Chapter 2

General Heuristic Soma Transferrence. Ghost to the the poor sods who undergo it. The only option for life for sound minds in broken bodies, who cannot afford to have a clone on standby. Take the bits that make a man a man, the thought patterns, memories, experience and the soul, and shovel them into a computer bank. Then hope the person does not go insane before he learns to run the sensory peripherals.

Of course, we are indentured. The cost of the operation, the maintainence of the mainframes, it all needs to be paid for. We have no money, so we give service. Some of the cost can be met by selling what is left of the body on the exchange. But no where near all of it. So we serve a term, doing what we are told, then become free agents, free to thrive, or fail and be switched off.

I was lucky.

If the police ambulance had not arrived just as I was shot, there would have been nothing left to transfer. Very few murder victims ever make it to the mind banks. My experience with neural controls - pretty much obligatory in research back then - allowed me to learn peripheral control fast enough to avoid insanity through sensory deprivation.

A strong self image - too strong, according to the psychist - and a limited imagination allowed me to orient my peripherals to my body map - chemo sensors to taste and smell, sonics to the ears etc. I know a ghost that wasn't so lucky - he sees everything as taste. Best analytical chemist I know, but it makes talking to him difficult.

And, once checked and certified as sane enough to be a functional ghost, I was transferred into a deep miner, so I never lost the habit of interacting with my environment.