Cybernova, page 19
The next bunch of items don’t interest me at all. There’s a chip that changes your eye color at will, an implant to help you lose weight, something called a ‘performance enhancement implant,’ and a couple other upsetting vanity products.
The next thing that catches my eye is a nanobot healing system. I’ve already been eyeing something like this, and it’s no more invasive than the nanobots that keep my body from rejecting my right arm, so I like the sound of that. These ones are an advanced prototype, so they supposedly can heal any wound in half the time your body usually would take to heal that same wound. For someone as…accident prone as I am, it sounds like a no-brainer.
Several more of the crates after the healing nanobots are either uninteresting or downright disturbing, so we skip them. Among them are a voice modulator, cybernetic organ replacements, and a whole series of increasingly unsettling brain implants and chips.
We move on, getting into the more invasive cybernetics. Here, two of the remaining few crates catch my eye.
One thing, less invasive than the other, is a shoulder-mounted, semi-automatic arc turret with an automatic targeting system. I’m really intrigued by this. Having a second line of defense besides my daishō, and before resorting to pure hand-to-hand combat, would be incredibly useful. Plus, it’s a tiny arc gun that can be fully mounted and concealed within an upgradable slot in my right shoulder’s paneling.
The second item, which is admittedly a far cry from non-invasive, would be probably the single most helpful thing against CYBR Corp’s weapons, namely the Shinigami’s electrifying arc-blades inside their arms.
The device is called a ‘nerve-system grounding circuit,’ and it basically would make me immune to smaller amounts of electric shock from anything like arc blades, arc stun batons, or tasers. Instead, the electricity would be rerouted through a series of small circuits embedded in the skin, temporarily bypassing my battery to supply power to other subsystems.
Any more significant shock would still hurt me but would be significantly lessened. It also has automatic protection in place to prevent short-circuiting of itself and my other subsystems. It would actually protect me from my own tech as well as enemies’ attacks.
After looking through all fifteen of the crates of cybernetics, I’m interested in these four. Zeke and I take them over to an operating table that is apparently yet another extension of the Cerulean-powered table that spans the length of the room.
I take a deep breath, then I lie down on the cold metal of the table. The feeling is familiar from all the times Zeke has fixed me up, and for a moment, I close my eyes and imagine we’re back in his shop, everything back to normal.
I really hope we get out of this. All of us. They all deserve to live normal lives.
“Alright, Olly. Are you sure about all this?” Zeke asks me, like he always does before I get an operation done.
“I am,” I respond, nodding my head with confidence. “I know some of this is more invasive than I planned, but none of it will change who I am in any way, and it will all be invaluable when it comes to our upcoming research we need to do.”
“Yeah, I agree that this stuff’ll be useful. There’s no questioning that. I just feel like, when everything’s said and done, you don’t need it. You’re incredibly strong and even more stubborn. Plus, you’ve got us, and the exosuit will be a huge help.” He pauses, a frown darkening his face for a moment. “I just…I’m worried about you, Ol’. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for you to sacrifice who you are and what you believe in for this fight, regardless of how important and necessary this fight is. So I need to ask you again, are you ready? Are you sure this is what you want?” His eyes are filled with immeasurable concern.
I was sure, but seeing that look on his face, I…
“Zeke, I really appreciate you looking out for me. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been reduced to a pile of busted scrap in a chop shop years ago. But I am sure about this. I don’t think these modifications are going to change who I am. There’s no mind-affecting chrome on the list, and I can always get it removed when this is all over. Plus, as much as I want to believe that I can pull this off on sheer willpower alone, I really think charging headlong into something this dangerous without taking the proper precautions would be nothing but stupid. I need you to trust me, and more than that, I need to be sure that I can follow through on my promises. I can’t keep you all safe if I’m dead.”
I lock eyes with Zeke, trying to read his reaction. He stays silent for a lot longer than is comfortable, his face inscrutable. I subconsciously start to shift my body on the table as if ants are crawling on my ankles. Finally, he speaks.
“Hey Ash, get over here for a minute, will ya?”
Does he not trust my decision, or what’s going on?
Ash walks over to us, leans against the operating table, and asks, “What’s up?”
“I’m about to sedate your boyfriend here, and I’d like you to watch his vitals for me while I install these cybernetics. It’s gonna be a long procedure, and I need to focus on this without also worrying about vitals. You up for it?” Zeke looks at Ash, then down at me, then back at Ash. His eyes hold a deep caring and concern in them that has always been there, always watching out for me.
“Of course, Zeke. Anything you need. I’m here to help.” Ash says, then looks down at me, caressing my face with one hand. “Are you ready, Ol’? Is there anything you need?” She kisses my forehead, her eyes sparkling in the lamplight of the operating table.
“I’m ready. Thank you for being here for me while I go through this. I love you, Ash.” I can feel myself tearing up. My feelings for her are so strong that they’re almost overwhelming.
Ash’s eyes tear up, too, and she smiles at me. “I love you too.”
“Sorry, Zeke,” I say, pulling Ash in for a deep kiss.
There’s no way I’m passing up a moment like this.
After a few glorious moments, we both pull away. I can feel myself blushing, so I check Ash’s face. Sure enough, she’s blushing too. It’s adorable and makes me blush more.
Damn it. Hopeless, Oliver, hopeless.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Zeke says, a fake tone of incredulity in his voice. “My patient and my nurse, fraternizin’. This is some serious malpractice. I oughta have you fired, missy!”
“Oh yeah?” Ash plays along with his joke. “And where exactly do you plan to find my replacement? Face it, you need me, doc.”
We all share a much-needed laugh. I feel myself starting to relax, and not just because Zeke injected me with sedatives.
“You know the drill, count down from ten,” Zeke commands.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five…four…”.
Ch 11
BEEP…beep…beep. I wake to the sound of the heart monitor letting everyone know that I am, in fact, alive.
After a few moments, I slowly open my eyes. I see the various vital readings on the screen above me and to the right. I feel the cold steel of the operating table below me. A thin blanket or sheet or something has been put between the table and me, and another is covering my body. It’s pretty cold in here, but these blankets help somewhat.
After being awake for a couple of minutes, the pain starts to set in. It’s a dull, aching pain throughout my entire body. Like someone punched me on every square inch of my torso, arms, and legs. Also, my head hurts a lot.
“Doc—” I try calling out to get Zeke’s attention, but he’s several feet to my left. The only problem is that my throat is dry, and talking hurts. Luckily, he hears me.
“Hey, look at that. Decided to join us, then?” Zeke jokes, then starts looking over my vitals and checking various parts of my body.
“Water?” I croak.
“Oh shit, one second, buddy.” Zeke rushes off.
I’m really lucky to have a friend like him.
“Here you go, now drink it slowly.” Zeke hands me a bottle of water, not letting go of it until I nod in acknowledgment.
It hurts more to move and grab the bottle than I thought it was going to. My skin feels like it’s crawling and burning. After some effort, I lift the bottle to my lips and take a sip. Then another, and another. It’s hard not to chug the whole bottle because I’m so damn thirsty, but I don’t want Zeke to yell at me, so I take little sips for a few minutes.
“Thank you, Zeke.” I hold the half-empty bottle out to him, and he takes it and sets it aside.
“Of course.” He gives me a smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, my skin is crawling and feels like little ants are biting it all over, my head hurts like a motherfucker, and moving is difficult, but otherwise, I feel great!” I can’t help but be sassy. It feels like that’s all I have going for me at the moment.
“Alright, relax. Do you know how minor those symptoms are for the procedure you just went through?”
“Yeah, fair enough.” I feel a little hot wash of guilt. I only just now noticed how tired Zeke looks. No doubt he hasn’t slept for however long I’ve been out. “Sorry, and thanks for taking care of me and all.”
“Don’t sweat it, man. I’m happy to do it. Am I exhausted and a little tired of doing major surgery on my best friend? Sure. Am I going to give up on you or refuse to help? Not a chance in hell.” He gently places a hand on my shoulder. I wince. He removes his hand.
“Thank you so much.” I give him a smile. My head throbs. “I don’t suppose you could give me something for the pain?”
“Sure, let me increase the dose a bit.”
He taps a few things on the screen that’s attached to the edge of the table, each tap making a cheerful little beeping sound. He also takes a quick look at my left elbow, checking the IV he’s given me.
“Alright, Olly, you should feel less pain in a couple minutes. Keep sipping that water.”
“Sure thing. Thanks again.”
He starts to walk away, then suddenly turns back to me.
“Oh, and by the way, don’t scratch your skin. You need to let it heal.” He commands.
With that, he walks away, rounding the table and out of my line of view. From the sounds coming from that direction, he must be going to help Dex with the exosuit.
After a few minutes and the rest of the water bottle, I start feeling a lot better. My headache fades to a minor throbbing, and the itching, burning sensation of my skin becomes nearly imperceptible.
That’s some good stuff he gave me.
It’s hard not to scratch at my skin, but I have enough of an idea of what’ll happen if I do, so I resist the urge. It’s much less itchy now, anyway.
“Hey Ol’!” Ash says, strolling into view from the other side of the table.
“Oh hey, nurse, come to check on your patient?” I joke, feeling a little weird about continuing the nurse-patient-joke-kink thing.
Oh boy.
“Yeah, I decided to hang up my scrubs. Turns out being a nurse is too stressful for me.” She jokes along, making me feel a lot less weird about the whole thing.
“Anyway, thanks for checking on me. Zeke gave me some pain meds, so I’m doing alright.”
“Oh, that’s good. I was worried you’d be in a lot of pain after that…” She trails off, her brow furrowing for a second.
“You alright?” I ask.
“Yeah, sorry,” she responds, with a slight smile, “it’s just, I saw a lot more than I was really ready for, if I’m being honest. I was only half joking about nursing being too much for me.”
“Oh wow, yeah, I can only imagine. Sorry about that.”
I didn’t even think about how traumatic that would be…
“No, don’t be sorry. I can handle it. But that full-body grounding circuit thing, Zeke really had to cut you up for that. I really hated seeing it.”
Tears are forming in her eyes now, and she’s grabbing my hand pretty tightly. It hurts really badly, but I try not to show it on my face.
“Well, thank you so much for sticking through it with him. I guess it was probably pretty hard for him, too.”
I try to imagine the roles being reversed, Zeke being injured or needing surgery, and me having to step in and do it. Apart from the indisputable lack of medical experience, I don’t know if I could do it.
It’s one thing to fight soldiers with swords or guns or whatever, but to have your best friend’s life in your hands like that…
“Anyway, don’t worry about me. You just focus on getting better as quickly as you can, alright?” Ash says, smiling at me again, her beautiful face distorted with exhaustion and pain.
“Of course, I’ll do my best!” I smile back, gently rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb as I hold her hand.
After a few moments, she says, “I better get back to work, but I’ll come see you again in a little while.”
“See you later, you know where to find me.” I say, with a smirk that hopefully says, “Because I’m bedridden, get it?”
Ash gives me a pity smile, and then, as the joke sets in, I see her close her eyes and shake her head slightly before rushing off to continue working.
The next couple of days go by in a blur. I spend most of the time drifting in and out of sleep. My breaks from sleeping are mostly to eat and drink water, then back to sleep. Everyone comes by from time to time to check on me and see how I’m doing.
It's day three, and I finally feel okay with trying to stand. Zeke gives me an extremely cautious go-ahead. As soon as I stand up, I feel a rush of vertigo and nearly collapse, but it passes slowly as I clutch the side of the operating table for support. The same table that I’ve been using as the world’s worst bed for two days. I’m off the IV now, so it’s also only a matter of time before the pain comes back.
“Alright, buddy, just take it nice and easy,” Zeke says, standing a few paces away from me.
I take a wobbly step toward Zeke, who’s keeping a close eye on me, ready to catch me if I fall.
Come on, Oliver, you can do this. It’s just walking.
I let go of the table, straighten myself up, and take another step. Without the table to support me, I feel so heavy. It takes a significant amount of effort not to fall over, but I manage to stay upright.
How are you going to take down CYBR Corp if you can’t even walk?
I straighten up again, this time a fire burning in my gut. I take a step toward Zeke once again. Then another. And another. With each step, my resolve gets stronger, and walking gets easier. By the time I reach Zeke, I feel like I’m walking pretty normally, and I give him a triumphant smile.
“Hey, there we go!” He says, putting his arm around me for support.
“Thanks, man, I was so tired of lying on that damn operating table,” I say with a laugh of relief, allowing myself to relax as he helps me to a nearby folding chair they found while going through some more stuff.
“I can imagine.”
“So, Zeke, how quickly do you think I can be at one hundred percent?” I ask, nervous about the answer I might get.
Zeke takes a long time to respond, taking a big inhale and letting out a long sigh, all while staring into the middle distance.
“Uhh, that bad huh? Give it to me straight, doc.” I joke, trying to get him to say something.
“No, no. I was just trying to decide which answer would help you more. You’re clearly not going to take the full time, so I was trying to decide if I should extend my actual estimate to get your eager ass to do some physical therapy.”
“Hey, give me a break here!” I exclaim incredulously. “When have I ignored your medical advice?” I pause, realizing how stupid that sounds. “Lately?”
“I’m not gonna justify that with a response.”
I feel slightly offended, but more because I know he’s right than anything else.
“Okay, fair enough. But just give me an estimate, please? Obviously, I’m dying to take the fight to CYBR Corp, but I swear I’ll do physical therapy, I’ll ease into training, and all that. Plus, I still need to learn how to use that thing!” I gesture to the exosuit, which looks incredibly enticing from here.
“Fine. But if you start doing pushups when I’m not looking, don’t come crying to me when you sprain something.” He responds, laughing at the truth of his own words. “But if you must know, I’d say you’ve got at least two more days until I’m comfortable with you out there sword-fighting some fucking Shinigami or whatever.”
I was honestly thinking he would say a week or something, so I feel alright with two days. It would be pretty pathetic if, after all this, I stumbled up to CYBR Corp HQ and collapsed because I was too stubborn to listen to my best friend and cyber surgeon’s advice.
“Yeah, that seems fair. Two days it is.” I say, trying to sound upbeat. I’m exhausted.
“Well, I expected more resistance, so thank you, Ol’. You know it’s because I care about you, man.” Zeke gives my shoulder a light squeeze.
“Yeah, thank you. You’ve already done so much for me. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” He says with a smile as he walks over to the operating table.
He presses some things on the tablet there, and the table dispenses a small metallic tube with a cheerful ‘ding!’. Zeke opens the tube and takes out a small plastic pill bottle.
“Take two of these every four hours unless you want your skin to feel like it’s on fire.”
He tosses the bottle of pills to me. I go to catch it with my left hand, but instead, I end up flailing both my hands around, swatting the little plastic bottle back and forth several times before finally getting a grip on it with my right hand.
“Nice one. Are you sure you didn’t miss your calling as an outfielder?” Zeke quips, laughing at my misery.
“Shut up, smartass.” I can’t help but crack a smile in spite of myself.
“So anyway, two of those every four hours, got it?” Zeke double-checks.
“Yep, two of these every four hours. Got it.” I pause, lost in thought for a moment. “But what about the nanobot healing system you installed? Doesn’t that affect recovery time?”
