Old Man's War Boxed Set 1 (8 page)

BUILDING A BETTER YOU

You’ll no doubt be amazed at how much your new body can do. But have you wondered how it was designed? You may be interested to know that your body is just the latest series in a line of advanced, improved bodies designed by Colonial Genetics. Through proprietary technology, we adapt both genetic information from other species and the latest in miniaturized robotic technologies to improve your new body. It’s hard work, but you’ll be glad we made the effort!

From our first improvements nearly two centuries ago, we’ve progressively built on our work. To introduce changes and improvements, we rely first on advanced computer modeling techniques to simulate the effects of each proposed improvement on the entire body system. The improvements that make it through this process are then tested on biological models. Then and only then are improvements incorporated into the final body design, integrated with the “starter” DNA you provide. Rest assured that each body improvement is safe and tested, and designed to make a better you!

COMMON QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR NEW BODY

1.
Does My New Body Have a Brand Name?

Yes! Your new body is known as the Defender Series XII, “Hercules” model. Technically, it’s known as CG/CDF Model 12, Revision 1.2.11. This body model is for use only by the Colonial Defense Forces. Additionally, each body has its own model number for maintenance purposes. You can access your own number through your BrainPal
^™
. Don’t worry, you can still use your given name for everyday purposes!

2.
Does My New Body Age?

The Defender Series body is designed to provide the CDF with optimum performance its entire operating life. To do this, advanced regenerative techniques are employed at the genetic level to reduce natural entropic tendencies. With a basic maintenance regimen, your new body will remain in top condition as long as you operate it. You’ll also find that injuries and disabilities are corrected quickly—so you can be up and running again in no time flat!

3.
Can I Pass These Amazing Improvements to My Children?

No. Your body and its biological and technological systems are patented by Colonial Genetics and may not be passed on without permission. Also, due to the extensive nature of Defender Series improvements, its DNA is no longer genetically compatible with unmodified humans, and lab tests indicate that Defender Series mating creates incompatibilities lethal to the embryo in every case. Additionally, the CDF has determined that the ability to transmit genetic information is nonessential to its servicepeople’s mission; therefore, each Defender model ships sterile, although other related functionality remains intact.

4.
I’m Worried About the Theological Implications of This New Body. What Should I Do?

While neither Colonial Genetics nor the CDF maintains an official position on the theological or psychological ramifications of the transfer of consciousness from one body to another, we understand that many recruits may have questions or concerns. Each recruit transport comes equipped with clergy representing most of Earth’s major religions and an additional complement of psychological therapists. We encourage you to seek them out and discuss your questions with them.

5.
How Long Will I Stay in My New Body?

Defender Series bodies are designed for CDF use; so long as you stay in the CDF, you will be able to use and enjoy the technological and biological advancements of this new body. When you leave the CDF, you will be provided with a new, unaltered human body based on your own original DNA.

From all of us here at Colonial Genetics, congratulations on your new body! We know it will serve you well through your service in the Colonial Defense Forces. Thanks for your service to the colonies—and enjoy…Your New Body.

I set the PDA down, went over to the stateroom sink, and looked into the mirror at my new face.

It was impossible to ignore the eyes. My old body had brown eyes—muddy brown, but with interesting flecks of gold. Kathy used to tell me that she had read that flecks of color in the iris were nothing more than additional fatty tissue. So I had fat eyes.

If those eyes were fat, these were positively obese. They were gold from the pupil outward toward the rim, where they shaded toward green. The rim of the iris was a deep emerald; spikes of that color stabbed toward the pupils. The pupils themselves were slitted, drawn tight by the light directly above the mirror. I turned off that light and then turned the primary light off as well; the only light in the room was a small LED on the PDA. My old eyes would have never been able to see off of that.

My new eyes took only a moment to adjust. The room was undeniably dim, but I could make out every object clearly. I went back to the mirror and looked in; my eyes were dilated like someone with a belladonna overdose. I flicked the sink light back on and watched my pupils constrict with impressive speed.

I took off my clothes and took the first real look at my new body. My earlier impression of my form turned out to be correct; for lack of a better term, I was totally buffed out. I ran my hand down my chest and washboard stomach. I had never been this athletically fit in my life. I had no idea how they managed to make the new me this fit. I wondered how long it would take me to get it into the flabby shape I had been in during my real twenties. Then I wondered, given the amount of fiddling they had done with this body’s DNA, if it was even possible for it to become flabby. I hoped not. I liked the new me.

Oh, and I was entirely hairless from the eyelashes down.

I mean,
hairless
—not a spare hair anywhere. Arms bare, legs bare, back bare (not that it had never
not
been bare before, ahem), private bits bare. I rubbed my chin to feel if there was a hint of stubble there. Smooth as a baby’s bottom. Or my bottom, now. I looked down at my package; to be honest, without hair, it looked a little forlorn. The hair on my head was full but nondescript brown. That much hadn’t changed from my previous incarnation.

I held my hand in front of my face to get a look at the skin tone. It was a shade of green that was light but not glaring, which was good; I don’t think I could have handled being chartreuse. My skin was an even tone across my body, although my nipples and the tip of my penis were slightly darker. Basically, I seemed to have the same color contrast as before, just in a different hue. One thing I did notice, however, my veins were more noticeable, and grayish. I suspect that whatever color SmartBlood
^™
was (whatever it really was), it wasn’t bloodred. I dressed myself again.

My PDA beeped at me. I picked it up. There was a message waiting.

You now have access to your BrainPal
^™
computer system, it read. Would you like to activate it at this time? There were buttons on the screen for
YES
and
NO.
I picked
YES.

Suddenly, a deep, rich, soothing voice out of nowhere. I nearly jumped out of my new green skin.

“Hello!” it said. “You are interfacing with your BrainPal internal computer, with the patented Assistive Adaptive Interface! Do not be alarmed! Thanks to the BrainPal integration, the voice you are now hearing is being generated directly to the hearing centers of your brain.”

Great,
I thought.
There’s another voice in my head now.

“After this brief introductory session, you may turn off the voice at any time. We’ll begin with some options you can choose by answering ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ At this point, your BrainPal would like you to say ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when directed, so that it may learn to recognize this response. So when you are ready, please say the word ‘yes.’ You may say it at any time.”

The voice stopped. I hesitated, a little bit dazed.

“Please say ‘yes’ now,” the voice repeated.

“Yes!” I said, a little jumpy.

“Thank you for saying ‘yes.’ Now, please say ‘no.’”

“No,” I said, and for a moment wondered if the BrainPal
^™
would think I was saying “no” to its request, get huffy and fry my brain in its own juices.

“Thank you for saying ‘no,’” the voice said, revealing itself to be something of a literalist. “As we progress together, you will learn in time that you will not need to verbalize these commands in order for your BrainPal to respond to them. However, in the short term, you will probably wish to verbalize while you become comfortable communicating with your BrainPal. At this time, you have the option of continuing with audio, or switching to a text interface. Would you prefer to switch now to a text interface?”

“God, yes,” I said.

We will now proceed with a text interface, a line of text read, floating directly in my line of sight. The text was perfectly contrasted against what I was staring at. I moved my head, and the text stayed dead center, the contrast changed to stay perfectly readable at all times. Wild.

It is recommended that during your initial text session, you remain seated to avoid injuring yourself, the BrainPal wrote. Please sit now. I sat.

During your initial sessions with your BrainPal
^™
, you will find it easier to communicate by verbalizing. To aid the BrainPal
^™
in understanding your questions, we will now teach your BrainPal
^™
to understand your voice as it speaks. Please speak the following phonemes as you read them. In my field of vision, a list of phonemes unspooled. I read them right to left. The BrainPal then had me speak a number of short sentences. I did.

Thank you, the BrainPal wrote. Your BrainPal
^™
will now be able to take direction from the sound of your voice. Would you like to personalize your BrainPal
^™
now?

“Yes,” I said.

Many BrainPal
^™
users find it useful to give their BrainPal
^™
a name other than BrainPal
^™
. Would you like to name your BrainPal
^™
at this time?

“Yes,” I said.

Please speak the name you would like to give your BrainPal
^™
.

“‘Asshole,’” I said.

You have selected “Asshole,” the BrainPal wrote, and to its credit it spelled the word correctly. Be aware that many recruits have selected this name for their BrainPal
^™
. Would you like to choose a different name?

“No,” I said, and was proud that so many of my fellow recruits also felt this way about their BrainPal.

Your BrainPal
^™
is now Asshole, the BrainPal wrote. You may change this name in the future if you like. Now you must choose an access phrase to activate Asshole. While Asshole is active at all times it will only respond to commands after it has been activated. Please choose a short phrase. Asshole suggests “Activate Asshole” but you may choose another phrase. Please say your activation phrase now.

“‘Hey, Asshole,’” I said.

You have chosen “Hey, Asshole.” Please say it again to confirm. I did. Then it asked me to choose a deactivation phrase. I chose (of course) “Go away, Asshole.”

Would you like Asshole to refer to itself in the first person?

“Absolutely,” I said.

I am Asshole.

“Of course you are.”

I await your commands or queries.

“Are you intelligent?” I asked.

I am equipped with a natural language processor and other systems to understand questions and comments and to provide answers, which often gives the appearance of intelligence, especially when connected to larger computer networks. Brain Pal
^™
systems, however, are not natively intelligent. For example, this is an automated response. This question is asked frequently.

“How do you understand me?”

At this stage I am responding to your voice, Asshole wrote. As you speak I am monitoring your brain and learning how your brain activates when you desire to communicate with me. In time I will be able to understand you without the need for you to speak. And in time, you may also learn to use me without conscious audible or visual cues.

“What do you do?” I asked.

I have a range of abilities. Would you like to see a formatted list?

“Please,” I said.

A massive list appeared before my eyes. To see a list of subcategories, please select a top category and say, “Expand [category].” To perform an action, please say, “Open [category].”

I read down the list. Apparently, there was very little Asshole couldn’t do. He could send messages to other recruits. He could download reports. He could play music or video. He could play games. He could call up any document on a system. He could store incredible amounts of data. He could perform complex calculations. He could diagnose physical ailments and provide suggestions for cures. He could create a local network among a chosen group of other BrainPal users. He could provide instantaneous translations of hundreds of human and alien languages. He could even provide field of vision information on any other BrainPal user. I turned this option on. I barely recognized myself anymore; I doubt I’d recognize any of the other Old Farts. Overall, Asshole was a pretty useful thing to have sitting inside one’s brain.

I heard an unlatching sound at my door. I looked up. “Hey, Asshole,” I said. “What time is it?”

It is now 1200, Asshole wrote. I had spent the better part of ninety minutes fiddling with him. Well, enough of that; I was ready to see some real people.

“Go away, Asshole,” I said.

Good-bye, Asshole wrote. The text disappeared as soon as I read it.

There was a knock on the door. I walked over to open it. I figured it was Harry; I wondered what he looked like.

He looked like a knockout brunette with dark (green) olive skin and legs that went all the way up.

“You’re not Harry,” I said, incredibly stupidly.

The brunette looked at me and looked me up and down. “John?” she finally said.

I stared blankly for a second, and the name hit me—just before the ID floated ghostlike before my eyes. “Jesse,” I said.