Cassandra Kresnov 04: 23 Years on Fire by Joel Shepherd

point. It doesn’t bother me at all.” Vanessa frowned a little. “I mean, I think about them now, and truly, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass.”
    “Well that’s good then,” said Vanessa, switching the machine over so she could do reps with her arms.
    “I don’t know. I began life not caring, because all GIs start off as drones, like I said. Then I realised I did care, but couldn’t do anything about it. Then I realised the League sucked, and I could do something about it, so I did. I just . . . I just got used to the idea that my guilt, or conscience, or whatever you want to call it, was a sign of my evolution as a person. And now, I go cut a swathe through Anjula’s finest, and I just don’t care. And it’s not just the tape, I’m sure of it.”
    “So you’re scared that you’re turning back into a version of what you were when you were younger, in the League?”
    Sandy sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “Because your boyfriend left you?” It was one of Vanessa’s familiar, sharp little underhanded jabs.
    Sandy’s lips twisted. “Yeah. I guess.”
    “Look.” Vanessa hooked her arms over the machine’s handles. “It’s tough for you right now, I know. And not just with Ari, that’s bullshit—with all these other GIs pouring down on you from the League the past few years. You feel responsible, you worry about them, there’s all the legal and political shit. And you’re worried about how it’s all going to turn out. I don’t just mean facts on the ground, I mean more broadly.”
    “Yeah.”
    “I mean, I’m a straight, organic human. All the literature’s been pretty much written on me and my kind. But you guys . . . Sandy, you ever just think that however you turn out, that’s what you’re meant to be? Maybe it’s time to stop worrying about what you ought to try and become, and just accept what you are.”
    “Vanessa, you know better than anyone. There’s a whole bunch of things about what I am that I don’t like.”
    “So let me tell you this—there’s a whole bunch of things about what you are that I absolutely love. And I don’t just mean as your friend, I mean in general. As qualities everyone could learn from. As improvements to our species.”
    “Including Anjula.” Drily.
    “Including Anjula,” Vanessa declared, with a very firm nod. “Yes. Absolutely including Anjula. Someone has to do it, Sandy. Be proud of it. And fuck lots of guys, and continue to like too many different brands of coffee, and be addicted to surfing like a junkie, and just be what you are, and stop fucking worrying about it.”
    Vanessa tossed the towel back at Sandy, who could have caught it, but let it catch her in the face instead. Vanessa glared at her, then settled back down to do her reps. Sandy watched her. Nearly three hundred kilos, with the arms of a girl who, unaugmented, would probably struggle to do forty.
    “So, how does the upgrade feel?” Sandy asked her.
    “Awesome,” said Vanessa, with real pleasure. “The tech’s incredible. It’s not so much the extra strength, it’s the speed and endurance. I nearly got a mid-des GI’s score on the last combat course I did.”
    “I know,” said Sandy. “I’d say you were eighty percent what I’d expect a mid-des like Khan to do.”
    “And I’ve gotten faster since then, too,” Vanessa said smugly.
    “Only your command skills are so much better.” Sandy was relieved about that. It kept Vanessa further to the rear. Plus, there was something faintly unnerving about watching Vanessa’s transformation, and her pleasure at its results. “Exactly what are you trying to become, Ricey? And are you aware what it’s going to cost? “They haven’t found an upgrade for command yet.”
    “Nor wisdom, nor humour, nor good sexual technique. But I’m sure they’re working on it.”
    The trip took two weeks. Vanessa wanted to go home to her husband. Rhian wanted to go home to her husband and her three adopted kids. Han, Weller