Cyberpunk

herself into a computer.”
    I shivered as I stared at the dead man. I could hear myself breathing and feel the blood squirting through my arteries. “Didn’t they turn her off?” I said. This was the kind of stuff we were not even supposed to imagine, much less look at. Too bad they had cleaned him up. “How much did this cost me?”
    “You don’t want to know.”
    “Hey!” Stennie thumped his tail against the side of the car. “I’m taking a quiz here, and you guys are drooling over porn. When was the First World Depression?”
    “Who cares?” I slipped the picture back into the envelope and grinned at Comrade.
    “Well, let me see then.” Stennie snatched the envelope. “You know what I think, Mr. Boy? I think this corpse jag you’re on is kind of sick. Besides, you’re going to get in trouble if you let Comrade keep breaking laws. Isn’t this picture private?”
    “Privacy is twentieth-century thinking. It’s all information, Stennie, and information should be accessible.” I held out my hand. “But if glasnost bothers you, give it up.” I wiggled my fingers.
    Comrade snickered. Stennie pulled out the picture, glanced at it, and hissed. “You’re scaring me, Mr. Boy.”
    His schoolcomm beeped as it posted his score on the quiz, and he sailed the envelope back across the car at me. “Not Venezuela, Vietnam. Hey, Truman dropped the plugging bomb. Reagan was the one who spent all the money. What’s wrong with you dumbscuts? Now I owe school another fifteen minutes.”
    “Hey, if you don’t make it look good, they’ll know you had help.” Comrade laughed.
    “What’s with this dance anyway? You don’t dance.” I picked Comrade’s present up and tucked it into my shirt pocket. “You find yourself a cush or something, lizard boy?”
    “Maybe.” Stennie could not blush, but sometimes when he was embarrassed the loose skin under his jaw quivered. Even though he had been reshaped into a dinosaur, he was still growing up. “Maybe I am getting a little. What’s it to you?”
    “If you’re getting it,” I said, “it’s got to be microscopic.” This was a bad sign. I was losing him to his dick, just like all the other pals. No way I wanted to start over with someone new. I had been alive for twenty-five years now. I was running out of things to say to thirteen-year-olds.
    As the Alpha pulled up to the school, I scoped the crowd waiting for the doors to open for third shift. Although there was a handful of stunted kids, a pair of gorilla brothers who were football stars, and Freddy the Teddy—a bear who had furry hands instead of real paws—the majority of students at New Canaan High looked more or less normal. Most working stiffs thought that people who had their genes twanked were freaks.
    “Come get me at five-fifteen,” Stennie told the Alpha. “In the meantime, take these guys wherever they want to go.” He opened the door. “You rest up, Mr. Boy, okay?”
    “What?” I was not paying attention. “Sure.” I had just seen the most beautiful girl in the world.
    She leaned against one of the concrete columns of the portico, chatting with a couple other kids. Her hair was long and nut-colored and the ends twinkled. She was wearing a loose black robe over mirror skintights. Her schoolcomm dangled from a strap around her wrist. She appeared to be seventeen, maybe eighteen. But of course, appearances could be deceiving.
    Girls had never interested me much, but I could not help but admire this one. “Wait, Stennie! Who’s that?” She saw me point at her. “With the hair?”
    “She’s new—has one of those names you can’t pronounce.” He showed me his teeth as he got out. “Hey, Mr. Boy, you’re stunted. You haven’t got what she wants.”
    He kicked the door shut, lowered his head, and crossed in front of the car. When he walked, he looked like he was trying to squash a bug with each step. His snaky tail curled high behind him for balance, his twiggy little arms dangled. When the new girl saw him, she pointed and smiled. Or maybe she was pointing at me.
    “Where to?” said the car.
    “I don’t know.” I sank low into my seat and pulled out Comrade’s present again. “Home, I guess.”
    I was not the only one in my family with twanked genes. My mom was a three-quarter-scale replica of the Statue of Liberty. Originally she wanted to be full-sized, but then she would have been the tallest thing in New Canaan, Connecticut. The town turned her down when she