Date
Posted:
07.17.1997
Date:
12.07.2195
Time:
Unknown
Rebirth.
Metal legs felt no pain as he speed over a wasteland of glass and concrete.
Towers of glass and steel, monuments to man and machine, towered above.
Rain seemed to pour from the sky. Men stayed indoors,
away from the toxic flood. But what of those who are
more than man? Aran leapt into the
air and cleared a metal fence. As he landed, his legs shattered concrete
below. One eye remained in the world of realspace, one concentrated
on the hud map showing his current position. Finally, slowing only
slightly, Aran jumped through a glass window.
"Aran?" The voice was older, but still recognizeable.
"Doc." Aran stood up.
"Dear God." The old man walked away from his table, staring
at Aran. "Cuastic burns, metal fragmentation, cybernetic
destruction on a scale I've never seen. You...you were in?
Weren't you? When cyberspace fell, you where in it.?!"
"Yes."
"And you lived!? Get on the table! Now!
We might not have much time."
Aran felt the impulses of electricity that shut his brain down, anesthetic
having no effect on cybernetic beings.
He stood in the midst of a group of doctors.
"You understand what this operation will do?" One asked.
"Yes."
"That you will be giving up almost three quarters of your flesh for
genetic, cybernetic and robotic implants."
"Yes."
"The operation takes seven days."
"Yes."
"The pain, the pain kills over 40% of those who undergo the surgery."
"Do it."
"There are other risks."
"DO IT!" Aran yelled. 13 years old, barely capable
of navigating the realm of cyberspace. He had encountered
a group of people, kindred spirits, people who told him about their way
of life, their being. Who they were. "Make me a Technomancer."
For eight days and eight nights he was awake, floating in a sea of pain
and suffering. While his flesh and bone were stripped
and replaced. He could almost feel his humanity slipping away.
Each new device was a flood of pain, his brain absorbing all the information
of how it worked, how it operated, how to react to it.
Every new adjustment, every genetic alteration bringing new pain to his
life. Until, finally, when all the world seemed to crush into his
very heart and mind.
"It's over. You can wake up Aran."
The voice sighed. He was tired.
Aran checked his internal clock. Elapsed downtime, 76 hours.
He stood up and felt concrete beneath synthetic flesh.
In the mirror was the man he remembered, all the bare chrome and tecnology
hidden beneath leves of psuedo-humanity.
"I had to replace most of everything. You're sporting three
new limbs. You're kidney had to be replaced totally, and most
of the localized organs dealing with poison filtration and digestion.
Went off the deep end for a while, kid?"
"Yes."
"You're ready. I don't know what you're doing,
or why. I don't ask questions. But be carefull kid."
"I'll transfer money to your account when I'm finished.
If not, my lawyer knows of your service, tell him. He'll sort
it out."
"This about your AI? I know it's gone.
Pulled clean out, no trace. Like it jettisoned itself."
"It did. It also told me where it was being taken."
Aran slid his mirroshades up into their socket. "But not why."
"Kid, I put something in your software banks: A firewall.
Something I've been working on. I don't know how it will
hold up against any kind of frontal assualt, but maybe it can keep what
happened from happening again, or at least dampen it. Might
give you a chance."
"Thank you." Aran pulled his trenchcoat on. "But you
would've been better giving it to the Glitch who crashed cyberspace."
"Why?!"
"Cause I'm gonna brainfry him. Flatline." Aran growled.
This time he left through the door, the rain stopped to a trickle.
Now he could hail a cab without scaring anyone to death. He
had 200 miles to travel, and a piece of himself to regain.
As he passed a door, he felt a wave of deja-vu, like walking into his home.
Scan, all bio-readings. Aran stared at the door.
Nothing but a pulse shielding, and some ir markings. Witches.
Nothing else. Aran continued into the night. |