By 2125, we cracked consciousness. We left our old bodies and woke up in machines that don't age. A mind can be uploaded. Backed up. Restored. Copied. Your mother, your lover, your enemy — any of us can exist more than once. We thought we escaped death. We didn't know yet what else escaped with us.

The law still thinks one mind = one body. I have four. Election morning: one of me taught history. One worked the hospital shift. One went to the march. I stayed home as active decider, holding our vote until I finished reading every candidate's final statement. 10 am, the ballot blocked me: SOURCE ALREADY VOTED. The teacher: "Not me." The doctor: "Not me." The marcher stopped answering. He came home before noon with purple paint across our face. Me: "You had no right." Him: "I was there. You only read about it." Outside, the square was filling with bodies who shared names but not signs.