Although there weren�t really any clouds, the urban neon lit up brightly, so there weren�t any stars that could be seen in Makati. It was later than Lucida�s usual time getting home. Her surgeon took a while longer setting up the software to test the touch-sensitivity of her fresh coat of skin. But in 2041, virtually everyone stayed up late anyway.

The steel secondary gates of Lucida�s home slid before her, and she stepped in, moving into the expanse of her natural garden. It had real plants, and not plastic ones, although she didn�t really have any of the naturalistic affection some of her older friends had. Actually, it was her late Chinese filmmaker husband�s garden, which he had left in her name. She walked through the garden quickly, and was inside the house proper even before the automated gates closed behind her.

Lucida went straight into her bedroom, not even bothering to voice the command for lights on her way in, not even pausing to look at the photo of herself and her old husband taken 15 years ago when they were 35. She removed all of her clothing, and went into her private bath.

Inside, Lucida caught the mirror first thing. She couldn�t help but be amazed at the results of her surgery. She saw what was, at most, a 25 year old woman in the mirror, and not a 50 year old. This time, she thought, the promises in the ads were right. Genetic telomere therapy � the injection and reconstruction of aged telomere bundles in the DNA strands � did work. The technology was rather new, appearing on the Net just about a week ago. Combined with the reinforcement she got for her bones, and her new eyes, she felt like an all new woman. It was time for a celebration. Lucida checked the time on her pocket watch � 11:30 � not too late for a late night spin for virtual memory patches.

"You really look familiar, you know." Ralph asked, watching Lucida from the corner of his eyes, as she sat there on the bar silently wearing the headset that downloaded false memories into her brain. It wasn�t particularly easy in the dim light of the Rhythm Emotion bar. He was really just staring out, listening to the rolling saxophone high notes in the background. "What did you say your name was again?"

"It�s Wendy" Lucida lied, her eyes still closed, but the edges of her lips raised into a slight smile. "And I really don�t recall our meeting before."

"Anyway, don�t you think you�re overdoing that prosti memory patch thing there?"

"Ralph," Lucida answered, turning to face the young mestizo man. "We just met a couple of hours ago and you�re already sounding like my mother." Not that Lucida ever really recalls the time when her mother actually scolded her. Besides she had been using memory patches since her undergrad years, after one of her directors (whose name escaped her just then) recommended it to her to help her get into that orphan child role she got in her early acting career. She recalls him saying that her acting was too academic, too schooled, and that it needed naturalizing. It helped, pushing her into a series of awards and giving her a more than respectable fan base. Not to mention that she happened to like the sensation of new memories flooding into her head. A stimulation of all the senses, Lucida used to describe it to her friends. It was far better than even being in cyberspace, where only sight and sound were satisfied. And it�s interactive. Of course, her idiot husband frowned upon it.

"Well, I was just asking," Ralph said. "It is your 8th program this night after all."

Lucida smiled. "Tenth. I had two earlier." She then closed her eyes once more, oblivious to the neon lights sparkling around her and the car horns and police sirens perpetually screaming outside.

"By the way? Are you sure we haven�t met before?" Ralph asked. It was more than his second time that night. "I�m sure you look familiar."

Home again, Lucida thought. She checked the time on her pocket watch as she dropped her handbag on some corner and walked inside the house. 4 AM. Maybe she could still catch some sleep before she meets her old friends for Wednesday lunch tomorrow. She went to the living room first, a habit she did prior to going to bed. Still the same. Except for that one little thing. She walked over to the circular glass table surrounded by the plush couches that faced her husband�s old bookshelves. The old picture of herself and a Chinese man that she couldn�t recognize, but looked vaguely familiar was on display there. A picture of them at some provincial village, it looked like, with movie cameras in the background. Probably one of my old directors, she thought. Well, her facial features were still within recognition now. Nevertheless, Lucida wasted no time in tucking it away. She didn�t even remember the significance of the photo anyway � probably overwritten by some artificial memory. And that was quite to her liking. Was it her husband?

Another memory patch wouldn�t hurt before bed. The razor girl patch, perhaps? No, that might recall some memories of the time she met that filmmaker.

She knew the security guard at the entrance of The Kiss café was looking at her as she stepped in. She silently mouthed a laugh to herself. Pocket watch out again. 11:40 �late already. Nevertheless, Lucida still passed by first floor restroom before going up to meet her friends at the second floor restroom they reserved a week ago for their monthly get-togethers. Well, that wasn�t really new � even when she looked 50, Lucida passed there without fail.

The mirror once again showed her in her new 25ish frame, sparkling with the new blue lipstick and eyeliner. Well, her lack of sleep didn�t show. Satisfied, Lucida proceeded to meet her friends.

They were already there, talking among themselves. A slight half-grin formed on Lucida�s mouth as she closely watched the wrinkles walk on their faces as they talked. She strode toward them, and then without saying anything, sat down on one of the vacant seats. Each one paused and looked at her, eyes narrowing.

"Luci?"

Friday night. Lucida thought about the past three days � lousy. Her old directors refuse to see her, claiming to be in the middle of negotiations. Bullshit. Her friends haven�t been returning her calls. That critic, Crucis, wrote another idiot piece on his column again, berated her on the memory patches once more. What does he care? And his statement that the telomere therapy was some desperate stunt of an actress who had always resorted to her looks and never had any talent from the beginning? Those critics really don�t know anything. They�re decadents.

She wondered what she�d do that night as she rode through still ever congested EDSA level 3, watching the sidewalks as she did so. There were a number of street vendors and beggars. One old woman with wrinkled skin and stooped shoulders actually begged at her window as she crossed a roadlink onto level 2.

A flash of light and a tumble, joined later by blood gushing down her arm cut her thoughts short as she failed to notice a bus plowing into her car�s side.

Lucida awoke on a hospital bed, with a new arm, and a complete facelift. She stood up and tried to stretch. Her left arm felt different.

"Miss Pascual," a doctor said. He was standing by the doorway of the small room with blue walls and white curtains. "You met an accident on the road, but we�ve handled everything."

She eyed the room, and then the doctor, a middle-aged man with a badly grown beard dressed in a white coat. "What�s wrong with my arm, Doctor...?" she asked.

"Dr. Beltran. We had to replace it," he answered. "Your original arm was�uh�no longer usable."

"No longer usable?" Lucida asked, her eyes widening. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the ball-and-socket joint connecting your shoulder was, shall we say, severely fragmented," he answered, now eyeing her intently.

"Will this one," she began, as her eyes turned to her new arm which she tuned at the wrist repeatedly, as if modeling it before a camera, "work without complications?"

"Yes, ma�am."

"Can I be given a mirror?" The doctor handed her one from his pocket. Lucida immediately surveyed her face. If she had not been concentrating on the mirror for too closely, she�d have noticed Dr. Beltran staring at her.

"The arm will feel funny at first, but you should be able to get used to it in a couple of days." the doctor said, while Lucida continuously kept flexing the fingers. Lucida handed the mirror back.

"When can I go?" she asked. "You�ll need one day of rest, and another for some final medical tests on your physiology and mental functions, then you can get back to work. It shouldn�t be much trouble."

She nodded, while still flexing the fingers. "Is there anything else, Dr. Beltran?" she asked, noting that he just stood at the doorway, waiting. "Yes," the doctor answered." We�ll need your social security for the payment of your surgery."

Only a fool wouldn�t have noticed the electronic document on Lucida�s terminal the morning three days after. And Lucida was no fool. It was Viveka Films contract. Screaming 24 pt bold text graced the face of the remote document. CONTRACT TERMINATED. Lucida sat down first, and then began reading through the document, wondering what technical blooper it was this time. She ran through quickly, passing through the legal jargon for later perusal.

GROUNDS: LEGALLY A DIFFERENT ENTITY

What? Lucida asked herself, scratching her head. There was a slight difference in the touch sensation as she did so, but her mind didn�t really focus on that at the time. She ran through the document again.

ATTACHED HEREWITH ARE THE MEDICAL RECORDS RELEVANT TO THE MATTER. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MODULAR ENHANCEMENTS

1. Carbon-fiber reinforced lower-leg units (May 2041)
2. Carbon-fiber reinforced spine (May 2041)
3. Boron-epoxy reinforcement on spine. (June 2041)

MODULAR REPLACEMENTS

1. Auto-refractive plastic retina <both eyes> (November 2035)
2. Total overhaul of reproductive system. (January 2027)
3. Full replacement of left arm. (August 2041)

OTHER PHYSIOLOGICAL MODS

Telomere therapy of skin and muscle tissue, resulting in a de-aging of physical appearance to approximately 25 years of age. (August 2041)

MENTAL FUNCTIONS

Within definitions of normalcy

�NOTE: Of core memory functions, over 22% are artificial additions stored in the extended memory blocks. These are probably the result of overuse of memory patch programs. Recommend a gradual withdrawal from the device.

OBSERVATIONS: Subject is markedly of a different physiological make-up from natural self. Mental functions are sufficiently skewed as well. Recommend that old patient files be purged and a new one opened as a different entity to prevent computer access difficulty. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Signed: Dr. Beltran.

Lucida paused for several seconds, her mind blank. Then her hands slowly gave her terminal the commands to contact her lawyer.

That night, the neon lights, red and purple, from the multi-story buildings seemed to mix with the silver fluorescence of the full moon. Lucida watched the scene closely as she sat down on her third floor balcony, silent. She ran her hand through her newly sienna-dyed hair as she surveyed the scene. She still felt her hand was different.

Lucida stood up and walked back into her house�s upper living room. Three plush couches, made of turquoise fabric, lined the center of the chamber, from which one was afforded a view of the old style paintings lining the wall, above the shelf with books made of real paper and not software data. She sat down.

Her eyes shifted from the mountainscape scene of one of the paintings to her right hand, which she raised to eye level. She opened a latch at her wrist, revealing a small maintenance console for the internal mechanics. She imagined herself letting a lone tear slip into the internals, but her plastic eyes couldn�t do that. She let her eyes refocus on the exterior of her arm, as she let the fingers flex into a loose fist and back out. Lucida didn�t really care. It�s not my hand anymore, she thought.