Back Machinehood Save as PDF
Chapters (34)
  1. Cover
  2. Publisher’s Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. WELGA
  5. WELGA
  6. WELGA
  7. NITHYA
  8. WELGA
  9. NITHYA
  10. WELGA
  11. WELGA
  12. NITHYA
  13. WELGA
  14. NITHYA
  15. WELGA
  16. WELGA
  17. JOSEPHINE
  18. WELGA
  19. NITHYA
  20. WELGA
  21. WELGA
  22. NITHYA
  23. WELGA
  24. WELGA
  25. NITHYA
  26. WELGA
  27. WELGA
  28. NITHYA
  29. WELGA
  30. WELGA
  31. NITHYA
  32. WELGA
  33. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  34. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

With that out of the way, Nithya pulled up a list of gigs. One day of rating and reviewing items had quenched her enthusiasm for the task. I want myself back on flow, thinking, working, earning. How would she convince Luis? His view on abortion relied on his Catholic faith. Her gods were more practical, weighing the suffering of the parents against that of the unborn. Her government, as well. If she could circumvent the Arizona permission requirement, she could pretend she’d had a miscarriage and all would be well, but she could think of no way around it. Somehow, she had to change her husband’s mind.

Chapter 7 WELGA

6. In the name of freedom of labor, we have left the individual at the mercy of the oligarchy (by which we mean not only the political power holders, but the financial ones). While it’s true that labor can move more freely and more globally than ever before, the availability of work (paid work) has destabilized. We have moved from working your own land to working for a wealthy family all your life to working for a corporation all your life to working years at a time to working half a dozen different small jobs every day.

—The Machinehood Manifesto, March 20, 2095

Welga needed to beat the shit out of somebody. She had one more day in Phoenix, and her body had healed enough to get restless. She took it out on the repurposed mech that squatted in the middle of her father’s backyard. Oscar had loaded it with a simple combat-WAI, and Welga had wrapped padding around its limbs to keep from injuring herself further. Judging by her viewers’ enjoyment, the result was crude but effective.

Her muscles burned as she punched, kicked, and spun around the bot. It didn’t have the controls to attack, but it moved to dodge her blows. A duo-zip worked her reaction time. Sweat soaked her clothes. The fabric did great at cooling and evaporation, but it couldn’t compete with the heat of Phoenix. She’d put her hair up in a tight coil with a black band at her forehead. It didn’t hurt that the updo flattered her neck and shoulders.