[ WP ] You have n't eaten an apple in years , the doctors are after you . They 're not sure how you 've done it , and they want you dead as your existence threatens the demand for their genetically modified apples .

# 1 • Peer Pressure 
 
 `` Shoyen.'' Ramagand sighed. `` Just *take* it, yeah? Everyone else does, and we're fine. We're *more* than fine. It's not going to hurt you.'' He pressed the white globe into her hand. `` You might even like it.'' 
 
 `` Like I said,'' spat Shoyen, raising the small sphere in front of Ramagand and overturning her hand, forcing him to stoop to catch it, `` I do n't want this poison in my body.'' As Ramagand straightened, she turned and began to walk away, her heavy boots scuffing the brushed silver walkway. `` Just leave me alone about it.'' 
 
 Ramagand jogged to catch up, easily overtaking her in his lightweight `` footwear'', the devices making a faint *click* with each step on the hard walkway. They barely covered his feet, and they were n't connected by any visible straps; Shoyen shivered, pulling her heavy coat more tightly about herself at both the thought and the night's chill. Of course there were were no straps, nowadays; why would you need to strap something that *grows* from you? The nanobots in his Ramagand's bloodstream were excellent little builders, were n't they? 
 
 It was disgusting. 
 
 `` Shoyen, look. Hey, stop!'' Ramagand set a hand on her shoulder. It felt like a vice. Shoyen strained for a moment, then stopped with an annoyed sigh. She did n't turn to face him as he continued. `` Shoyen. It's not like it was before.'' He extended the white globe in front of her, again, holding it gently in the palm of his hand. `` These are *different* now.'' 
 
 `` No, they're *always* the same.'' Shoyen's voice dripped venom. `` I do n't care how much faster or stronger or'better' it gets. It's fucked up.'' 
 
 `` Version 12 is even better than Version 11.'' He turned the sphere in his hand, exposing a metal emblem with the number `` 12'' stamped below it in tasteful silver letters. `` Look. I just... I think you would like it, if you tried it. I mean, look at you.'' Ramagand took his hand from Shoyen's shoulder. 
 
 She spun back around, rolling her eyes. `` What the hell are you on about?'' 
 
 `` Come on.'' Ramagand crossed his bare arms. They'd have been considered `` nice arms'', before Version 9; as soon as Version 9 hit, though, *everyone* had had `` nice arms'' and so it had become pointless. Lately, the `` cool'' thing to do was to go for `` more organic'' arms -- the fact that people called *any* of it `` organic'' made Shoyen curl her lip in distaste. Ramagand's arms were bare for two reasons: first, the sleeveless mint-green shirt he was wearing was in fashion today, and, second, Ramagand could n't feel cold. Even as Shoyen ground her teeth at the thought, she pulled her coat tighter still. 
 
 `` So what? It's a jacket. I take it off when I get home, and that's it. You live with *that* forever.'' She grabbed the white ball and shook it at Ramagand's face as she spoke. `` Forever, Ram. You think, what, you think I'm just supposed to try this once and that'll be that? You think I'll stop hating it if I'just give it a chance'?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, Shoyen, I do. I think it'll be good for you.'' 
 
 `` Piss on that.'' She drew her arm back and hurled the Apple off of the walkway and watched with satisfaction as it fell into the city below, eventually disappearing in the shadow of a white skyscraper. `` I've already given it a chance. No more.'' 
 
 Ramagand made no move to stop Shoyen as she spun to walk away, again, leaving a fresh set of scuffs on the path as she turned. 
 
 § 
 
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 # 2 • Seamless 
 
 Shoyen bolted awake, sweating. 
 
 *No*, she thought. *No, no, no. Not again. So soon? * 
 
 She turned on her bedside lamp with a snap of her fingers -- she could n't use the mentally-activated switches -- and confirmed her suspicions. The walls of her apartment had begun to fuzz at the far end of the room, microscopic robots tearing up the molecular structure of the wallpaper; the wall, itself would be next. Then the structure. The next morning, the world would be rebuilt, seamlessly, while the people slept. 
 
 It was Patch Day. 
 
 *But*, wondered Shoyen as she pulled on her boots, *why so soon? Version 12 is only months old... * She grabbed her backpack, full of enough provisions to last until the Patch ended -- it was usually only a matter of hours, but Version 6 had taken nearly four days. She grabbed the sledgehammer that leaned up against her nightstand, threw open her bedroom window, and hopped out into the freezing night. She immediately missed the relative warmth of her room, if `` warmth'' was even the right word. 
 
 She grudgingly gave the company credit for exactly *one* thing being natural: there was no artificial heating or cooling to speak of. The glass and aluminum that composed the lion's share of the city's structure regulated their own temperatures relatively well, and the nanobots in everyone else's bodies blocked any residual feelings of discomfort. 
 
 Shoyen pulled on her coat as she began her trip to the city's edge. During the Patch for Version 9, she'd made it a point to find out exactly where the boundary was. She'd been through 10 Patches, already ( the ability to Patch the entire city at once had started with Version 3 ), and only the most recent 4 had tried to kill her: the company had clamped down on their `` proprietary hardware'' and begun to `` delete foreign contaminants'' from the city with every Patch. 
 
 Shoyen, she had learned when Patch 9 had begun to `` delete'' her while she slept, was considered a `` foreign contaminant''. Once she'd escaped the city, the nanobots returned her to her `` previous state'', a failsafe in case the Patch could n't be completed, or somehow went awry. She'd gotten lucky; if she had been laying the other way, it would've started with her head. 
 
 She'd been ready for 10 and 11, but Version 12 had almost done her in, again. Version 12 had introduced a new `` anti-malware'' system called The Doctor. Apparently, Shoyen had been downgraded from `` foreign'' to `` malicious'' somewhere over the last three Patch cycles, and The Doctor had shown up to protect the city from her. 
 
 She still bore the scars from it. 
 
 *Not again*, she thought, gripping the sledgehammer tighter. *If you're going to treat me like malware, then I'm going to act like it. * 
 
 § 
 
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