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page0056.mm
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<p>Page 56.</p>
<p>The next day, Carl wheeled me through
the corridors of Research Division to the Repository. There was not
much talking. While waiting for an elevator, he said, “I was
really relieved to hear Ms. Banks is recovering,” and I didn’t
say anything, because I hated him.</p>
<p>Like most doors in Better Future, the
Repository was protected by an electronic lock. You couldn’t go
to the bathroom in this place without swiping first. I think it had
less to do with keeping unauthorized people out than monitoring where
authorized people went. “I don’t have my pass,” I
said. This was kind of an accusation, because I’d had it before
Carl shot Lola. They had taken it while I was sedated, along with my
fingers and legs.</p>
<p>“That’s okay.” Carl
swiped his own card. The lock’s display blinked a friendly
green. I was surprised, because as far as I knew, we did not grant
lab access to random security guards. Carl had special access.</p>
<p>He turned the handle and the door
opened. Until this moment, I had not really believed they would let
me have my legs back. I had been bracing myself for Cassandra Cautery
to slide out from a doorway, look sympathetic, and say there was a
last-minute problem. But Carl just wheeled me inside.</p>
<p>It was a large room, with many shelves.
On slabs of gleaming steel lay half a dozen sets of legs in various
stages of completion. My Contours, the set I’d been forcibly
removed from, were amongst them. To my right was a smorgasbord of
fingers. Next to them, the hands. I was not really happy with the
hands. So far I’d been unable to come up with anything I could
honestly say was a clear improvement on Nature. It was frustrating,
because I had some great arms, ready to go. Some really great arms.</p>
<p>Carl said, “Should I fetch you a
sweater?”</p>
<p>I jumped a little. I’d forgotten
he was here. “What?”</p>
<p>“You’re shivering.”
He pointed to my arms. It was true.</p>
<p>“Oh,” I said. “No,
thanks.”</p>