Chapter 1

I had gone to sleep at the People's Clinic. And I woke up ... elsewhere.

"Body temperature is 94.9... 95..."

"Blood pressure is 110 over 60, rising ... O2 sats pushing 80 ... Pulse 48 ... increasing."

"Respiration normal, doctor."

"Hang another glucose, please."

"Brain activity is normal, no sign of deterioration."

"Lungs are clear."

Doctors and nurses, dressed in blue and green. I felt ... tired. And cold. I went back to sleep.

I opened my eyes and the room was mercifully dim, but I could see it was large. Long and filled with beds close together like a barracks, or a tuberculosis ward, with quietly blinking monitors. A woman lay next to me, our beds separated by a few feet. She seemed to be sleeping. I turned over slowly, and it took every ounce of strength I possessed.

"Hey," a voice whispered and I saw another woman, on another bed. I nodded at her, taking a deep breath.

"Hello," I finally managed.

"I am Fong Wen Yung." She seemed stronger than I and much more alert.

"Hello," I repeated, feeling too tired to say anything else. I closed my eyes once more.

"You are awake again."

I blinked and saw the same girl in the bed next to mine, but I felt better this time. "Where are we? Is this the People's Clinic?" I asked slowly, keeping my voice soft like hers.

"I do not know, but the nurses are Americans, I think." It struck me then, like a rock on my head, she wasn't speaking in the tongue I'd grown up with. Neither of us were and I felt very nervous, even frightened perhaps.

"Why are we speaking English?" I asked and the words from my lips were foreign.

"I do not know. Who are you?"

"I am Ming Yun Su," I said. "From Beijing."

"I am from Qingdao"

"Oh."

We did not talk after that. A nurse walked slowly down the center aisle, her rubber soled shoes creaking in that soft light, and she saw that Fong was awake. I don't know why, but I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep when two men came and wheeled her bed away. I did sleep then, and when I awoke again, there was a new bed, with a new woman. But she was not awake.

I tried to sit up and I became aware of the tubes in my arm, and another, a catheter in my sex. I stared at the strange devices and when the nurse saw me, she walked over.

"Lie down, please. It's too soon for you." She used a needle, injecting something into my I.V. and I slept again.

They took my bed, wheeling it from the large room into a smaller one. Two men and a woman were there, dressed like nurses. They bathed me gently and one of the men fed me some very soft food, warm rice and milk. I drank water, flavored like peaches. My body protested and I felt ill. I'd eaten such a small amount, but it seemed to my belly as if I'd feasted for hours.

"Your stomach has been empty for a long time. It'll take a few days before you'll be able to sustain yourself without help," the man said, gesturing towards the I.V. and smiling patiently. The two women had left us.

"Where am I?" I asked him.

"You're in Buenos Ares, in the United States of the Americas." He offered me more of the sweet water, but I shook my head. "You were purchased by the company and you're in stage four of your reconditioning."

"Which ... company?" I looked around because I did indeed vomit then, making a terrible mess on the sheet in front of me.

The nurse didn't seem to mind; he wrapped the sheet up carefully and walked it over to a bin before finding a clean replacement and spreading it over my naked body. He wiped my mouth softly and gave me a little more to drink.

"Design Praxis." He smoothed my sheet. "I need to check on some other units. A doctor will be in shortly, okay?" He touched my head and smiled. "Would you like to watch some television?"

I nodded and he handed me a remote control before he left, closing the door behind him. The room was very small, just large enough for the bed, a small chair, the bin and a cabinet. Some machines and an I.V. drip were on a stand next to me and there was a small television mounted to the wall. I thumbed the remote, finding only one channel available.

"Welcome to Design Praxis!" a cheerful woman's voice spoke as the television showed the unfamiliar company logo. "This short indoctrination has been prepared for your benefit. You are a valuable member of the Praxis team." The TV showed dozens of men and women of many ethnic backgrounds, all smiling happily.

"HolograFx Entertainment Systems was formed in 2022," the video continued, "as a joint venture of Microsoft International, Sony North America, Pfizer-BioCol Ltd. and Time-Warner Global. In 2030, under the twin aegis of the Bio-Reformation Act and the New Harvard Genetics Accord, HFx merged with Advanced Synthetic Designs to became Design Praxis and made it's IPO on April 1st 2031. Today Praxis is a Fortune 500 company with annual sales in excess of eighteen billion dollars and is recognized as the personal service industry leader, providing state of the art products to millions of customers systemwide.

"You are currently at the Praxis Reconditioning Facility located in Buenos Ares. This facility was completed in 2066 and incorporates the most advanced reconditioning equipment and techniques available."

I watched as different areas of the facility were displayed.

"Because Praxis believes in quality over quantity, your specific reconditioning will not be identical to any other unit's. All of our products are tailored to meet the specific physical, emotional, and intellectual requirements of our valued customers. Through our revolutionary Biogenesis Process you have been modified to provide many years of stimulating and productive service in a variety of challenging environments. Advanced technologies, such as AGP and RVS enhanced DNA recoding are restricted for export to certain countries and are not permitted for off-world application under any circumstances."

The television showed laboratories and offices filled with white smocked employees.

"You are currently in phase four of your reconditioning. Phase one began with your procurement through the government agency of your birth nation and included screening and selection for appropriate service. Phase two commenced with your transfer from your selection depot to this facility..." The television displayed each process as the narration continued through all five phases. " ... Completed units typically are maintained in situ less than 24 hours before being shipped."

There was a shot of hundreds of people filing happily into FedEx shuttles.

"As property of Design Praxis it is important that you understand your legal status. You were purchased through the World Trade Organization's 2047 PSM Convention. The Population Support Measure requires all countries to eliminate excess population and conforms to U.N. Resolution 2036-13, which established population density criteria world-wide. Pursuant to this Convention, Praxis will purchase over 300,000 individuals this year alone for the Personal Entertainment Division and over 2.2 million more for off-world labor and military applications.

"By the terms of the PSM you have been designated and registered as 'Human Excess' and are removed from all national obligation, debt, and privilege. You are property of Design Praxis until such time that you are purchased and payment is received in full. Upon completion of financial obligation by the end user, Design Praxis is relieved all liability for your maintenance and operation, except where specified by lawful contract.

"Current Federal and UN regulations restrict the sale of Series IV units to the United States of the Americas. Series III units are available for private home use in the European Commonwealth, and Corporate Japan. First and second generation units without specific DNA recoding are for off-world commercial use only and are available without restriction. Please review your operating license and note specific restrictions..."

The presentation was still going on when the door opened and a young black man with a lab coat and a clipboard walked in. He reached up and turned off the TV as he walked past it.

"Good morning, Ming. I see you found the indoctrination. Good." He checked my I.V. and a medical scanner that was beeping softly. "You're coming along nicely."

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"I'm Dr. Mays and mostly I'm just here to see how you are and move you to the next phase of your reconditioning."

"Why do I speak English?" I'd been wondering about that a long time.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Ming, " he said with a smile. "You were asleep for a long time, almost three months, until we received an order for you."

"So long?" I blinked at him.

He frowned slightly. "Let me back up. We purchased you through the Chinese government and catalogued you. Then we put you to sleep so that you would cost less for the company to maintain as inventory, okay? While you were there we started your reconditioning, teaching your mind new things while your body slept."

"What ... things?" I asked slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Our Series IV customers are American and predominantly English speaking, so that's what you learned," he explained patiently. "We also taught you some basic things that you may, or may not have learned previously. We find that many new units are unfamiliar with simple American household appliances and customs, for example. We worked on your personality as well, so that you would better fit the specifications of your final purchase order."

He paused to let all that sink in.

"We did other things to your body too. You may have noticed for instance that your breasts are a bit larger and that your nose has been reshaped slightly, so it's less ... flat, more pert."

He smiled as I touched my nose and looked at my chest. I had in fact not noticed, but they were larger, perhaps a full cup size.

"But those are just cosmetic," Dr. Mays continued. "The real changes were done at the molecular level, using gene therapy and retroviral treatment. We've managed to introduce geriatric inhibiters, to reduce the effects of aging. We can't eliminate it completely of course, but we can do some amazing things."

"I don't understand." I looked at him blankly.

"Well, you're nineteen years old and by the time you're fifty, you'll look much the same as you do now. We've also been able to invest your immune system with a much stronger resistance than has ever been possible before. Cancer, Tuberculosis, Malaria, HIV, even the common cold doesn't stand much of a chance. Your body can't even host a viral RNA, let alone become afflicted with it. You'll never be sick again."

"Is everyone... ?" I stared at him. I'd never be sick? Never get old? This sounded like magic and I vaguely remembered the stories told in the neighborhood where I'd grown up. Americans were like gods to us, intangible and all-powerful.

"Is everyone ... what? Immune?" Dr. Mays smiled. "No. The fact is that these treatments are not intended for humans and have only recently been approved for Series IV production. There are certain problems that arise, especially with aging. As slow as you'll age over the next thirty years or so, once the inhibiters breakdown, as they inevitably will, the aging process accelerates at a phenomenal rate. The effects are not pleasant and irreversible, at least at present."

"So I have thirty years of this..." I looked down at my flawless body, " ... and then I'll die of old age?" It was hard to comprehend, almost insidious by design, I thought.

"Virtually overnight," the doctor nodded. "Does that disturb you, Ming?"

I thought about it and found that it didn't seem to bother me in the least. I shook my head.

"Acceptance of certain ... truths ... is part of your reconditioning," he said while making a note of some kind on his clipboard. "Anyway, this phase that you're in now is mostly just acclimatizing and regeneration. Your body needs to learn how to eat again, how to digest and process American food, rather than your sub-standard native fare. You also require some additional physical modification, particularly to your ovaries, some cosmetic dental work, and minor surface reconditioning. New skin, in other words, to remove blemishes for example. These are all very easy and it'll take less than three or four days."

"My ovaries?" I instinctively moved my hand to my stomach and lower, as if to protect myself.

"We strive to provide our clients with premium services, Ming. None of our units are capable of human reproduction, of course, but there are other alternatives that are available as special options. Your eggs were purged during phase three, as they are in all female units," he explained with a small shrug, as if this were nothing at all. "Males undergo a different procedure to render the sperm unviable."

"You said other alternatives?" I wondered what that meant.

"Your end user will be able to explain more fully, Ming." Dr. Mays smiled as he looked up from his clipboard. "I see certain aspects of your reconditioning were blocked from your conscious processing. That's not unusual. You'll just have to be patient."

I nodded my acceptance, wondering why I wasn't feeling more distressed at all this. Had they brainwashed me so thoroughly that I calmly accepted everything, for better or worse, without regard for my own lost dreams? I didn't feel different, but then I tried to remember what I'd felt like before I'd gone to sleep and ... I couldn't.

"And then what?" I asked him.

"And then you'll go through Quality Assurance and be shipped out. You were purchased by, hmmm..." He looked through his clipboard, punching some buttons. "Ms. Julia Harrison for delivery to Mr. Randolph Harrison, of Seattle, Washington. The order was for an attractive subservient oriental female, virgin, 18-22 years, petite build, 34C breasts, long hair, fluent in English, competent at cooking, cleaning, and household management." Doctor Mays looked back up at me. "How do you prepare Chicken Cordon Bleu?"

I offered the recipe mechanically, not knowing where the words came from, but certain they were correct. It was shocking.

He smiled when he saw the look on my face. "I'm sure there are many things you'll find surprising. Here, you can see some of the specific requirements your end-user requested." Dr. Mays pushed a key on his clipboard and a moment later handed me a small printout.

I scanned down the page noting that I could play chess, bridge, tennis, and golf. I had a conversational knowledge of English literature, classical music, and renaissance art. I had an affection for dogs and horses. I could swim, dance a waltz and tango, and play the piano. There were other things, but those stuck out in my mind, simply because it had never occurred to me before that I would ever know anything about them. I handed the paper back to Dr. Mays.

"Why did they pick me? I mean, how ... why?" I didn't even know how to express my confusion.

"Who? Your government? Or the customer?" Dr. Mays gave me a tender smile. "The Chinese government picked you according to their own criteria; I honestly don't know the specifics. The customer placed the basic inquiry through our spring catalogue and then a customer service representative sat down with them and went over specifics. You..." he looked pointedly at me, " ... were picked for Series IV by the engineers, based partly on your appearance, which I must say is quite exquisite, but even more importantly on your intellectual potential and your genetic composition. Certain aspects of your conditioning and enhancement simply aren't possibly with 99% of the general population."

I nodded as though I understood.

"You're the very finest entertainment product in the world, Ming. And very valuable," he sighed, stroking my hair gently. "Worth your weight in gold, literally. We'll manufacture and sell over a quarter million pleasure units this year, but less than a hundred will be a Series IV like you. That's why I'm here. Why everyone in the company is dedicated to ensuring your well-being. We're all extremely proud of you, Ming."

Dr. Mays returned to his clipboard while I tried to digest what he'd told me.

"As to the philosophical 'why you?' That's what we all wonder, isn't it?" He chuckled softly. "Perhaps the Harrisons will be able to explain. My information says he's on the Board of Directors at Boeing Aerospace and Ms. Harrison is ... hmmm ... doesn't say. Good customers though, three units in fourteen months..." he seemed to be talking to himself. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"When ... when can I go home?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"To China? Never. Your home is here, for the next few weeks, and then it will be in Seattle. You are Unit F031129-68, PID is Ming and your processor is an Intel/MSI Neural Series IV..." Dr. Mays offered me one last smile. "You should be very proud of yourself."