I set the PDA down, went over to the stateroom sink, and looked into the mirror at my new face.

It was impossible to ignore the eyes. My old body had brown eyes—muddy brown, but with interesting flecks of gold. Kathy used to tell me that she had read that flecks of color in the iris were nothing more than additional fatty tissue. So I had fat eyes.

If those eyes were fat, these were positively obese. They were gold from the pupil outward toward the rim, where they shaded toward green. The rim of the iris was a deep emerald; spikes of that color stabbed toward the pupils. The pupils themselves were slitted, drawn tight by the light directly above the mirror. I turned off that light and then turned the primary light off as well; the only light in the room was a small LED on the PDA. My old eyes would have never been able to see off of that.

My new eyes took only a moment to adjust. The room was undeniably dim, but I could make out every object clearly. I went back to the mirror and looked in; my eyes were dilated like someone with a belladonna overdose. I flicked the sink light back on and watched my pupils constrict with impressive speed.

I took off my clothes and took the first real look at my new body. My earlier impression of my form turned out to be correct; for lack of a better term, I was totally buffed out. I ran my hand down my chest and washboard stomach. I had never been this athletically fit in my life. I had no idea how they managed to make the new me this fit. I wondered how long it would take me to get it into the flabby shape I had been in during my real twenties. Then I wondered, given the amount of fiddling they had done with this body's DNA, if it was even possible for it to become flabby. I hoped not. I liked the new me.

Oh, and I was entirely hairless from the eyelashes down.

I mean, hairless—not a spare hair anywhere. Arms bare, legs bare, back bare (not that it had never not been bare before, ahem), private bits bare. I rubbed my chin to feel if there was a hint of stubble there. Smooth as a baby's bottom. Or my bottom, now. I looked down at my package; to be honest, without hair, it looked a little forlorn. The hair on my head was full but nondescript brown. That much hadn't changed from my previous incarnation.

I held my hand in front of my face to get a look at the skin tone. It was a shade of green that was light but not glaring, which was good; I don't think I could have handled being chartreuse. My skin was an even tone across my body, although my nipples and the tip of my penis were slightly darker. Basically, I seemed to have the same color contrast as before, just in a different hue. One thing I did notice, however, my veins were more noticeable, and grayish. I suspect that whatever color SmartBlood™ was (whatever it really was), it wasn't bloodred. I dressed myself again.

My PDA beeped at me. I picked it up. There was a message waiting.

You now have access to your BrainPal™ computer system, it read. Would you like to activate it at this time? There were buttons on the screen for YES and NO. I picked YES.

Suddenly, a deep, rich, soothing voice out of nowhere. I nearly jumped out of my new green skin.

"Hello!" it said. "You are interfacing with your BrainPal internal computer, with the patented Assistive Adaptive Interface! Do not be alarmed! Thanks to the BrainPal integration, the voice you are now hearing is being generated directly to the hearing centers of your brain."

Great, I thought. There's another voice in my head now.

"After this brief introductory session, you may turn off the voice at any time. We'll begin with some options you can choose by answering 'yes' or 'no.' At this point, your BrainPal would like you to say 'yes' and 'no' when directed, so that it may learn to recognize this response. So when you are ready, please say the word 'yes.' You may say it at any time."

The voice stopped. I hesitated, a little bit dazed.

"Please say 'yes' now," the voice repeated.

"Yes!" I said, a little jumpy.

"Thank you for saying 'yes.' Now, please say 'no.'"

"No," I said, and for a moment wondered if the BrainPal™ would think I was saying "no" to its request, get huffy and fry my brain in its own juices.

"Thank you for saying 'no,'" the voice said, revealing itself to be something of a literalist. "As we progress together, you will learn in time that you will not need to verbalize these commands in order for your BrainPal to respond to them. However, in the short term, you will probably wish to verbalize while you become comfortable communicating with your BrainPal. At this time, you have the option of continuing with audio, or switching to a text interface. Would you prefer to switch now to a text interface?"

"God, yes," I said.

We will now proceed with a text interface, a line of text read, floating directly in my line of sight. The text was perfectly contrasted against what I was staring at. I moved my head, and the text stayed dead center, the contrast changed to stay perfectly readable at all times. Wild.

It is recommended that during your initial text session, you remain seated to avoid injuring yourself, the BrainPal wrote. Please sit now. I sat.

During your initial sessions with your BrainPal™, you will find it easier to communicate by verbalizing. To aid the BrainPal™ in understanding your questions, we will now teach your BrainPal™ to understand your voice as it speaks. Please speak the following phonemes as you read them. In my field of vision, a list of phonemes unspooled. I read them right to left. The BrainPal then had me speak a number of short sentences. I did.

Thank you, the BrainPal wrote. Your BrainPal™ will now be able to take direction from the sound of your voice. Would you like to personalize your BrainPal™ now?

"Yes," I said.

Many BrainPal™ users find it useful to give their BrainPal™ a name other than BrainPal™. Would you like to name your BrainPal™ at this time?

"Yes," I said.

Please speak the name you would like to give your BrainPal™.

"'Asshole,'" I said.

You have selected "Asshole," the BrainPal wrote, and to its credit it spelled the word correctly. Be aware that many recruits have selected this name for their BrainPal™. Would you like to choose a different name?

"No," I said, and was proud that so many of my fellow recruits also felt this way about their BrainPal.

Your BrainPal™ is now Asshole, the BrainPal wrote. You may change this name in the future if you like. Now you must choose an access phrase to activate Asshole. While Asshole is active at all times it will only respond to commands after it has been activated. Please choose a short phrase. Asshole suggests "Activate Asshole" but you may choose another phrase. Please say your activation phrase now.

"'Hey, Asshole,'" I said.

You have chosen "Hey, Asshole." Please say it again to confirm. I did. Then it asked me to choose a deactivation phrase. I chose (of course) "Go away, Asshole."

Would you like Asshole to refer to itself in the first person?

"Absolutely," I said.

I am Asshole.

"Of course you are."

I await your commands or queries.

"Are you intelligent?" I asked.

I am equipped with a natural language processor and other systems to understand questions and comments and to provide answers, which often gives the appearance of intelligence, especially when connected to larger computer networks. Brain Pal™ systems, however, are not natively intelligent. For example, this is an automated response. This question is asked frequently.

"How do you understand me?"

At this stage I am responding to your voice, Asshole wrote. As you speak I am monitoring your brain and learning how your brain activates when you desire to communicate with me. In time I will be able to understand you without the need for you to speak. And in time, you may also learn to use me without conscious audible or visual cues.