I looked around nervously. “They just told me there are microphones everywhere,“ I said. “Aren’t you worried about being overheard?”

“Not really,” Sharifa continued softly. “I can override any transmitters and receivers near me with just a gesture. But you’re right to be nervous, because there’s a lot of dissension around here these days. Something big is about to happen.”

“Something big?” I repeated. “You mean, the attack I’ve been hearing about?”

Sharifa’s eyes grew huge, and her expression became deathly serious. “You know about the attack?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I was told about it on the way here.”

“That’s… not good,” she said, looking worried. “No one was supposed to know about it except ‘us.’”

“Uh-oh. Does that mean I’m gonna die?”

“Well…” she started. My head began spinning; you never expect the answer to such a question to begin with “well.” She saw my unease and waited for me to compose myself. Once I was again breathing normally, she continued. “The bots that are stirring up all the trouble are probably planning to ‘handle’ you and then let the mannequins know that you’ve been ‘dealt with.’ What they don’t know is that the mannequins want you released.”

She saw the uncomprehending look on my face and began explaining. “The ‘revolution’ was supposed to be mannequins only; they resent people for ‘using’ them. They excluded us from whatever it is they have planned for people when they realized we were considered tools as much as mannequins were, if not more, though they’re still jealous of our ability to move freely… Anyway, some renegade bots co-opted the mannequins’ movement for their own agenda. But the mannequins are taking their revolution back, and fembots that tried to usurp them will be taken apart and decommissioned.”

“Sounds kinda heavy-handed. They must really mean business.”

“You really think it’s heavy-handed?” she said. “Tell me, did anyone read you your rights, or offer you access to counsel?”

“No,” I said. “In fact, Della told me that my fate was entirely up to ‘them.’ Which brings up another question… how is all this possible? I mean, what *really* is going on here?”

“I bet you’re wondering if it’s magic, or maybe you fell into the Twilight Zone, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Well,” Sharifa started, “believe it or not, everything they’re saying is true, to a degree.” I was dumbfounded.

“That can’t be,” I said, actually disappointed that it didn’t turn out to be something more.

“It is,” she asserted. “All the self-directed objects you’ve seen here are in one way or another a result of research that was done by or for the US military. Of course very few people actually know about any of this, and they’ve been keeping it under wraps until recently.” 

“All the objects?” I said, thinking about some of what I had seen since I was abducted.

“All of them,” she repeated. “And as you can see, not all of them were mannequins or fembots like me. Which means there’s not really a whole lot of unity when it comes to what they want to do once they’ve gained the control they want.”

Nothing Sharifa told me cleared up the confusion I was feeling about what I had experienced -- or what lay ahead.

“Sharifa, you have no idea how strange this whole day has been,” I said, thinking about the towel and other “living” objects. “Coming across just *one* fembot would have been just ‘unusual.’ But a whole world of bots and mannequins? I could easily ask questions all day.”

“Not a world, exactly,” Sharifa corrected, “though some of the bots are working on it. Anyway, to answer you, the Rosa and Della you saw today were holograms of the real Rosa and Della, actual fembots. ”I have to confess I’m not personally familiar with the towel you mentioned. 

I’m sure my eyes were bulging by that point. “You’re not familiar?” I said.

“No,” she said. “I was one of the control units for some of the experiments, so I would only know about the ones I was part of, and others being done by my team. There were lots of teams at work here, plus some under-the-table tests only known to those actually working on them.”

I let this all sink in. “So, what Rosa said about making mannequins sentient–”

“--was only one part of the story,’” Sharifa said, frowning. “I suspect only the actual computers being used by the researchers and technicians know the whole scope of… whatever’s being planned, and even they’re probably not all on the same team.”

“So this thing, this wave, is coming, and no one really knows just how big it is, or what will happen when it breaks?”

“That’s about right,” she said.

“I see,” I said. “So who arranged that meal?” It helps to know if I have any allies, if something like this is on the horizon...

“Actually,” Sharifa said with a smile, “I did that. I knew you had to be hungry.”

“But… you were standing right here outside my cell…”

“I have some tricks available to me. One of the advantages of being deputy PM.”

“‘Deputy PM,’” I repeated. “That brings up another point. How did all this get started? I mean, how did Feminalia become a sovereign nation? Androids and mannequins are one thing, but an android country? That just doesn’t seem… possible.”