Prying open the junction box on the gallery roof, Jeffrey checked, double checked and triple checked the jumble of cables within before clipping a dozen of them. He was a perfectionist, the only way to avoid prison as an art thief. Some of the pieces he stole were worth millions, and the security reflected it. But he was confident he’d cut every wire. The security system could send all the alarms it liked to the outside world but they’d never get reach beyond this junction box.
He crowbarred open the fire escape and sauntered down the gallery corridors. He’d scoped out the guard’s schedule and knew it’d be an hour before this wing was patrolled again. Plenty of time to swipe the Picasso. Silent alarms rang as he approached the painting but, as long as they were silent, he smugly sauntered through the laser trip lines.
As he reached for the painting, a hatch slid open in the wall, extruding a nozzle. The words Nanite Encapsulator 5000 was stenciled on the side. He had just enough time to raise his hand before a focused blast of liquid fired from it, hitting hard enough to send him stumbling back.
Jeffrey stared at his arm in horror. It was frozen, coated in undulating liquid metal that was squirming up to his shoulder like something alive, consuming his clothing as it went. The cold, living liquid poured down his chest and up his neck. He pinched his lips shut but a metallic taste entered his mouth as it forced its way inside, filling his insides. He felt his nose, his ears, even his eyes being similarly invaded. He felt he should be unable to breath, see or hear, but somehow the liquid was taking care of that.
Similarly the wave of metal consumed his pants and thief tools as it ventured south, a thick tendril of it forcing its way inside his ass, squirming up his intestinal tract to paint his insides.
“Bmphhh!” Jeffrey gurgled through the liquid congealing within his lungs. Desperately he tried to crawl for the exit but the metal was hardening. Robotic arms gripped his encased form, lifting and depositing him on a pedestal.
Neon green computer text filled his vision.
[Nanite Encapsulator coming online…]
[Target immobility at…97%...98%...]
[O2 transmission nanites coming online. O2 saturation at 100%]
[Target immobility at 99%... Target fully immobilized]
[Waste reprocessing nanites coming online… metabolic support nanites coming online… metabolic support battery estimate - 487 years 3 months 3 days 23 hours 9 minutes 9 seconds]
[Informing law enforcement agencies of apprehension… Transmission failed… Retrying… Transmission failed... Retrying...]
[Adopting aesthetically appropriate containment template… searching database… template selected - “Eve Hearing the Voice" by Moses J. Ezekiel (1904)... Enforcing template…]
There came a crack from Jeffrey’s ribs as the metal contracted about his waist, forcing the last air from his nanite-coated lungs as a pained groan, his final breath. He felt the nanite liquid rippling over him… crawling inside his flesh… twisting his insides around… resculpting him. His body reshaped like hot candle wax as a pair of budding breasts were pushed out from within, his thighs plumping, his hips cracking and forcefully stretched apart from inside. The cartilage inside his face crunched and snapped into a frozen female mask. An irresistible pressure began to build on his cock and suddenly he felt the resistance give as it was forced up and inside him, the nanites sculpting a delicate vagina between his thick thighs in its place.
[Template Enforced… Updating gallery catalog. “Eve Hearing the Voice" by Moses J. Ezekiel (1904) added to gallery catalog.]
[Recording Template - Intruder #001. Transmitting Intruder #001 template to law enforcement agencies for reversion following incarceration… Transmission failed… Retrying… Transmission failed… Retrying…]
The remodeling nanites completed their work, sealing into an inert, impenetrable copper skin just as the door to the wing opened. A guard stepped in, swinging his torch from side to side. The beam came to rest on Jeffrey, glittering off his broad, metallic backside. The guard paced slowly towards him, his gaze surveying the assets of the new item on display.
Had that been there on his last patrol? He shrugged. Surely it had. His torch swung away.
“I’m right here!” Jeffrey screamed, his voice echoing within the metal skin. “You caught me! You win! Arrest me! Let me out! Let me out!”
The guard searched the entire wing. He could find no reason for the triggered alarms and so disabled them, neglecting to inform the next shift, and forgetting all about the event by the time he got home.
The unexpected appearance of the item was noted as strange by the gallery curator, but she was a busy woman, items were bought and sold faster than she could keep track of, and a search of the catalog confirmed its ownership. Unsure of what to do with the piece, it was placed in storage for thirty years before finally being sold into private hands.
The Encapsulator never managed to contact the police. Its messages never got further than the junction box, its transmission nanites trying and retrying, their batteries depleted days before the sabotage was found and repaired.
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