One circuit came after the other, synaptic outputs and inputs wove their way into the budding implant. My hands worked, but I had no idea where I was going with it.
Cuss-Bert and Orchid left me, because they had other things, like the pleasure house and it's inhabitants to tend to. From far away I heard the sounds of a heated argument, but I paid no attention to it.
The circuits took wild turns, transformed under my fingers, bringing up memories of the past.
This time it wasn't the loud tooth man. Not even the forest.
I remembered my first implant. I was humming a song to myself as I worked. An old song, from way before. A tune sang by my people.
When I was a child, I went to a school that was mixed. I had Enhanced and ruralist children around me. I didn't see that big of a difference
