The High Five

Synth-skin

Tayen kept Vivian's Q-and-A sesh running in a corner of her field of view as she went through her exercise workout. A musical montage played with a countdown to showtime. Right on cue, Vivian appeared and gave her signature sign-on. She was shooting from an octang with the moon and stars as backdrop.

"I'm streaming to you live today from aboard the resupply vessel ASF Moonlighter on our maiden voyage to the moon. No special effects here, see?" She flipped herself over. "Anyway, you get the idea. Now I'm going to stop that before I puke. The moon is just gorgeous, isn't it? It's so pretty I could just wear it. Maybe..." She pinched the pearl-sized moon between two fingers and craned her head until it appeared to dangle below her ear. "Like my new jewelry? I hear planets are all the rage in galactic fashion."

Vivian, or Vee-Vee as she was known in the Vorld, was a natural on-stream. What first drew viewers was her looks: the sunset-red hair, pixie freckles, and liquid, green eyes. But what held them captivated was her buoyant spirit, quick smile, and inviting gaze. She made every one of her millions of fans feel like she was speaking directly to them.

Tayen could never do that. She froze up in front of the camera. The cancellation of the docu-stream had come as a big relief. The idea of all those silent, anonymous viewers observing her as she went about her day made her skin crawl.

Tayen looked at her reflection in the mirror as she did her arm curls. When she kept a neutral expression, her face looked so normal even she couldn't tell where the scars were. Staying neutral wasn't hard to do. She hadn't been very expressive even before the accident. The moment she started to speak or react, her face split into uneven halves. Her synth-skin didn't move in the same way as the original. There was underlying tissue damage, and the nerve and fascia connections had to be re-mapped. A smile turned into a smirk and a scowl into a grimace. With enough practice, she could manipulate her face into the right position, but it took conscious effort and felt forced. By the time she got it right, the moment had already passed.

Even in a swimsuit, no one would have guessed Tayen had been burned over half her body and had forty percent of her skin replaced with a synthetic substitute. Not to mention a false eye, ear, breast reconstruction, and prosthetic right arm. If she were struck with amnesia, she wouldn't have noticed the difference herself. The synthetic skin was perfectly matched to her tone down to natural-looking variations. It even felt the same except when she sweated or got goosebumps. Passing a black-light wand over her body revealed the full extent of the damage. Glowing softly, the synth-skin made a ragged path from ankle to temple as if she had been viciously mauled.

As for the prosthetic arm, it was something of a miracle. The maker, Synex, advertised its line of synthetic parts as "the body you wish you had been born with." The advertising was not all hype. Tayen's arm, their most advanced prototype, was in every way better than the original. It was faster, stronger, and it never hurt or even felt sore. And the sensations! After a few weeks of tactile calibration, she was able to discern not only hot and cold, dull and pointy, and soft and hard, but textures ranging from coarse wool to slippery oysters. When she showered, she would hold her synth-hand beneath the water jet and run it through her hair and along her skin, marveling at all the subtle and delicate sensations. Among the more bizarre effects, she found she could tickle herself. But that was just the start. She had newfound abilities. She could detect magnetism, radiation, and even certain chemicals—like sniffing with her fingers! She could play the piano one-handed or dice an onion in three seconds flat. There were even more upgrades coming, she was told.

Developing control was the most difficult part. Handling an egg. Brushing her teeth. Tossing things. She remembered the look on Milo's face when she hurled a football the entire length of a field. She nearly dislocated her shoulder in the process. It was easy to forget the magnitude of her strength. Just like with these arm curls she was doing. Her synth-arm could handle five times as much resistance as her natural one. If she wasn't careful, she could injure herself. It was all about finding the right balance.