“The holo explained—” Asmaryl said in an annoyed tone.
“You try being exploded into not much more than a talking head, waking up in a strange hospital getting a sales pitch from three eager beavers who want to turn you into a robot and see if you don’t ask a few questions.” Cody’s patience had run out. “Doc, do we need these guys or can we finish this chat man to man and get to the nitty gritty, like what these nanobots do?”
“Of course, Sgt. Wayne.” Nessa shepherded his protesting colleagues into the hall where they stood in a tight circle, talking furiously in low voices.
Cody focused on the nurse, who was fussing with a tray of medinjects and instruments. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Either choose to die or take the deal,” she said, blunt as ever. “You’ve got no life ahead of you like this. You’ll be warehoused and forgotten and probably sedated into a permanent coma in some veterans’ ward. If the program works you’ve got a second chance.”
Startled by her frank answer, he wanted to ask more questions but Dr. Nessa returned alone and the nurse said, “Will you need me, doctor?”
“No, you can go.”
She left the room without a backward glance.
Nessa seated himself. “The nanobots are microscopic robots the Institute has designed to circulate in your bloodstream, spinal fluid, lymphatic system and cerebral fluid. They will maintain the cybernetics for the rest of your life and probably improve the health of your remaining physical components as well. You won’t know they exist.”
“Robot bugs in my brain?” Cody didn’t care for the concept. ”These bots gonna tell me what to do? Can you control me through them?”
Shaking his head, the physician was plainly annoyed, putting his hand to his forehead and closing his eyes as if in pain. “I told you, you won’t even know the nanites are there.”
Staring, Cody asked, “Did you not expect the big dumb soldier to ask any questions, doc? Did you think I’d be so grateful I’d sign on the line right away? I want to see the contract and I want 24 hours to review it and consider my options here. And I don’t want to be lectured by Asmaryl. I want him off my case.”
Of course Cody had ‘signed’ the contract eventually, after a few amendments were made. The doctors lied, there was a lot of pain and as for not even knowing the nanobots existed, another lie. They were a constant hum in his head which he learned to ignore for the most part. He mentored Subjects 2 and 3 when the severely wounded men were brought to the Institute and hoped he’d helped them the way he wished someone had supported him. The flinty nurse, whose name he never did learn, had been the only one he trusted and he only saw her those first few days of consciousness.
He’d given the program three years at the Institute before forcing a transfer to active duty. Assigned to Captain Jeff Pearson and his team, Cody had found a new family and fresh purpose. After five and a half years he was notified the entire cyborg program had been cancelled and he was left high and dry on his own but assigned to Pearson’s team.
The rumor was the Mellureans, an ancient alien race of powerful beings the Sectors kowtowed to had expressed displeasure at the line of research and demanded the efforts be halted. And that was that.
* * *
But here he was on Randal Four, fighting off a killer virus. Cody drifted into more awareness, lured by the sound of Tamsyn’s voice.
“So he’s not doing any better?”
“No, there’s been slippage,” Melly answered. “He’s usually a bit improved after your shift, for whatever reason?—”
“I read to him,” Tamsyn said.
“Maybe your voice helps him focus. I can’t hazard a guess. But we’ll see how he is at the next shift change.”
Melly patted him on the shoulder and he heard her walk away. He didn’t want to deal with her or anyone else. His mind was a mess, torn between the madness the virus was trying to impose, with its horrific but eerily alluring visions of wreaking mayhem, and his horrified self not wanting any part of what the virus promised with its siren song. And then there were the nanobots, fighting for him. Well, for all the expensive high tech stuff the Institute had plugged into him in the long ago, cancelled project.
He heard Tamsyn take a seat in the big chair beside the bed, open an old-fashioned book—he heard the pages rustle—and begin reading so he opened his eyes to see her. His eyesight was all messed up, like a holo with static and interference, waves of red crossing his field of vision but he craved the sight of her. Tamsyn brought him peace. She had since the first moment he stepped outside the APC on the deserted highway and saw her standing there with her backpack and her blaster up against their megacannon, defiant and intent on getting home.
Since he’d been converted to being a cyborg, his mind had been hyperactive, flitting from one thing to the next to another unless he concentrated hard on distracting himself. He could run his fleet of drones, conduct a conversation, fight a battle all at the same time and still need one of his many fidget toys. The tactile feedback kept him calm and helped him focus. He could be wildly impulsive at times too although his respect for Jeff as his commander helped to rein in those tendencies a bit.
The big brains at the Institute hadn’t expected these side effects and had been dismayed. Cody thought privately he’d had a lot of these issues before getting blown up and remade as a cyborg but the nanobots amplified the tendencies. The doctors wanted him to take meds for it but he refused, concerned he wouldn’t be fully functional in combat. He used the fidget toys and other self-control techniques that didn’t rely on drugs.
Tamsyn calmed all of the chaos in his brain, even now when the pressure of the virus added to the load. When the two of them had been cooking together in the big kitchen he’d felt completely at peace for the first time in…ever. His biggest regret about dying of the damn Western Flu was never getting the chance to see what the possibilities might be with this woman who appealed to him so much.
The doctors had assured him, and he’d assured himself later, he was fully functional as a man. He’d had enough meaningless encounters with the women who hung around at the bars near Special Forces bases to know those skills and abilities were intact. But he wanted so much more with Tamsyn, things he’d never even dreamt of reaching for in his hard life.
And now he guessed they’d never know. “Sorry,” he managed to say, slurring the ‘s’. The virus was virulent about attacking his speech center. Now he understood why the infected couldn’t do anything but moan and growl.
She stopped reading and came to the bedside, resting one hand on his shoulder. “You don’t owe me an apology for anything, Cody Wayne. I think what you did saving the captain’s life was brave and selfless and I admire you for it.”
He stared into her eyes and briefly his mind was clear, free of the intrusive thoughts and raging impulses to kill and devour. He was just Cody.
