Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [11]
The Extro slowed its spin and descended until it once again hovered near her face.
She peered closely again, trying to determine where the vocal projection originated. From underneath one of the head flaps, she decided. There was probably a small echo canal linked to a nano-speaker in the Identity mound. After all, cephalopods did not speak.
‘While Wanton-poda is not permitted to discuss the immediate details of your presence here, it is allowed to speak of the worlds.’
‘It is difficult for me to have a discussion with Wanton-poda if I cannot use the interrogative form. It is logical for my species to ask questions.’
It went into its more gentle thinking spin.
She waited.
When it settled she noticed its translucent flesh had taken on a pearl-grey colour. ‘Wanton-poda will attempt to make species exception to the interrogative if Mira-fedor will be more contented.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘I will try, if you will try. Perhaps ... I should tell you . . . what I know of your...culture, then you can advise me if I am ... misinformed.’ The words came slowly despite her mind being clearer. It still seemed hard to speak fluently, as though her throat had rusted. She squeezed the last drops from the water tube and let the liquid sit in her mouth. Suddenly she longed for a steam bath and a mouth wash.
‘I have heard that the first generation of your culture chose to live in virtual worlds without corporeal. . . attachment. That is, without bodies. But in the next generation there were divisions in belief. Things changed, and now your society has deviated towards the use of host bodies.’ Mira found herself breathing heavily at the end of such a long speech.
Without warning Wanton-poda floated off to retrieve another water tube and a small container holding a cube of food.
She pinched off a small piece of the spicy, soft cube and put it in her mouth. As it dissolved it left an aftertaste of meat.
‘It seems that Mira-fedor has a rudimentary understanding. However, Wanton-poda would not call the use of host bodies a deviation, merely a choice.’
Mira thought for a moment. The creature was not straightforward in the way it expressed itself. She needed to ask the right kind of questions. ‘So others of your kind choose differently?’
The pearl-grey colour darkened to almost charcoal with her first direct question, but the cephalopod did not scream. ‘Post-Species offers many choices. Mira-fedor is correct in some ways. You are correct in some ways. After the first generation, some of the Post-Species longed for some physiological reconnection. Wanton-poda’s family is among them. Not all shared this desire, and preferred to remain within I context.’
‘I context. Is that machine-based?’
Its flesh darkened with agitation again. ‘That is a primitive analogy to how they exist and not accurate.’
‘So your society is divided into corporeal and non-corporeal?’
‘Again, Mira-fedor oversimplifies.’
‘Forgive me, Wanton-poda, but I am trying to find my own context.’
‘Let us call my family “host” then.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Host family has varied subsidiary families.’
‘Using different species as hosts?’
‘A correct summation. There is even a small branch that still favours the basic biped form.’
Mira paused. ‘You mean that some Post-Species have chosen to reinhabit bipedal bodies?’
‘A correct summation.’
‘But that seems ridiculous.’
‘Our information sharing does not require your evaluation.’
Mira closed her mouth and swallowed. She’d offended the Extro again. ‘P-pardon . . . it’s just that. . . I thought you pursued this line of evolution precisely to leave physical encumbrance behind?’
‘We became Post-Species to increase choice. For some, that means a nostalgic connection with the past.’
‘And for others that means living in a machine.’
Wanton-poda uttered an odd reverberation that Mira interpreted as frustration.
‘Machine implies large metallic casings. Non-corporeal Post-Species reside in a far more sophisticated environment.’
‘My experience and imagination are limited,’ said