Sitting back in my chair, I look at the paper on the table; my handwriting doesn't have the elegant curves they would expect from a girl:
Innocence. To know the meaning of the word is to know that you no longer have it. And for those who believe remaining human is to remain innocent are flat out wrong. When given the opportunity to extend your life through Transposition, is it really a choice? If everyone you know to be talented, ambitious, or just plain smart, has chosen to extend life by leaving their organic body behind, is it still a question for you to decide? or is it just the matter of finding the means to join them?
The eerily human-like voice of the transposed man behind me is sterile as he places a picture on the table, "Look at this. I require your consent."
The diagram shows a female’s silhouette. The head, chest and crotch have spheres in the body that look to be tethering an energy field into a figure-eight. The sphere on the head has a warning sign attached to it.
The formality of his voice implies some sort of contractual obligation, "The contents of this Cerebral contain formational memories within the sequential blocks written by its host. Once experienced, the impressions will be permanent. The manner in which they are known cannot be unknown. By proceeding, you are doing so under your own free will, and thus your insignia of consent is assumed. Do you agree?"
I take another look around the operating room as I step into the device. My head / wrists are shackled. I can only listen to his bureaucratic tone, purposely void of emotion, “Now, this is very important. I am going to give you a three-digit code. You Must remember it. You will use this code to indicate your own recollection of you. Transposition can affect some people differently. You can think of this as your safety code. Your code will be____ Zero__ Zero__ Zero."
"Zero Zero Zero? Are you serious? Anyone can remember that."
"It's not a test. It's more of a marker. A joining to yourself at this moment in time. Say it again____ your code."
"Zero Zero Zero."
"Good. Let me ask you this___ what is zero plus zero?"
On the verge of being irritated I oblige, "Zero."
"Right. You can use these various techniques to make sure you remember it."
"Zero plus zero equals zero? I don't need a trick to remember something that simple."
"It's all about remembering, especially when confused. You will not be you unless you remember who you are."
Taking my note from the table, he rolls it up, placing into a small cylinder while explaining, "This tube has a Verican Black Seal. It is encrypted. You must be the one to unseal it. If it is given to you already unsealed then you should consider it null. Untrustworthy. Do you have any questions?"
"How long is this supposed to take?"
"Time will be of no concern to you. What you perceive as a duration is actually relative. Its rate depends on a perspective."
"I'm just asking how long it's going to take."
"It is better you let go this notion. Do you count the number of breaths you take?"
"That's because you perceive the air your organs need to breathe as being infinite. It's just something you happen to consume during your life. Time is primarily important to only those who are human, because they have a very limited portion of it. Once transposed, your notion of time is completely different. What is your code?"
"Zero Zero Zero."
"Would you like another example of how I can help you remember your code?"
"In your case, the inability to recall your code will be an indication of something very wrong. Once again."
"Listen. I got it. Zero Zero Zero. Let's get this going."