FORM AND FUNCTION

摘要

The tattoos are hungry. I can feel them burning on my skin, see their phosphorescence fade ever so slightly. Their appetite is different from mine; I get hungry when my body needs food, but the Mosaic is hungry when its nutrient level runs low, and it seldom is so when I myself am hungry. Rolling over in my tiny sleep-tube, I can feel the hum of Whimsy's engines, the ship decelerating from its long trip. I reach into a morph-bag hanging from the wall, withdraw a half-used nutrient tube, and begin to rub the sweet-smelling ointment into my skin. Instantly, I can feel the burning sensation subside as the Mosiac absorbs the sustenance in the lotion.rnThe Mosaic can feed from protein in my blood, but its cells have to shift metabolism to do so, creating waste materials that stimulate my nerves, alerting me to the change in the tattoos' dietary preferences. The nutrients in the ointment will keep the Mosaic satiated for a few days, less if they have to expend energy to keep me warm or provide extra light.rnThat's they way che Mosaic was engineered, to be as much a part of me as I'm willing to let it. If I decided to fast, voluntarily or otherwise ("otherwise" being the more common circumstance in my lifestyle), the countless cells of the Mosaic would just keep feeding, mindlessly stealing from my blood as my body starved. When I die, the tattoos will live on, consuming leftover nutrients in the blood and carrying on in post-mortem activity along with my hair and fingernails. If the tiny microprocessor in my skull remains intact, the networked cells of the tattoos will continue to run preset programs of light and color; I may look more alive when I'm dead than I do now.