Fiction Fix Seventeen

“So you think you’ve got immortality wired,” said Sasha,
always the skeptic except when she was in bed. “And
you don’t even believe in souls.”
“Not that kind,” said Justin. “I’ve got more practical ideas,
more ambitious. I just wish I’d figured it out sooner, how to
capture me for eternity before now. I mean, my soul will be
missing its first 24 years.”
This wasn’t the first time Justin had sounded grandiose,
thought Sasha, and she let it slide. After four tempestuous
months together, she grudgingly admitted to herself that one
of the attractions of this relationship was Justin’s techno-mysticism;
his detailed plan slightly aroused her.
“The gear’s all there—the temple-mounted Minicams, the
micro audio samplers, the giga storage that’ll fit on my thumbnail,”
said Justin. “And of course you can edit the hell out of
it over beers, and we’ll even shoot that, too, the editing.”
“We? Who is we?”
“I can’t run the cameras only by myself. I mean, like, my
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