Welga opened and closed her mouth three times before coming up with an answer that didn’t make her sound like an asshole. “Natural, I guess. I don’t feel like I’ve turned into someone—or something—else. I’m still me, just different.” She scratched the back of her neck. “The hardest thing was learning not to talk to my agent, but I’m used to it now. Thinking to her is much more efficient. The worst part is knowing that the station council has control over my body.”

“That’s—I didn’t know. You’re their hostage.”

“In a way. Every dakini has a built-in fail-safe. Until enough of us exist, it’s a safety measure for the rest of you. I suppose I could stay on Earth and have all the changes reversed, but I suspect I wouldn’t live a long and happy life after that. Those red flags from my medical exam? They turned out to be serious. I’ll always have the choice, though, if I decide I can’t stand this body for some reason.” Welga gazed up at Olafson. “The next step in technological advancement… we’ve always pushed for more communication, better control over our bodies, greater knowledge. The whole mech movement that our parents suffered through was a shitty attempt at what Ao Tara and her people have succeeded at. Maybe the al-Muwahhidun, too. What if I really can be an ambassador to a new society, a better way of life? It’s happened before, when the world moved from monarchies to democracies, or even in ancient history, going from hunter-gatherers to farmers. It could happen again. Maybe we can even convince the caliph to open his borders.”

“The world has already changed. If nothing else, Ao Tara accomplished that much,” Olafson said. “Machine rights protesters are registering to attack government officials rather than funders. The balance of power has shifted. Bot sanctuary donations are up. People will go back to their regular lives, but here, around DC, we can’t stop talking about the dakini and what the stations will do to humanity.”

“I think they’re over doing things to the planet, though perhaps we can do some good for it.”

The cab would like to know if we intend to leave.

“Sorry, time’s up,” Welga said.

“It’s been an honor, Ramírez.” Olafson extended his hand. “Thank you for your service.”

Welga took it and squeezed. The Buddha might not have been perfect, but he knew one truth about life: everything in the world is changeable.