379 lines
21 KiB
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379 lines
21 KiB
Plaintext
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO
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OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO"
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OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
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OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO"
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OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO'
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OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
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|---------------------------------------------------------------------------|
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| There Ain't No Justice |
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| #122 |
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|---------------------------------------------------------------------------|
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- Metamorph -
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Chapter 05
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by Arifel
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V
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It is respectable to have no illusions,
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and safe and profitable, and dull.
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Joseph Conrad
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we didn't converse at all on the return journey, until we approached the
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point where we'd seen the neutrino-sources.
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`do you want to drop out of warp and check them out?' Lydya asked. I
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thought for a moment, then replied,
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`no. firstly, we have no idea how powerful they are. secondly, if they
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examine us and think we're typical humans - despite what they've
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observed so far - they'll know we've gone way beyond the bounds of their
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Edicts. if they can't damage us, they'll certainly do some damage to
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the rest of humanity. thirdly...' i paused. `thirdly, i want to have
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some goddamn fun before i have to start thinking about overthrowing an
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evil galactic empire. i want to go back to earth. i want to lie in the
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sun on a tropical beach. i want to make a shitload of money and give it
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all away to some charity. i want to freak out some straights.'
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`well, i can't argue with that. hey, over there - ' she pointed. an
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asteroid, roughly banana-shaped, about three kilometres across its
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narrowest axis. i grinned; it would make a good test subject for my
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mining machines. i dropped out of warp and jetted closer. it rotated
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slowly, distant sunlight creeping across jagged edges.
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this was, to me, a familiar pattern; when confronted with a painful
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truth or a nasty situation, i'd occupy my mind with something else.
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i'd built a prototype sculptor, tangled in my hair like a flea; i shook
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it loose and activated it with a brief nanogravitic pulse. it hung in
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space before me, turning slowly, legs wiggling like a new-born
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butterfly. as soon as its head found the asteroid, a blue spark appeared
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at the tip of one leg and it vanished. my mass-sense tracked it zipping
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towards the asteroid; enhanced vision saw it approach, turn over and
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hit, travelling at about three meters per second. as soon as it touched
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down, it sank into the asteroid and was gone. together, we'd refined the
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design until the replication time was now ninety-five minutes. they'd
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have to chew away about one-third of the mass before it could be made
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cubical, say, ten thousand million tonnes. with each sculptor weighing
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exactly 0.08 of a gram, that would take one hundred and twenty-five
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thousand million million of them, and because of their low mass, it
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would be just over ninety hours before they'd multiplied enough to
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consume that much mass. i didn't want to wait around here that long, but
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Lydya wanted to see them working, so we hung in space for almost four
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days, watching the jagged creases smooth out, watching the elongated
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horns of the asteroid slowly erode. we received chatty telemetry from
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the neural net once it was up; at one point, when it started requesting
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additional information, i thought we'd gone and created a new
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intelligent, gestalt lifeform. we sent it some software updates, and
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after that it restricted its thoughts to sculpting.
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it was almost ninety-one hours before the final shape emerged; up to the
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point where the sculptors swarmed, it appeared to be a fuzzy, dark grey
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cube. then we received a final signal from the net, and the swarm of
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sculptors lifted away from the surface. before, where there'd been a
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boring grey asteroid, there was now a glittering cube, intricate designs
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etched into the sides in copper. one day, an astronomer with a good
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telescope and a knowledge of the films of Clive Barker was going to get
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one hell of a shock.
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the sculptors clustered together into a single, cloudy lump, like a
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piece of cotton wool in a glass of water, and turned. we felt gravitic
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pulses as it searched for a new target; it found one almost immediately.
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pale blue fire flickered along one side of the cloud, and it slowly
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drifted away. we followed it until we saw its target, a potato-like
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lump nine kilometres across. my back-brain came back with the figures:
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shape would require consumption of six point two percent of the total
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mass of which was approximately six hundred and thirty-five million
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million grams, which could be eaten away in a matter of minutes by the
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huge number of sculptors currently active. when their number reached
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three hundred thousand million million, they would divide into two
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groups. i suddenly had a vision of the solar system in a year's time,
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with hundreds of clouds of sculptors flying back and forth, searching
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for asteroids to convert into cubes. my final update to their software
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ordered the swarm to divide into two groups; ten percent of them would
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stay on, scouting the asteroid belt for potential cubes. the other
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ninety percent would plot a course for earth and, on the way, build
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themselves into a kind of silicon foam-bubble material, each sculptor
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taking apart its neighbour and packing it into the shape of an anvil the
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size of a bus.
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we followed the swarm until the first anvil formed. it looked evil,
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menacing, and very heavy; it was about eighty-five percent vacuum and
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would sink through the atmosphere slowly, settling wherever it fell like
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a house made of polystyrene foam. if it fell on the ocean, it would
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float.
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together, we watched the anvil drift towards the point where earth would
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be when it got there. then, without warning, i powered up the
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half-field drive and sent,
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`come on, let's go home. there are other things i want to do.'
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`do you think i've lost too much of my humanity?' i asked, rotating
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slowly within the field-bubble along the axis of our path, eyes closed.
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`what do you mean?' Lydya sent back.
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`well, i used to be obsessed by either food, or sex. and it seems that
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i don't have any interest in either, at the moment.'
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`i was like that, just after my Change.' she paused, reminiscing. `oh,
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yeah. i did some weird shit when i Changed. you get over it soon
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enough.' another pause. `would you like to come to dinner with me when
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we get back?' i smiled.
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`i'd be delighted.'
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she'd darted off somewhere once we'd entered earth's atmosphere. i
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dropped into the garage where my car was stored and drove it to the
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nearby beach. it felt strange, driving a car; i was uncomfortably aware
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of how dead, how unresponsive it was. i began making plans for giving
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her a degree of sentience, a nervous system. yeah. when i was finished
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with her, she'd be able to drive herself.
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as i looked for a place to park, i thought, why stop there? mass-
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conversion power-system, so she'd run on fresh air... hype the engine
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up, rework the suspension... the tyres'd have to be replaced completely.
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a reproductive system? why not. it'd have to be parthenogenetic, at
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least, at first...
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i got out of the car, walked down onto the beach. it was late at night;
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no-one else here. the scent of wind over afternoon-scorched sand was a
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familiar one, as if no time at all had passed since i'd walked along
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this beach at night, out of my mind on vodka and angst.
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i walked into the shallow water; it soaked into my jeans, and the
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combination of recent extreme cold and vacuum on Nereid, and the salt
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water did something to them; they began falling apart, the threads
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breaking into segments about a centimetre long.
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i waded out until the water rose up to my chest, the tatters of my
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clothing floating away with the waves. i analysed the water, and found
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that there were, after all, minute traces of gold in it. previously i'd
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believed that that had been some kind of urban myth. i knelt down,
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submerging, a six-inch slash opening up in my chest, lined with cilii. i
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swam forward, sucking water in through the vent, filtering it and
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expelling it from a hole in my lower back. there were some interesting
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pollutants, but all i was interested in for the moment was the gold.
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i reached down and scooped up some sand; it had more gold in it than the
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water did, so i swam down to the bottom and started gulping it down,
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moving about like a vacuum cleaner, slowly accumulating enough gold to
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pay for dinner at the restaurant. as i swam back towards the shore, i
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formed it into a little ingot, about the size of two matchboxes, and
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stamped a five-pointed star into the top. there was a small group of
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teenagers on the beach, so i hid my genitalia and made my lower half
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resemble denim before emerging from the water, the ingot hidden inside
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me. they gave me some strange looks, and as i climbed into the car, i
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realised i still had a huge gash in my chest. i smiled and set my body
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to developing a loose skin made of finely woven black cotton, silk,
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denim and leather. by the time i got to the restaurant i was decently
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dressed, the gold ingot sitting in my back pocket.
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i parked the car, got out and sat on the bonnet, mulling over a plan to
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convert nitrogen into gold using low-energy sub-atomic manipulation. the
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answer suddenly presented itself, as answers so often do, and within
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minutes a replica of a two-dollar coin formed on the palm of my hand,
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perfect in very detail except for the fact that instead of a
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copper-gold-nickel amalgam, it was pure gold. i was sure that the
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waiters wouldn't mind. i just hoped that they'd notice, and not put the
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coins into general circulation.
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i kept producing coins until i had seventy dollars' worth; i was working
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on coin number thirty-six when Lydya dropped out of the sky, wearing a
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sheer black dress with a gauzy train, her long black hair braided over
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one shoulder. i slid off the bonnet and offered her my arm; together,
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we entered the foyer of the restaurant.
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the food was just as good as the last time i'd been here; i refrained
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from fully examining it with my Metamorph senses. i wanted to enjoy it
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simply, as a human would, as i would have a month ago. after about
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forty minutes, however, i was growing bored. while carefully placing
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small squares of charcoal-grilled steak into my mouth, i played about
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with the external layers of skin, changing their colour and texture.
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ignoring the stares of the other diners, i settled on a pitted metallic
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grey, as if i were a statue cast out of lead. not to be outdone, Lydya
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changed her surface appearance to that of green marble, diagonally
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veined with dark red streaks. i grinned, and altered my frame, slowly
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stretching until my head almost touched the ceiling, skeletally thin.
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the other diners would stare for a few minutes then, apparently, decide
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that we were part of some elaborate video prank. i resumed my original
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shape but kept the metal surface texture.
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`this is...' i began.
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`yes?' she said, briefly turning into translucent jade, vague outlines
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of her internal organs (i hadn't known that she still used them) visible
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through her skull.
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`it makes me want to do something that will make them sit up and look.
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something that they won't be able to explain away as a stunt, or a
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special effect, or a hologram.' i thought for a few moments. `i have
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this strange urge to lie in the sun on the beach of an island in the
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pacific, somewhere. i'd like to be able to buy it.' my head was
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swimming with plans, things i wanted to do. i smiled at her. `i think
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i've regained my inspiration.'
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a week later; Lydya had gone off to visit some guy named Boyd in
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America. i'd converted enough nitrogen into gold to be able to purchase
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a house and fill it with very expensive furniture. i'd decided to make
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a film.
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i hadn't decided whether or not i'd use human actors; it would have been
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easy to simply visualise the whole thing inside my head and project it
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into the lens of a film camera, but that was too far removed from the
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process of building sets, costumes and lighting.
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i sat in a huge, ornate armchair, one leg up on the arm, staring into
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the open fire, details whirring around inside my mind; plans for
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nanomachines to build the sets, to generate the null-gravity field (it
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was set in space), to form into three remote-controlled shells,
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meat-puppets which would be the primary actors.
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when finished, it had no overt dialogue; a sound-track consisting of
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twenty minutes of soft, jangling music along the lines of the Cocteau
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Twins, followed by half an hour of slightly harder-sounding
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semi-industrial sounds. the whole thing had a vaguely dark aspect.
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i had no idea how to go about distributing it other than inviting some
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of my old human friends around to my new house, to view it. one or two
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of them wondered where i'd been for the past few months, but they
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weren't really interested in my answer.
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i aimed the projector at a large blank wall in a room filled with
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couches and chairs, turned down the lights and started the film.
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the titles come up in bright, burning red on a black background: `Each
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Sleek Dominion' (the title didn't mean anything; i'd selected the
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words at random, and they seemed just as appropriate as any other).
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opening shot, a starship (the standard, ornate, over-detailed
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flashing-light-dotted kind ordinarily associated with
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late-twentieth-century SF films) flies towards a gas-giant in a binary
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star system. the ship assumes an orbit around the gas giant. many
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beautiful shots of the ship against the star-field.
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inside, a young woman dressed in a glittering black latex uniform
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floats before a two-dimensional holographic screen on which are images
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detailing her upcoming mission; a rendezvous with an alien ship. her
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pale face seems small and delicate due to the shock of black hair that
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floats around her head like a lion's mane. her hand drifts out and a
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finger intersects the plane of the screen; the images freeze. the
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sleeves of her uniform come down into finger- stalls over her thumb
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and pinky. she floats closer; we see a look of concern plain on her
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face as she examines the images (we are too close to the screen to see
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more than a dozen or so translucent grey-green scan-lines).
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she waves her hand through the screen and it vanishes. arms folded,
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eyes closed, she floats backward through the gloomy control-room, lit
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from below by instrumentation, flickering lights. her breasts move
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strangely beneath her uniform in zero-g.
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her second-in-command - a young woman wearing a similar uniform, her
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crimson hair cut short, four pale-white animal claws on a leather
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thong around her neck - floats in through a circular hatchway set in
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the wall, folds herself into a ball, tumbles, straightens out and
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shoots towards her captain. they embrace, kiss and there follows a
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slowly paced yet torrid lesbian scene, during which they strip off
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their uniforms, generally nibble and lick each other, ending up in a
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position where each is grasping the other's thigh and grinding their
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hips back and forth.
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cut to: outside, where a gigantic grey-green craft shaped like a
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conch-shell spirals through space towards the human starship. it
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halts a short distance away (this is where the industrial music takes
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over). cut to the inside of this ship, which is uncomfortably
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Gigeresque; a huge hallway which curves around and out of view, lit by
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harshly bright white spheres, filmed on an angle.
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(all of these scenes were actually done on earth; i'd bought an old
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gymnasium, knocked out the first and second floor and set up a series
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of gravity filters in the football-field sized space. i'd had to make
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the place airtight because whenever the zero-g effects were on, the
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air tried to rush out of the roof.)
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the young woman, naked, floats through the spiral. a hessian bag is
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tethered to one foot, and it jerks along behind her. she explores the
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hallway until she reaches the point where the gap is around twice her
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height; she then turns back and follows the spiral outwards again.
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she is met by some kind of alien, resembling three rubber balls joined
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together inside a stocking, bright yellow slick- looking surfaces.
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the spherical sections deform, shudderingly, as if they were balloons
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full of jelly. the leading sphere (with four double-jointed but
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otherwise disturbingly human-looking arms arranged around the side)
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comes to a blunt-nosed point, like a teardrop. the alien and the girl
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float about two metres apart, each cautiously regarding the other.
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the girl opens the hessian sack and produces a cat-o'-nine tails,
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which she lashes back and forth confidently. the alien cowers, the
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two outer spheres contracting towards the centre one, the arms
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partially retracting into the front sphere. the girl gently brushes
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the whip across the alien's snout and says something reassuring;
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(no subtitles... i was originally aiming for a dream-like mood; i got
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away from this as what passed for a plot developed, but occasional
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touches remained)
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the alien appears to relax and the arms emerge. somehow, they move
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closer together; the alien grasps her legs with two arms and the snout
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elongates and grows narrower at the end. she spreads her legs and
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sinks down on the end of the snout, shuddering. as they thrust
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against each other alternate segments of the walls begin to glow in a
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sequence, light pulsing towards the centre of the conch. as she
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approaches orgasm, the lights pulse faster...
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cut to: outside; the alien ship is glowing, the pulses spiralling
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inwards faster and faster; the whole ship glows bright blue-white,
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there is a dazzling flash (a few frames of pure white) and the ship is
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gone. close-up of a slowly turning bubble, a wobbling gelatinous
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balloon, the captain visible through the transparent sides against the
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starry backdrop.
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|
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> Phoenix Modernz Systems: 908/830-TANJ <20>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
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<EFBFBD>۱<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> VapourWare BBS: 61/3-429-8510 ۲<><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD>۱<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> underworld_1995.com 514/683-1894 ۲<><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> RipCo ][: 312/528-5020 <20>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> etext.archive.umich.org <20><><EFBFBD>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> PO Box 174 <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> Seaside Hts, NJ <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20> 08751 <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>۲<EFBFBD><DBB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>۲<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>; <20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>ݲ<EFBFBD><DDB2><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>۱<EFBFBD><DBB1><EFBFBD>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20> <20> tanj@pms.metronj.org <20> <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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