New Markets - 02 Read Online Free PDF Page A

returned to washing off with paper towels, soap and water.  She stepped over to the sink and changed the water to cold, and proceeded to work the blood out of my top.  Then she changed the other sink to run cold water instead of hot.
    The mindviews of the men outside stayed on the memory of me standing there nude.  They even began to quietly discuss my body out in the hallway.
    She said, “You should use cold water to wash out blood.”
    “Oh.  Thanks.”  The pain lessened as the minutes went by.
    “You’re in great shape, do you work out?”
    “I used to.  I don’t know if I need to or not now.  I’ve been told that we don’t need to.”
    “Are you a new meta?”
     “Yeah.”  I looked at my face in the mirror.  I put my hand on the counter as another moment of dizziness swept over me.  It appeared that my face was clean, but there was no way I’d get the blood out of my hair in here.  I sighed as I held a length of my hair out.
    The officer looked at my hair.  “That’s not coming clean without a shower.”
    “I know.  Ah well, at least I can be mostly clean going down there.  I don’t want to be ridiculed for getting shot so much.”
    “Oh, most of the guys will probably think you pretty brave, being as you are now walking around.  They might get on your case for getting knocked out during the fight though.”
    “Damn, you’re right.”  Another bullet wiggled its way out and rang as it bounced on the floor.
    I continued, “Well, this will have to due.”
    She handed me the top and worked at washing the bottoms while I slid the top up my legs.  Pulling it down over my head would just re-bloody it on my hair.   Good thing this material stretched so much.  It was actually amazingly small when not being worn, much like spandex.  She squeezed the water out of the bottoms and handed them to me.  I slid them on next.
    I felt motion in my abdomen, lifted my top and another bullet came out.  Yet another wound that looked much like an angry welt.  I picked up the two bullets.
    She asked, “Does that hurt?”  She visualized watching a bullet come out.
    “Yes, it does.  Oh, you mean when they push their way out.  Not too much for that, it’s an odd wiggling sensation.  The welts and wounds with bullets still in them hurt though.  Shall we go visit the kidnapper?  Thanks for helping me, by the way.”
    “Glad to help.  Better than one of those guys trying to come in and help.”  She stared at my chest for a moment.  “Wait a second.  You got shot right here.”  She pointed near the inner part of my right breast.
    “Yeah.”
    “Your costume doesn’t have a hole in it.”
    “Oh yeah, very cool.  She said it was self-repairing.”  Dr. Turnquist rocks.  I wonder how much she would charge me for just a new top and bottom for my costume.
    “Wow, that’s neat.”
    “Now if only it self cleaned.”  Most of the blood had come out, but some of the costume was more pink than white.  The costumes we’d had custom made by Dr. Turnquist were a special fabric, one that would mend itself so long as it still had the fabric.  A sort of DNA, the Doctor had said, which remembered the way it ought to be.  It was stronger than normal spandex as well, so our costumes wouldn’t be torn up by minor fights or tears.
    “So, ah, did you change much when you went meta?”  She was thinking physically, and wondered about my hair and body shape.
    “Yeah, my hair all fell out and regrew this almost metallic gold color.  My eyes changed.  I added muscle all over, though I wasn't skinny before, just toned.  Now it looks like I do more weight lifting, though I can lift hundreds of pounds pretty easily.  I don't seem to need support any more.  Why do you ask?”
    “I don't know, I've just never had the chance to actually talk to a meta.  Stumbling across one, ah, nude was unexpected.”
    “Great, so I'm just a 'meta' to you?  Plus, I had undies, boots and facemask on.”
    She