CAPACITY

one of the thorns that hung over Helen’s eyes.

“You’re how long-seventy years-out of time to her?”

Helen nodded, surprised at the accuracy of his guess. He gave a modest shrug of his elongated body, black hair flopping over his eyes. “Nothing is more embarrassing than the attitudes of the past. It’s as if Judy has met her grandmother in a young woman’s body. The way you dress, the way you act; you’re an anachronism. You’re both the same age, yet you’re separated by seventy years.”

Helen didn’t need to ask Judy; she knew what Zinman was saying was the truth. Zinman knew it, too. He pushed home his point.

“You lived before the time of the Transition, Helen. People back then were more open to new ideas. They weren’t locked into that slavish devotion to Social Care that typifies Judy’s generation.”

Helen turned to Judy, waiting for her to say something. Ella came forward, smiling. “Why don’t we do something for you now, Judy?” she asked

Zinman and the two chocolate women surrounded her. Judy placed her hands on her knees and bent her head to concentrate. Zinman gave a laugh.

“Oh, Judy! You’re such a bore! Your pills don’t work in here; no emotion belongs to one person. Everything is shared, even that body of yours.”

He brushed the dark hair from his lurid green eyes. “Come, be like Helen. Join in. Tell me, how should we dress you? I know…in ice. Yes. Ella, Ruby, would you like to lend a hand…”

He laughed and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.

“Don’t try your tricks with me, Zinman,” Judy said. Zinman wore a puzzled expression as he snapped his fingers again. “That doesn’t work. Now stop wasting my time. Tell me about Kevin.”

“Kevin? That poseur?” Zinman sounded thoughtful. “No, I don’t think I will. You see, although you have a hold on your form, I still control the context.”

There was a rippling and all of the pieces of litter in the courtyard folded over on themselves, folded over to become golden hands. They took hold of Ruby and Ella.

“Oh, Judy,” said Zinman, “your problem is that you live in a world of order, of right and wrong. Here the boundaries are blurred, if they even exist at all.”

“No one’s body is their own here,” Ella said, looking at Ruby, who was melting in the grip of those golden hands. “Do you understand what that means?”

“I think I do,” Helen breathed. The blank windows that surrounded the square stared down at her. Helen had the impression of them being filled by silent watchers.

“I knew you would understand,” Zinman said. “Seventy years from the past and yet you understand the future. The EA claims that possessions will be abolished. A lie! How can it say that when, in the end, everyone belongs to the EA? Well, here nothing belongs to anyone.” He raised his eyebrows, and Helen felt something slip up between her legs, something slip deep inside her. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Helen admitted.

“I could take your virtual body and mold it into something wonderful. Anyone could. Nothing in this world is immutable. Do you want to hear the big secret? The one she doesn’t want you to know?”

They both looked to Judy, gripped in golden hands.

“There is no reason why the atomic world should not be just as mutable as Penumbra. If the EA wanted to, it could arrange it. Harness the VNMs, set them free to convert all matter in the universe to nanotechs. Wipe out the gross form of the human body and let personality constructs roam free in the foam of a nanotech sea. Just like this.”

The buildings surrounding the courtyard melted away, leaving nothing but golden hands.

“This is the future, Helen,” Zinman said, and now he vanished. The thorn cage that encased Helen’s body became warm; it began to move, to enfold her completely. A voice spoke in her ear. “Imagine that, Helen. Your body there for anyone in this world to use?”

“You’re not paying attention to her, Zinman. That’s not Helen’s fantasy.”

The sound of Judy’s voice broke Helen’s trance. She looked around and saw the dark shape of her friend almost submerged by gripping hands.

“Judy?” Helen said. “I feel…”

Zinman was angry. “What do you know, Judy? What does a virgin know of the pleasure of sharing their body with another? You have divided the universe into yourself and everything else. Even your PC is inviolate.”

Helen frowned. That last sentence was meant for her to hear. Zinman had glanced across at her as he said it.

“Your PC is inviolate? What does that mean, Judy?”

“It means it can’t be copied again, Helen,” snorted Zinman. “Didn’t she tell you? There can only ever be twelve digital Judys? It’s hard-coded into her personality construct.”

“Is that true?”

“Of course,” Judy said calmly. “It is standard practice for all SC operatives in my position. Security.”

Helen felt as if she had been terribly betrayed.

“All that understanding, all those lectures about not hating Peter Onethirteen for what he did to me! I almost believed it. Easy for you to say it when it can’t happen to you, when no one is going to make a copy of you and drop you in a private processing space.”

Zinman had a hand on her shoulder now. “But that’s right. You must have realized, Helen. All Judy ever does is watch.”

“Yes!” Helen shouted. “He’s right, isn’t he, Judy? You never did tell me-why are you a virgin?”

“Pure arrogance,” Zinman scoffed. “To put yourself above everyone else. That’s what Social Care do, isn’t it, Helen? They think they know best.”

The thorns were tighter. They caught Helen’s breasts in an exquisite cage of pinpoints.

Zinman was almost pleading with Helen to understand him. “Hah! How can they say what is best for us? They’re simply doing the will of the Watcher, shaping human minds to its own ends. Making us believe in this heaven; this ideal path to the future that it is laying down, but the Watcher’s heaven is a sterile, soulless thing. What is reality for humans, Helen? Is it following the wishes of machines, or doing what we think is best?”

Helen looked from Zinman to Judy. “Doing what we think is best,” she said.

Zinman smiled widely. “I knew you’d understand. You lived your life pre-Transition. Your thought patterns haven’t been set out for you. You know, Helen, you don’t have to go back with Judy. You could stay here. Would you like to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Helen said, glancing at Ruby. There was nothing now but chocolate smeared across the golden palms.

“It’s okay,” Ella said. “She can come back anytime she likes. Look.”

And now a body reformed amongst the hands: midnight black and beautiful. A young woman smiled up from the golden grasp.

“Hello, Helen,” she said.

“Is there anything else to this world apart from sex?”

It took them a moment to realize that Judy had spoken, her voice was so muffled by the golden hands.

Zinman laughed. “Oh, yes! It’s just that sex is all you see when you are a virgin. Helen, do you want to see something more? Do you like music?”

“Not really…”

The world swirled.

“Distance is such an outdated concept,” said Zinman.

The world reformed as a golden tapestry of color. Golden cloth surrounded them, clothing them in brocade and tapestries in jeweled patterns of yellow and black and red.

“Klimt,” Ruby said, thrusting her head back and closing her eyes as she knelt down. Zinman placed a hand on her cheek, the other in her hair, and made as if to kiss her.

“Ah! The Kiss,” said Ella.

“Mahler,” Zinman said as music surrounded them. “Veni creator spiritus.” He gave