The Aztechnology cybermancy clinic was a squat, three-story block fortress, hidden in the jungle of northern Panama. Only those with connections and nuyen to burn could afford the services provided by the clinic's doctors and mages. Most of that nuyen went into research, and much of that research was aimed at solving one problem. Getting the clinic's major owner and permanent resident into a functional human body.
Today, the clinic's board room was small and cozy, its rectangular shape just large enough to accommodate the centerpiece-an oval-shaped, fake cherrywood table surrounded by high-back synthleather chairs. Thomas Roxborough saw the room from the video cameras, his rig interface sculpting the input from the three cameras and the room's microphones into a seamless composite-a 360-degree sensory perception of the board room.
Roxborough had become used to seeing the world this way. For the past six years his body had been confined to a support tank-a vat of saline and enzymes upon which his physical existence depended, controlled by computers and constantly monitored by technicians. He was barely alive; his own immune system had nearly destroyed him. It had only been his wealth and determination that had let him survive for so long. His massive funding of Universal Omnitech, and his refusal to sit idle and die without a fight.
At the board room table were Meyer and Riese, sitting opposite each other as they waited for Roxborough. Meyer was the mage-an elf man with a long brown ponytail, brown eyes, and a typically arrogant disposition. But he was
the backbone of the cybermantic procedures, so Roxborough put up with his ego and insubordination.
Riese was the scientist-a short human woman of remarkable energy and intelligence. Roxborough actually liked her because she was usually pleasant, content as long as she could perform her research. Riese had a pretty, round face and brown hair that hung just below her ears.
Roxborough activated the holoprojector so that he would appear in the chair at the head of the table. The two hushed their discussion as Roxborough's holographic representation solidified. His simulacrum looked nothing like his old body, from long ago when he was a corporate raider, walking around in the real world. No, this was the image he'd been using since being locked into his vat-a human, young and handsome with blue eyes and curly brown hair. He might have looked that way in his twenties had he not been so addicted to the rich delicacies of a gourmet diet and the exquisite taste of tobacco.
"Hello," he said to the others.
"Good morning, Mr. Roxborough," they said.
Roxborough shuffled through some holographic papers. "Let's get down to business," he said. The papers were unnecessary, of course, but he found that it put others at ease. Made them more comfortable with his simulacrum. "I have spoken to the subject, and he seems to be reacting well to the treatment. Is this your prognosis as well, Riese?"
Riese brushed a hand through her mouse-brown hair. "Essentially, sir… yes, it is. But it's too early to tell if his memory is completely destroyed. The laes did the trick, but we'll have to wait and see whether the synaptic remapping is effective."
The elf leaned in. "I think there's a serious problem with this subject," he said in a voice that was both condescending and effete.
"And what might that be?" Roxborough asked.
"His magic is extremely strong. His aura hasn't changed since the laes was administered. I just have an odd feeling about him. Even if the biology is effective, I'm not sure the cybermantic procedure will work on this one."
Roxborough looked at Meyer, focusing down on his face. The on-line voice stress-analyzer indicated that Meyer was telling the truth as far as he knew it; he didn't seem to have any hidden agenda for telling Roxborough this. Except perhaps to cover his hoop if the magic frags up.
The experimental procedure that would liberate Roxborough from his prison of macroglass and saline was a two-step process. Step one was technological-the subject's mind was wiped with drugs and his brain was remapped by implanting new memories. And also, according to Riese, retroviruses and trypanosomes were used to redistribute the synaptic relationships, strengthening some while weakening others until the actual neuronal map looked like Roxborough's. This step had worked on eight or nine test subjects and was almost routine by this point.
But the second step, which involved magic, had worked on only three test subjects. Roxborough didn't understand the details, but it involved techniques similar to those used in cybermancy. Meyer had explained it to him several times, but Roxborough always had to think of it as an exchange of spirits. In cybermancy, the mages tried to tie the subject's spirit to his body even though there was too much metal in the flesh to hold the spirit. The spells acted as a tether to the subject's will.
The experimental spirit transfer was supposed to work similarly. Meyer and his mages would tether Roxborough's spirit to Ryan's body after Ryan's spirit was forced out. According to Meyer, the trick was to bring Ryan's body to the point of death, but not over, then form a bridge with blood magic such that Roxborough's spirit would cross into Ryan's body. Ryan's spirit would be released, then the body's wounds would be healed, but it would contain Roxborough's mind, memories, and spirit.
/ will be physical again.
"So," Roxborough said, letting loose with his full sardonic tone, "you want me to scrap this one, an otherwise perfect specimen, because you have an 'odd feeling' about him?"
Meyer was used to these sorts of meetings, however. "I'm
just giving you my opinion as head mage. I advise caution. After the last suite of retroviruses, we should give this subject plenty of time to adjust to your brain patterns. Your memories may take longer to settle in. If his aura has changed some by then, perhaps we can proceed with the transfer."
"Your concern is noted, Mr. Meyer," said Roxborough. "But hopefully unwarranted." His simulacrum leaned in close and his voice rose slightly. "Let me make one thing perfectly, fragging, clear. I want this one. This man's body is perfect. Unmarred. Beautiful…"
They sat speechless, knowing better than to interrupt.
"You will make it work, or I will replace you with those who can. Understood?"
Riese nodded, but Meyer just stared into the glossy surface of the board room table. "I don't think you-"
"No slotting excuses!" Roxborough's voice was blaring from the speakers now. "It has worked on our test subjects, and it will work with this one. You will make it work, or I will get rid of you…" He paused to let them think about that. Nobody left the delta clinic to pursue other careers. They would be killed and they knew it.
Meyer looked up into the eyes of the simulacrum, his face a mask of controlled rage. Mouth drawn into a tight line. "I scan," he said, then abruptly stood and walked out.
Roxborough put a smart frame tracer on him to follow him with the hall cameras. There was nowhere he could go inside the complex to escape Roxborough's scrutiny. And the great thing was-the wiz thing-Meyer knew he was trapped, but couldn't do anything about it.
That's why I'm the fragging boss, thought Roxborough. That's why I own nearly a third of Aztechnology. Power, he was addicted to it. Power over the little people. Over the information.
Power over everything, with one exception. One huge exception-his own body. His corporeal form, which had decided to eat itself up from the inside.
Soon, he thought. Soon I will have that power as well. I will be fragging unstoppable in Mercury's body. And I will have it. The man who was Ryan Mercury is gone, erased like
a recycled datachip. And in his place, grows the man who will become me. First, my personality and my memories. Then, in a few weeks or a month, the ultimate hostile takeover-my will. My spirit. Me.