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Peter Watts 245 Blindsight<br />

He was wrong on both counts. And at least Szpindel had died<br />

knowing that Michelle cared for him.<br />

Chelsea died thinking I just didn't give a shit.<br />

It had been two years or more, and while we still interfaced<br />

occasionally we hadn't met in the flesh since the day she'd left. She<br />

came at me from right out of the Oort, sent an urgent voice<br />

message to my inlays: Cygnus. Please call NOW. It's important.<br />

It was the first time since I'd known her that she'd ever blanked<br />

the optics.<br />

I knew it was important. I knew it was bad, even without<br />

picture. I knew because there was no picture, and I could tell it<br />

was worse than bad from the harmonics in her voice. I could tell it<br />

was lethal.<br />

I found out afterwards that she'd gotten caught in the crossfire.<br />

The Realists had sown a fibrodysplasia variant outside the Boston<br />

catacombs; an easy tweak, a single-point retroviral whose results<br />

served both as an act of terrorism and an ironic commentary on the<br />

frozen paralysis of Heaven's occupants. It rewrote a regulatory<br />

gene controlling ossification on Chromosome 4, and rigged a<br />

metabolic bypass at three loci on 17.<br />

Chelsea started growing a new skeleton. Her joints were<br />

calcifying within fifteen hours of exposure, her ligaments and<br />

tendons within twenty. By then they were starving her at the<br />

cellular level, trying to slow the bug by depriving it of metabolites,<br />

but they could only buy time and not much of it. Twenty-three<br />

hours in, her striated muscles were turning to stone.<br />

I didn't find this out immediately, because I didn't call her back.<br />

I didn't need to know the details. I could tell from her voice that<br />

she was dying. Obviously she wanted to say goodbye.<br />

I couldn't talk to her until I knew how to do that.<br />

I spent hours scouring the noosphere, looking for precedents.<br />

There's no shortage of ways to die; I found millions of case records<br />

dealing with the etiquette. Last words, last vows, instruction<br />

manuals for the soon-to-bereaved. Palliative neuropharm.<br />

Extended and expository death scenes in popular fiction. I went<br />

*

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