Matter composite

Biomass reconflabulator



I was given the strangest thing to piece back together to]]!!!y. Phagey said it came in from the grey range, and that I'd had patients like it before. Hundreds, even. I have to take his word for it; maybe he means some other layer's Tori. I've certainly never seen quite so many bones and organs and sticky membranes all wrapped up in a big bag of skin. Maybe half the parts, when something stumbles in from the abysses, but those usually weren't even their parts to begin with.

I thought maybe they'd been in some terrible accident, but they didn't respond to individual resuscitation, verbal coercion, corrosive therapy or even putting hats on them. Amazingly, they only seem to work when put together just the right way. This thing is like several hundred other entities all glued together and they can't even function separately. I don't think they even experience individual perception; one of them does almost all the cognitive duties for the collective. I think it's the brain, but even that couldn't hold a conversation on its own. It didn't even respond to the coffee.

Phage drew me up a schematic for fixing it, even took a few snapshots of the way it's supposed to look. It's not all hard to rebuild when you have a guide, but the thing just keeps getting itself broken again. Phage is off writing up his peer reviews and I don't even know if he knows how many t111/// I've had to repeat the same job. My other patients have been waiting for h|||&&s while I squeeze in their appointments between reconstituting the same sack of doo-dads.

Luckily, it exists in enough doomed layers that there's no short supply of fresh parts, but that in itself is troubling, isn't it?

I didn't know so many layers were going to end so abruptly.

...Did they alw@@@@???3 or is it just my perception?


"Doctor, that goes on the INSIDE," "Doctor, I'm conscious," "Doctor, I was supposed to have four of those," "Doctor, I swear, I'm conscious," yakkety yak, yak. Look, I didn't strip my last spiral attending The School's biomedical subrange for some fleshbank to tell me how to do my work. You think it's easy when you flail around like a wagdabz jellifying its first glistermoon? You do your job, which is get taken apart and put back together, and I'll do my job, which is either taking you apart or putting you back together.

What? You want both? In a specific order? Oh, sure thing, YOUR MAJESTY.

The nerves of some conceptual-material nodes, I swear. And the rest of their anatomy, too.