So Long Been Dreaming Read Free Page B

with me.”
    “Until you do? But if –”
    “Until I don’t. I wasn’t sure I wanted to anyway. Now it sounds so much more inviting. ‘Defective body?’ ‘Don’t mind if I do.’” Thad’s icon got up from their bed to mimic unctuous host and vivacious guest. “‘And, oh, you’re serving that on a totally unexplored and no doubt dangerous new planet? I just adore totally –’”
    “Stop it!” Wayna hated it when he acted that way, faking that he was a flamer. She hooked him by one knee and pulled him down, putting her hand over his mouth. She meant it as a joke; they ought to have ended up wrestling, rolling around, having fun, having more sex. Thad didn’t respond, though. Not even when Wayna tickled him under his arms. He had amped down his input.
    “Look,” he said. “I went through our ‘voluntary agreement.’ We did our part by letting them bring us here.”
    Doe propped herself up on both elbows. She had huge nipples, not like the ones on her clone’s breasts. “You’re really serious.”
    “Yes. I really am.”
    “Why?” asked Wayna. She answered herself: “Dr Ops won’t let you download into a woman. Will he.”
    “Probably not. I haven’t even asked.”
    Doe said “Then what is it? We were going to be together, at least on the same world. All we went through and you’re just throwing it away –”
    “Together to do what? To bear our enemies’ children, that’s what, we nothing but a bunch of glorified mammies, girl, don’t you get it? Remote-control units for their immortality investments, protection for their precious genetic material. Cheaper than your average AI, no benefits, no union, no personnel manager. Mammies .”
    “Not mammies,” Doe said slowly. “I see what you’re saying, but we’re more like incubators, if you think about it. Or petri dishes – inoculated with their DNA. Except they’re back on Earth; they won’t be around to see the results of their experiment.”
    “Don’t need to be. They got Dr Ops to report back.”
    “Once we’re on Amends,” Wayna said, “no one can make us have kids or do anything we don’t want.”
    “You think. Besides, they won’t have to make people reproduce. It’s a basic drive.”
    “Of the meat.” Doe nodded. “Okay. Point granted, Wayna?” She sank down again, resting her head on her crossed arms.
    No one said anything for awhile. The jazz Thad liked to listen to filled the silence: smooth horns, rough drums, discreet bass.
    “Well, what’ll you do if you stay in here?” Doe asked. “What’ll Dr Ops do? Turn you off? Log you out permanently? Put your processors on half power?”
    “Don’t think so. He’s an AI. He’ll stick to the rules.”
    “Whatever those are,” said Wayna.
    “I’ll find out.”
    She had logged off then, withdrawn to sleep in her bunkroom, expecting Doe to join her. She’d wakened alone, a note from Dr Ops on the mirror, which normally she would have missed. Normally she avoided the mirror, but not this morning. She’d studied her face, noting the narrow nose, the light, stubby lashes around eyes an indeterminate colour she guessed could be called grey. Whose face had this been? A senator’s? A favourite secretary’s? Hers, now. For how long?
    Floating upright in the deep end, she glanced at her arms. They were covered with blonde hairs which the water washed into rippled patterns. Her small breasts mounded high here in the pool, buoyant with fat.
    Would the replacement be better-looking, or worse?
    Wayna turned to see the clock on the wall behind her. Ten. Time to get out and get ready for her appointment.

    “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Wayna.” Dr Ops looked harassed and faintly ashamed. He hadn’t been able to tell her anything about the pains. He acted like they weren’t important; he’d even hinted she might be making them up just to get a different body. “You’re not the first to ask, you know. One per person, that’s all. That’s it.”
    Thad’s