard fed the face-plate to a robotic arm, just as Zeke felt another panel being pushed behind him, cradling the back of his head and skull. Before he could blink the automated frame clapped the bulk over his head, connecting to the back, magnetised at first and then tightened by those same, intricate screws. "Mmm! Mmm!" Zeke mumbled, jaw clamped firmly shut around a mass that pushed over the tongue. His breathing wasn't blocked at least, instead sounding hollow and refracted, due to a tube that ran along the inside of the mask to his nose.
Furthermore the padding of the mask pressed against his face with the exception of the eyes, where there was a little room to spare. So close to his skull he heard each click of the metal being put together. "Mmmmhh..."
As pathos inducing as the poor shark's cries were, he may as well not have been alive to how little the officers responded. The machinery took over, pulling Zeke's limbs out to be stretched, even as he tried some last defiant tugs.
In his world of darkness his senses were all turned inward. All he could taste was the synthetic shape in his mouth, all he could smell was the lining that fed him the air. His ears were too subjected to the steady and rhythmic noises of the machinery to be of use and that left the growing few feelings as the last metal was stamped against the shining suit, clamping down and obscuring any of the shark's features until he looked interchangeable with all other robots in the city.
He continued to mewl for mercy or clemency as best he could, feeling the adjustments being carried out. Tightness growing around his body without inhibiting the joints too much, things being attached and bolted into place down his back and a slow tracing tool that he could only assume was helping to cover any of the seams or splits that might show up.
Something brushed at his heels then began to brush higher. At first it felt like carefully constructed parts between the metal and the lining, subtle tools that could massage his muscles. Yet it was in fact the suit itself, composed of the synthetic fibres and mixed with nanites that adjusted itself until it had moulded the interior perfectly to him and to the metal around him.
Posted using PostyBirb
"What now? What's going on?" Zeke asked as the machines within the tube started to move. Fresh cuffs were clipped at his ankles, wrists and neck. An additional clasp grasped his waist, and together they lifted him off the ground. More arms were moving, with something cold pressed against the open slit of the suit. He felt something shift within, then a spine-tingling feeling as he felt devices clipped over the opening. Discreet, barely touching and barely intrusive devices that implied their purpose more from their location than anything. Coupled with the fact they clicked and locked with a belt that secured itself over the tail and between the legs.
The guards didn't answer directly, instead saying. "Until your court appearance you are expected to pull your weight in community service."
His expression flickered, he could only guess what that entailed. "Why community service? If I'm not free to go, and not convicted, then what about the jails?"
"We don't use those here." The officer with the tag A3 said in a tone that made it sound like she was truly confused that Zeke didn't already know. "All suspects are given community service until their trials to combat the inefficiency of simple lock-up prisons and to give them a chance to make a better impression on the judicial hearing."
Something squeezed over Zeke's legs and arms, segmented to leave his joints free, he looked down, seeing the smoothed metal alloy plates... the familiarity of them striking him when they'd been laid across his legs and chest. He'd seen them before, on the robot that had given him directions, directions he'd ignored. It couldn't mean what he thought, could it?
The machinery sped up around him, the plates were held in place while more from behind scooped together, a flexible screw pushed through small holes and was wound shut, tightening it down, bolting it at an angle that without the same specialised tools would be difficult even to see!
"Please, I'll do service or whatever- Do I have to wear this? I won't be able to get out!"
Thick boots were pressed over his feet, fitted with solid soles then covered by metal plates that clipped to shin-guards, adding to his height, evening it out so he would match the other robots.
"Will you get him hooked up so he stops blathering already?" One of the officers called out.
"H-hooked up?" He asked, turning to see one of the officers had retrieved another plate from one of the shelves, a moulded solid shape, suited to fit over his face. When it was pushed up and he saw the thick lining within, complete with a mouth-filling pocket. It was to his view, totally solid, nary a hole for his nostrils or eyes. "Wait, please! Please!"
His begging had just as little effect as before. The guard fed the face-plate to a robotic arm, just as Zeke felt another panel being pushed behind him, cradling the back of his head and skull. Before he could blink the automated frame clapped the bulk over his head, connecting to the back, magnetised at first and then tightened by those same, intricate screws. "Mmm! Mmm!" Zeke mumbled, jaw clamped firmly shut around a mass that pushed over the tongue. His breathing wasn't blocked at least, instead sounding hollow and refracted, due to a tube that ran along the inside of the mask to his nose.
Furthermore the padding of the mask pressed against his face with the exception of the eyes, where there was a little room to spare. So close to his skull he heard each click of the metal being put together. "Mmmmhh..."
As pathos inducing as the poor shark's cries were, he may as well not have been alive to how little the officers responded. The machinery took over, pulling Zeke's limbs out to be stretched, even as he tried some last defiant tugs.
In his world of darkness his senses were all turned inward. All he could taste was the synthetic shape in his mouth, all he could smell was the lining that fed him the air. His ears were too subjected to the steady and rhythmic noises of the machinery to be of use and that left the growing few feelings as the last metal was stamped against the shining suit, clamping down and obscuring any of the shark's features until he looked interchangeable with all other robots in the city.
He continued to mewl for mercy or clemency as best he could, feeling the adjustments being carried out. Tightness growing around his body without inhibiting the joints too much, things being attached and bolted into place down his back and a slow tracing tool that he could only assume was helping to cover any of the seams or splits that might show up.
Something brushed at his heels then began to brush higher. At first it felt like carefully constructed parts between the metal and the lining, subtle tools that could massage his muscles. Yet it was in fact the suit itself, composed of the synthetic fibres and mixed with nanites that adjusted itself until it had moulded the interior perfectly to him and to the metal around him.