Andromeda’s New Brain Part 1
THREE MONTHS, TWENTY-FOUR days, and seventeen hours ago, I died.
When the hovercraft crashed with me and my parents inside, my brain was destroyed. The doctors put me on life support: a jungle of tubes and wires telling my body when to eat, breathe, and pump blood. I became a vegetable, lying motionless on a hovertrolley, unaware that my parents—and all my memories of them—were gone.
I stayed like that for a week, until a three-inch metal cube arrived at the hospital’s shipping dock. My new brain.
My new brain came with other new things. A new surname, since my grandfather was my official guardian now. A new town, high in the Chubu Mountains of the Koreapan Peninsula. A new school, with lots of new friends—at least, I thought they would be my friends.
My new
