The shimmering metal tree begins to shiver and ripple as I staunch the flow of blood from my wounds. The liquid copper feeding it ceases to flow and the growing virus program begins to collapse in on itself. I remain kneeling on the floor of the room and watch as it begins to liquify again. The coppery liquid begins to lose its color, becoming more and more silver, then the column of liquid seems to look at me without eyes, with an intelligence unable to understand what I have done, why I would not die for something that gave me everything I wanted. It has never before encountered a living person so ungrateful, because all of its other children are just that: children who know no other life, no other way. It looks at me for what seems like a very long time, then I hear the voice speak for the last time.