Animal Systems

By Zoe Cannon

She used to be a soldier. Then anti-technology fanatics captured her and ripped her implants from her body. Without them, now she's nothing but a two-legged animal.

 

A weak animal, with only the strength of her organic flesh. An ignorant animal, with only the information from her organic senses. A rabid animal, with uncontrolled neurochemicals flooding her organic brain with emotions and desires.

 

Emotions like rage. Desires like vengeance.

 

But she lost something else along with her implants. Something more important than her strength and her perceptions and her human reason. And only her captors can help her find it again.

 

This short story is 6800 words long. It can also be found in Digital Flesh, a science fiction short story collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zoe Cannon
• Release date: Jun 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215359600

Book preview

Animal Systems

Zoe Cannon

© 2023 Zoe Cannon

http://www.zoecannon.com

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Animal Frequency

I knew it was nighttime when one of the two-legged animals brought me food. That was what we used to call them, the ones without tech. Animals, because all they had was their lonely animal flesh, their messy animal instincts.

The animal smiled and said words I didn’t understand, because I had forgotten how to listen without my translator chip. It held out the plate to me. The plate held a stinking slab of meat on a plate, with wilted greens next to it.

I took it. Then I threw it in the animal’s face. That was what animals did, and I was an animal now too. Now that they had stripped everything from me but the mess of organic blood and bone I was born with. I was a squalling baby. I was something feral.

The animal wiped stinking meat juice from its eyes. It made soothing noises and said more words. I screeched and rushed for the door.

The animal made a sad face and ducked outside. It closed the door quickly. The locks slid back into place with heavy thunks, one by one.

I threw the meat around some more. Then I shoveled it into my mouth, and the greens too, because my body was hungry. Hunger was weakness. It was an embarrassment. It was a reminder of the violation my captors had put me through. I used to have a sophisticated system integrated with my organic digestion. It would pull nutrients in from my environment through my pores, enough to keep me going indefinitely. Mouth-food was for gluttons who couldn’t control themselves.

Now that was me. I licked up the last of the juices from the filthy floor, which was sticky with remnants of past meals and my own bodily fluids. It was gritty like dirt and smelled