Dimitri and Petrov hefted the dresser, and Mattie followed them with the two lamps.
There was barely any room left to move around after they positioned the large piece of furniture against the wall, and the three of them sat on the edge of the bed.
Mattie set the phone on the filing cabinet. "Do we even try? I'm sure all calls are monitored. I'm not even sure we should keep it around. They might be listening to us through the device even when it's closed."
Dimitri chuckled. "We are not that important. What are we going to do, start an uprising?"
"True," Petrov said, reaching for the phone. "It's just that it has been so long since I had one of those. It feels like holding on to a piece of lost civilization."
"I wouldn't worry about the surveillance downstairs." Dimitri tapped his fingers against his knees. "I'm sure Dave will take care of it in his special way. I just wonder about the Eight'smotives. They don't experience emotions the way we do. Not anymore. Perhaps they still remember what it felt like when they were individuals, before they merged their consciousness, and because they miss having feelings, they are trying to recreate them by forming a friendship with us."
"Maybe he's just lonely." Mattie turned to Dimitri. "You said that he can't get stimulation from his other selves because they're all the same person, and it seems that the only real interaction he gets is with us."
"The Eight spend a lot of time with Losham, but I doubt Losham treats Dave as a person. To him, they are just a tool to be used."
"And vice versa," Petrov said. "Dave is more powerful than Losham, but they don't have the knowledge and smarts that Losham has. They need to cooperate to rule this island in Lord Navuh's absence."
"Right." Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. "We are the closest Dave has to friends." He turned to Mattie. "He cares about you enough to give you a phone so you can call him when you need help. Do you know what that means?"
"It means we have an ally," she said with a smile. "A powerful ally. One who's willing to kill to protect us."
"It means more than that." Petrov leaned back, propping himself on his forearms. "It means Dave is changing again. Evolving in unexpected ways." He shook his head. "Whether that's good or bad, it's hard to say. But it is certainly interesting to watch."
20
TONY
Friday morning arrived with a sense of hope that Tony hadn't felt in a long time. He was conscious, the fever was gone, and even the aches and pains had subsided.
He was ready for his new beginning, but first he needed to be rid of all the wires, sensors, and tubes that he was still connected to.
"Let's do it," Julian told Hildegard. "It will go faster if we do it together."
The sticky pads were the first to go, then the IV came out next, leaving a small mark on the back of Tony's hand that faded almost immediately—a preview of the healing abilities he was about to officially confirm in the ceremony that was scheduled for ten.
Once everything was out, Julian helped him out of bed and held on to his elbow to make sure he could stand before leading him to the bathroom.
"Do you want Hildegard to help you in there?" Julian asked.
"I'm good." Tony braced his hand on the doorframe. "I'm going to go slow."
"Good. Take your time," Julian said. "If you need help, there is a call button next to the toilet and another one in the shower."
"Thanks, doc."
He got in, closed the door behind him, and proceeded to the toilet like it was the promised land. Peeing on his own for the first time in days was a small victory that felt monumentally significant. He brushed his teeth with an almost religious fervor, scrubbing away the disgusting film that had accumulated during his unconscious state. He shaved carefully, watching his reflection in the mirror as he dragged the disposable razor across his jaw.
The face looking back at him was familiar but different. Thinner. Much thinner than he'd been before the transition, his cheekbones more prominent, the hollows beneath them more pronounced. He looked like he'd been sick for weeks.
Julian had explained that the body cannibalized itself during the initial stage of transition, breaking down fat stores and even muscle tissue to fuel the massive energy demands of rewriting the genetic code. Every cell in his body was being transformed, restructured at the molecular level, and that kind of change required resources.
"You'll fill out quickly," Julian had assured him. "Just eat enough, and your body will rebuild itself stronger than before. But not yet. Liquid diet until at least the end of the day. Your digestive system needs time to adjust."
Liquid diet. Tony grimaced at his reflection. After the broth and Jell-O as his meals since waking up, he was fantasizing about real food.
Steak. That was what he wanted. A thick, juicy ribeye, grilled to medium-rare perfection, the fat sizzling and the meat tender enough to cut with a fork. Maybe two steaks. Maybe three. If Shira wanted to make a salad to go with them, she was welcome to do so, but as far as Tony was concerned, steak was its own complete meal. Steak accompanied by more steak.
His stomach growled at the thought, loud enough to echo off the bathroom tiles.
