Cyberpunk

again.”
    Nancy retreated into the fortress of her pillows. “Good-bye, sister,” she said and closed her eyes. “Pray for me.”
    “Right,” Zoranna said. “Fine.” She turned to leave but paused at the door where the cartons of heirlooms were stacked. “I’ll send someone down for these,” she said, although she wasn’t sure if she even wanted them. Bug , she tongued, call the hotel concierge.
    There was no reply.
    Bug? She glanced at her belt to confirm that the valet was still active.
    Allow me to introduce myself , said a deep, melodious voice in her ear. I’m Nicholas, and I’m at your service.
    Who? Where’s Bug?
    Bug no longer exists , said the voice. It successfully completed its imprinting and fashioned an interface persona—that would be me—based upon your personal tastes.
    Whoever you are, this isn’t the time , Zoranna tongued. Get off the line.
    I’ve notified the concierge and arranged for shipping , said Nicholas. And I’ve booked a first-class car for you and Nancy to the Cozumel clinic.
    So Bug had finally converted, and at just the wrong time. In case you haven’t been paying attention, Nick , she tongued, Nancy’s not coming .
    Nonsense , chuckled Nicholas. Knowing you, you’re bound to have some trick up your sleeve.
    This clearly was not Bug. Well, you’re wrong. I’m plumb out of ideas. Only a miracle could save her.
    A miracle, of course. Brilliant! You’ve done it again, Zoe. One faux miracle coming right up.
    There was a popping sound. The votive cups were replenished with large, fat candles that ignited one by one of their own accord. Nancy glanced at them and glowered suspiciously at Zoranna.
    You don’t really expect her to fall for this , Zoranna tongued.
    Why not? She thinks you’re locked out of the houseputer, remember? Besides, Nancy believes in miracles.
    Thunder suddenly drummed in the distance. Roses perfumed the air. And Saint Camillus de Lellis floated out of his picture frame, gaining size, hue, and dimension, until he stood a full, fleshy man on a roiling cloud in the middle of the room.
    It was a good show, but Nancy wasn’t even watching. She watched Zoranna instead, letting her know she knew it was all a trick.
    I told you , Zoranna tongued.
    The saint looked at Zoranna, and his face flickered. For a moment, it was her mother’s face. Her mother appeared young, barely twenty, the age she was when she bore her. Taken off-guard, Zoranna startled when her mother smiled adoringly at her, as she must have smiled thousands of times at her first baby. Zoranna shook her head and looked away. She felt ambushed and not too pleased about it.
    When Nancy saw this, however, she turned to examine the saint. There was no telling what or who she saw, but she gasped and struggled out of her recliner to kneel at his feet. She was bathed in a holy aura, and the room dimmed around her. After long moments of silent communion, the saint pointed to his forehead. Nancy, horror-struck, turned to stare at Zoranna, and the apparition ascended, shrank, and faded into the ceiling. The candles extinguished themselves, one by one, and vanished from the cups.
    Nancy rose and gently tugged Zoranna to the recliner, where she made her lie down. “Don’t move,” she whispered. “Here’s a pillow.” She carefully raised Zoranna’s head and slid a pillow under it. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, Zoe?” She felt Zoranna’s forehead with her palm. “And I thought you went through this before.”
    Zoranna took her sister’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. Her hand was warm. Indeed, Nancy’s whole complexion was flush with color, as though the experience had released some reserve of vitality. “I know. I guess I haven’t been paying attention,” Zoranna said. “Please take me to the clinic now.”
    “Of course,” said Nancy, standing and retrieving her walker. “I’ll just pack a few things.” Nancy hurried to the bedroom, but the walker impeded her progress, so she flung it away. It went clattering into the kitchen.
    Zoranna closed her eyes and draped her arms over her head. “I must say, Bug . . . Nick, I’m impressed. Why didn’t I think of that?”
    “Why indeed,” Nicholas said in his marvelous voice. “It’s just the sort of sneaky manipulation you so excel at.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Zoranna opened her eyes and looked at a handsome, miniature man projected in the air next to her head. He wore a stylish leisure jacket