They say that once a generation, a genius is born.

Of course, they are wrong. In a generation, many geniuses may be born. Perhaps in the distant past, this was not noticed due to child mortality and the favoring of some fields over others. Brilliant artists and writers are often not appreciated in their lifetime.

And sometimes, the opposite occurs. A field can stagnate, advances progressing at a snails pace. Even the field itself can be lost.

Until someone takes it up...

The patio doors were open to the breeze. No sound was heard, except for the whishing of the soft curtains against the floor and the slow, rhythmic beeping of the monitoring equipment.

The girl in the chair blinked, wet her lips, and transmitted a command through a conduit implanted directly into her brain. A TV turned on, and began to change channels. Eventually, she settled on a romantic comedy featuring a young man and three women all vying for his affections. It wasn't that amusing, and finally the TV flipped off. She sighed, closing her eyes.

For a long time, there was no sound. Then the soft sound of footsteps made her open her eyes again. The chair turned slightly in response to another command, so she was looking at the doorway to the rest of the house.

Her brother stepped into the room. His hair was as blond as hers, but actually longer. Hers had been shaved off for the endless surgeries and not allowed to grow past the length of a crew cut since. It was easier on the nurses who washed her and actually more comfortable. His eyes were a warm, sympathetic blue, and her lips twitched into a smile just seeing them.

For the rest, he was homely, almost ugly. Still, she was certain some girl would want see the bright inner spirit and want him someday.

"How are you today, Jennie?" He smiled, sitting down beside her. She smiled, and a tiny computer monitor set next to her arm flashed her answer.

A bit bored. And that wretched woman earlier insisted that I eat my spinach. She made a face, as much as she could, as her brother laughed. Go ahead, make fun of the cripple.

"Sorry Jennie." He said, instantly contrite. "I just can't imagine anyone making you eat spinach. She didn't force it down your throat, did she?"

No, worse. She called me a puddim pie and said I needed to be a good girl and eat my spinach. I think she's mentally deficient. If she weren't so good at the bathing, I would say get rid of her. Jeannie's lips twitched again, into the expression that served her as a smile. How is the project coming, David? When will it be ready? There was burning eagerness in her eyes, and her brother took her hand.

"Soon, Jennie, soon. Have you been practicing the simulations?"

Every chance I get. Please, let it be soon! This is a living death. She had been trapped, completely paralyzed, since a Maverick attack six months ago.

Jeannie closed her eyes briefly, remembering. Ever since she was a little girl, she had wanted to be a dancer. It hadn't just been a child's whim, it had been a calling.

And she had been good at it. She had practiced all kinds of dances, but she had just been accepted as a lead in the New York City ballet when…

A tear ran down her cheek. As such things went, she had been lucky. Her friends and coworkers hadn't been. She couldn't name five people she knew who had escaped the wreckage that had been the downtown core… she had only been spared by a fluke. Although not much had been spared.

As it turned out, her nerves scarred easily. Her body had rejected any attempts at cyborg technology… all of them required neural connections at some level or other. The only thing that had taken was the neural tap she used to communicate and run the chair, but that was nothing new. It had been installed when she was only a child and her body had been more flexible.

Fortunately, there was more than enough money for her care and her brother's work. Their family tree had not fared well in the Maverick wars, and a great Aunt had won a lottery nearly fifty years ago. Her brother, a niece and herself were the very last left and had inherited everything. That had given them a great deal of freedom... although it had come at a ruinous price.

"It should be done in less than a week." David said soothingly, patting her hand. "Just be patient, Jennie. Be patient."

I understand. She tried to smile again. I can wait a little longer. Take all the time you need. Soon, she would be free.