“I didn’t know it was so bad,” Amy said. “I really didn’t. I swear. I just couldn’t stop myself.”
“I know,” the guard said. “I used to work corrections before I got this job, and that’s what kids in your situation always say, organic or synthetic.”
Amy hugged her knees. She supposed organic kids wanted to curl up in a little ball in this situation, too. “There won’t be a trial, or anything?”
“Of a kind. Tests, probably. Lots of tests.”
“Tests?” That was something. She had to be alive, if there were going to be tests. “I get to live?”
He looked her up and down. “Part of you does, I guess.”
Amy pinched the skin of her arms. If you couldn’t brag in the brig, where could you? “I’ve got fractal design memory in here. Even if I’m cut up, my body remembers how to repair itself perfectly. I’ll come back in one piece, no matter what.”
“Oh believe me, dollface, I know. I’ve seen it happen. You put some vN shrapnel in the right culture, and it grows right back. Like cancer.” He snorted. “But whether what grows back is actually you? With all the memories, and all the adaptations? That’s like asking how many angels can dance on the head of a pin.”
Amy imagined her skin sliced thin as ham, suspended in the shadowy clouds of vN growth medium. Maybe she wouldn’t even miss her mom and dad. Never once seeing their faces or hearing their voices or feeling their arms around her would probably hurt a lot less, if she were smashed into a million pieces.
Wow, so where do i read the rest of this?
You’ll be able to see it soon! It’s part of my thesis, the final copy of which I turn in tomorrow. (Squee!) Also, you may see me blogging some more about it, soon. ^.-
Cool! I’ll subscribe to your feed to make sure i get to read it.