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He was about to apologise when he noticed the black alligator skin case. Those phones were creepy. That was the first time he really felt it. The thing sat in her hands like some kind of huge black slug, its tendrils stretching up into her ears. No, he thought, not a slug. A wasp nest.

He tried to swallow with a dry mouth. «Sorry," he attempted a smile.

The girl raised an eyebrow. «It's alright.»

«Cool phone," he offered. Suspicion flashed across her face. She probably thought he was a paedophile. «I was thinking of getting one for my daughter's birthday. Do you know where I can get one of those?»

It was a pathetic lie. He could tell she didn't believe him. Palpably, a tiny pulse throbbed in his neck. His shirt collar felt tight. And yet he couldn't take his eyes off the phone. It was almost as if he could feel it staring back at him, the camera lens forming a single eye in the middle of its head.

Then suddenly his blood ran cold.

It blinked.

He staggered back, crashing into a copy of the Financial Times. The paper collapsed on impact, crumpling in on itself as he fell into the lap of a red–faced man.

«Bloody idiot! Look where you're going.»

The girl with the phone was glaring at him, her face slack, her eyes dead. From her ear a single drop of dark red blood rolled down into her shirt collar. In his head the image of the wasp nest formed again. He could feel it clamping around his chest, choking him. Jerking to his feet, he pushed his way down the aisle, slowly at first, but then elbowing people out of his way. Oily sweat gushed out of his pores. His stomach was turning over.

Around him, passengers shuffled towards the exit, clearing space. With a flash, the train burst out into the light of the first stop. He was aware of the bodies flowing around him as people maneuvered out onto the platform. Darting after them, he jumped down, parting the crowd of people waiting to board.

Clutching his bag tight against his chest, he leaned against the wall of the platform, then slowly slid down into a ball. He clamped his eyes shut. It wasn't possible. There was no way that was real. His body trembled with a febrile shock. He grasped the satchel ever more tightly, rolling on his heels, trying to soothe the panic.

«Are you okay?» It was a woman's voice.

James blinked open his eyes to see her delicate face framed by her long pink hair, her eyes smiling at him sadly. His brain stalled. The silence between them drowned out the noise of the station. When he finally spoke, his throat was dry and cracked. «That wasn't a phone.»

He was sure she'd think he was insane. He'd been living alone for too long. His hand was shaking uncontrollably as he reached his hand out and touched her face. He needed this. She pressed his hand against her cheek.

She shook her head slowly. «They know who you are now.»

<p>paulalexgray Infusion</p>

At the magistrate's command the silver walls shimmered and shifted. The translucent intellipolymer glass revealed a sweeping vista. Light spilled over the robotic assistants that swarmed around the client. Morgan Velt nodded his grizzled head and croaked a comment.

«At my first infusion this planet was a wasteland. And now look at it! Glory be to the human race.»

«You have created a paradise for our people.» Said the magistrate as he adjusted the controls.

A doorway opened and the clone was brought in. Naked and trembling he was half dragged by two guards. Blood dripped from his nose and his left eye was swollen and blackened. The magistrate gasped in surprise.

«What is this?» He shouted.

«Infusee put up a fight your honour. Had to subdue him.»

«This is an outrage!» Hacked Morgan as a robot wiped blood from his lips. «My new body should be pristine, not beaten like a dog.»

The clone stood and stared out to the room. Through his one good eye he marvelled at the sunlight outside, the first he had ever seen. Until now his existence had been in the depths of the building. Each day filled with demanding physical rigour designed to condition his body to the strongest possible level. And now, the clone knew his time was coming to an end. Today was his infusion, where his life would end and where the client's would begin anew.

The doctor beckoned to the medbed beside Morgan's. Above the jagged looking stamen of the Infusion device hung, a cable riddled needle that would at once wipe his consciousness from his mind and infuse the soul of Morgan.

«Magnificent.» Said Morgan and the clone looked to him. He recognised himself in the withered face. A reflection through time.

«Well done magistrate. The specimen is perfect. Even if your guards were over zealous.»

«We aim to please. We shall begin. We look forward to welcoming you into your new body.»

«Excellent.» He chuckled. «I look forward to celebrating my five hundredth. In this form I'll be able to enjoy it a lot more!»

The guards moved the clone forward, one of them barking a harsh command.

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