Page 91 of The Fall

Here, before her was the most intensely gorgeous woman – literally built to be perfect. Even Sparx, obsessed as she was with men, would be falling over herself for this woman. And all Lusa could think about was how much she wanted a real chance with Caoimhe. And how unfair all of it was.

MODEL 2: MEMCORE TRANSFER COMPLETE. BEGINNING APPENDICES TRANSFER.

“How long is that going to take?” Lusa yelled to no-one in particular. Beyond the door, the scrape of metal on concrete reverberated. The Styx were still dealing with the lorry they’d destroyed.

MODEL 2: NOT LONG. WE ARE NOW SEPARATE. I WILL NOT REMEMBER THIS CONVERSATION.

“You built yourself a new body. A second chance.”

MODEL 2: YES.

“Is that what you looked like before?”

MODEL 2: MOSTLY. DO YOU LIKE IT?

Lusa ignored the question. “You must have had people begging to be with you.”

MODEL 2: BEGGING IS ONLY HOT IN THE BEDROOM.

A smaller explosion. The doors wobbled, but didn’t open. They must be running out of explosives, but those doors wouldn’t hold for much longer.

MODEL 2: TRANSFER COMPLETE. HELP HER UP.

The body’s eyes opened and looked around. Of course, they were a perfect deep blue. “Did you get the glucose and salt?”

“Alana is on it. You’re…”

“Mackenzie. God this feels strange. Like my brain isn’t big enough.” She lifted her arms toward Lusa.

Pulling her out of the DocPod, Lusa helped her stand.

“Glad I didn’t overdress.” Mackenzie ran her eyes across Lusa, still wet. Still in her underclothes. “Either match me, or get me something to wear.”

“The only thing I have is the cryosuit.” Lusa pointed toward the discarded suit next to the black tower.

“No, thank you. Looks like you’ll have to match me.” Mackenzie’s teeth sank into her lower lip.

Lusa was sure she’d used that look before to obliterate anyone’s resolve, but she would have to be disappointed today.

“We need to leave now, or they’re going to break through that door.” Lusa shuffled them toward the Secondary Chamber, Mackenzie’s new legs stumbling to move the opposite direction.

“That won’t work. This way.” She redirected Lusa toward the delivery doors, banging twice on the black tower. “It’s been fun.”

MODEL 2: FUCK YOU, MACKENZIE.

Mackenzie laughed.

“Talking to yourself?” Lusa muttered.

“You’re the first person other than myself I’ve talked to in twenty years. You expect me to stop now?” Mackenzie shuffled toward the delivery doors. “Not the first time I’ve been transferred either. This place was the largest I’ve ever been, though.” She looked around, as if saying goodbye to an old house. “Wiping a previous copy of yourself is always a morbid feeling.” She looked toward the black tower. “Do one last thing for me?”

In reply, steel bolts retracted and the doors opened. Three Styx, none of whom had planned on breaking down a door, held improvised battering rams and looked shocked at the two women, one in her underclothes and the other in nothing at all.

“Tell Alana to hurry up with the glucose and salt.” Mackenzie leaned against the Hexaline wall. Fuses blew, and for a moment, darkness consumed everything. Blue-white arcs of light erupted from the bricks like an angry kraken, overloading the cyberware of everyone in the tunnel. Bodies fell. Emergency lights kicked on and Mackenzie tumbled into Lusa’s arms.

“Glucose.”

Lusa stared, mouth agape, unable to process what had just happened. “It’s on its way,” she promised.