was thick and warm and red.
"I almost got him. I almost got to kill Arish."
"Arish is good. You couldn’t have killed him."
"I almost did," I said.
"You couldn’t have killed him. He was made for the
job. Genetic upgrades. He only led you along, letting you believe
you could," the skeleton said. We both remained silent for a
moment. "I’m going to die, Angelo. I told you that if you balled me
over, I’d die. You did ball me over?"
"Yes," I said, "perhaps in more ways than one. When
we operated on you, we took a retina scan. A hacker checked your
government files."
"They would have waited for something like that," the
skeleton said. "It was enough to get me killed."
"Also," I admitted, "I gave you AB stimulators before
we figured out that you were a brain transplant. You are one,
aren’t you?"
She nodded.
"Then, you are in danger."
"I’m dead," the skeleton corrected. Its bones grew
thin and began snapping like dry twigs. I tried to think of
something comforting to say, but couldn’t. The skeleton saw my
distress, and laughed. "Leave me. I’m not afraid to die."
"Everyone’s afraid to die," I said.
Wind whipped the sand, blowing it against me. Out in
the water, leviathan, large dark formless creatures with eyes on
humps, lifted up to watch us. A gleaming tentacle slithered high in
the air, then splashed back beneath the waves. The creatures sank
back beneath the water, and I could feel the push Tamara had to
give to make them stay. Tamara controlled her dream, but only in
the half-hearted way of masochists and those who despair.
The skeleton said, "That’s because they don’t
practice. Dying. They’re so afraid of fraying into oblivion, their
muscles’ fibers unknitting, the slow settling of fluids from the
body."
"And you’re not?"
"No," the skeleton said. "I do it over and over
again." With those words, the flesh reappeared on the red-haired
woman. The crabs began feeding on her. She didn’t flinch.
"Why did Flaco die?" I asked.
She held her breath a moment, and released it slowly.
I didn’t think she’d tell me. "I guess I owe you that," she said at
last. "My husband, General Amir Jafari, wants my brain in a brain
bag and my body in stasis."
"Why?"
"I was in Intelligence. I committed an indiscretion."
She paused again, weighing her words. "I was at a party with other
officers’ wives, and they were talking about a politician who’d
been assassinated. I’d had too much to drink, and by the way they
talked, I assumed they all knew we’d made the hit, and I said some
things I shouldn’t have. Among the Alliance such indiscretions get
one killed. My husband got my sentence commuted to life in a brain
bag—but life in a brain bag isn’t life."
I remembered the empty, simulated voice of the
general saying ‘I’m not inhuman,’ as if to convince himself. Out in
the water, the dead bull struggled to its feet and snorted, then
was bowled over by a wave.
"I don’t understand. Why did he want your body in
stasis?" A cold wind blew; a thin crust of ice appeared on the
beach.
"I don’t know," she said. "Maybe he thinks he’ll get
to screw it when he gets out of the service. Once I caught wind of
his plan, I didn’t stick around to find out. I knew my only chance
of escape would be to dump my old body, so I bought one on the
black market and dismantled my brain bag. I thought as long as I
had that crystal, could hold it in my hand and see it, I would know
I wasn’t in the brain bag. I had the cryotechs put a German
shepherd’s brain in my old body and sent it to my husband, naked,
in a cage. I put a sign around its neck that said: ‘If All You Want
is Sex and Faithfulness, I’m Yours.’" She seemed very pleased by
the memory.
"Your husband called me on comlink. He offered to pay
me to turn you in. He seemed concerned about you, I think. It’s
hard to tell."
"Don’t let him fool you," she said. "He’s one of the
dead, the living dead. His capacity for emotion was tossed
"I almost got him. I almost got to kill Arish."
"Arish is good. You couldn’t have killed him."
"I almost did," I said.
"You couldn’t have killed him. He was made for the
job. Genetic upgrades. He only led you along, letting you believe
you could," the skeleton said. We both remained silent for a
moment. "I’m going to die, Angelo. I told you that if you balled me
over, I’d die. You did ball me over?"
"Yes," I said, "perhaps in more ways than one. When
we operated on you, we took a retina scan. A hacker checked your
government files."
"They would have waited for something like that," the
skeleton said. "It was enough to get me killed."
"Also," I admitted, "I gave you AB stimulators before
we figured out that you were a brain transplant. You are one,
aren’t you?"
She nodded.
"Then, you are in danger."
"I’m dead," the skeleton corrected. Its bones grew
thin and began snapping like dry twigs. I tried to think of
something comforting to say, but couldn’t. The skeleton saw my
distress, and laughed. "Leave me. I’m not afraid to die."
"Everyone’s afraid to die," I said.
Wind whipped the sand, blowing it against me. Out in
the water, leviathan, large dark formless creatures with eyes on
humps, lifted up to watch us. A gleaming tentacle slithered high in
the air, then splashed back beneath the waves. The creatures sank
back beneath the water, and I could feel the push Tamara had to
give to make them stay. Tamara controlled her dream, but only in
the half-hearted way of masochists and those who despair.
The skeleton said, "That’s because they don’t
practice. Dying. They’re so afraid of fraying into oblivion, their
muscles’ fibers unknitting, the slow settling of fluids from the
body."
"And you’re not?"
"No," the skeleton said. "I do it over and over
again." With those words, the flesh reappeared on the red-haired
woman. The crabs began feeding on her. She didn’t flinch.
"Why did Flaco die?" I asked.
She held her breath a moment, and released it slowly.
I didn’t think she’d tell me. "I guess I owe you that," she said at
last. "My husband, General Amir Jafari, wants my brain in a brain
bag and my body in stasis."
"Why?"
"I was in Intelligence. I committed an indiscretion."
She paused again, weighing her words. "I was at a party with other
officers’ wives, and they were talking about a politician who’d
been assassinated. I’d had too much to drink, and by the way they
talked, I assumed they all knew we’d made the hit, and I said some
things I shouldn’t have. Among the Alliance such indiscretions get
one killed. My husband got my sentence commuted to life in a brain
bag—but life in a brain bag isn’t life."
I remembered the empty, simulated voice of the
general saying ‘I’m not inhuman,’ as if to convince himself. Out in
the water, the dead bull struggled to its feet and snorted, then
was bowled over by a wave.
"I don’t understand. Why did he want your body in
stasis?" A cold wind blew; a thin crust of ice appeared on the
beach.
"I don’t know," she said. "Maybe he thinks he’ll get
to screw it when he gets out of the service. Once I caught wind of
his plan, I didn’t stick around to find out. I knew my only chance
of escape would be to dump my old body, so I bought one on the
black market and dismantled my brain bag. I thought as long as I
had that crystal, could hold it in my hand and see it, I would know
I wasn’t in the brain bag. I had the cryotechs put a German
shepherd’s brain in my old body and sent it to my husband, naked,
in a cage. I put a sign around its neck that said: ‘If All You Want
is Sex and Faithfulness, I’m Yours.’" She seemed very pleased by
the memory.
"Your husband called me on comlink. He offered to pay
me to turn you in. He seemed concerned about you, I think. It’s
hard to tell."
"Don’t let him fool you," she said. "He’s one of the
dead, the living dead. His capacity for emotion was tossed
Similar Books
