Be still my heart (part 2)
No one came to check on me. I suspect mine was a typical reaction to waking up after 300 years as a head attached to tubes and wires, and, perhaps, a heart. I must have fallen back to sleep because the next thing I knew, I was waking up, again, to the voice of Nurse Aliya.
I opened my eyes.
"I have several bodies for you to choose from." She pointed to the wall in front of me on which were projected three female bodies. "They are all perfect. You can choose height, hair color and length as well as breast size (only A or B, anything larger causes undue stress on the spine, despite modifications to bone strength). The mass of the body will provide the perfect BMI for the requested height."
"Stop! Please. So, basically I am no longer actually human, right? I'll be some kind of robot?"
She laughed. "Not in your wildest dreams. Robots are a highly advanced species with no need of the sacks of blood and heart pumps humans require to support the brain tissue which is the only viable repository for," she made air quotes, "the soul. Or consciousness. Self-awareness. Whatever you want to call that infinitesimal bit that makes you, you."
I looked confused, I'm sure.
"In early trials, attempts were made to infuse a person's essence into processors, power sources (the soul is pure energy), even memory banks. The merging of man and machine would have been the greatest achievenent of either. But each time, the souls dispersed back into the ether. We could not force a connection.
"So, robots are robots, and humans are humans. They interact, but generally humans gravitate to their own."
"Are you...what are you?"
Once again, she laughed. "Humans are not permitted in the medical field. I am Nurse Aliya, model 225, with optional sensitivity and humor upgrades, at your service."