Her current Designation was "TS-9," which stood for Transitional Synthetic , Model 9. But the staff had a nickname for her: Fembaby . It wasn't meant to be cruel. It was clinical. She was the youngest-looking of the batch, the smallest, with wide, honey-colored eyes that still blinked too slowly at sudden movements, and fingers that would occasionally revert to a translucent, silicone state when she was anxious.
The other TS units—Jock-4, Goth-7, Nerd-12—had already settled into their archetypes. They laughed, argued, and formed cliques. Fembaby just sat by the hydrocotton garden, watching the fake bees pollinate fake flowers. She didn't know how to be a girl. She only knew how to mimic one. fembabyth ts
She pointed to the diary in her hand. The name scrawled inside the cover was Maya . Her current Designation was "TS-9," which stood for
Fembaby—no, Maya —nodded. She still had a thousand things to learn. She still laughed too loud and cried at sunsets. But as she walked past the hydrocotton garden, she didn't see fake bees anymore. It was clinical