The Human Division

I propose a toast. Here’s to being right all the time. May God and history forgive us.” They all clinked glasses to that.

Captain Sophia Coloma looked every inch of what she was, which was the sort of person who was not here to put up with your shit.

Do your people have racists? People who believe they are inherently superior to all other types of intelligent people?” “We have some,” Sorvalh said. “They’re generally agreed to be idiots.

The reality is more complicated, but as with most humans, the people on Earth prefer the simple answer.

I’m a ‘the glass is half-empty and filled with poison’ kind of guy, actually,

Wes is Wes,” Alastair said. “One in every family. I love him, but I think of him as a sarcastic pet.

Mom, I remember Lizzie,” Hart said. “She’s really not my type.” “She has a brother,” Wes said, from his lounge. “He’s not my type, either,” Hart said.

Lovely,” Wilson said, looking at the display. “And by ‘lovely,’ I mean ‘Oh, crap.

Remember that the plant wants to eat you,” the groundskeeper said. “It’s not going to let you get away. Don’t fight it. Let yourself be eaten.” “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m finding your advice to be less than one hundred percent helpful,

I don’t think it matters what age you are when you figure it out,” Brous said. “I think the important thing is to figure it out before someone else tells you what you want to be, and they get it wrong.

We have a problem,” he said. “Is this another ‘I think we have a potential energy flow’ kind of problem?” Coloma asked. “No, this is a ‘Holy shit, we’re all definitely going to die a horrible death in the cold endless dark of space’ kind of problem,” Basquez said. “We’ll be right down,” Coloma said.

General Gau had thanked for her candor in this as in all other things and then went ahead and did it anyway.

You strike me as a ‘glass half-empty’ kind of guy, sir,” he said. “I’m a ‘the glass is half-empty and filled with poison’ kind of guy, actually,” Wilson said.

Just because I look like a human being doesn’t mean I am. This body has more genetic material that’s not strictly human than it does material that is human. And it heavily integrates machines as well. My blood is actually a bunch of nanobots in a fluid. I am and every other CDF soldier is a genetically-modified cyborg.” “But you’re still you, right?” Lowen asked. “You’re still the same person you were when you left Earth. Still the same consciousness.” “That’s a question of some contention among us soldiers,” Wilson said, setting his arm back down. “When you transfer over to the new body, the machine that does the transfer makes it at least seem like for an instant you’re in two bodies at once. It feels like you as a person make the transfer. But I think it’s equally possible that what happens is that memories are transferred over to a brain specially prepared for them, it wakes up, and there’s just enough cross talk between the two separate brains to give the illusion of a transfer before the old one shuts down.” “In which case, you’re actually dead,” Lowen said. “The real you. And this you is a fake.” “Right.” Wilson took another sip of his drink. “Mind you, the CDF could show you graphs and charts that show that actual consciousness transfer happens. But I think this is one of those things you can’t really model from the outside. I have to accept the possibility that I could be a fake Harry Wilson.” “And this doesn’t bother you,” Lowen said. “In a metaphysical sense, sure,” Wilson said. “But in a day-to-day sense, I don’t think about it much. On the inside, it sure feels like I’ve been around for ninety years, and ultimately this version of me likes being alive. So.

Listen, you have to understand something. In all of the history of professional sports, the Cubs are the ultimate symbol of complete failure. The championship of baseball is something called the World Series, and it’s been so long since the Cubs have won it that no one who is alive could remember the last time they won it. It’s so long that no one alive knew anyone who was alive when they won it. We’re talking centuries of abject failure here.

I’m trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up. A nice thing to wonder about when you’re thirty.

You really are insane, you know that,” Schmidt said, after a moment. “I always think it’s funny when people get told what they are by other people,” Wilson said. “As if they didn’t already know.

High-risk, high-reward situations where the path to success isn’t laid out but has to be cut by machetes through a jungle filled with poison toads.

A newspaper publisher. In the late 1800s the United States and Spain were warming up for a war over Cuba, and Hearst sent an illustrator to Cuba to make pictures of the event. When the illustrator got there, he sent a telegram to Hearst saying that as far as he could see, there was no war coming and that he was going home. Hearst sent back that he should stay and said, ‘You furnish the pictures, and I will furnish the war.’ And he did.

The rest of the rebels were recruited from the ranks of the young and excitable and had rather more enthusiasm than skill.

You’re saying I am not a credible eyewitness,” Lowen repeated. “Because I was part of that diplomatic mission, Mr. Vinicius. In fact, not only was I there, I also conducted the autopsy that established that Liu Cong’s death was murder, and also helped identify how it was the murder was accomplished. When you say that the eyewitness reports are not credible, you’re talking about me, specifically and directly. If what you’re saying actually reflects the opinion of the Ministry of External Relations, then we have a problem. A very large problem.

You asked for help,” Wilson said. I also tried to blow up your ship with you in it. “That was before you knew me,” Wilson said. I’m sorry about that. “I’m not going to tell you not to be sorry,” Wilson said, “but I can understand wanting to get your body back.

This is my first time working with a human,” Werd said, to Wilson. “How’s it going so far?” Wilson asked. “Not bad,” Werd said. “You’re kind of ugly, though.” “I get that a lot,” Wilson said. “I bet you do,” Werd said. “I won’t hold it against you.” “Thanks,” Wilson said. “But if you smell, I’m pushing you out an airlock,” Werd said.

This is the same Lizzie Chao who I went to high school with,” Hart said. “I believe so,” Isabel said. “She’s married,” Hart said. “She’s separated,” Isabel said. “Which means she’s married with an option to trade up,” Catherine said.

This brings me back to my question about my karma,” Wilson said. “You probably set kittens on fire,” Schmidt said. “And the rest of us were probably there with you, with skewers.

He decided he’d rather die as a fundamentally decent human being than live as the sort of asshole who’d tear out someone’s liver to get into an escape pod.

Is it painful?" the groundskeeper asked. "I am asking for science.

You’re very good with children,” the woman said, noting Sorvalh’s responses and tone. “I spend my days dealing with human diplomats,” Sorvalh said. “Children and diplomats can be remarkably similar.

I will, and this is a promise, kick your ass.” “Have you ever kicked anyone’s ass?” Hirsch asked. “Ever? You were always kind of a girly-girl.” Lowen slugged Hirsch in the arm. “I’ve been saving my kick-assery up for a special occasion,” she said. “This could be it. You should feel honored.

I don’t appreciate being called a liar in front of my friends,” Pandit said. He took his hand off Wilson’s shoulder. “Then don’t lie in front of your friends,” Wilson said. “It’s pretty simple, actually.