Fugue for Forgetfulness
By Ronald D. Ferguson
The first injection is easy, a hodgepodge cocktail to soften my genes, to make my DNA pliable for the nano incursion. The needle stings, and the IV marches the tiny engineers into my bloodstream. Icy tendrils crawl inside my arm and echo the cold invasion.
My mind drifts much as I have drifted through my life, letting circumstances and other people’s choices mold me. Now my research, my esoteric equations incarnate, drip from the IV into my bloodstream, and I . . . drift with them. I allow the nano-biotics to control who I am to become.
Over the coming year, these rampaging miniatures will reshape me to match my destined environment. Nature did not design humans to survive a quarter kilometer beneath the ocean surface, but I agreed to new genetic blueprints.