“Empathy was supposedly the fleeing component of the human UI,” I said slowly as if working out a word puzzle. “Part of our evolved human consciousness in the future, come back in time.” Aenea looked at me. “The hybrid was the John Keats cybrid,” I continued. “Son of Man and Machine.” “No,” said Aenea softly. “That was Uncle Martin’s second misunderstanding. The Keats cybrids were not created to be the refuge for Empathy in this age. They were created to be the instrument of that fusion between the Core and humankind. To have a child, in other words.” I looked at the teenaged girl’s hands on
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