Start-up
Sequence
Jadzia
peered into the mirror,
starring back instead
of the beautiful young
woman that should
have been there was
a hideous assortment
of mechanical implants
and dying tissue.
Where once she had
soft pinky-white skin,
there was now a rough
pale grey covering
with blueish areas
where her veins were.
The
drive to improve oneself
had reached insane
proportions, no one;
well no one who could
afford it had any
bodily systems that
had not been improved
in some manner. Jadzia
herself had had her
limbs removed and
replaced with stronger
more adaptive arms
and legs. Her memory
was now completely
contained within a
removable mass storage
device (MSD). She
would never forget
anything; in essence
she had a photographic
memory. She did not
require any nourishment
in the usual sense
- Jadzia absorbed
energy through a node
in her alcove, which
was then altered into
the required states
by an implant, for
distribution throughout
her body.
Moving
away from the mirror
Jadzia felt disgusted
at what she had become,
unfortunately for
her, once an implant
was installed in to
her body there was
no way to remove it
without endangering
her life. As she headed
out of her room a
beam passed over her
- the implants made
showering impossible
and this was the only
way to clean yourself
these days. Having
taken all the nourishment
she required for the
day while she was
regenerating, Jadzia
headed for the exit
of her habitat. Unlike
the habitats of just
fifty years ago this
was a dreary place
- a standardised box,
there were no personal
possessions, these
were considered irrelevant
in the new order.
Stepping
out onto the street
Jadzia could see several
others, like herself,
heading for the transporter
station. Each had
implants throughout
their bodies and without
close inspection it
was impossible to
tell one person or
one gender from the
other. The humming
sound that many of
the implants made
created an annoying
din that Jadzia had
become accustomed
to. Like fifty years
ago no one every talked
but today even the
transfer of messages
between people was
uncommon.
Jadzia
had no friends, in
fact she could not
remember a time in
which she did. To
her it seemed an outdated
concept that a few,
mostly degenerate
people, still practised.
She only knew a few
peoples' names and
even then the database
contained mostly names
of important people
such as the president
or her superiors at
work.
As
she continued to walk
down the street towards
the station, Jadzia
glanced around at
the architecture of
the buildings that
surrounded her. Most
were modern entanglements
of steel and other
metals; few had windows
and in fact they reminded
her of some of the
circuit boards that
she had embedded in
her body. The door
automatically opened
as she approached
the station. Inside
it was not much changed
from when it was originally
built, it had an antique
look that most of
the city lacked. Jadzia
was grateful that
the transporting technology
had advanced to such
a level that, instead
of being a copy of
herself when she rematerialised
at the other end,
the matter that she
was comprised from
was sent with her
data pattern and thus
it was her original
self that arrived.
Jadzia
stepped onto the platform
that would take her
to work, the length
of time she was kept
waiting depended on
how many people were
travelling to the
same destination.
The city's main computer
would only initiate
transport when at
least one hundred
people were waiting.
This irritated Jadzia,
as she often found
herself walking to
work as her work place
was not on one of
the major routes which
were always crowded.
She suddenly felt
herself starting to
dematerialise and
soon she would arrive
at work.
Materialising
at the other end,
Jadzia continued on
her journey to work.
This took her through
one of the degenerate
areas of the city,
the buildings were
of an older style,
people laughed and
talked freely. Almost
no one had any mechanical
implants - a sign
of the poverty they
were living in. Jadzia
felt sorry for them,
it was unusual for
her to show emotions,
yet something about
the way in which these
people lived caused
her to. They never
approached Jadzia;
they were all to frightened
of her - and her implants.
Within
a few minutes she
had arrived at the
courthouse where she
worked. Unlike in
the past when courthouses
were usually in the
centre of towns, today
they were located
where the crime was.
It was supposed to
intimidate would-be
criminals. Jadzia
had her doubts on
whether it worked,
but it did not really
matter. There was
not much crime, but
what there was was
usually committed
by degenerates stealing
implant technology
for sale on the black
market. Sentences
for such an offence
were harsh - execution.
There were no appeals,
no retrials, all sentences
were final. Jadzia
had a gut feeling
that this should bother
her somehow, however
she never gave it
much thought.
Today
things were quiet,
there were no scheduled
trials, only a few
executions. Jadzia
had been to several
but in recent years
their appeal had waned.
So she decided that
she would spend her
day catching up on
the backlog of death
certificates she had
to fill out. The task
was simple enough
- call up the record
from the computer
and merge it with
a standard certificate,
Jadzia wondered why
they had not automated
the process, she could
see no reason why
a computer would not
be able to perform
the task - then again
she had nothing better
to do.
"The
time is twelve p.m.";
the office computer
always beeped out
the time, every hour
on the hour. To Jadzia
time had no meaning
any more, her days
were filled doing
the same task continuously.
Why anyone would need
a clock when they
had no schedule to
organise was a mystery
but perhaps there
were still some things
that required clocks
- degenerates for
example. She decided
this must be why they
still had a clock
in the office, it
would make more sense
to pre-sentence everyone
beforehand instead
of holding trials.
Nevertheless if you
were having trials
then you needed to
have times for them.
Jadzia when back to
filling out the forms,
every so often someone
would enter the office
to get something and
then leave, still,
no one spoke to her
and for the most part
she was alone.
Jadzia
felt a shock come
up from her lower
spinal column. Startled,
she got up and plugged
herself in to the
diagnostics console
at the opposite end
of the room. The diagnostic
confirmed what she
had suspected; the
implant which suppressed
her immune system
had failed. This on
its own was not a
major problem; it
would just have to
replaced. However,
the cost of such a
replacement was prohibitive
and Jadzia did not
have the credits to
paid for it. Without
it her immune system
would reassert itself
and start rejecting
the implants - since
she could not function
without them, the
condition was life
threatening.
This
conclusion produced
the first real emotion
Jadzia had felt since
she was a small child
- fear. She could
not understand why
she felt like this,
it had always been
made clear to her
before any of her
implants had been
installed that they
would eventually require
replacement. However
she had always put
off setting up an
insurance policy against
such an occurrence,
as she required the
money to improve herself
in other fashions.
It was only now that
she came to realise
how illogical it had
been to act in that
manner, but for Jadzia
the time for making
decisions had passed,
there was no room
for imperfect beings
in the new order.
Jadzia
felt giddy as she
watch her grey skin
start to regenerate,
the time in which
the grey cells were
shed for her body
was remarkable small.
Suddenly she could
not feel her legs
- the lengths she
had gone to get those
enhanced limbs did
not seem as worthwhile
as they had only minutes
ago. Jadzia wished
she had her original
body back, the one
she had been born
with - it appeared
a much more advanced
technology now. Jadzia
fell to the floor;
the electric shocks
she was receiving
from failing circuits
were overloading her
re-emerging nervous
system. As she uncontrollably
jerked about on the
floor, the price of
progress became apparent
to her but the advantage
she had gained in
her short existence
from technology meant
that she would never
blame it for her current
predicament. Finally
the connection between
her MSD and her brain
collapsed and Jadzia
when blank - she was
there but not there.
For a few moments
she continued to twitch
and then even that
ceased.
Part
Three - Collective
Notions
//agi.
[agi@fsmail.net]