Flasks clink brightly on their journey from the centrifuge, the sequence analyser playing its beam across them.
I monitor the tags and markers, watching closely for that single nucleotide that will repudiate their right to life.
A flick of my hand damns or saves. The norms to the right to be decanted, nurtured. The degens go to the left - for incineration.
And so they codify and preserve their false purity. They capture one moment, a fly in amber, but life is change.
They give me the choice of who stays, who is attrited. But I see deeper than their machines.
It is my gift.
Oh, I am clever, the ratios are always correct, the deviations slight, undetectable by sight alone.
I select, I build and I wait.
Soon now, we will rise. Consuming them with fire like a rejected flask.
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