Interview with a Cyborg

Standard

You know, I never really stopped bettering myself. Since the tech became affordable, I pawned all of my jewellery and bought the best implant I could. It was an eye replacement, actually, for the left one. You know, one of those little W-0622 GIBSON numbers? Yeah, they were top of the range at one point, and the replacement made things a lot better. I mean, the surgery was painful enough. I did so much screaming I thought I should get ear replacements! But in the end, it was all worth it. I don’t even have to look at my watch anymore, since the time’s in the display, and I can always keep tabs on my social life – my social media stream comes right up in my face all the time. This first one just took a load off my life. But not enough, mind you; it wasn’t long after I got it when I went and got my other eye done; the first upgrade was making it just seem so weak, you know? Like, it may as well have been a lazy eye compared to the new one, so I got the other one done to match. It didn’t hurt so much as the first time, and with both of them working together, I’ve been able to see things in my life completely differently. I mean, I think it might be the constant thermal vision making everyone varying shades of red, but I’ve just got a whole new perspective on things. And I can just tune out of reality and just watch films for hours on end, no matter where I am or what I’m doing! It really is great. And I ended up getting those ear replacements too.

I’ve been hearing the Med Service has been offering government-paid replacement legs for amputees now. A few years ago, I’d have happily sawed my own legs off to writhe around in the pavement, claiming it was some body snatchersortscoming and nicking them, but that was then. I mean, these Medical grade augmentations are nothing compared to what I have now. That’s right; SprintTechs, the new sports model. You know them, right? Nah, you probably couldn’t afford them. See, I ended up selling my legs on the market before any thug even had a shadow of a chance of getting to them, and ended up getting these with the money. Funny that people are willing to buy inferior flesh-and-bone for these polycarbonate-fibre superchrome pieces of fucking artistry. As if I’m complaining.

The last thing I got replaced? Probably my heart. Yeah, must’ve been. I got an infection after some prick at the market sold me some dodgy Nerve-chips and I got a heart attack. The Med guys found me writhing in a gutter with three of my fingers on my right hand stolen, and rushed me in to get my heart replaced. Piece of med-grade bullshit, I’d get it replaced with a better one if I could. By which I mean, anything that isn’t Med-grade. “Oh no,” they tell me. “You have to keep this one from now on.” Or what? Am I going to die? If anything, this useless fucking plastic balloon you call a prosthetic is probably hanging the Sword of fucking Damocles over me more so than if you’d replaced it with a taped-together football!

Fucking plebs. Anyway, as if that’s going to stop me, I’m getting this thing out as soon as I find a buyer for my brain – the heart option’s out the window now, since the med guys binned it – and I’m going to get a Cardec-90/1 straight from the shop window and into my chest. Just you wait.

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