Two hours ago, she'd never existed.
Now, Gaige Kisaragi had an old apartment in Crystal Kyoto, two bank accounts with enough money to furnish a single-person apartment on 77 Frigga, and a pilot's license issued last year by Crystal Hiroshima. Her new ID card had been freshly printed.
Name: Gaige Kisaragi.
G: F-A
DOB: 08/09/2003.
Residence. Eleanor City. 77 Frigga.
Privilege code: 1D2
Surprisingly high, considering. But then, she'd been told the algorithm also took account of physical attractiveness, whether the person wanted it on their side, or not. Gaige's annual dues had still halved. It seemed unfair, somehow.
She took a breath.
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi.”
A hollow silence answered. Every spark in her mind said otherwise. She placed the card back in it's pocket in her wallet, then slipped the wallet in her jeans pocket.
Only for a few weeks.
She took a few steps, the movements of her body no longer completely unfamiliar, but still not yet right. Things moved where she expected them to move. Her bra compressed down on every breath, constricting down. Her underwear hugged tight. The belt on her jeans pressed against her hips.
She walked right up to the window which made for the far wall
Her sister's face gazed back at her from the sun-blasted wastela
No, not anymore. Gaige could see the differences. Subtle, but there. A sharper chin, more bite to the eyes. Almost a twin, but not quite. A coarser hair style completed the differences. Maybe related, maybe cut from the same memetic cloth, but different people. Drawn by a different artist.
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi,” she said. “Test Pilot for Asagiri. I'm from Crystal Kyoto.”
Her guts twisted an answer
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi,” she tried again. “Test Pilot for Asagiri racing. I'm from Crystal Kyoto.” She took a breath. “Anything else is none of your damn business.”
The pose the reflection struck completed the image. Arms folded at the stomach, glaring down, daring to challenge. Red hair burned. Gaige Kisaragi stood outside on the asteroid surface.
Something sparked in response. Not who she wanted to be, but maybe a glimpse of someone she could've idolised on screen. An image that could be tolerated. What was it someone once said about Fenspace – you have the chance to be your own hero.
A small smile came to her lips for the first time since she'd woken up. At least for a few weeks
A mischievous spark flickered in her mind. Both hands pressed against her breasts, drawing lucious tingles throughout her body,
“I want you Mackie,” she said, drawing heavy breaths. “Truly,” she breathed, “Deeply,” she husked, “Lovingly” She rolled her tongue around the word, licking her lips as she drew an electric finger along her stomach. A giddy thrill shuddered through her body. “And you are hot, aren't you sweetling?”
Mind and body burst into war, leaving her standing there trying to make sense of it all. She stood there shivering, cold thrills crawling from her thighs up her spine, gazing at the woman she desperately wanted to embrace in that moment, mind longing for the warmth of her body against her own
Three simple words came to mind out from the fog.
Go fuck yourself.
And she burst out laughing, filling the room and ringing back at her.
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi,” she gave herself a rueful smile. “For a few weeks at least.”
Satisfied as much as possible, she stepped away from the window, pacing around the apartment. The living area furniture had been salvaged from Serenity, with only low-end monitor, barely capable of 4k output and a few cheap couches. Nothing to write home about. The kitchen had an electric cooker, a microwave and a fridge. The tap on the kitchen sink rattled when opened, a stuttering flow of water gurgling down a black-hole sink. She let it run to clean out the pipework.
The bedroom up on the mezzanine had a single bed covered in worn sheets, two empty closets and not much else.
No different from anyone else's apartment before they had the chance to make it their own. Old, recycled, just enough to live in. By the end of the year, the whole accommodation block would be fitted out and ready.
Gaige had her own apartment, a motoroid, a shipment of personal possessions on the next midget from Kyoto, a wardrobe that varied from nosebleed to normal, a history, even a Facebook account that'd been created, backdated, then sparsely populated with mindless inanities that'd look real but never actually said anything..
Parachuted into a new life. Another person's shoes. Conjoured into being out of vapour but still hers. She glanced around the empty apartment. This was her space. The idea entered her mind that not even Jet could open that door without her permission.
Maybe afterwards, she could keep it.
She lay back on her bed and stared up at the concrete ceiling.
But isn't that how it starts? And then by the end, this becomes the new normal to the point where the struggle of going back just doesn't seem worth it. A few too many showers. Maybe finally working up the courage to go a little deeper on the self investigation....
Maybe Mackie did die in the crash, and this new person gets built out of the wreckage? Already, software patched the gaps, helping her walk and sit and relax in peace. Had anything else been patched?
And what of the wave when it got involved?
She knew what it'd done to her Sister's mind. That's why she had a Sister and not whatever Jet had identified herself as before.
Isn't this all part of of the railroad? Horror. Discomfort. Tolerance. Acceptance. Enjoyment. And then, Mackie's finally allowed to die and be mourned when Gaige Kisaragi usurps his place because she can't bear the thought of ever being him again because she's built her life back up and enjoys it so much.
A terrible thought rang in his mind.
Had her Sister planned this? Something didn't seem right about her earlier. But she wouldn't be like that about it, would she?
Gaige stared, holding her hand in front of her face,
Objectively – judged purely as a machine – it was the better body. Stronger. Faster. Better senses. More efficient on energy and probably capable of running longer if she pushed it. An athlete's body, rather than a teenager's.
Another lure to tempt.
Gaige decided to spend the day in her apartment rather than face the public.
Time to settle in, she told herself. Time to build up the courage to step outside in public again and put on the mask. Time to enjoy a little peace and quiet and just think things through.
The locked door ensured her privacy.
A quick shower washed away Frigga's grime. Already, the mind had begun to adapt, sensations no longer alien, even if they were still wrong. A can of deoderant still taught a painful lesson. She wondered as she dried herself if she'd have to go through the same thing in reverse.
So, that's how it starts another part of her mind whispered. When you get to the point where going through all this discomfort and strangeness again to go back seems worse than just carrying on being Gaige?
She'd never admit to anyone that she tried on a pair of shorts with an extra bundle of socks in the crotch, just to see if it'd feel the same. If anything, it made her feel worse, accentuating the differences while reminding of what wasn't there anymore.
She paced around in the cold air, before finally slipping into a silken nightgown that'd once been her Sister's.
Nothing else. Bare feet crossed the concrete floor.
Sheer silk caressed her skin, cool and soothing as she settled a seat to watch some streams. Her legs crossed, then recrossed themselves, the body finding it's own point of comfort. Gaige couldn't help but admit that she agreed with it on this occasion. A hot cup of coffee, Schwarzmarken on the stream and no bra compressing her chest.
If she had to be like this, she could gladly spend the next few weeks exactly like this.
--
--
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
Now, Gaige Kisaragi had an old apartment in Crystal Kyoto, two bank accounts with enough money to furnish a single-person apartment on 77 Frigga, and a pilot's license issued last year by Crystal Hiroshima. Her new ID card had been freshly printed.
Name: Gaige Kisaragi.
G: F-A
DOB: 08/09/2003.
Residence. Eleanor City. 77 Frigga.
Privilege code: 1D2
Surprisingly high, considering. But then, she'd been told the algorithm also took account of physical attractiveness, whether the person wanted it on their side, or not. Gaige's annual dues had still halved. It seemed unfair, somehow.
She took a breath.
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi.”
A hollow silence answered. Every spark in her mind said otherwise. She placed the card back in it's pocket in her wallet, then slipped the wallet in her jeans pocket.
Only for a few weeks.
She took a few steps, the movements of her body no longer completely unfamiliar, but still not yet right. Things moved where she expected them to move. Her bra compressed down on every breath, constricting down. Her underwear hugged tight. The belt on her jeans pressed against her hips.
She walked right up to the window which made for the far wall
Her sister's face gazed back at her from the sun-blasted wastela
No, not anymore. Gaige could see the differences. Subtle, but there. A sharper chin, more bite to the eyes. Almost a twin, but not quite. A coarser hair style completed the differences. Maybe related, maybe cut from the same memetic cloth, but different people. Drawn by a different artist.
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi,” she said. “Test Pilot for Asagiri. I'm from Crystal Kyoto.”
Her guts twisted an answer
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi,” she tried again. “Test Pilot for Asagiri racing. I'm from Crystal Kyoto.” She took a breath. “Anything else is none of your damn business.”
The pose the reflection struck completed the image. Arms folded at the stomach, glaring down, daring to challenge. Red hair burned. Gaige Kisaragi stood outside on the asteroid surface.
Something sparked in response. Not who she wanted to be, but maybe a glimpse of someone she could've idolised on screen. An image that could be tolerated. What was it someone once said about Fenspace – you have the chance to be your own hero.
A small smile came to her lips for the first time since she'd woken up. At least for a few weeks
A mischievous spark flickered in her mind. Both hands pressed against her breasts, drawing lucious tingles throughout her body,
“I want you Mackie,” she said, drawing heavy breaths. “Truly,” she breathed, “Deeply,” she husked, “Lovingly” She rolled her tongue around the word, licking her lips as she drew an electric finger along her stomach. A giddy thrill shuddered through her body. “And you are hot, aren't you sweetling?”
Mind and body burst into war, leaving her standing there trying to make sense of it all. She stood there shivering, cold thrills crawling from her thighs up her spine, gazing at the woman she desperately wanted to embrace in that moment, mind longing for the warmth of her body against her own
Three simple words came to mind out from the fog.
Go fuck yourself.
And she burst out laughing, filling the room and ringing back at her.
“I'm Gaige Kisaragi,” she gave herself a rueful smile. “For a few weeks at least.”
Satisfied as much as possible, she stepped away from the window, pacing around the apartment. The living area furniture had been salvaged from Serenity, with only low-end monitor, barely capable of 4k output and a few cheap couches. Nothing to write home about. The kitchen had an electric cooker, a microwave and a fridge. The tap on the kitchen sink rattled when opened, a stuttering flow of water gurgling down a black-hole sink. She let it run to clean out the pipework.
The bedroom up on the mezzanine had a single bed covered in worn sheets, two empty closets and not much else.
No different from anyone else's apartment before they had the chance to make it their own. Old, recycled, just enough to live in. By the end of the year, the whole accommodation block would be fitted out and ready.
Gaige had her own apartment, a motoroid, a shipment of personal possessions on the next midget from Kyoto, a wardrobe that varied from nosebleed to normal, a history, even a Facebook account that'd been created, backdated, then sparsely populated with mindless inanities that'd look real but never actually said anything..
Parachuted into a new life. Another person's shoes. Conjoured into being out of vapour but still hers. She glanced around the empty apartment. This was her space. The idea entered her mind that not even Jet could open that door without her permission.
Maybe afterwards, she could keep it.
She lay back on her bed and stared up at the concrete ceiling.
But isn't that how it starts? And then by the end, this becomes the new normal to the point where the struggle of going back just doesn't seem worth it. A few too many showers. Maybe finally working up the courage to go a little deeper on the self investigation....
Maybe Mackie did die in the crash, and this new person gets built out of the wreckage? Already, software patched the gaps, helping her walk and sit and relax in peace. Had anything else been patched?
And what of the wave when it got involved?
She knew what it'd done to her Sister's mind. That's why she had a Sister and not whatever Jet had identified herself as before.
Isn't this all part of of the railroad? Horror. Discomfort. Tolerance. Acceptance. Enjoyment. And then, Mackie's finally allowed to die and be mourned when Gaige Kisaragi usurps his place because she can't bear the thought of ever being him again because she's built her life back up and enjoys it so much.
A terrible thought rang in his mind.
Had her Sister planned this? Something didn't seem right about her earlier. But she wouldn't be like that about it, would she?
Gaige stared, holding her hand in front of her face,
Objectively – judged purely as a machine – it was the better body. Stronger. Faster. Better senses. More efficient on energy and probably capable of running longer if she pushed it. An athlete's body, rather than a teenager's.
Another lure to tempt.
Gaige decided to spend the day in her apartment rather than face the public.
Time to settle in, she told herself. Time to build up the courage to step outside in public again and put on the mask. Time to enjoy a little peace and quiet and just think things through.
The locked door ensured her privacy.
A quick shower washed away Frigga's grime. Already, the mind had begun to adapt, sensations no longer alien, even if they were still wrong. A can of deoderant still taught a painful lesson. She wondered as she dried herself if she'd have to go through the same thing in reverse.
So, that's how it starts another part of her mind whispered. When you get to the point where going through all this discomfort and strangeness again to go back seems worse than just carrying on being Gaige?
She'd never admit to anyone that she tried on a pair of shorts with an extra bundle of socks in the crotch, just to see if it'd feel the same. If anything, it made her feel worse, accentuating the differences while reminding of what wasn't there anymore.
She paced around in the cold air, before finally slipping into a silken nightgown that'd once been her Sister's.
Nothing else. Bare feet crossed the concrete floor.
Sheer silk caressed her skin, cool and soothing as she settled a seat to watch some streams. Her legs crossed, then recrossed themselves, the body finding it's own point of comfort. Gaige couldn't help but admit that she agreed with it on this occasion. A hot cup of coffee, Schwarzmarken on the stream and no bra compressing her chest.
If she had to be like this, she could gladly spend the next few weeks exactly like this.
--
--
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?