Home Made
Bio hacking had been a thing for maybe 30 years, he’d mixed it in with the 3D printing tech he had. He had read about wetware and prosthetics and he had started the project. It wouldn’t be her, it never could be her. He had her hair, had gotten hold of an old blood sample of hers; it would be part of her.
It was a cyborg, it was stitched with bio-electronics, nano-ceramics had been printed into optronic circuitry within the creature’s body. He had not been able to find matching material and she was piece-meal. He hoped she would not mind, hoped he had fitted the nervous system to the meat and the synth correctly.
He fired up his hub for the last few hours of work, reminding himself once more that this thing would not be his daughter. She was gone, this thing he was making… he wasn’t sure what it was or why he was actually making it. He’d been working on the program for the past five years; he’d looked at the footage of his girl, read her school books, sent her drawings to psychiatric analysers.
He called the program bundle Nim’s Chem.
Tonight was the night. He feared he was about to become Dr Frankenstein. She would have the ability to learn, to grow, to be; she was not his daughter, but she would be a daughter. May had left him when she found what he was doing; she had tried to understand, but she had not been the girl’s mother. If she had been, maybe she would have understood more.
He waited for a moment and hesitated. All his trials, all his pain, were all about to come to an end. Either way, work or fail, this was the moment he played with eternity, when he had the potential power of life over death. He began the upload and integration, clicked his neck and rolled his shoulders, and wiped a tear from his pudgy eye. It was going to be a long vigil as he waited for systems to click in.
He ordered krill and seaweed pizza.
The time stretched and he yawned and he fixed bugs on the fly and giggled at the pun and cried that his daughter would have loved the joke and time stretched out and the night wound around his heart and then the stitched body of meat and ceramics began to twitch.
Then it was still and he held his breath. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She was new, he saw it there in her eyes. He whooped and she jumped just the way he remembered her as a toddler when his mother-in-law had done something similar. He gathered her into his arms and cried. She blinked and tried to assimilate the experience into her brain.
Posted: Saturday, November 8th, 2014 @ 11:53 pm
Categories: Flash Fiction, The Punks World.
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