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Transhuman boy turned into a sex fixture.
'I'm Dancing,' he thought. 'They're making me dance for them like a low-rent stripper.'
The dance picked up energy, his hips thrusting side to side as his arms made dynamic swishes and slices around him. He hung helplessly, suspended by his hips and shoulders, as his body displayed itself for these riffraff, throwing him from one revealing pose to another, until finally his legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, arms clasped unbreakably behind his back.
The black-haired woman raised her hands and clapped, and the rest of the onlookers broke out in raucous applause. To Sano's relief, most of them weren't looking at him or his nakedness, but staring admiringly up at Tami.
"That's enough," said the black-haired woman, stepping up to Sano. Taking his chin between her good thumb and forefinger, she tipped him up to face her, considered him for a moment, then kissed him. It was a quick peck on the lips, over before it began.
"I would bite you," Sano said calmly, "but you're not worth it."
"I assure you," said the black-haired woman, "I am. Don't you recognize me?"
"Scum are never invited to my events."
"I wouldn't have come anyway. I am everywhere in this city. Anything is mine to take, including you." She turned around. "I am the Spider."
The Spider. Sano had heard that name every time he heard about this city. He had read it in police reports he now wished he had paid more attention to. One quote that had stuck in his mind claimed that the mayor owned the top half of the city, and Spider owned the bottom half.
That was as far as his thoughts went before two heavy-set men emerged from the audience and hefted Sano to his feet. They muscled him out of the room, down a narrow hallway floored with a flimsy catwalk that shifted under his feet, its walls bordered by pipes that crowded his sides offensively.
Silently, the men opened a door to makeshift cell and pitched Sano in, causing him to roll painfully. His face was pressed against a corner when he heard the door slam shut.
Sano moved his head to look around. Above, pipes ran in a tapering shaft that presumably led to a building somewhere. Below, a grate floor suspended Sano above an abyss that led all the way down to the ocean. Sano could hear the waves echoing up against the metal.
Sano flexed his shoulders, trying to move his stiff, useless arms, eventually rolling himself onto his back. He saw a bed off to his side, clearly there as a taunt to his sudden disability. He did his best to sleep.
* * *
Sano woke up, sore but rested. Sitting up, he palmed his eyes, then gave a start-- his arms were working again. His hands worked. He flexed his fingers in front of him, then his toes, knees and thighs, and to his delight, every inch of his body worked as well as they had the day his limbs emerged from the custom manufactory.
His limbs must have automatically performed a hard reset, he concluded. And the program that had controlled them hadn't survived the reboot.
Sano grinned. Those ignorant street trash were mistaken if they thought they could contain him. Reaching a hand into the grating, he pinched with his fingers. Delicate though his hands were, they were backed by superhuman strength, and the grate deformed. In a few more places, Sano pinched the bars, until finally the grate floor buckled enough that it left an opening against the edge of the shaft.
Without hesitation, Sano gripped a pipe on the wall and began to shimmy down, trying to keep his bare flesh from touching the cold metal. Half a foot at a time, he made his way down the shaft, deeper into the bowels of the city's infrastructure, not looking down and not fearing the drop.
When he found a hallway leading out of the shaft, he did not hesitate to duck in. His shoeless feet pounded on the sheet-metal floor, so disturbingly hollow, until he found his way into a lightless room where some unidentifiable noise filled the air.
Sano felt his way through, the pressure receptors on his mechanical fingertips giving him better feedback than biological ones ever c