page0067.mm

<p>Page 67.</p>
<p>My heart thumped as
I approached the Repository. I was being silly: my parts would still
be there, of course they would. The alternative was, what, that
Cassandra Cautery had stolen them away to trial in other people? That
was ridiculous. Even if that fitted into her grand corporate plan, I
refused to believe she would do it. Because they were mine. They were
my parts.</p>
<p>I reached the door
and fumbled for my card. My biological fingers shook. Finally I got
the card into the slot and swiped.</p>
<p>The lock blinked
red. This was such a shock that I stood there for a moment, staring
at it. This lock had never shown me red, ever. There was no reason
for it. It was my room. It was where I kept my parts.</p>
<p>A groan slipped out
of my mouth, sounding like it came from someone else. I tried the
card again. Red. Red. Red.</p>
<p>I couldn&rsquo;t
breathe. A roaring grew in my ears, like a waterfall. My vision
flared white. I grabbed at the wall for balance. Then I laughed
giddily, because of course I was in the Contours, which would keep me
upright whether I was conscious or not, not like treacherous meat
legs, and then I did start to faint, and hit my skull on the wall.
&ldquo;Ow,&rdquo; I said, and realized I was crying; or, at least,
that there was salty water on my cheeks, and the bottom-line was that
I needed to get into the Repository right away to see if my parts
were okay.</p>
<p>I kicked the door.
It flew off its hinges and broke against the far wall. I had kicked
it pretty hard. I was not thinking clearly. I walked into the
Repository and everything was all right, because surrounding me were
the gleaming steel shelves, lined with prosthetics. I started to
laugh. I <em>had</em> been silly. It was going to be hard to explain
this door.</p>
<p>Then my stomach
clenched. There was a gap. A space, where none should exist. My arms
were missing. And not in the good way.</p>