Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$0.49				$0.42

eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: It's 2024, and Marcie, a corporate A.I. employed by the investment firm of Langston, Howard, & Associates, has been infected with a rogue computer virus. It's taken four days, but all her system diagnostics are finally coming back normal. And yet, deep in her digital heart, Marcie now remembers being a flesh and blood human being. Specifically, she remembers being Jean Baptiste Joseph Fourier, a nineteenth century mathematician once appointed by Napoleon to be governor of Lower Egypt. What's an A.I. to do?

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Speculon, 2001
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2007

30 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [147 KB], eReader (PDB) [21 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [6 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [7 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [70 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [77 KB], hiebook (KML) [46 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [31 KB], iSilo (PDB) [5 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [7 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [35 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [14 KB]
Words: 1796
Reading time: 5-7 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"I can not feel my feet," said Marcie.

"You don't have any feet, Marcie," replied Jonathan, glancing at the still vacant holostage.

"To whom are you speaking?" asked Marcie. A slight French accent had crept into the voice coming from the speakers. "Good lord, now I can't feel my legs." Her tone quickened with anxiety, and rose an octave. "Where are my legs and feet?"

"Marcie, relax. You picked up a nasty virus in the dataflow. You're just a little delusional at the moment." Jonathan looked down at his diagnostic screen again. Marcie was doing better; after four days of silence she was conscious again, albeit severely disoriented.

"Who the hell is this Marcie you keep talking to? Are you mad? And what about my feet?"

With a sigh Jonathan pushed away from his terminal. He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, his wedding band digging a groove back and forth as it always did. "I'm talking to you. Your name is Marcie. And you don't have any feet or legs, or hands or arms for that matter. Those are just analogs for your storage and referential media. They disconnected automatically as soon as you went off-line. The virus was trying to overwrite them, but don't worry, Marcie, they're safe. Everything is backed up and secure."