could help him. He's having trouble with his computer." said Cass. "I was told you were good with computers."
Chapter 10
"Have you tried rebooting?" asked Fed. He couldn't imagine what this beast would use a computer for.
"I don't want to lose my data" explained Marcus. His voice was deep, but not unusually so, and the slight lisp his lack of lips gave him was hardly noticeable. "I'm running a metabolic simulation over some new work I'd like your brother to do, and I think I may be suffering from insufficient RAM."
Fede stared upwards at Marcus. Something in the back of his head reminded him that time was passing. "You what?" he asked, dumbly.
Marcus glanced at Cass, then back at Fed. "A metabolic simulation. Most of my mods involve increased mass, and the metabolism required to support it requires some pretty tricky calculations. If I put on too much weight I could overload my heart. It's Swiss, but it's still just a heart."
Fede realized he was acting like an idiot. "Can I see your machine?" he asked.
"Sure" said Marcus. "Come on in. Park your bike on the sidewalk and we'll secure it from inside."
They walked into the house through the doorway, Marcus stepping sideways to get through the frame. Inside was a large living room lined with couches, a series of colorful throw rugs giving the place the feel of an Afghani restaurant. Marcus yelled upstairs to someone, and a man's voice called back that the bike was taken care of. Marcus led them through the living room past a dining room whose walls were covered in posters of transhumanists and bodmodders of all stripes. One of the posters prominently placed at the head of the table was of Marcus, his arms held aloft in the middle of a huge metal cage. His head and upper body were coated in blood. The picture was foreshortened and Fede couldn't make out what was lying on the mat behind him. "I still say I owe that one to you guys" Marcus said to Cass, seeing the poster catch Fed's eye.
"Don't be silly" replied Cass. "You trained hard for that and you deserved it. I'm just glad we got to take part."
"Your brother designed the tetrahydroxide combines which allowed me to survive that fight" said Marcus to Fed. He led them into a cozy kitchen and gestured at the oversized bar stools which surrounded the raised table.
"Please excuse the furniture" he said. "Tea or coffee?"
Fede began to get the feeling that he should be asking about a rabbit hole. "What's tetrahedroxide?" he asked.
"Tea please, Marcus" said Cass as she looked demurely at the wallpaper.
"Tetrahedroxide is an amine that can only be processed in combination with an over-oxygenated blood supply. My particular physiology allows me to metabolize a large amount of it quickly without having to worry about toxic shock." He thumped his oversized chest and leaned his head conspiratorially towards Fed. "Oversized lungs. More of your brother's work."
He leaned back. "Cassandra here authored the theory and worked with your brother to create an implant that would allow me to ingest it in a fight without having to worry about my liver falling out. They designed it to respond to the anaerobic wastes accumulated when fatigue sets in. Most fighters' mixers aren't so clever by half, and end up wasted mid-way through the second round. Because of them I was able to stage a massive comeback in the third round and tear Tichowsky apart!"
Fede had no doubt. Marcus turned and began to pull tiny teacups from the cupboard and place them on a battered black wooden tray.
"Cassandra?" he whispered at Cass across the table.
"Say it again and I'll pull your guts out your navel" she whispered back sweetly.
He was about to say more when Marcus placed the tray on the table. He followed it with milk and sugar in slightly chipped cups before going back to the stove. Instead he turned to Cass and asked, "Why'd you call me Feed?"
"That's what Mil calls you" said Cass "and I think it's cute."
"That doesn't make any sense" Fede said. "My
Chapter 10
"Have you tried rebooting?" asked Fed. He couldn't imagine what this beast would use a computer for.
"I don't want to lose my data" explained Marcus. His voice was deep, but not unusually so, and the slight lisp his lack of lips gave him was hardly noticeable. "I'm running a metabolic simulation over some new work I'd like your brother to do, and I think I may be suffering from insufficient RAM."
Fede stared upwards at Marcus. Something in the back of his head reminded him that time was passing. "You what?" he asked, dumbly.
Marcus glanced at Cass, then back at Fed. "A metabolic simulation. Most of my mods involve increased mass, and the metabolism required to support it requires some pretty tricky calculations. If I put on too much weight I could overload my heart. It's Swiss, but it's still just a heart."
Fede realized he was acting like an idiot. "Can I see your machine?" he asked.
"Sure" said Marcus. "Come on in. Park your bike on the sidewalk and we'll secure it from inside."
They walked into the house through the doorway, Marcus stepping sideways to get through the frame. Inside was a large living room lined with couches, a series of colorful throw rugs giving the place the feel of an Afghani restaurant. Marcus yelled upstairs to someone, and a man's voice called back that the bike was taken care of. Marcus led them through the living room past a dining room whose walls were covered in posters of transhumanists and bodmodders of all stripes. One of the posters prominently placed at the head of the table was of Marcus, his arms held aloft in the middle of a huge metal cage. His head and upper body were coated in blood. The picture was foreshortened and Fede couldn't make out what was lying on the mat behind him. "I still say I owe that one to you guys" Marcus said to Cass, seeing the poster catch Fed's eye.
"Don't be silly" replied Cass. "You trained hard for that and you deserved it. I'm just glad we got to take part."
"Your brother designed the tetrahydroxide combines which allowed me to survive that fight" said Marcus to Fed. He led them into a cozy kitchen and gestured at the oversized bar stools which surrounded the raised table.
"Please excuse the furniture" he said. "Tea or coffee?"
Fede began to get the feeling that he should be asking about a rabbit hole. "What's tetrahedroxide?" he asked.
"Tea please, Marcus" said Cass as she looked demurely at the wallpaper.
"Tetrahedroxide is an amine that can only be processed in combination with an over-oxygenated blood supply. My particular physiology allows me to metabolize a large amount of it quickly without having to worry about toxic shock." He thumped his oversized chest and leaned his head conspiratorially towards Fed. "Oversized lungs. More of your brother's work."
He leaned back. "Cassandra here authored the theory and worked with your brother to create an implant that would allow me to ingest it in a fight without having to worry about my liver falling out. They designed it to respond to the anaerobic wastes accumulated when fatigue sets in. Most fighters' mixers aren't so clever by half, and end up wasted mid-way through the second round. Because of them I was able to stage a massive comeback in the third round and tear Tichowsky apart!"
Fede had no doubt. Marcus turned and began to pull tiny teacups from the cupboard and place them on a battered black wooden tray.
"Cassandra?" he whispered at Cass across the table.
"Say it again and I'll pull your guts out your navel" she whispered back sweetly.
He was about to say more when Marcus placed the tray on the table. He followed it with milk and sugar in slightly chipped cups before going back to the stove. Instead he turned to Cass and asked, "Why'd you call me Feed?"
"That's what Mil calls you" said Cass "and I think it's cute."
"That doesn't make any sense" Fede said. "My
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