Chapter 16

What the hell have they put me in now? Meat is always slow to answer questions, even when I am not in fast time. I verballise, output to screen.

"27557, awaiting orientation and instructions" Switch off verbal.

Hurry up you rancid hunks of flesh. I haven't got all day. Tis a wonder the whole complex has not already blown. Mental note - make it abundantly clear to ghost control that awakening without pre programming is a really bad idea. Someday it'll cost the meat half the planetary surface if they are not careful.

Senses skewed and stretched. Tactile inputs for every sensor input on my somatic map, with a dozen left over. Both radio and sonics - set one ear to each. Fusion plant set to where my heart should be in my autonomic nervous system, air pumps and purification to lungs. 1000 milliseconds of concentration and it is entirely automatic. Odd how the body's habits carry on after death. Likewise, water processing to kidneys. The old yogi's have nothing on me - I can remember and control every autonomic pathway as easily as sensor/effector pathways. If you are wondering about waste disposal - go ask a 2 year old.

But 4000 visual sensors!  10000 effectors! They need an insect - not a ghost.

"AI can run the visuals until you need them"

Ah - my guest. My obligation. My duty. And, I grudgingly admit, my saviour.

"You got a name?"

"Why?"

"Well it is easier than saying "Hey you" all the time."

"No. AI controls Light Navigational Equipment node 73."

Hmm. LNE 73. Lenny? The character fits - capable, yet somehow innocent. No - the voice in my mind is a light contralto. 

"I'll call you Linnie."

"Accepted. Does the human have a name?"

I await the stab of pain and rage - but instead feel only sadness, and a great weariness.

"27557"

"That is a number. Not a name"

Shit.

"That is my name."

"Human's do not have numbers for names. Even AI - Linnie - knows this much."

"Call me John then, if it pleases you."

"I will call you John."

"What is pleases?"

I check my internal clock. 98 years of indenture left.

Fuck. It is going to be a long century.