There
was a burst of white light. Brighter and different from any I had seen before.
Every other light was brightest at its center and faded outwards. This light
seemed to have a cold dark center. There was no telling how far it went, my
face was already pressed up against the porthole, but I guessed forever. I had
never seen a sun before, but this didn't seem like the true fire I imagined. I
relaxed, letting my eyes lose focus, but
thinking about the thermal implants in my retinas.
The
world changed color, though not like I had expected it to. Heat signatures spiked,
showing up in hot reds, yellows, and whites, and then almost as quickly faded to
a cool black. I had expected there to be something, debris on the other side
other window, and I had expected it to be hot. I
focused, and even as my eyes filtered out the ambient warm air and the heat
of our drifting pod, I could tell there was nothing out there floating in the void.
As I continued to watch, the small window slowly rotated, changing the angle of
the stars.
The
cabin was dark again now except for the dim green glow of the medical screens. I
was disappointed. The doctor had never told me where we were going. I knew that
the ship we we had been on was headed to a combat zone so they should have been prepared for a fight. I knew we were headed for a combat zone,
because I had figured out that I was built for combat too.
My
companion snored slightly. I wasn’t sure if waking up was going to be a
problem.
As I
far as I could remember I had only woken up three times. All three times it was
to the doctors standing around me with their tiny blue pen lights. I could feel
bands of energy moving through my tissue, so I assumed that they were probing
me, scanning for something.
***
The first time I had woken up the doctors didn’t notice. I couldn’t open my eyes, or move my body, but I came into consciousness. It was disorienting. I could feel the static tingle of my body trying to wake up, and the sore tissue in my throat and arms where medical equipment had been removed.
I tried
to think about what I had been sent in for but I ran into several problems. I could
remember detailed information about hundreds of medical procedures, but I
couldn’t remember ever receiving one. I knew what a doctor was, but I hadn’t
opened my eyes yet so I wasn’t aware that the people speaking around me were
those, or how different they were from the smiling multicultural array of
cataloged images.
I tried
not to concentrate on all of the injuries that were running through my mind,
and as I realized I had no memories of being sick, I started to think maybe I
could have had one. Maybe I was paralyzed and these people had found me. I
tried to think about where I might be. I could remember thousands of locations
across hundreds of planets, millions of battle sites scattered across the
cosmos, but I had no idea where I was, where I was from, or anywhere I had ever
been. There were images in mind of a planet, strange detailed pictures with
sounds that I could feel as though I had run through it blindfolded. The
memories of the planet had no smells, which was strange. I had strange memories
of pungent aromas but none came to mind as a favorite or even unpleasant.
Right
now I could smell surgical antiseptic, blood, aftershave, perfume, burnt
tobacco, grilled meat from the Capra genus, and the root of the Amoracia
rusticana. I could remember tastes, but most of them were ingredients. I tried
to think about food, because I was very hungry, but again I drew a blank.
“Fascinating,
its heart rate is close to twelve beats per minute, but its blood pressure is
one sixty over ninety, for an eight year old that should be fatal.” It was a
man’s voice, deep.
I was
eight years old. That surprised me. I had almost no memories of children. I
thought about people, and images started coming to me. I couldn’t put any faces
to name, but still more faces started racing through my mind.
“The
walls of his cells are thicker than a Cratonine Core Fish.” A woman’s voice. An
image of a strange tube shaped beast, and a sphere of water larger than planet
flashed through my mind. “When he starts running his muscles are going to fire
like goddamn pistons.” More animals started flashing through my memory, first
by the hundreds, then more images of the places they lived, the food webs in
which they structured. Against this the human faces continued to strobe, and I
felt a cold press at the back of my head as I could feel a wave of information
start to form.
“Aren’t
you counting your chickens, Kartokoff” Another man, this one higher pitched and
nasal. From the streams of information that were beginning to twist together, a
species of small ground bird and strangely one of the few tastes that I seemed
to know came to mind.
“No,
they were designed to be fool proof, even without this therapy the batch would
be more than twice the match of a platoon of Tamerlans.” The woman made a
squeaking sound as she repeatedly expelled air. “Assuming someone bothered to
wake them up.” I started seeing images of people sleeping, people waking,
working, walking around and even copulating. Still more animals, planets,
cities, and people joined them.
“Doctor
Kartokoff has a point.” The first man with the baritone spoke again. “Once the
subjects have been activated they will begin to develop the long term tactile
enhancements.” His voice sounded as though he was stating the obvious. “This therapy today is for the specific
treatments the clients requested. With this tech at full size one of these
things will be able to kill an A’quoin bull ox barehanded or two platoons of
Tamerlans.” The image that jumped out of the growing ocean was an enormous four
legged mammal, with short bristling fir and four jutting horns above its long
face. More images, these of men with enormous spears standing around the
monsters ankles and stabbing at its belly. More images of animals being killed,
trapped, hunted and butchered joined the ocean and it started becoming harder
to concentrate as the cold feeling grew.
The
woman made the squeaking cough again, and the first man joined her, though his
cough was slower and less grating. The second man said “You joke, but these things
could be dangerous.” His voice had an edge to it now.”You’re right, when we’re
finished today this Jenin will be unstoppable.” The word Jenin sounded from a
thousand news clips and history texts. More images of violence, now the people
began to do experiments on each other. “You all remember what happened on
Mars.” I remember a strange cold filling
my entire body. Images of humans killing each other. More than I could
understand. Fighting, executing, massacring.
“Umm,
you guys” I could barely understand at the time but the woman Kartokoff finally
noticed my distress, “something’s happening.” She didn’t sounded worried, more
intrigued. Something was happening, something had broken. The streams of
information had already grown past the hundreds and began to multiply to the
thousands. In my mind there weren’t ten thousand tiny screens laid out in a
mat, but a single screen with ten thousand individual images each fighting for
focus in my mind’s eye, being watched in a constant stream. On each one there
were pictures of violence, of millions of people fighting and dying every
second.
“Lazris,
you said this neural feed would hold.” The second man was a different story,
his voice was worried. A hand covered in latex roughly pulled my eye open. There was a bright blue light, it moved in
and out of my vision. One eye closed and then the other was given the same
treatment.
“It is
holding, it’s still setting up databases and wiring up hard function.” My mind
was no longer calling forward images to fill in blanks in my understanding. His
words didn’t mean anything.
“Well
his CTI is showing dangerous levels of activity in sixty percent of the brain.”
The second man’s voice was frenetic now. A strange roar began to build in my
ears and hearing became harder.
“Damn
it Tran, stop bitching and give him a sedative.” Lazris bellowed from just
across the room, but against the noise of building waves he sounded miles
distant.
“No!” I heard a crash of metal on metal as Kartokoff
moved quickly closer to me. There was a wet click and suddenly all other sound
stopped except for her voice. “His system can’t keep up, give him a sedative
and he’ll short circuit, he needs adrenaline.” There was a hiss, so soft and
gentle it seemed like it had come from my own head.
In the
sudden silence of my mind the men’s howls were deafening. I heard crashes of
metal and breaking glass, and felt the smallest of stings on the side of my
neck. With a burst of fire like electricity I opened my eyes for the first
time. Kartokoff, more elderly than I had imagined, was being restrained by the
two others, both clutching her wrists. It was too late, the needle in her hand
was empty. The last thing I heard as fire and electricity were replaced with a
roar and whine of sound. ”No!” “The neural feed!”
***
The memory still made little sense. I haven’t met Kartokoff since, and I’m not sure if the other two ever realized that I had been conscious.
Continue to Part 2
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