Reconfigured

It was an amazing city, Mrosk. Built sometime in the mid-twenty-first century, it was the world's first migratory settlement. It was, in a sense, merely an enormous ship, a single, interconnected raft that could amble across the western shore of greater America. Skyscrapers stood joined at the hip by great truss girders, their swollen bases lashed together by a network of tiny walkways and wires. Elevated train tracks sliced through the length and width of the peanut-shaped city, and aircraft and watercraft buzzed around the surrounding sea and sky, steering clear of the outrider buoy-pistons in the industrial district, which drew electric power from the tossing of the waves.

Sano regarded it all with vague interest. It was a man-made marvel, to be sure, a monument to human ingenuity, but Sano traded in such marvels. He lived and breathed them.

For the hundredth time, Sano admired himself in the mirror. His organic body exuded cleanliness and health, perfectly shaven except for the fraction of an inch that covered his head. From his sharp, plunging jaw line, flat chest and stomach to what he knew was a nicely rounded butt, he was a shining tribute to his sub-Saharan heritage.

And then there was his artificial body. From his shoulders out to his fingers, and from his hips down to the tips of his toes, he was not bone and flesh, but finely manufactured nanofiber. His bionic limbs could have been painted deep coffee-brown to match his skin, but instead they were an immaculate, shiny black, standing out proudly against his natural flesh. With contours that suggested muscle, textured by frictional matte in aesthetically pleasing areas, he was an exemplar of what transhumanism could look like.

That, after all, was his job. He was the son of Ayodele Meditt, the CEO of the world's leading cybernetics firm, and he had taken it upon himself to be a walking symbol of his mother's company and its pride and faith in its products.

"Michaela," he said absently, "remind me of my schedule."

Silence.

"Michaela?"

His new servant hurried to her feet, hastily brushing bleached hair from her face. "Yes, sir? Sorry, sir."

Sano frowned. "My schedule, now."

She stood up stiffly. "As soon as we set down, we're scheduled for seven hours at the Royal Bridge Hotel to get what rest we can. And then... um..." The rooted around in her bag for a moment.

"I'm waiting," said Sano.

Michaela gave up on finding her schedule and resorted to memory. "We leave at nine AM to attend the EcoJuice publicity event to give your lecture."

"Ah, yes." Sano remembered his speech. A tribute to the future, augmentation's many advantages and so on.

"We'll have lunch with the vice president before you attend the opening ceremony for the Low-Sling railway station, and then we have five hours free before we need to return to the airport. For the flight to Vancouver, I mean. But you already knew that." The servant paused. "We land in Mrosk in less than an hour. I suggest you get dressed."

It was a simple matter of pulling on his tasteful, understated silver suit and dress pants that were strategically shortened to show off his bionic legs. He did not bother with ties or textured belts, or anything else that might distract from his physical perfection. He settled into the passenger seat of his private jet, briefly considered flicking on the video screen, then simply turned and watched the great web of human ingenuity that was Mrosk growing in the window.

* * *

Sano settled deeper into his king-sized bed. Sleeping was commonly thought of as one of the main drawbacks to being augmented; transhumans traditionally removed their augmentations before bed, which left them barely mobile. It was an odd, frustrating sensation, and one to which Sano, thankfully, was immune. His artificial limbs fit neatly enough to sleep in, and had been softened in key places that prevented him from tearing the sheets as he moved-- not that it would be difficult to replace them if he did. Only his shorts and undershirt separated his skin from the sheets.

Sano felt his covers moving. Part of his mind awoke, just enough to become aware of the cool blue room with its five-meter-high ceiling and the grand picture window to his right, slid open to let in the cool ocean breeze.

The covers shifted more. In his dreamlike state, he could think only to grab them with one hand and pull them back, but then they lifted away entirely.

Something warm touched him. His foggy vision showed a thin, curved shadow with short, smooth-cut black hair descending over him. Warmth touched his shoulders and ran down his arms. Hot air caressed his neck. The bed shifted beneath him as the shadow leaned its weight on its knees, straddling his hips. Gracefully, it leaned down, careful fingers cradling his chin, and lips touched his. Any impulse to resist died as Sano felt a tongue push its way into his mouth, careful pressure keeping his lips sealed. Then he felt something small, hard and smooth fall into his mouth. Without thinking, he swallowed.

The kiss ended. The shadow lifted away, some weight pressing down pleasingly on Sano's groin, but his senses began to fade. His head felt heavy, and when he felt the impulse to move his arms, the limbs barely did anything.

Worry infected him. Sano should have woken up with a start and sat bolt upright, but even as he began to panic, he only slipped deeper into torpor.

The shadow threw off his sheets, wrapping its arms around his waist. He barely felt its touch. As she picked him up and hauled him gently to the window, he heard a female voice mutter, "Nice and light. I guess those robot arms are mass-efficient after all."

Sano's lips could not move. He could breathe and do nothing else as the shadow stood up in the moonlight that streamed in through the window, revealing itself as a woman in cargo pants and a tank top, black lipstick matching her hair. Pulling something from a utility belt, she wound a thick strap around Sano's torso, diagonally from shoulder to hip, then crisscrossed it before enwrapping his waist two times. With a rope attached to the straps, she reached out and tied him to something he couldn't see. Even his eyes had difficulty focusing now.

"That's good," the woman whispered. "Haul him out. Move the crane slow, though. We've got plenty of time." Her hand slapped his cheek playfully. "He's not going anywhere."

The world swam as some irresistible force pulled Sano across the floor and, assisted by the woman's strong hands, up through the window. He dangled in midair, limp and useless, and was vaguely aware that he was going down. A minute later, the ground rocked beneath him-- he had no idea when he had reached the ground-- and his vision began to bloom and splash into nothing. The last thing he was aware of was a quartet of faces peering down at him. Female voices held a conversation he could not hear.

* * *

His hearing came back first. He heard the mumbling of subdued voices set against the overbearing grind of some distant machine.

He looked around, head swimming. He lay on a cheap, reclining lawn chair that was welded to the floor, in a room lined with portable computers surrounded by wireless peripheral devices-- a slapdash setup. Sano tried to get up, but his legs went straight through the chair. Looking down, he realized, to his horror, that they hadn't; his legs were not attached. He tried to flex his arms, but they were gone as well.

Fear brought him back to his senses. He saw his limbs strewn haphazardly on a desk and chair across the room, hooked up to wires feeding into one of the computers. Beside it, a cluster of eight people chatted.

One of them turned, her black bob-cut hair swaying slightly. "Ah," she said, "Our little rich boy has come around. I knew that sleeping pill wasn't too strong, even for you." She chortled. "I've never met an easier kisser."

Putting it together, Sano did his best to steel his expression. "You've made a big mistake," he strained out through stiff lips. "You think you're the first person who's ever tried to ransom someone rich? The minute you contact anyone who knows me, they'll have you pinpointed."

The black-haired woman tipped her head up, smirking down her nose at him. "That shows what you know. We're not going to ransom you."

Sano glared at her, silently demanding an explanation.

The black-haired woman removed her left arm from behind her back and displayed a gnarled hand. Her thumb ended at what should have been a knuckle, and her index and ring fingers were fused together. "You strut your cybernetics as if they were toys-- toys just for you and your rich cronies. If you knew how lucky you were to have normal arms and legs, you wouldn't have had them hacked off just so you could replace them with that overpriced junk you're wearing."

"Transhumanism is the future!"

"Your future, you mean. Start mass-marketing your little showpieces, and maybe I'd be more sympathetic. For now, I'm about to show you just how vulnerable your modifications have really made you."

Two other women appeared beside the black-haired one. One was a brown-haired girl who looked barely out of her teen years, staring at Sano with wide eyes and a mouth that hung open. A tall, thin woman stood on the other side, her pure white longcoat matching her white-dyed hair. Her hands planted on her hips, she stared disapprovingly down at Sano with her left eye while her right eye hid behind a monocle display screen.

"Tami, I assume your test is ready?" said the black-haired woman.

The tall white-haired woman stepped back, tapping her monocle to clear the screen. The brunette bounced on her toes, her gaze shifting between Sano and the black-haired woman, then she hurried over to the others at the edge of the room as they brought Sano's limbs over.

A burly man with a 3d-interface glove gave a dismissive hand signal, and the mousy people holding Sano's limbs arranged themselves around his chair. Hands gripped his collarbone and clamped down on his ribs. The black-haired woman watched with a sickle-shaped smile as Sano's limbs were twisted into position and latched into place, the force shoving his body back and forth. Finally, the hands came away.

Sano tested his limbs. He stood up. All eight people, urchins and operatives, techs and criminals, watched him expectantly. "You gave me my limbs back," he said, flexing his fingers in front of his eyes. "Your mistake."

"Actually," said the black-haired woman, smugly folding her arms. "They're not your limbs anymore. Tami, run the program."

Tami brought up a wrist computer and tapped the screen a few times. "Initializing," she said, as she watched Sano with bored, half-lidded eyes.

Sano's artificial limbs froze. He flexed his muscles, but the limbs did not move. His nerve impulses went unheeded.

The brunette grew a bright grin. "It worked! It worked! Tami, you did it!"

"You see," said the black-haired woman, "we've reprogrammed them. They may be attached to you, but those limbs obey us." She turned to Tami. "You can start the demonstration any time."

Tami's icy face dimpled with a smile, and she gave her screen a few more taps.

Sano's limbs moved on their own. His hands came down to his sides, fingers twitching as if seeking his own body, until they got a grip on his thighs. While his legs stayed rock-still, refusing his impulses to run, his fingers slipped beneath his undershirt. Sano watched those fingers-- his fingers, he insisted to himself-- as they slowly peeled his shirt up.

Sano looked up to see the whole crew watching him. Tami briefly glanced down at her wrist computer, but then quickly back up, her eyes narrow and intent. The brunette shifted her weight feverishly, biting her lip. Behind them, the girls whispered excitedly to each other, and even the males looked interested. At the center of them all, the black-haired woman only folded her arms and smirked.

Sano twitched the muscles in his upper torso, trying to stop his arms. He bent over, trying to make himself fall, but his right foot stepped forward and caught his balance.

'An independent correctional balance algorithm,' thought Sano. 'Amazing.'

The shirt came up over Sano's eyes, covering his face for a moment, until it came completely off. With a flick of its artificial wrist, his left arm smartly discarded the shirt in a corner. Sano kept bending over, trying to outsmart his limbs' new sense of balance, but Tami tapped a few commands, and Sano's left arm shot back to grab a pipe that ran along the wall behind him, then flexed its elbow, pulling irresistibly until Sano straightened up, trapped against the wall. He tried to use his core to lift his legs, but could only make them twitch. His ankles easily corrected.

The black-haired woman smiled. "Come on, Tami, don't keep us waiting."

"The whole thing?" Tami's thin white eyebrows rose. "As you wish."

Sano felt his limbs moving again, and this time they attacked his shorts, thumbs slipping easily under the waistline. Unable to move his legs to stop them, his hands shoved his shorts down, slipping them past his thighs to the ground.

Sano closed his eyes, but knew he could do nothing to hide his dangling, flaccid cock from all the prying eyes.

With a sly grin, the brunette elbowed Tami gently in the side. When she had Tami's attention, she stood on her toes and whispered into the taller woman's ear.

"I did," said Tami smugly. "Now watch this."

Another series of impulses possessed his limbs, and Sano's stance splayed while his arms rose above his head. In an eye-blink, his feet switched places, and his knees began to bend to rhythm. His legs shifted him, and his arms twisted in an intricate pattern over his head, then around his body, his fingers lightly trailing down his sides, across his abs and over his tense butt.

Sano put it all together, and his fear turned into shame. 'I'm Dancing,' he thought. 'They're making me dance for them like a low-rent stripper.'

The dance picked up energy, his hips thrusting side to side as his arms made dynamic swishes and slices around him. He hung helplessly, suspended by his hips and shoulders, as his body displayed itself for these riffraff, throwing him from one revealing pose to another, until finally his legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, arms clasped unbreakably behind his back.

The black-haired woman raised her hands and clapped, and the rest of the onlookers broke out in raucous applause. To Sano's relief, most of them weren't looking at him or his nakedness, but staring admiringly up at Tami.

"That's enough," said the black-haired woman, stepping up to Sano. Taking his chin between her good thumb and forefinger, she tipped him up to face her, considered him for a moment, then kissed him. It was a quick peck on the lips, over before it began.

"I would bite you," Sano said calmly, "but you're not worth it."

"I assure you," said the black-haired woman, "I am. Don't you recognize me?"

"Scum are never invited to my events."

"I wouldn't have come anyway. I am everywhere in this city. Anything is mine to take, including you." She turned around. "I am the Spider."

The Spider. Sano had heard that name every time he heard about this city. He had read it in police reports he now wished he had paid more attention to. One quote that had stuck in his mind claimed that the mayor owned the top half of the city, and Spider owned the bottom half.

That was as far as his thoughts went before two heavy-set men emerged from the audience and hefted Sano to his feet. They muscled him out of the room, down a narrow hallway floored with a flimsy catwalk that shifted under his feet, its walls bordered by pipes that crowded his sides offensively.

Silently, the men opened a door to makeshift cell and pitched Sano in, causing him to roll painfully. His face was pressed against a corner when he heard the door slam shut.

Sano moved his head to look around. Above, pipes ran in a tapering shaft that presumably led to a building somewhere. Below, a grate floor suspended Sano above an abyss that led all the way down to the ocean. Sano could hear the waves echoing up against the metal.

Sano flexed his shoulders, trying to move his stiff, useless arms, eventually rolling himself onto his back. He saw a bed off to his side, clearly there as a taunt to his sudden disability. He did his best to sleep.

* * *

Sano woke up, sore but rested. Sitting up, he palmed his eyes, then gave a start-- his arms were working again. His hands worked. He flexed his fingers in front of him, then his toes, knees and thighs, and to his delight, every inch of his body worked as well as they had the day his limbs emerged from the custom manufactory.

His limbs must have automatically performed a hard reset, he concluded. And the program that had controlled them hadn't survived the reboot.

Sano grinned. Those ignorant street trash were mistaken if they thought they could contain him. Reaching a hand into the grating, he pinched with his fingers. Delicate though his hands were, they were backed by superhuman strength, and the grate deformed. In a few more places, Sano pinched the bars, until finally the grate floor buckled enough that it left an opening against the edge of the shaft.

Without hesitation, Sano gripped a pipe on the wall and began to shimmy down, trying to keep his bare flesh from touching the cold metal. Half a foot at a time, he made his way down the shaft, deeper into the bowels of the city's infrastructure, not looking down and not fearing the drop.

When he found a hallway leading out of the shaft, he did not hesitate to duck in. His shoeless feet pounded on the sheet-metal floor, so disturbingly hollow, until he found his way into a lightless room where some unidentifiable noise filled the air.

Sano felt his way through, the pressure receptors on his mechanical fingertips giving him better feedback than biological ones ever could. The noise began to resolve into music. Electronic music bumped and warbled through the air, the echo against the metal walls slurring it into a mess.

Something smashed into the small of Sano's back. He staggered forward, turning around just in time to see a small figure press into him. An arm hooked over his shoulder, a leg slipped behind his, and they pulled in opposite directions, flipping Sano onto his back. His neck muscles zinged as they kept his head from hitting the ground. Pain scrambled his senses.

Above him, Sano heard a button click. He tried to get up, but his legs were comatose. He pulled on his arms, trying to get them to move, but they lay limp and useless. "No!" he growled, "no, no, no!"

Above him stood a short, brown-haired woman with eyes full of delight. "I got you!" she crowed, bouncing on her toes. "I got you! I did it!"

Sano recognized the voice of the Spider's brown-haired minion. "What did you do to me?"

"I got my leg behind you, like this, see?" She mimed the movement. "And then I just twisted, and you tripped over me!"

"Not that, you idiot! My limbs! What did you do to them?"

She held up a tablet. "Tami gave me the 'off' switch for your robot parts! All I have to do is push this..." she tapped her screen. "And you switch on and off."

Sano regained control of his limbs. With a roar, he stood up and charged at the woman.

"Oh, no you don't!" She slipped to the side and tapped the screen again, causing Sano's limbs to lock up, and he tumbled painfully to the floor, nearly cracking his skull on a ridge in the wall. "Ha!" she squeaked. "I knew you'd do that!"

Sano groaned.

"Good show, Kena, good show," said a new voice, but also a familiar one. Light filled the room, and the dark, sharp figure of the Spider stepped in, an easygoing smile on her tight face. She looked at Sano. "When I switched your augmentations back on, I knew you'd escape, but I assumed you'd go up, not down. When the tracker told me you were going that way, I thought for just a moment you might stay ahead of us. But Kena had you."