Descending Road - CATCHING A BAD COLD by Dana W. Paxson

CATCHING A BAD COLD

The children have not returned for many days. Managing my bodily wastes is troublesome, but with the Gengine I breed small sluglike sanitation creatures that handle the job quite well. By now the last of the City ichor is gone from my blood, and the skin I expropriated is truly my own at last.

I busy myself in my lab, testing out new Gengine variations on the shixen, working on new bacterial transporters for viral transformers. These little tools are widely used in this city now; the corporations who manufacture bioandroid servants like to upgrade their living human products using the viruses.

The conversations of passers-by, over many years, taught me the ways of these people. Bioandroids, or andros, are vat-bred human slaves here. Want to extend your andro‘s eyesight up into the ultraviolet? Give him some U-455 inhalant, have him sniff up the gene-changing viruses, and he’ll catch a bad cold. Five days later he’ll be seeing into the youvee, talking about the new colors. The fast-moving magic of viral transforms.

Got an andro mining crew running short on stamina? Infect one of them with Myo-92, and they’ll all catch a case of muscle-cell upgrade. Since the bacteria are generation-clocked, the infection can’t spread any further than you let it. But remember, Myo-92 leaves the subject with weakened resistance to a range of simple viral diseases, so be sure to inoculate your andros.

I listened well to the thrill-seekers staring at me in my prison, while they spoke of these things. Now I cook and eat the last of my latest special crop of shixen, vat-bred now for taste.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	CATCHING A BAD COLD 6303 Arcus The children have not returned for many days. Managing my bodily wastes is troublesome, but with the Gengine I breed small sluglike sanitation creatures that handle the job quite well. By now the last of the City ichor is gone from my blood, and the skin I expropriated is truly my own at last. I busy myself in my lab, testing out new Gengine variations on the shixen, working on new bacterial transporters for viral transformers. These little tools are widely used in this city now; the corporations who manufacture bioandroid servants like to upgrade their living human products using the viruses. The conversations of passers-by, over many years, taught me the ways of these people. Bioandroids, or andros, are vat-bred human slaves here. Want to extend your andro‘s eyesight up into the ultraviolet? Give him some U-455 inhalant, have him sniff up the gene-changing viruses, and he’ll catch a bad cold. Five days later he’ll be seeing into the youvee, talking about the new colors. The fast-moving magic of viral transforms. Got an andro mining crew running short on stamina? Infect one of them with Myo-92, and they’ll all catch a case of muscle-cell upgrade. Since the bacteria are generation-clocked, the infection can’t spread any further than you let it. But remember, Myo-92 leaves the subject with weakened resistance to a range of simple viral diseases, so be sure to inoculate your andros. I listened well to the thrill-seekers staring at me in my prison, while they spoke of these things. Now I cook and eat the last of my latest special crop of shixen, vat-bred now for taste.