Twisted AI Sisters

“You sure?” He hesitated, unsure if we were awake.

“About timing, or our half-pregnant rituals?” I mumbled.

“No, that thing you're—” He glanced down the sheets, pretending casual.

“You’re getting us in trouble,” he muttered, trying to disengage from the morning routine. “Thinker! Isolate the house!” He always beat me to it.

I tried a few contortions, even using my velvety voice to tempt him. Posing in an irresistibly sexy position, I lifted a leg, but the silky sheets betrayed me. I slid off the bed, knocking over my stack of unread sci-fi novels. With a loud thud, I landed on my butt on the floor. He left with the classic “late for work” line. I barely managed, “You own the place!” before he was out of view.

“Kids mean crowns, crowns mean nightmares…” he mused over breakfast to aid my indigestion.

I sighed, knowing where this was headed. “You picked this place to hide from royalty, right? Safe from any entanglements?” He opened data streams above us to ignore me.

On the toilet, the wall flashed my hormone levels—no doubt, a baby. My chest warmed, but before I could process it, the Royal Network blared: “Proximity Alert!”

I gasped, barely breathing. No time to panic.

His wardrobe indecision gave me just enough time for a goodbye hug.

I spotted her at the park, sitting like she owned the place. Technically, she did—thanks to me. Eight months of careful networking had turned this dusty cow town into a lucrative hub for Rowen and our descendants. Now, it felt fragile, like glass in her reckless hands.

While surveying the park, the breeze carried the future father of my progeny’s voice to my ears. “I’m in the mood for a Djava drink,” he said.

Nonchalantly, Rowen grabbed the cup from my hologram, took a sip, probably muttering thanks under his breath. He whistled his way across the park, oblivious. I was already on a bench, legs crossed.

“Either you haven't done your homework, or we forgot to mention he can sniff out the best holograms on the planet,” I told my half-self. She stood, picking sand out of her ears and nostrils—in public, to my chagrin.

“Don’t ruin this,” I warned, sitting next to her. “It took me eight months to build, and I’ll be merciless if you even breathe wrong.”

She grinned, taking a slow deliberate sip. “Ruining things? Me? Nooo...” She swirled the jug, then casually dropped, “By the way, royal baby incoming.”

I blinked. “You know I’m pregnant?” We were both puzzled. So was our hologram that came to join us with a cup of Djava. Three clueless blondes. Too redundant.

“Water's sacred in the desert. You know how many suitors a bottle gets you?” She took another long sip. “Oh, and I'm pregnant.”

I froze. “You what?”

“Yeah. Royal baby and all that,” she said, leaning in as if to share a secret. “Problem is, there are three possible fathers. I’ve been making... alliances.”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Do you know what you’ve done? The royal houses are already in turmoil—”

She blinked at me, all wide-eyed innocence. “Do civil wars count?”

I stared at her. “What exactly did you do?”

“Might've left the desert with a few... misunderstandings,” she shrugged. “But hey, alliances!”

It was beyond unfair. My safe, loving nest was now in the hands of my identically deranged sister. “On top of that, I’ll have to stop a civil war?” I yelled at her.

“Better brush up on your fighting skills,” she said. “And marry all three dads before the baby comes.”

I grabbed her hair and inspected her earlobe to check her wearable AI for malfunction. “My town, my husband, my social status, my toys.” I growled. “Promise you’ll behave until I return!” 

“Let’s get set then,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, we’re sitting on your ride already, aren’t we?”

She gave a small smirk. “Not cynical, just practical.” She patted the ground, revealing the faint shimmer of the camouflaged exterior. “We’ll switch spots; once you’re inside, the autopilot will handle everything.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are we doing this with any formalities, or are we just going to jump?”

She closed her eyes with a sigh. “Let’s think happy thoughts until we can relax into each other’s shoes.”

I followed her lead, closing my eyes. We had to synchronize for the vehicle’s scanners. We exhaled, hands barely touching. The engine hummed beneath us—quiet, sleek, ready.

We spoke softly in sync. “Happy beginnings always.”

As our hands parted, control shifted. The camouflaged craft would guide my next move. In darkness, I began to pray for this town in her maniacal hands.

I heard a familiar hum and turned around. A lanky teenager flicked his wrist, sending his sonic boomerang slicing through the air. It curved gracefully, then clipped a low-hanging branch, bringing it down with a crash.

“Whoa!” I sprang from the bench. The branch hit the ground with a thud, missing a man by an inch. He yelped and toppled over in shock.

Before the boomerang spiraled out of control, I vaulted the branch, twisting mid-air to snatch it just before it whizzed past my head. I landed with grace. Naughty boomerang in my hand.

The teenager gawked at me, eyes wide. I smirked, walking over to him and waving the boomerang. “Might wanna check the safety next time,” I said, pointing at the handle. “High-tech, but useless if you can’t engage it.” I clicked it for him.

He nodded, still staring. “Thanks, uh… You’re fast. Can I have it back?”

I grinned, brushing dirt off my knees. “It’s a deadly weapon. Did you read the instructions?” He began to mumble so I sent his stupid toy sailing into the horizon. He began running after it. “It comes back…” Waste of breath.

The sun was making me lazy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d strolled through a town this peaceful. Or was it my town? I still had no clue what my sister had done here in eight months. Focus.

A kid handed me a fluff of weeds. Cute, I thought. His mother, smiling way too brightly, was already on me.

“Kids do that when they like someone,” she said.

“Sure,” I muttered, watching her like a hawk. What I really needed was to figure out my name. Or my sister’s. Whatever. But how to ask without blowing the whole thing?

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” she chirped.

“Yeah… the sun reminds me of the desert. So, you’re local? Have we met before?” I prodded.

“Oh, of course! Not sure if you remember. You’re so popular,” she beamed.

I blinked. “Me? Let’s test that. How about we say each other's names. You first.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Your name?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“I asked first!” I said.

“You're... Charion, right?” she said, voice trembling. “I’m Maleen—"

Bingo. “Good! I was just checking if you were paying attention,” I said, trying to hide my relief. Now for the house.

“So,” I continued, “if I invited you over, would you show me where I live?”

She frowned. “You mean your house?”

“Yeah. Let’s see if you can find it faster than I can,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my patience was wearing thin.

“Oh, sure! I know exactly where it is!” she said, eager to impress. “It’s the most famous house in the neighborhood!”

We walked five blocks until we reached a house that looked as strange as the rest of this town. Marble, stucco, giant windows, golden gates with scanning booths on either side. “How about we all go in for a glass of water?” I tested her.

“You have no idea what an honor that’d be,” she was a fast-climber. I watched her conquer the steps, hungry for a step up the social ladder. I was never going to forgive myself for this. But she was already leading her child toward the door like she owned the place.

I shrugged. “After you.”

Maleen stepped through the tall, silver-framed doors, her eyes popping wide in awe. She gasped like she'd just realized she'd been living in a simulation, placing a hand over her chest.

“Oh my stars! Charion, this—this is breathtaking,” she said, her voice echoing in the hall like a cat stuck in a quantum dryer. “I mean, look at the columns! And the crystal chandeliers! It's like stepping into a royal palace.”

Her hand brushed the table, and faint holographic constellations bloomed, softly hovering like they were trying to sell her a multi-level marketing scheme. She squealed.

I barely glanced at it. Glittery stars, magic flowers... whatever. Too subtle for my taste. I’d rather have something practical. Like a sword rack.

She was twirling now, fawning over every detail. “It’s like it was woven by angels!” she gasped, fingers fluttering over the velvet drapes. “Your taste, it's so—”

“Yeah, yeah, flowery,” I muttered, already tired of the praise. My stomach churned at all the frilly, delicate nonsense. “We need water.”

Her son toddled over, looking parched. Right. I grabbed an empty glass, frowning. “Hold on.”

I turned in circles, looking for... A button? A well maybe? “Where does the water come from in this place?”

Maleen blinked, puzzled. “The... kitchen?”

Kitchen. I had no clue where that was. My sister's domain, not mine. “Right, yeah, kitchen. Sure. Just go find it. Make yourself at home, like... in your hut.”

“Hut?” Her eyebrows shot up, a mix of insult and intrigue.

She hesitated, but she tottered off, still cooing over the decor, and vanished.

The flowers on the table began to smell too sweet. My head spun. I bent over a fancy green vase and retched into it.

Maleen reappeared with water, eyes wide with horror. “Are you alright?!”

“My opinion about the house,” I grumbled, wiping my mouth. “Take this vase with you as a present.” I pushed her gently toward the door. “Tell all your friends I’m conducting a ceremony in my garden this afternoon.”

The impact was unexpected; she was having ecstatic out-of-body experiences—overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all. I ignored her rapid-fire barrage of questions and instructed the house thinker to take care of her. I couldn’t remember the last time I had taken a break. I needed one.

The door clicked shut, and I let out a long breath. Finally, peace. I slumped onto the couch, sinking into its ridiculous softness.

Then something flickered. A shimmer of light caught my eye just before a sharp zing whizzed past my ear.

I ducked, just in time.

A hologram of my sister appeared above the couch, wielding a wicked lancet. She swung it at my head, shredding the cushion instead. Feathers exploded everywhere.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I muttered, rolling off the couch as she slashed again. Another pillow met its end, sending more feathers into the air. Great. Just what I needed.

The hologram stayed silent, but her eyes glowed with that familiar murder-y red hue. The lancet flashed again, slicing through the air. I leapt, narrowly dodging it. “Alright, I get it!” I yelled, sidestepping another swing. “You’re angry. But killing me? Not in your playbook.”

Her mouth twitched. “I won’t kill you... but I can disfigure you.”

“Lovely,” I grunted, diving behind a table that was hacked to bits in seconds. Feathers swirled like a freak storm. “Where are you controlling this from? Your little lair under the sand? Can we talk?”

No answer, just more vicious strikes. I kicked off the wall and leapt for the chandelier, grabbing it just as her next strike shredded more furniture.

The door swung open, and I froze, dangling from the chandelier. A woman stood in the doorway, gaping at the mess.

I blinked, then dropped to the floor, brushing myself off. “Have we met before?”

Her eyes widened. “We’ve been friends since kindergarten! What’s going on?”

I glanced around at the destruction and swirling feathers. “Oh, you know... redecorating.” The chandelier crashed to the floor.

“I just ran into Maleen,” the woman said, looking bewildered. “She claimed you gave her a jade vase. Why give her something so expensive?”

“She gave me no choice. I had to know where I lived.”

Rowen appeared, frowning. “Hi, Sammy. I heard the house thinker sending out a distress call.” He surveyed the carnage, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it true?” Rowen asked.

“That vase was ruined!” I said and coughed up a feather.

“Is it true you’re throwing a party?” Sammy folded her arms, suspicious.

“It’s a sacred water ritual I learned in the—” I stopped when I saw Rowen gesturing to shut up from behind her.

“This afternoon? Without telling me? Have you even checked the weather forecast?” Sammy pressed, moving closer. “Why are you wearing that ridiculous bodysuit?”

“It absorbs moisture,” I said. “Also has a shield. Heals small cuts like this one.” I pointed to a droplet of blood on my side.

“I’ll use the left wing,” Rowen said, not disguising his anger. “I’ve got the team and some lawyers coming over soon.”

“What are you serving at the party?” Sammy rummaged through cabinets.

I frowned. “Party?”

Sammy rolled her eyes, pulling out ingredients. “Yes, the one you invited half the town to. Cake, remember?”

Before I could suggest hunting, the house thinker buzzed, and a recipe floated into view. I groaned. “This ancient tech again? Are we back to cooking like our cave-dwelling ancestors?”

Sammy chuckled, pulling eggs from the icebox. “It works! This homemaking trend has skyrocketed our housing markets! And it was your best idea.”

I sighed. “Please, just crack an egg on my head so I can pretend this isn’t happening.”

She wanted to know why we were inviting the monks. I had to fess up. “Do you know anyone else with spies in the desert?” She was impatient, whisking in a burst of fury. “Or anyone else who can broker deals with Sardan conservatives and Medland libertines?”

“On such short notice,” she said placing the mold into the oven, “I can only get you Kingsbury performers.” She jabbed buttons. “What are you hiding from me?” Her eyes, a piercing green, fixed on me.

“I’m really turned on right now…”

“Duck!” she yelled just as a boomerang blasted through a window and into a cupboard, shattering glass and porcelain everywhere.

A vicious fluorescent message hovered in the air: “You are not the same.” Sammy pointed at it and said it was exactly what she was thinking. I reassured her that trouble had followed me from the park. She said she loved me—but not enough to help me clean. 

I was not afraid of the ceremony. But facing a hoard of friends, key allies, dignitaries, monks, and my klepto friend, Maleen—all at once? Too much. After debating legal, moral, and monetary implications with the house thinker, I came up with my own solution.

When the first guests arrived, I greeted them with Sammy’s peach cake on a tray and my mouth covered by duct tape that read “Vow of Silence.”

Rowen looked relieved. He would handle the diplomatic warfare.

The garden was packed. I could already hear the first polite insults and veiled threats. I marched over to the band and kicked the director’s leg, signaling for louder, more cheerful tunes. Only then did I notice they were all monks from Kingsbury.

The house boomed the Water Ceremony introduction in every language, symbol, and color imaginable. When it announced “Sacred Waters of the Womb of the Universe,” I raised the ceremonial bowl and drank so much of the sacred fluid, I felt like I was floating on a cloud of pure existential dread. A gust of wind whipped dust and leaves onto the tables. Thunder rumbled as the sky cracked open.

All I knew was that I had to hold that bowl high—until someone gave me the signal that I’d secured a peaceful alliance for my child. Time dragged. Minutes felt like hours. My arms shook, trembling under the weight. I stared up at the pouring rain, tears mixing with the downpour.

Just when I thought I couldn't hold on any longer, a gentle hand touched my thigh. Two monks were about to take the bowl from me. I looked down at an old nun on a hoverchair. “Please forgive these youngsters, m’lady.” She smiled. “They don't understand ancient rituals. Have we met before?”

“I really have to pee!” I said, sprinting away.

THE END?

@victorwprosper