The three women followed Mr. Mace down the narrow hallway. He lead them to a wide double door and grabbed hold of the golden handles.
"The wood's oak," he said. "I could sense the question off you Jada."
"Oh..." Jada smiled, rubbing her hands with interest.
He pushed it open and the women gasp as they walk through.
It was a huge room. The gleaming white tiles gave it a pristine look. There was a sleek, modern, bar which seamless transitioned into the state-of-the-art-kitchen at the right corner of the room. Several doors were embedded into the side walls, adding a sense of mystery and space.
A tall bookshelf was neatly tucked in the left corner and many paintings decorated the walls. A twisted glass vase rested against the wall, adding a burst of color and some artistic flair.
At the front of the room, there was a massive window, a built in sliding door which led out to the balcony. The women could see a stretch of crystal-blue water glistening in the sunlight.
At the center of the space there was a sunken pit with a bright red couch within, the floor in the pit was wooden tiles.
"Those two doors lead to two bedrooms, with each their own bedrooms," Mr. Mace directed. "Jada," he called.
She whipped around, grinning. "Yes, sugar?" She asked, excitedly.
"These keys belong to the Master bedroom which is connected to Ciema's room," he told her. Jada squealed, jumping up and down.
Ciema pouted and Laila made her way to the bar.
"Relax and do whatever you want, my dears. Your belongings will be brought in soon," he told them with a bow of his head.
"Thank you, Mr. Mace," Laila said, giving him a lazy salute
He returned the gesture with a slight bow. "My pleasure," he replied, then turned on his heel and excited, closing the door softly behind him.
Laila pulled a vodka bottle from the glass cabinet along with a shaker. Slamming both on the marble counter, she caught the attention of the two women.
"You guys want anything?" She asked, a smug smile tugging on her lips.
"Vodka martini, shaken, not stirred," Jada said in a laughably bad British accent. Ciema scoffed. "Bold of you to assume we're going to be spies or something," she said as she descended into the pit.
"Oh come on!" Jada groaned, grin on her face. "It makes so much sense—secretive, mysterious boss, ambiguity about our job. Secret spies," she posed, her fingers formed in a gun. "I'd wish we were. Make more sense if he was Batman," Laila joked, pouring vodka into the shaker. "That's ridiculous," Ciema scoffed.
"Think about—one guy working for him, very rich. Adds up," she points at Jada. Jada returns the gesture and Ciema rolls her eyes.
A sudden, bright voice chirped cheerfully, cutting through the equally cheerful laughter.
"I wish he was," it said brightly. The women froze, looking about.
A holographic blue screen shimmered into view above the center of the room. Two white dots blinked like eyes, complete with a cartoonish pair of eyelashes and a glowing, wide smile.
"Hi, I'm T.I.F.F.A.N.Y," it greeted with chirper energy. "Nice to see my wonderful Amazons again—even if you're different. Again."
The women screamed, stumbling back in alarm. Laila raised the shaker as a weapon.
"Hey now," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y chided, pouting digitally. "I'm your friend. Your digital friend and your screams hurt my feelings."
The women slowly approached the floating screen. "Hi T.I.F.F," Jada whispering, waving.
"Yello!" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y greeted in return.
Ciema shot Jada a sideway glance, then turned to the AI. "Are you—"
"Yep. Ai. Next question?" She chirped.
Jada let out a laugh. "I like her," she grinned.
"What's your name stands for?" Ciema asked, curiously.
"It stands for Terrific, Insightful, Fantastic, Funny, Amazing, Newbie and YOLO!" The AI laughed.
The girls exchanged looks—confusion on their faces.
"Okay," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y admitted, her mouth forming a thin line. "That's not my name. My creator won't tell me for some reason," she rolled her cartoonish digital eyes. "He said he'll tell me when he's dead—and judging by his drinking habit of his—it's pretty soon," she said sweetly, her glowing smile unwavering.
"Great," Laila muttered, dripping with sarcasm. "A robot's in charge of us. What could possibly go wrong?"
"Accidentally triggering the alarm system, sweetie," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y chimed.
Laila ducked, her eyes wide with fear. "The what?"
Ciema however was more intrigued then afraid. She paced the floating AI, her brows furrowed in thought. "So you have mastery of the entire house?" She asked, interested.
"Down to the coffee machine, my dear," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y giggled. "Sweet. I like her," Jada said, approving.
A smug smile came to Ciema's face as she stroked her chin. "Tell me everything about Jaiden Maximoff," she ordered.
"Alright!" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y's face was replaced with various information scrolling on the screen. It paused on one sentence and various pictures popped up.
"Jaiden Maximoff is my creator. He's also the richest man alive," The AI added cheerfully. "How rich?" Jada asked, curious.
The pictured disappear, replaced with her cartoonish face. "He has a net worth of nine hundred billion," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y declared proudly— her eyes transforming into cartoon dollar signs with a little cha-ching sound.
Laila gasped, Jada let out a chocked breath and Ciema blinked. She adjusted her spectacles. "Impossible," she muttered.
"It's true, boo," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y insisted.
"T.I.F.F.A.N.Y," Ciema called her attention back to her. "What's this Amazon thing?"
"Oh right," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y's eyes snapped back to normal. "The Amazons are what you guys are called," the Ai explained. "My creator gathers highly skilled women, trains them, and sends them on high-profile missions: be it stealing data or buying the last lollipop."
Dread coiled in Laila's gut. "So....in other words...."
"You're...spies!" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. sang, her screen blown with confetti. The words You're Spies! flashed across the screen in bold, obnoxious lettering.
Laila turned away, Ciema's eyes widened behind her spectacles and Jada's jaw dropped, her cheerful smile gone.
"What— that's a joke...." Jada stammered, glancing at the others. "What I said earlier was a joke," Jada turned to the other women. "We can't be spies."
"Too damn bad, we are!" Laila pointed angrily at the AI.
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y's smile faltered. "That's not right. You should be shocked, confused...why aren't you happy?" She asked, softly.
Laila turned on her heeI. "Because we don't to die!" She yelled.
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y whimpered. The screen floated back. "You won't," she promised. "Jaiden has—would never—put you all in danger."
Right," Laila laughed bitterly. "This is just great! I'm stuck working for a psychopathic rich man who had too much time on his hands."
Ciema stepped forward, her voice tight but steady. "What are exactly the qualifications for being an Amazon?"
Laila stared at her, flabbergasted . "Are you freaking serious? I don't wanna know and I don't care!" Laila snapped. "I wanna go home."
"We have nothing home!" Ciema shouted back.
Silence fell like a curtain. Jada froze, her eyes bouncing between the two.
Ciema's voice cracked as she continued, "Don't you get it? Society doesn't gave a damn about us, our home lives—mine especially are terrible—none of us matter!"
Her breath hitched. "There is nothing for me out there."
Laila stared, stunned as Ciema fought back tears.
"So....excuse me," she whispered. "For not joining you out that door."
Jada swallowed, her gaze glued to Laila.
Laila gazed down at her hand. It slowly curled into a fist. "Five years," She whispered, her voice trembling. "Maybe I gotta let my dream go."
Jada stepped towards the door and leaned against it.
Ciema gave Laila a curious glance.
"I once had a dream," Laila began, shaking her head. "To follow in my grandpa's footsteps. He was the greatest boxer of all time but not anymore."
"The years took its toll," she explained. " He got Punch Drunk syndrome"
"Chronic traumatic encephalopathy," Ciema nods understandably.
"Yep," Laila whispered. "And he now has dementia. I aspired to be professional boxer but it never worked out."
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y watched on, cartoon tears welling in her eyes.
"My parents want nothing...." Laila paused, biting her lip to keep herself from crying. "I'm all alone and not even closer to my goal."
Ciema glanced at her. Laila flashed a small smile. "I'd thought this be my ticket but maybe it's something better."
Ciema returned the gesture.
"I've done everything a girl would do," Jada smiled fondly. "I have a bucket list—should've brought it."
Ciema let out a chuckle and Laila smiled.
"Yeah," Jada's smile widened.
"I always wanted to meet my birth mother—I'm adopted—" Jada added. "We set up a date and....she never showed."
Laila's brow furrowed in sadness. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Jada nodded, blinking away the tears. "No—No. It's fine. She called our house and said she wasn't coming. That she regretted having me. That my Mommy and Daddy made a mistake...."
Her hair fell in her face as she bowed her head. Slowly, she brushed it off, forcing a smile. "I've never cried so hard in my life. My brothers had to hold me down because of how distressed I was....." she took in a breath. "That kind of stuff can really mess up a kid."
Ciema offered an empathic nod to her. "My life story is now lame," she joked, evoking laughter from the two women.
"It's a tale as old as time," she continued. "Father wants you to be great—and deprives you of one thing: Love."
Her gaze shifted to the bookshelf. "I did anything to make him proud, even giving up my gymnastics spot in the Olympics."
She scoffed, her bitterness rising. "But it wasn't enough. In the end, I pushed the ones who care— my brother, my sister, my mother...."
A heavy silence fell again.
Laila's eyes shifted, deep in thought. She came to a conclusion. "We'll be his Amazons," she said finally.
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y blinked away her digital tears. "Are you sure?" She asked softly. "You've suffered so much..."
Jada leaned off the doors and gave her a gentle smile. "We'll be alright. We've always had, always will."
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y sniffed, her digital expression warming. "I wish my creator could move on. Everything he does—is because of his guilt."
"Then tell us," Laila said, her curiosity piqued. "What's he's guilty about?"
The Ai shook her digital head, her smile returning, though her eyes bore a hint of sadness.. "I can't. It's too painful....I was programmed not to. He'll tell you one day."
"How? He's not even here," Ciema pointed out.
"He is, " T.I.F.F.A.N.Y replied quietly, her voice losing her cheerfulness. "Just doesn't want to be seen. When you're training's complete.....he'll tell you everything."
Jada wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Who wants pizza?" She said, trying to lift the mood.
Laila and Ciema laughed.
"Okay. T.I.F.F.A.N.Y," Laila grinned. "Three large peperoni pizzas."
"I prefer chicken," Ciema cut in/
"Fine," Laila rolled her eye. "Two pepperonis and one chicken. Sprite."
"You got it!" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. chirped, her voice bubbly again. After a beat, she added:
"Pizza in thirty."
Jada drank the soda, letting a out a sigh. "Nothing like pizza to lift my spirits," Jada beamed. The scratching at the door caught the women's attention. It was followed by obnoxious whining.
Heading towards it, Jada opens and her smile broadens at the sight.
"Come in, fella," she said, widening the door. The Pomchi squeezed her body in, wagging her tail furiously. She closed the door and skipped over to the pet, her furry friend following.
"Look who wanted to hang out," she laughed, picking up the dog. She sat down on the couch and rubbed her nose with the dog's. The Pomchi wagged her tail, barking happily.
"Oh no," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y groaned. "She likes you, That spawn of evil likes you."
Chi-Chi turned and barked at the AI.
"Yeah, yeah," The AI sighed. "Hate you too."
The women laughed.
Mr. Mace soon walked in, pushing a cart. It was adorned with covered plates of food. Jada set the dog down and picks up her slice.
"I see you're eating well," he said, smiling. He stopped right at the pit. "Yeah," Jada chewed.
"I hope you're still hungry," he grunted as he lifted each plate and set it down on the glass table at the center.
The women eagerly whip off the covers and gasp at the sight. Sliced chicken, smothered in thyme were placed against bubbling mac and cheese. Red beans and a dash of salad completed the dish.
"Yummy," Jada licked her lips as she picked up her fork. "You made this?" Ciema questioned, sitting forward. "No, my dear," he humbly replied. "His personal chief did."
Laila glanced up at him. "I thought it was only you and the chauffeur," she said.
"It is. His personal chief stays at another building," he explained. "It's delivered here—pipping hot."
Jada ate first and practically squealed. "So good."
"Mr. Mace. Are we the first Amazons?" Ciema asked, leaning forward.
"Nope," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. cut in. "You are Gen X. Each Amazon generation is active for three years," Mr. Mace elaborated.
The women paused in their eating, the attention fully captured.
"There was Gen I—"
"The best," The AI interrupted.
"Then Gen II—"
"Meh, they were okay. A bit...forgettable."
"Gen III came after..." Mr. Mace looked up at her, a playful smile on his face.
"Ugh. They were the worst!" She blew a raspberry.
The girls chuckled, finding the AI's reactions amusing.
"And then there was Gen IV," Mr. Mace said with a fond smile.
"The biggest, the coolest, the most awesome!" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. said, dramatically. "Ichika Fukuda, Harper Jones and Clementine Smith. I will never, ever, forget them."
"They were the best Jaiden's ever had," Mr. Mace nodded. "They were active from 2022...to spring of 2023."
Ciema frowned. "That's not even a full year. They had two more years."
"Yes," He said quietly, his gaze distant. "But...something happened. You'll have to ask Jaiden." With a small bow, he exited, the cart rolling behind him. The heavy door clicked shut, leaving the three women in suddenly charged silence. The girls exchanged glances.
"What exactly happened to Gen IV?" Laila asked. "Like he said—you'll have to ask Jaiden," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. replied. "I gotta go. Bye!"
The screen blinked off.
Silence.
"Well....let's not let this food grow cold," Jada said, digging in. Laila followed but Ciema didn't She sat there, her eyes narrowing.
There were too many questions.
And no answers.