Monday 16 April 2012

Breathe

I awoke at the sensation of my eyelids burning. Blinding lights caused my eyes to struggle open – a sensation like my eyeballs were being peeled made them water, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

I knew I was alive again.

Instinct made me try to bolt upright, but I found that I couldn’t move anything below my neck. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a small curtain was blocking the rest of my body from view. Against better judgment, I looked up again and the bright lights blew holes in my vision. Then –

Donnell!

My chest burned as a ragged breath ripped through my throat and into my lungs. I struggled to cough, but lacked both the strength and freedom of movement.

I struggled to take another breath. I felt a cool sensation on the side of my face, and then on the other, gently guiding my head back down on the table I was laying on.

“It’s ok, now, Jackie, don’t move,” a rough, familiar voice sounded above my head. I tried to find the speaker, but was only blinded once again by the lights. “You’re not supposed to be awake, girl – you’re only half assembled.”

I smiled, even though my breathing was far from normal. Only one man called me Jackie. “Dr. Gale,” I croaked, but was overcome with the urge to cough again.

“Don’t talk, now,” Gale murmured, removing his hands from the sides of my face and moving around so that I could see him. “Your lungs just formed; you’re lucky you didn’t wake sooner.” He smiled, and lines creased his leathery face. Thick white hair framed his face – it had once been cut military short, perhaps a couple of months ago; now it matched his equally thick, white eyebrows, which hung above deep set blue eyes and a large nose.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again, Jackie,” he sighed. He didn’t speak again for some time, until - “I hope you know what you’re doing with Stevens. I know you don’t have a choice, but…” He didn’t finish, but disappeared behind the curtain that separated my vision from the rest of my body.

“How,” I started, gagged, and then tried again. “How are you?” I hadn’t seen Gale in fifteen years, apparently. Donnell had worked under Dr. Keenan Gale early in his career, and when Donnell began working on the CYG project, Gale followed to work on Donnell’s team. I had known Gale for as long as I had known Donnell.

“That’s sweet of you to ask,” Gale returned to view. “But I told you to shut up. You’ll make the things skip a beat or something, like back when we were ripping our own holovids. Do it too fast or jostle the writer – no movie.”

I smiled at Gale’s reference to the nano-bots as “the things”, a strange habit for a man who had helped create the creatures as they were today.

It seemed like hours before Gale spoke again. By this time I could feel my chest, arms and abdomen – Gale had given me permission to move my arms and hands.

“I hate to do this to you, now” Gale sighed, appearing at my side again, “I’ve got to ask you some questions.”

It was my turn to sigh. How many reintegrations had I gone through? As many times as the last breath hissed past my lips; as many times as the light never lit my way beyond; but more times than I thought: this death is my last…

“I won’t start until you’re ready,” Gale insisted, but behind his words we both knew I was going nowhere until the questions were answered. The real question was, did I care?

What if Donnell is really alive?

“Do what you gotta do,” I muttered, closing my eyes. I heard Gale shift beside me. “Wait… Can I smoke?”

It was a dumb question, and I heard Gale chuckle. “The official answer? Hell no.” I could almost see him smirk. “But, I am the only other person in here, and I’ve had iron lungs for about nine years now. Won’t be hurting anybody.”

“Cancer?”

“Emphysema. Sometimes I still cough out of habit. Funny thing though – I got pelted with one of those disposable vid-comms on my walk to work the other day. Got called a cyg-lover. At first I thought it was my lungs, but how would anyone know about that? Stupid and naïve of me, I think. I’ve been in this business my whole life – did I think I’d be a hero?”

“That’s rough,” I muttered. “Not strange though. Why bring it up?”

I heard Gale sigh again. He had lit a cigarette and handed it to me. I knew better than to ask him where he got it.

“Because the guy wasn’t alone. A couple of others actually called me a cyg. It’s getting more dangerous to work here - to be augmented –

I took a drag of my cigarette and immediately started coughing. Maybe this time I could be a non-smoker? I felt the grip of anxiety firmly on my throat at the thought.

When I stabilized, Gale continued. “Most personnel have been moved away from headquarters. It’s shutting down at the end of the year. We thought we would ride this storm out. Donnell was dead and you were incapacitated indefinitely – but attacks persisted. We shut down our entire military division for nine years and the attacks died off; things are starting to pick up again. If word got out about the two of you…”

“Donnell is really alive?” Part of me still didn’t believe it. The hand around my throat tightened. Whatever Steven’s needed me for, I wouldn’t put it past him lying to get it.

Gale didn’t answer, so I changed the subject. His silence was answer enough for me.

“People don’t like the augmented. Why should they? The un-augmented hold no survival advantage. Cygs are dangerous.”

“They are still human,” Gale insisted.

I shrugged as best I could, exhaling a gust of tobacco smoke through my nose. “I guess the jury’s still out on that one. You gonna ask me those questions?”

I closed my eyes and heard Gale shift again. Maybe he had been hoping this conversation had disappeared.

“Ok now,” he began, his voice suddenly monotonous, “I need to establish your core memory functions - what is your full birth name?”

I didn’t hesitate because I didn’t know the answer. There was a reason no one ever said my first name – not unless he wanted a fight. Still, I grit my teeth and answered: “Minion Jack.”

“At what age did you enter the CYG program?”

“You want, like –

“Approximate age,” Gale said gruffly, hinting that we’d get through this sooner if I just played nice.

“Twelve,” I replied.

“Who was your master programmer? This is the person who is ultimately responsible for your performance during your time at Baydon Industries.”

“You.”

“You have to say my name,” Gale said without any inflection.

“Dr. Keenan Gale.”

“Who was your field programmer? This is the person who is responsible for your performance in the field and would be connected to you via nano-link, if not physically present during your missions.”

This time I didn’t hesitate at all. “Dr. Baastian Donnell,” I said, matching Gale’s now monotone voice. I was programmed to utter that name on instinct – a failsafe that had saved me from this very experience more than once.

“Alright, there are a couple more questions, but I’m satisfied there has been no memory damage.” I fought back a smirk. Gale had deviated from the script quite a bit. “Just one more I have to ask though: How many times did you get fitted with a restraining device?”

“Officially?” I asked, confused. That wasn’t an answer I really had. “Twice? But I am only aware of once, at my trial.”

Gale didn’t answer right away, but slowly nodded his head.

“What was the first time?” I asked? I always knew it was very early in my development; there always seemed to be air of despair over the incident, and no one spoke of it. I had scoured the networks for a couple of months trying to find some clue as to what happened, but nothing ever appeared. I was told the official story, which was that I had malfunctioned and needed to be restrained until I was functional again. I always felt that I had no choice but to accept that answer. Not even Donnell would tell me.

“You know what I know, Jack,” Gale murmured. “Don’t beat a dead horse, you’ll just attract more flies.”

I handed Gale the butt of my cigarette for him to dispose of, but I didn’t speak again. As sensation flooded to my brain, I could feel the nano-bots knitting the rest of my body together. It wouldn’t be long until I was tested physically, and then set upon Steven’s task.

I thought of Donnell – about what I would find. Was Donnell the same? Would he be angry? He had been so angry and afraid in the last years of his life – or what had been his life. Was he alive now? With nano-scripts executing and maintaining most of my body functions, was I really alive?

“You should get some rest,” Gale murmured. “You remember the physical regime. There will be new things to show you too.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling a weak sensation in my toes. I had almost forgotten about Steven’s end of the bargain. I had to admit that I was slightly curious as to what he had that would be so compelling to me. Compelling enough to be sent out into an unfriendly, communication-less world by myself.

To find a dead man.  

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