Martin actually laughed. “You can’t screen for these conditions. There’s the small print that says we might not wake up in the same sort of bodies we went into the scanner wearing, but do you think anyone predicted this?” She held up a stubby leg. “I don’t think anyone really understands how the Forerunner can adapt brains. It’s a machine learning algorithm—a black box. If you really want to have some nightmares, think about all the generations that didn’t make it. How many ponies came up half formed, with almost-people tortured and confused inside, their whole lives only misery, unable to survive outside the Biofab tank. You think there were a dozen? A thousand? The Forerunner won’t say how many if you ask.”