..” I trailed off.Techne was looking at me with the saddest expression that plastic and chrome could have. “Venn, that was lung scarring from micr...-plastic in the winds, from the old trash heaps that are still burning in Stumble’s equatorial hellzone.” She shook her head. “It was part of what was going to kill you before you hit fifty standard.”I blinked at her. “Oh.”She grinned. “Come on. Get up.”I stood and I had to admit, without the fire of life inside me, without the aches and pains in my. Finally, one night, feeling I'd been rather hypocritical, and also feeling a bit reckless, I logged on under my "regular" screenname, and, despite seeing Rocy was online (although not in a chatroom at the time), I went ahead and marched into one of my personal favorites, "at home for dares." Only a few minutes went by before I received an IM from my niece. The conversation wasn't very long, but it set the mood for our future encounters. It went as follows.plywoodstarship: what kind of dare u. More

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