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do and it does not involve sex.
    With a sigh, he donned his dress uniform. He was determined to prove he was strong enough to resist the temptation which gorgeous Ginger represented. Without the protection of his duty blues.
    At least that’s what he told himself.
    The ride to Carron’s manufacturing facility seemed quicker today, and when Wyatt parked his transport, even Bruiser-the-guard let him pass with no problem after Wyatt turned over his weapon.
    Inside, however, was a different matter.
    A thin, white-coated minion with wiry brown hair, thick glasses, and a pock-marked face intercepted Wyatt as soon as he walked in the front door.
    “Welcome, agent Wyatt, welcome!” he effused. “I’m Loris Rhean. Mr. Carron has asked me to serve as your personal guide while you’re here in our facility. I will answer any questions you may have and help you in any way I can.” The man clapped his hands together and smiled broadly, revealing a gap between his two front teeth. “Oh, my. I’m so excited. Being your guide is quite an honor for me.”
    Wyatt frowned. His guide? Or his guard? He didn’t need either one. But it looked like Carron wanted him watched every moment, so Wyatt was going to be stuck with this effervescent sycophant.
    At least it’ll keep me away from Ginger…
    Right. And maybe Wyatt could even get some useful information out this toady.
    “Fine,” he said briskly. “I’d like to get a more detailed look at the factory floor today.”
    “Certainly, certainly,” Rhean agreed brightly. “Right this way, please.”
    Wyatt already knew the way, but he let the mincing assistant lead him down the concrete corridor toward the main factory floor. Good lord, if Wyatt wasn’t mistaken, this Rhean character was actually skipping. There was an odd little spring in his step, as if gravity wasn’t entirely holding him to the ground.
    Great. And I’m stuck with this idiot.
    “Umph.”
    Wyatt squinted. It seemed Rhean was having a bit of trouble sliding aside the heavy metal door at the entrance to the manufacturing floor. What a wuss. Wyatt gave him a hand rolling the door on its track, and for his aid, Wyatt got an ever bigger smile from the smarmy man, and a mild fluttering of his eyelashes.
    Good God.
    Wyatt turned and marched directly to the first machine Carron had showed him yesterday. This was where the initial lump of polymer started its journey to become a robot soldier. He turned to Rhean.
    “Here’s a question for you. Why do the androids have to look like people at all? Why go to so much trouble? Why not make them – I don’t know – faceless, generic?”
    Rhean lay what looked like an affectionate hand on the machine, which made Wyatt wonder if he’d ever taken advantage of the Beautiful Dolls himself.
    “That’s an easy question to answer, agent Wyatt. Since we were already involved in the very detailed work of creating lifelike sex robots for Beautiful Dolls, it was simply more efficient to keep the basic parameters of the manufacturing process when we switched over to robot soldiers. We just did away with some of the more intricate details, like the individuality of their faces, the variety of their body types, their height, hair color, sex organs, that sort of thing.”
    Wyatt supposed that made sense. Why re-invent the wheel when Carron could modify it slightly to fit his new purpose?
    Smart. He threw a quick glance at the glass-walled office nestled in the corner, high above the factory floor, but Wyatt could see no sign of Carron in there. Where was he today?
    He turned back to Rhean. “Speaking of Beautiful Dolls, why didn’t Carron keep that business going? Seems like an awfully big moneymaker to give up.”
    Rhean sighed dramatically. “Our factory is running day and night just to fulfill the High Council’s first shipment order, agent Wyatt. We could never continue to make the intricate Dolls and meet the Council’s deadline, too.”
    Wyatt digested that answer, and then