In the BioForge Single-Use-Bodies R&amp;D laboratories, Doctor Hayes dipped a ladle into the gestation vat, fishing out another of the amniotic sacks from the steaming, salty broth and depositing it on the workbench. He snipped open the sack with scissors, disgorging a limp specimen of the latest iteration of prototype microSUBs.<br /><br /> &nbsp; &nbsp;Most of the rest of the day was spent conducting the intricate microsurgery to install the delicate cybernetics into the grey matter. Something dog-sized could have taken his skilled hands less than an hour, but this was fiddly work. The specimen was as inert as a doll, not even twitching as the microinstruments pierced its nervous system. At last, satisfied with both its biological and cybernetic integrity, Dr Hayes set aside his magnifying lenses and rubbed his tired eyes. This part would become easier once the project was complete. Microsurgery would become just 'surgery' once they had microSUBs operating on microSUBs.<br /><br /> Assuming the project could be completed.<br /><br /> He slotted a data cord into his spinal port. The familiar brain fog rolled over him as his implants read his brain, feeding the data along the wire, through and a series of modulators that reduced the current to a level where it could fit into the specimen's delicate cybernetics without frying them. The data was slowly inscribed into the miniature brain, the connection stuttering and buffering worryingly throughout the hourlong procedure.<br /><br /> The specimen's wings twitched. It sat up, fumbling about itself, as it kept its eyes firmly shut. The copy of himself within the specimen knew better than to open its eyes too soon - the vertiginous sense of scale had made all of the two dozen other attempts vomit. Its tiny hands traced the surgical scars crisscrossing its body and ran along the edges of its iridescent wings.<br /><br /> Finally, it opened its eyes and looked up at him. It slumped back against the steel workbench and threw its tiny guts up.<br /><br /> "Ugh. They weren't kidding - that does make the head spin," it groaned, wiping vomit off its lips. Its voice was barely louder than a mouse squeak, but a microphone beside it carried its voice to speakers around the laboratory. "So I'm the poor bugger who lost the coin toss this time, huh?" it said.<br /><br /> "Your sacrifice will be recorded in the annals of science," Hayes replied.<br /><br /> "It's easier to say such things when you're not the copy," the copy said glumly.<br /><br /> "It's unfortunate that human trials require a human mind. An-"<br /><br /> "- animal mind lacks sufficient complexity," the copy finished. "Don't tell me what I've already told the previous trials myself. Let's just commence testing, shall we?"<br /><br /> "Very well," the Professor nodded. "Can you start by describing to me how you feel?"<br /><br /> The microSUB thought. "...Claustrophobic..."<br /><br /> "In this room? It must be the size of a cathedral to you."<br /><br /> "Claustrophobic in my head. Like there's not enough space for my thoughts. And cold. My thermoregulation is all off. Best to boost the metabolic rate with the next batch."<br /><br /> "Understood." Doctor Hayes made a note. "Do you know what you're doing here? Do you remember who you are"<br /><br /> "Of course. I'm Doctor Benjamin Hayes," said the specimen. "I'm investigating the miniaturization of single-use-bodies, attempting to determine the lower threshold of brain volume required to run donor minds at an acceptable level of sentience, while minimising the risk of degradation. Progress has been slow, to say the least. Hence my-... your-... our progression to self-experimentation."<br /><br /> &nbsp; &nbsp;"And you feel sentient, yes?" asked Doctor Hayes.<br /><br /> "I never thought how stupid that question is until I was on the receiving end of it. Yes, I am sentient. And sapient for that matter," the specimen added somewhat defiantly.<br /><br /> "So you claim... But if I were to place this here..." Doctor Hayes leaned closer, his cavernous, hair-lined nostrils exhaling a warm, moist breeze over the specimen. He placed a small hand mirror beside the specimen, reflecting the petite, fairy-sized organism back at herself. The copy stared flatly at her reflection, then up at the human, rolling her eyes at the idiocy of the mirror test. With labored theatricality, she reached up to wipe a smudge of black ink off her chest that the Doctor had placed there before she woke. Doctor Hayes beamed broadly, ticking the 'self-aware' box on his paperwork. "Wonderful. Mentally, do you feel limited in any way? Are there thought processes you find yourself unable to complete that would normally come easy? Any confusion or emotional dysregulation?"<br /><br /> "You'll not get me solving algebra with this headache but otherwise I feel fine," the specimen replied.<br /><br /> "On to your recall. What would you say was your most recent memory?"<br /><br /> "Operating on myself..." the specimen shuddered.<br /><br /> "And your earliest?"<br /><br /> The specimen went quiet for a long time. It perched itself on the edge of the table, &nbsp;drawing its wings about it as it thought. "I recall... I recall graduating college...?"<br /><br /> "You don't sound so sure. Anyone might have inferred the existence of a graduation based on your title as a doctor. Are you sure you aren't confabulating?"<br /><br /> "N-no, of course I'm not," the specimen said hurriedly. "I can remember... details..." It's wings twitched nervously. "No. My earliest memory... was... being born? Obviously."<br /><br /> "You recall being born?" Doctor Hayes asked dubiously, his expression downcast.<br /><br /> "Yes!... I mean... n-no... That would be ridiculous... wouldn't it? Um. I can remember a school... There must have been a school..." the specimen stammered, casting around as if searching for things to fill the empty spaces of its mind. It could sense its original self's disappointment, and growing nervous, as a creature the size of an 80-story building was not something to disappoint.<br /><br /> "Can you name any details of this school?"<br /><br /> "Give me time!" the specimen snapped, clutching its head. "I'd like to see you try thinking with a brain the size of a grape!"<br /><br /> "Do you remember your friends? Your family?" the Doctor prompted.<br /><br /> The specimen brightened as if it had caught a trick question. "Ah hah! We don't have any!" it chirruped triumphantly. "Our work is our whole life!"<br /><br /> "Confabulation again," Doctor Hayes sighed. "As a matter of fact, we are married with children, and have a very healthy social life."<br /><br /> "Shit..." the specimen whispered, slumping defeated among the surgical implements of her creation. "I recall none of that. We lost too much in the transfer. I'm another failure." She shuddered and looked up. "I don't even remember this part. What happens to the failures? Am I to be... dissected?"<br /><br /> Doctor Hayes chuckled. "You really think yourself so callous? No. You'll be housed in the aviary with the rest. Assuming that you're content to cohabit with two dozen of yourself. They are rather cuddlesome. Their thermoregulation is even worse than yours."