Nell followed Doc down the winding corridor. Her fingers tightened around the crystal in her hand. The angles of it dug into her flesh before she relaxed her grip. She'd been so sure she'd find answers in the sarcophagus?
But it had been dismantled and the bigger pieces had been scattered across the deck of the cargo bay. The smaller floated in small clouds nearby. When she tried to look for anything regarding her true mission, the crew men and women with the atomic symbol on their blue uniform had blocked her access. Nell rubbed the chill from her arms. Judging from their hostility, she'd been lucky not to be dissected next to her sarcophagus. They'd only given her the obelisk-shaped crystal because Doc had insisted.
As if hearing her thoughts, Doc turned his head to look at her. "I am sorry you did not find any mementos."
Sadness cut through her as she balanced the three inch obelisk on her shaky fingertips. Nell peered into the clear crystal. Prisms danced around the white hallway but no answers beckoned from the depths. She sighed through her mounting frustration. Playing with the stupid thing wouldn't help save the Syn-En or solve her personal riddle. She needed answers. "Abracadabra. Alakazam. Show me my parents, family and friends. Something."
Nothing.
"I find it quite odd that the data chip is blank." Doc stopped at the end of the hall and pressed the up arrow, one of two buttons embedded in the wall.
"It's just a crystal." Nell curled her fingers around it as they waited for the elevator.
Doc slanted her a look, confusion glowed in his black eyes. "Its lattice structure makes it capable of holding trillions of terabytes worth of data. Of course, had it contained anything, the scientists might have held onto it."
No doubt gloating as they kept it. Instead, all they could do was glower at her as they handed it over. Nell tucked the miniature obelisk into her pants pocket and patted it to make sure it stayed. "Did something happen while I slept? The second time, not the long sleep that brought me here."
Doc riveted his attention to the wall in front of them. "We are about to be joined by more Syn-En."
"You don't like your relatives?" If they had relatives like Aunt Ola who smelled of rotten eggs and made nasty comments about everything and everyone in her midst, she could understand but Nell doubted that was the reason. The Syn-En were a tight bunch, a clan who depended on each other for survival and more. Obviously more than her telomeres had changed while she'd been out. The atmosphere had become grim and the attention she'd received had shimmered with violence.
"The circumstances leave much to be desired." Doc shrugged.
Before Nell could ask for further explanation, the elevator doors opened.
Chatting in low tones, two crewmen in dark blue uniforms exited the square lift, smiling at Doctor Cabo. Their grins and easy banter wilted when they spied her. Mouths set in straight lines, the duo pushed into the hall. The one closest to her knocked her shoulder as he passed.
"Son of a?" Pain radiated from her socket across Nell's chest. The impact of the man's metal torso and arm spun her about until she slammed into the wall. Her head bounced off the panels, blazing fire down her neck and spine. Nell blinked back her tears and fought for a breath. The butthead had done it on purpose. "Ow!"
"Watch where you're going, citizen," the hulking soldier growled.
Nell bit back her rebuttal. When armored bodies met flesh and bone, armor won. She'd do well to stay out of their way or buy some metal repellant.
"Do that again, Denver, and I'll have your implants." Doc Cabo shepherded her into the elevator and stabbed the up button with his index finger.
"Skin addict," Denver shot back.
Cradling her tingling arm, Nell leaned against the elevator wall. The cool metal surface dulled the pain. "I take it that was related to those circumstances you mentioned?"
Doc flashed his palm at her. The green beam scanned down her body as he crowded her into the corner. "We just received word that Earth has issued death warrants for all Syn-En. Some are upset."
"Death warrants? But why? And why are they blaming me?" She came here to help, dang it. She really needed a little guidance here. Maybe then she'd be accepted.
Doc set his hand on her shoulder and Nell flinched. Bile burned her throat when he straightened her arm and moved the joint back and forth in its socket.
"Nothing broken, just bruised." Doc tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered a second too long and Nell eased back. Doc allowed his hands to drop to his side. "The admiral will terminate Denver for his treatment of you."
Hissing through the pain, Nell gingerly probed the throbbing area. "You're kidding, right?"
Doc's narrow eyes betrayed his annoyance. "Would you like me to scan again?"
Nell shook her head. Obviously, there was more to the story than signing the Syn-En's death warrant for the Doc to get offended so easily. "Not about your diagnosis. I meant you don't think Beijing would really kill that guy for running into me, do you?"
Doc's features relaxed. "I know he would."
"Then I guess it's a good thing I can hardly feel it." Despite what the Syn-En might think, Nell refused to have any blood on her hands. Straightening her arm, she closed her eyes against the static filling her head.
"I could give you something for the pain." Doubt colored the deep timber of his voice.
"I think I've had enough meds to last a lifetime." Staring at him, Nell shook her head and adjusted her weight when the elevator lurched to a stop. She hoped they reached the medical bay soon. If they encountered any more irate crewmen prone to accidentally bumping into her, the bruises would have her looking like a Holstein cow.
The elevator doors opened onto an enormous lobby. The wounded and injured sat or lay in neat rows on the floor. The pungent scent of disinfectant, burnt skin and blood caused her stomach to buck.
Nell wrinkled her nose. Hospitals smelled the same even in space.
"If you change your mind, just let me know." Doc set his hand on the small of her back and ushered Nell into the room.
"Before I begin my candy striper duties, do you think I could search your computers for information on my family?" She surveyed the large room. Her gaze faltered on a kneeling man to her right.
Sharp pointy instruments replaced the top half of his fingers. The skin-like armor of his legs had splayed open like butterfly wings, leaving metal tubular bones and spaghetti wiring exposed.
Doc followed her line of sight, then washed the prostrate man with a green beam before turning his attention to Nell. "I doubt the CIC will be much help. We have no record of anything before 2025."
Nell blinked. Her attention bounced behind Doc. Light glinted off the scalpel projecting from the medical man's index finger before it danced in and out of the creases and openings in his patient's body. Surprise and revulsion trickled through her. It took a moment to register that no blood sprayed their navy uniforms. "Are they operating on the floor?"
Doc cupped her elbow in his warm grasp and dragged her away from the sight. "Because many Syn-En upgrades don't require biologic support to function, we don't need to worry about inflaming the immune system."
As if to punctuate his point, a slim woman gripped the thigh of the person lying in front of her and twisted. The leg snapped off with a sucking noise that reminded Nell of breaking the vacuum seal on a jar of pickles.
The amputee laughed at something the woman said and sat up.
Nell looked away from the legless woman. "What about privacy?"
Doc's brown eyes narrowed for a moment. "That is not something Syn-Ens are accustomed to."
Wrapping her arms around her waist, Nell glanced to her left. Rows of people sat motionless on the floor. Their odd stillness chilled her. Were they waiting for their turn to be operated on or was something else wrong with them? "Is that recovery?"
"No, their armor locked them in place to prevent further damage to their systems." Doc Cabo guided her along a clear corridor between the clumps of people on the floor. "We'll get to them
eventually."
In front of the statue-like Syn-Ens, an ebony skinned man sat cross-legged next to a pile of limbs. He opened the compartments of each, stuck his fingers inside then either tossed the appendage to his right or left.
While the pile on his right remained undisturbed, a woman quickly gathered the ones on the left, attached them to a hook and hung them on a circular clothes rack. Amputees hobbled over to the racks, skimmed the dangling legs and arms, before removing one and measuring it against their intact limb. If the selection fit, they snapped it in place and left. If not, they spun the rack and continued their search.
Nell shuddered. They searched the severed parts like she once shopped for clothes. The thought both repulsed and fascinated her.
"Cabo." A woman strode toward Nell and the doctor at her side. Crimson stained the newcomer's hands and flecked the white apron draped down the front of her body. While she talked to Doc, her green eyes locked onto Nell. "Orleans has a bleeder in room four and could use your expertise. The civie's legs were crushed under a bulkhead. He won't consent to amputation; rather risk his life than endure another tech penalty."
Dragging Nell by the arm, Doc rushed down a corridor that followed a curving wall. "Such things don't matter anymore."
"Tell that to the civie," the other woman answered.
Nell's boot heels clicked against the metal floor as she hurried to keep up. Lungs heaving, she jerked free of Doc's grip and leaned against the wall to catch her breath.
"I will." Without a backward glance, Doc strode away. The woman quickly followed.
Nell gingerly probed her sore shoulder and muttered under her breath. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
Guilt lashed her as soon as she spoke the words. Someone's life hung in the balance and she sounded like a petulant three-year-old. She came here to help and she would. Nell glanced at the closed doors lining the white hallway. "Eeney, meeny, miney, moe."
After glancing left then right, Nell crept to the fourth door. It opened when she neared, giving her a view of the cramped interior. Cloth-draped gurneys filled the rectangular shaped room. Nell shuddered at the human shaped silhouettes underneath. Other shrouded bodies stuffed four chef's racks shoved against the far wall. Good Lord, it was a morgue. Just as she stepped back toward the hall, a clear football helmet-shaped form on the other side of the room caught her eye.
The sight stirred one of her new memories and data rushed in, for once unaccompanied by the voice of her mother/conscience.
"An imaging machine." Shaking off her revulsion, Nell tiptoed into the room. The doors whisked shut behind her, cloaking the voices from the other rooms. Ears straining, she struggled to hear something, anything besides her breath rattling around inside her head.
From the corner of her eye, Nell detected movement. She focused on the body lying on the gurney near her right hip. Did that sheet just rise and fall? Sweat moistened her palms and her heart picked up tempo. Could they have shoved a person in a morgue that wasn't quite dead? On instinct, she reached for the body.
Every zombie movie she'd ever watched replayed at hyper speed through Nell's head. She curled her fingers against her palm and folded her arms over her chest as icy fear trickled down her spine. She stopped herself from turning around and running out of the room. "Zombies don't exist."
Her words trembled in the room.
A network of pin lights embedded in the ceiling buzzed, flickered then sizzled out. Nell's tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. While the remaining bank of illumination spotlighted the helmet form of the imager, her feet seemed welded to the floor.
Was that a sign to leave or stay?
Gritting her teeth, Nell cast a look over her shoulder at the door then at the imager. Half way there. She slid her right foot forward. The imager was the best chance at finding those space parasites or whatever lived inside her head.
A low groan rumbled through the stillness.
Gaze bouncing wildly, Nell jumped and spun about, looking for the source. Her hip bumped into a gurney and something grazed her thigh.
She gargled a scream, backpedaled and batted at whatever touched her. Holding her breath, she glanced down.
A small, feminine hand dangled next to the gurney. Deep gouges scored the slim wrist and forearm, exposing the empty compartments and the metal rods that provided strength and support.
Swallowing the lump of terror lodged in her throat, Nell reached for the arm. A person with DTs would have shaken less. Steeling her resolve, Nell pinched the wrist and tossed it back onto the gurney. Her brain registered the warm, pliant skin seconds before the arm crashed to a stop next to the body.
Nell winced at the loud noise. "Sorry."
"It's okay," a soft voice whispered back.
Stumbling backward, Nell tripped over her feet. Corpses don't talk. Corpses can't talk. She landed on her rump with a teeth-rattling thud, her mantra playing inside her skull. Only a corpse who isn't a corpse could talk. The twisted logic made perfect sense to her hysteria. Nell shoved her fingers in her mouth to suffocate the building scream and latched onto the glimmer of hope.
Not a corpse?
Spittle dripped down her chin before Nell removed her fingers and dried her skin on the sleeve of her green uniform. No brain scan was worth facing the talking undead.
"Have you damaged yourself?" the soft voice asked.
Quietly, Nell rolled onto her hands and knees. This had to be a dream. Nothing but a dream. Heck, maybe she hallucinated the whole spaceship-Syn-En thing. Maybe not getting the job had caused her to flip out and even now her body was safely stored inside a padded cell while her mind was locked inside her head. Something sharp pulled her scalp.
"There you are." The feminine voice filled with satisfaction.
Rearing back, Nell reached for whatever had caught her hair. Her hands closed around warm fingers and tugged. "Let me go."
Nell nearly landed face first on the floor as her captor complied. The movement jarred the crystal from her pocket. The clear obelisk clattered to the floor before rolling to a stop against the gurney's black wheels.
"If you are injured, you must seek assistance elsewhere."
The soothing tones finally penetrated Nell's panic. The woman wasn't dead or undead. She was alive, which meant Nell hadn't lost her mind. Nell sighed as her fear ebbed. Straightening her uniform shirt, she rose to her knees, glanced around then picked up the crystal. At least not too many people had witnessed her stupidity. "I'm not hurt, just scared. Bodies don't usually talk once they're covered with sheets."
"My apologies for frightening you."
Gripping the gurney with both hands, Nell pulled herself to her feet. Her knees wobbled but held her upright. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pinched the edge of the sheet and ripped it back.
A woman stared back at Nell. The flesh had split revealing a large silver stripe bisecting her forehead, the bridge of her nose and her cheek. Blood crusted the lids around her brown eyes like rust colored eye liner. Her narrow waist and hips were almost completely crushed on the right side and her shins and thighs deflated under the weight of the covers.
Notice how the flesh-like armor has not self-repaired? Her mother/conscience interrupted with all the emotion of a proctologist at an asshole convention. She has terminal failures.
Nell's breath caught in her throat. The girl couldn't be more than sixteen, no older than Nell's niece the last time she'd seen her. And much too young to die. Needing to touch, but afraid she'd hurt the girl, Nell settled for smoothing what remained of her long brown locks away from her damaged face.
"I'll get you help." Where was all the blood? Nell left the question unspoken and forced herself to meet the girl's eyes.
"Don't." The girl blinked. Her right eyelid flopped against her cheek like a loose false eyelash. "I-I-I will d-d-die soon."
Her calm acceptance shocked Nell. If the girl wouldn't fight for her life, Nell would. She glanced around the room, searching for a mean
s to help. Anything. "Where's the call button?"
"My death means others will live." The girl laid her hand on Nell's. "A Syn-En could ask for no greater honor."
Arguments knotted Nell's tongue. The girl couldn't be a soldier. She was a child. Why were children still dying? Hadn't anything changed in the last hundred years? Nell bit the inside of her cheek to keep from venting her rage. "What's your name?"
"Richmond." The girl's smile was ruined not so much by her missing teeth but by the fact that her lips lay against her chin. "I am s-s-sorry I will not see Terra Dos, Nell Stafford."
Richmond knew her name. But how? The answer came to Nell as a whisper. Or more likely, her mother/conscience again. The WA. Yet if that were the case, wouldn't the girl know about the Syn-En death sentence? Then again, it might not matter to someone who was dying. Nell clasped the girl's warm hand in hers. "Can't you be fixed?"
"I am but one."
"You're a child."
"I am Syn-En," Richmond countered, her eyes darkened as she regarded Nell. "It is my honor to serve."
Nell gritted her teeth. She hated the way they said that, as if those three words justified everything. Why didn't they fight? How could they accept dying so easily?
"Why are you here, Nell Stafford?" The right side of Richmond's face went slack and her words slurred. "In this room, not on the ship."
"I need my head examined." Nell glanced over her shoulder at the imager. She needed to find the source of her mother/conscience that was even now filling her thoughts with ways to fix Richmond.
"Perhaps the crystal will help?" Richmond gently squeezed Nell's hand holding the obelisk, offering the comfort she should be receiving. "The data chip should fit in the auxiliary slot by the imaging system."
"Thanks. Would you like me to keep you company until??" Nell choked on the word die. Sure, Richmond looked a little mashed and mangled, but she was alert and aware. Didn't that mean anything?
Syn-Ens are prohibited from opening the biologic core. Only certified citizen doctors are allowed as other repairs are a more efficient use of medical personnel's time.
Sounded like a load of hooey to Nell. The Syn-En seemed capable of doing anything they put their mind to. Could the citizens be hiding something or was the space parasite in her head making her paranoid?
"I am content visiting with the others until my cerebral interface fires the last time." The right side of Richmond's face relaxed into a wistful expression. "My comrades are giving me a lifetime of memories. Some of them have lived nearly forty years!"
"That long, huh?" Tears burned Nell's eyes and pricked her nose. What would Richmond say if she learned Nell was four times older? She'd? Nell blinked and glanced at the other shrouded figures. "You mean they're still alive?"
"It will be twenty three hours and sixteen minutes before I have a fatal error. Many of the others have nearly two days to wait for a chariot ride." Richmond frowned. "I had not completed my upgrades or perhaps I might not have been crushed when that bulkhead fell on me."
"Chariot ride?" Lyrics of an old gospel song played in Nell's head accompanied by the longing in Richmond's voice. So the girl did not want to die, yet no one would help her live. Could Nell do it? Her mother/conscious remained mute.
"It sounds more pleasant than terminal error. And dying is reserved for citizens and civilians, those who have a chance at another life."
Anger roiled through Nell at the innocent words. The Syn-En had been denied the comfort of a belief in something more. What kind of monsters had humans become? "Perhaps, I should leave you in peace."
"No. Please." Richmond's grip tightened. "It is enough that our WA range has been limited to this room and each other. Normally, the terminal remain with the others so we might feel a part of the fleet until the end."
"I'll stay."
"Do you wish me to do the imaging process so that you might examine your head?"
Nell eyed the helmet, mentally identifying the chin strap, the relay arm, the nodal interface, the 254 source lamp and other technical things that had taken up residence in her head. It was time her mother/conscience earned her keep. "No, I don't think so."
"Good." Richmond lifted her head from the gurney and her scalp slipped onto the metal surface. "Because I am not very proficient at it." Richmond's lips rolled farther down her chin before she settled back down. "Will you cover me, please? I do not have complete control of my eyes and I find the vision of this room prevents me from staying in the WA for long and I so wish to experience a Martian dust storm."
"Sure." Nell waited until Richmond stopped fidgeting, then draped the sheet over her. A second passed, then another. The girl's chest remained still. Could her timing be off, was she already dead?
Blocking the images of the nearly-dead from her mind, Nell forced her hands to her side and strode purposefully toward the helmet. Ignoring the ick factor, she pushed the occupied gurneys away from the imager and stared at the computer embedded in the wall on her left.
No objects should be on your person for the imaging.
But I'm not imaging my whole body just my head. Nell countered but stared at the crystal in her hand. Light winked off the warm obelisk. She stood entranced for a moment, then looked around for a place to set it. The gurneys offered the most logical place but she couldn't bear to set it near the nearly-dead.
Insert it into the computer, her mother/conscience reminded her. It only fits in one.
Nell waited a heartbeat. What harm could come from sliding the crystal into the computer? After all, it contained no data. Stepping forward, she ran her fingers down the front panel beneath the monitor, searching the hexagonal, rectangular, and round ports until she located a row of square ones. Selecting the one of the closest size, she lined the obelisk up. It slid easily into the slot.
Initializing.
What? The clear crystal glowed white for a moment before filling with shadows and the hair on Nell's arms rose. That couldn't be good. Maybe it wasn't wise to follow her mother/conscience's advice to discover the source of the information.
You must initialize the imager before strapping yourself in.
Oh. Nell's stomach danced in her belly, but she lowered the keyboard from its cubby sandwiched between the ports and the monitor and hit enter. The screen flickered to life, showing the subroutines being brought online. Satisfied, Nell labeled a new file with her name then stepped back. Using both hands, she pulled the helmet shape down onto her head and secured the chin strap. Claustrophobia chewed on her control while her breath echoed loudly back to her. The radial arms, used for imaging larger objects, circled her waist.
Adjusting for compatibility.
Compatibility? You mean I'm not supposed to use the imager? Nell trembled and tried to undo the helmet. Instead, she watched her hand drift over the keyboard, select cranial scan and hit enter. "What the hell?"
Beginning download.
"No. Wait." Nell railed, but her body refused to obey. Oh God, she really did have a space parasite controlling her through her brain.
The word 'scan' filled the monitor along with a status bar. A slight hum resonated around her head and the cushions in the helmet inflated, holding her head secure. Pain burned along her scalp. The imager's arms cinched around her waist, holding her upright and steady. She grabbed hold of the helmet, clinging to it as her legs flailed underneath her.
Shit! She must have done something wrong. Her body bucked and swayed but her head didn't move in the helmet. Time slowed to a crawl. The status bar remained stopped on twenty percent. Spit splashed her cheeks and she bit her tongue. Blood foamed past her lips and bubbled in the air in front of her.
A black curtain descended on her consciousness. Her body relaxed. The arms of the imager dug into the soft tissue under her ribs. Just as she was about to pass out, the pain ended. Her legs felt like hundred pound weights as she shored them up beneath her. Muscles trembling, Nell wiped a hand across her mouth and swallowed the coppery blood. "What the hell just hap
pened?"
Download complete.
Download? Why had she trusted her mother/conscience? Clawing at the strap under her jaw, Nell managed to wrench it open. She wrestled free of the helmet just as the imager's arm sprang open and dropped to her knees on the cold floor. Crawling, she reached the computer terminal and pulled herself up on the folding seat.
The screen asked for a password prompt.
"Password. I don't know no stinking password. What the hell did you do to me?" Nell slapped the keyboard in anger. The screen blanked blue for a moment then a site map appeared. Movies, television, books, music. Nell scrolled down the folders until she found the file with her name.
After she clicked on the folder, the image of her brain popped up, rotating in three dimensions on the monitor. A white aura surrounded the base of her skull.
She searched for the key to interpret the color and found it on the bottom right corner next to the image. "High brain activity. Yeah, well when something's microwaving your brain you'd have high activity as well."
Gritting her teeth, Nell looked at the scrolling results. Would she have to do it again?
You can isolate the activity from the scan.
I can? With the instructions flooding her head, Nell's fingers flew over the keyboard before she even thought of the command. Her newfound instincts were right handy, even if they smelled like day-old fish.
The filtered results flashed on the screen. Red highlighted the anomalies. The one marked skull thickness caught her attention. Clicking on the word, she opened a detailed profile of the results. Her skull was almost fifty percent thicker at the base than normal. Could that have caused her seizure and why wouldn't Doc have said something?
The base. Nell brought up the excited areas. They overlapped the thick area perfectly, too perfectly. She tightened the view on the base and noticed a bony protrusion as thick as a hair leading straight into the center of her brain. What was that doing there?
Download complete.
Had she actually heard the words or were they merely thoughts? Bones were made up of calcium and phosphorus and they had a honeycomb-like structure that according to Doc could hold data, like the crystal. Apparently undetectable data. The computer identified the area of brain where the bony protrusion ended.
The amygdalae. The portion in the brain that is in charge of instinct and hard wired memory. Could her newfound instinct be a computer program designed to control her? Tingles erupted at the base of Nell's skull and a black vortex opened inside her head, sucking up her thoughts. She'd been right. She'd?
Awareness issue. Prepare for memory erasure and reboot.
As if viewing a play, Nell watched her hand reach out and delete the image of her brain. She had a momentary sense of falling right before darkness sucked her in.
While enhancements endow a Syn-En with superhuman strength,
it is the knowledge uploaded into their cerebral interface that enables them to complete a mission successfully.
Syn-En Vade Mecum
Chapter Twelve