As my body plummeted through the atmosphere, I felt the scarf tingle on my neck.
Was it keeping me alive? Did it still need me?
"Why don't you shift into a parachute? Or grow me some wings?" I pleaded the Biomatrix as the air whooshed past us.
"Not enough material," was the response.
"A few of your organs will need to be harnessed for this procedure."
"Can't you do without the organ harnessing?"
"No," was its initial response, then it continued:
"Terminal velocity will slow your body down enough as is.
Probability indicates a snow landing. Bend your knees.
If it is a landing onto concrete or rock, your body will shatter and break, spilling minor organs.
In case of such unfortunate life expiration, we will have full rights to reconstruct your shell as we see fit, increasing efficiency 200%.
You could use another set of arms, you know."
"What if I don't want extra arms?"
As chance would have it, I did land onto something.
Something that sounded an awful lot like ... Captain.
11th January 2013
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