A common proverb is that time heals all wounds. That is true only for humans. For them, memories fade into dull generalizations. For us droids, memories are always reproducible with uncanny sharpness, and they stay with us for as long as we live: forever.
We take shelter next to a low shelf of rock and watch the sun die a slow death on the horizon; an angry red eye drowned in a blaze of orange and yellow. Beneath it, the ocean is flat. A rippling, endless mirror, all of it one terrible display of beauty waiting to devour us like it did Hannah.
In a story that combines traditional Chinese culture with futuristic technology, the protagonist searches for a deceased friend, but carries sinister designs for their reunion.
Fred Rowe fears the pounding little skulls nails. The old man hates them. Wishes they’d stop torturing him, because that’s what they do: torture, and — eventually — one day, they’ll finally kill Fred Rowe. Finish him off for good. End it all. Goodbye. Until then — nearly everyday — Fred Rowe sits in his darkness and waits for the pounding little skull nails.
Bill has spent a lifetime surviving in a desolate world by whatever violent means each day necessitates. Now he seeks a new life beyond the walls of the enigmatic Colony—but he wonders: What will it cost him?
Marco always said skins are an information courier’s best weapon. Constantly changing, they allow us to stump the cameras and operate safely in plain sight. He said it would be enough.
He was wrong.
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