Edna Grossbart flipped through the magazine, as her roots sucked in the Clairol Number 2 Aubergine Red. Suddenly, she almost swallowed her cigarette stub. Actually, that's not quite true. The cigarette stub almost swallowed her, she sucked on it so much.
Edna Grossbart is bionic.
Born in 2030, the Company determined that Edna's genetic datastream had medical cancer in the ascendant. With little reason to sponsor her- a sure-fire route to extinction- Edna did what she had to do. She reworked her organ configuration so that the Company would agree to sponsor her.
But Edna did it smartly; she took a boat to the C Island. And came back with a bionic body.
Edna started small: breastplates instead of breasts. Later she went in for the more radical stuff, heart and kidney transplants. By that stage it was an addiction similar to tattoos, one body adjustment led to another.
Edna was no wallflower; when she started something, there was no going back.
And seeing as she was already on the C island, Edna went for the major organs, even those that did not send out the red arrows on the genetic datastream. Edna was after the real stuff, not some third rate synthetic organs. Pedigree organs from the old race, whose extinction was caused by the threat their genetic robustness had posed to the Company.
Of course, those organs were not for sale except on C island. And Edna had some spunk, she knew the bootleggers and had gotten hold of quality heart and some robust kidneys.
She loved the feeling of the heart, its throb, its pulse, its connection to life.
But with the heart came a problem. Suddenly Edna, felt, she desired, she almost wanted to scream out of pain, out of pleasure from her newfound ability to feel pain. And along with that transplant, Edna had found herself in the strange position of wanting, desiring, lusting after bizarre and archaic traditions of the old world, of the old races.
It had started with a penchant for gaudy gold watches. That would have been hard to hide from the Company, who now accepted her genetic datastream despite their suspicions of old race organs.
Luckily the 2055 retro trend for 2030 fashions had hidden her penchant for gaudy gold.
But then another desire surfaced, one so strong and so primal that she could do little to hide it.
It came, apparently from her itty bitty transplanted heart. Clairol Aubergine Red. Number 2. Circa 2035, the last date of the known whereabouts of the old race.
And so it was that Edna Grossbart found herself in the downtown salon, terrified that the spies from the Company would spot her. If the Company would have suspicions that her organs were not synthetic pure stock but from the old races, they would no longer sponsor her. And that would mean death.
As the chemical cocktail of peroxide and hydrogen permeated her cuticles she dwelled on this and sucked harder on her cigarette, not noticing it had almost burnt its way out. That is when she nearly swallowed it.
And that was when she knew she had come too far. That was when Edna Grossbart, bionic woman, started plotting her escape from the Company.
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