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Machine Man - Max Barry [31]

By Root 290 0
Thirteen months. They throw out their old phone, which they loved, because there’s something newer. Sexier. That’s the other thing. They’ve seen your legs. They think there’s a certain … a certain aesthetic to them. You haven’t tried to imitate real legs. That’s the difference. You’ve made something else. Something that stands alone. Oh. I didn’t mean that. I mean it’s a little like art. It’s a paradigm shift. Because regular prosthetics, and I hope this isn’t offensive, but they look a little creepy. A little dead. So the thought is—and this is all long-term, but it’s the thinking—what if Better Parts can be fashion accessories? Is that impossible? Maybe someone would buy an artificial tooth just because it looked better. Or an artificial ear. If we sponsored some athletes, some of those … some Paralympians, they could become objects of desire. They’re fit, they’re functional, they’re here. They’re the future. Marketing pointed out that we already pierce our bodies in the name of fashion. We physically insert metal into our earlobes, and lips, now, and chins, and who knows what else. You’ve seen those kids. That’s the area they’re looking at. Wearable accessories. Higher-functioning, supersexy cyberbodies. What you’ve helped the company realize, Charlie, is that there’s a marketplace under our noses. Literally. Literally under and inside our noses. Inside us. And we as a company are uniquely placed to be first to market. That’s why you’re getting resourced. Does that help you understand?”

I thought for a while. “A little.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome.”


CASSANDRA CAUTERY walked beside me as Carl wheeled me to the labs. I thought they would take me to the Glass Room but they turned left, for Lab 4. Several young people who I gathered were my new assistants lined the corridor. As Carl pushed past them, I discovered the reason they were outside Lab 4 was that there was no room inside. It was wall-to-wall white coats. Except in the center, where my legs stood under lights. They had been polished. They were beautiful. Cassandra Cautery had been right about that. I was a little surprised anyone else saw it, because they were beautiful only in a functional sense: beautiful because they worked. Bundles of plastic-wrapped wires as thick as my wrist snaked between bare steel struts and around oiled coil pistons. Black electrical tape strapped the computer housing on to the hip. The calves bent backward, like a gazelle’s. The feet were globe-encased rotary engines with one long toe pointing forward and two angled back.

People were clapping. “You’re my idol,” said Jason. I hadn’t even noticed him.

“What?” I said. I thought I must have misheard idol.

“You and Isaac Newton. And Barry Marshall. And the Curies. You people who are prepared to put yourselves on the line for your science. To become your own test subjects. I salute you.”

Carl wheeled me toward the legs.

“Compared to you, Kevin Warwick is a pussy!” said Jason. “He should be embarrassed with himself!”

Carl lifted me into the air as if I were a child. He carried me to the legs like he was rescuing me from a burning building. “This okay?” he said, and I said, “Yes,” and he lowered me into the sockets. I grimaced as my wounded left leg scraped plastic. Then my butt touched the seat and it was okay. I didn’t have to stand in these legs; I sat. I relaxed. My hands moved down to the hips. There were controls there. My thumbs found the ignition buttons and pressed. My motors were extremely quiet, for their power output. But that was not that quiet. My legs rose up on their toes, flexed, settled.

My audience cheered and whooped. Cassandra Cautery’s eyes shone. I grinned. The applause went on and on. It was at once great and terrifying. I wanted them to leave so I could play with my legs in private but I also wanted them to stay forever.


I THUMBED the left leg forward. It rose and extended and clomped down. The floor went crack. I hoped that was the floor. Either way could be an issue. I thumbed the right and took a matching step. The motion rocked my body back then forward

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