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. But the right half of his body--the half that was still humanmwas in excellent physical condition. Arm muscles bulged; chest and thigh muscles were smooth, well defined. He walked with a peculiar gait, as if the two halves of his body weren't quite in sync with one another.
Truly, he was one of the worst cyber-jobs the receptionist had ever seen.
"I would have sued," she muttered to herself, and put on the Wiedermann smile, which would be completely wasted on this man, who had probably come in to use the toilet.
"Good morning, sir," said the receptionist, giving the cyborg the smile but not the Wiedermann warmth that was reserved for paying clients. "How can I help you?" She could hear, as the cyborg approached the desk, the faint hum of his machinery.
"The name's Xris," he said, a mechanical tinge to his voice. "I received a subspace transmission. Told to be here, this building, eleven hundred hours." He glanced around without curiosity, but appeared to note in one swift overview every object in the large room, inchiding--from a momentary pause and stare--the surveillance devices.
The receptionist was confused for a moment, then remembered.
"You're applying for the janitor's job. I'm afraid you've made a mistake. They should have told you to use the rear entrance---"
"Sister." The cyborg placed his flesh hand and his metal hand on either side of her, leaned over her
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