by Olson, Ry
“I don’t know, is Maria going to help?” Martin actually started to ‘feel’ better about his situation.
“Oh give it a rest flyboy.” Maria’s laughter tinkled in his ears. “I’m here for the duration.”
Martin ‘felt’ himself smile. “Let’s do it, Doc.”
“Tell me when you see light.”
“Ok, Doc.” But all Martin could ‘see’ was a mental picture of a sexpot blond wearing nothing but a big grin and a barrel, a very short barrel.
3: A Shiny New Brain Bucket
"Yeow Doc, easy there. I think you just turned my liver inside out." Martin hissed.
"Sorry. How are your visual calibrations coming?"
"Better, but it feels like my left eye just isn't quite synchronized with my right. I still get a momentary double image with sudden eye movements."
"Hmmmm, we'll work on it." Swain muttered absently.
"As I was saying Maria, I'm getting used to it.” Martin continued his conversation with her. “Like right now, it's kind'a like being on an audio phone while I'm getting a physical and an eye test at the same time. It's just so different. I guess you know what I mean."
"Oh don't worry about it Martin, it's only been a few days. Give it some time." Her laugh still made it all feel better. "Hey I have to go on duty, I'll call later. That ok?"
"Oh sure, just leave me here with Dr. Frankenstein,” Martin groused.
“Hey now, I resemble that remark,” Swain laughed.
“Damn party lines.” Martin grumped. “We’ll see ya later, or whatever.”
Maria’s tittering laughter faded into silence.
“Doc are we really getting anywhere?” Martin asked tiredly. “I’m so damned bored I could shit, and this routine you call sleep just ain’t cuttin’ it. I’d say I had a headache but I seem to be missing a crucial part.”
Swain sighed. “I know it’s been rough, I’d love to say I know how you feel, but we both know I haven’t got a clue what you’re really going through. All I can tell you is your doing better than most of the others at this stage and try to get through it. We should be able to give you some tactile sensory input pretty quick and that seems to be the key to feeling human again.”
“Hell Doc I’m sorry I bitch so much, but . . . dammit. Human, what a crock.”
The small camera assembly suspended from the laboratory ceiling that functioned as Martin’s eyes swung silently from the constantly changing holographic tank to a dull gray cylinder sitting on a self-powered trundle. The two micro-lenses seemed alive for a heartbeat as they corrected for parallax and focus.
Martin studied the container for a few seconds. “Shit Doc, I am a crock.”
“True, you may call it a crock, but to me it’s a self-contained, pseudo biological life support system.”
“Oh well, that’s different. I’m impressed, now I can tell every body I live in a self contained, pseudo something or other.”
“Or you could just call it a brain bucket like the rest of the cyborg.” Swain rolled his eyes in disdain.
“Now that’s really dignified.” Martin had to laugh in spite of himself.
The conversation was interrupted by a series of beeps and a shift in status displays on the console next to Doctor Swain. He studied the readouts for a moment. “Finally, it’s about time. Martin, look at me.”
The camera pod swung around to point at the Doctor.
“Martin, the system just finished the final calibrations on your container’s sensory pod.” He nodded at the cameras. “I’m going to bring the system fully on line. Hang on, it’s going to be a little disorienting at first.”
“Ok, go for it.” Martin braced himself for another blast of weirdness.
Swain ran through a quick button sequence and Martin’s world was shattered by a maelstrom of color and sound. Martin wanted to scream, but held on in silent desperation. Everything started to settle down and Swain came back in focus from a lower view point.
Martin sat in numbed amazement. He could hear Swain’s breathing and pulse, the laboratory was a kaleidoscope of hums, clicks and a thousand other noises Martin couldn’t even describe. The Doctor looked like he was a hundred feet away, but was incredibly clear. Martin could easily see the color of his eyes. “My god Doc . . .”
“Sometimes I envy you guys.” Swain whispered, but it sounded like a roar to Martin. Swain held up his index finger to the cameras mounted on the pod. “Martin, I want you to look at my finger. Do you see it?”
“Yeah Doc, I see it. It’s a long way away but it’s clear, incredibly clear.”
“Ok Martin, that’s good. Now I want you to study my finger, really stare at it.” Swain directed.
Martin stared at the finger and it started to grow larger. He watched in silent fascination as it kept growing until he could see the individual pores in the grooves of the fingerprint. “My God, Doc.” The vision snapped back to the previous view the instant Martin shifted his ‘eyes’. It was a startling reset. “Incredible.”
“Maybe, but you really haven’t seen anything yet.” Swain grinned. “Your new eyes can see in virtually total darkness, they see way beyond the normal visible light spectrum on both ends. As a matter of fact once you master them you’ll have the equivalent of limited x-ray vision because your eyes can detect gamma radiation and process it as normal light, as far as your perception is concerned.” He picked a set of head phones up off the console. “Now I want you to listen to these.” He vaguely shook the headset in the canister’s direction. “Just concentrate on them. Close your eyes, it might help.”
Close my eyes? Martin, closed his eyes and moaned with delight as his world vanished into darkness. He blinked several times reveling in the intermittent darkness. He slowly opened his eyes and stifled a howl of delight as the world faded back into view.
He studied the headset for a second and started hearing it, he closed his eyes exalting in the voluntary darkness and listened. The music grew louder and the background noises faded. He continued to listen. I’ve always liked this song. The unbidden thought interrupted his concentration. The music filled his world with pristine brilliance except for some minuscule distortion, it wasn’t enough to detract from the music, but it was there none the less. Suddenly the music was gone and Martin snapped back to reality. “Whoa, what the . . .”
“Sorry, I moved the headphones. I assume you could hear them by you silence.”
“Yeah I could hear them just fine.” Martin considered what he had heard. “There was some sort of distortion I don’t think it will be much of a problem though. I could hear the music really well.”
Swain laughed. “Distortion, glad to hear you noticed it. These are some pretty high tech headphones, but you were still hearing their limitations, from what, twenty feet away. Also both earphones were on, so believe it or not, you were also hearing the phase distortion from the same sound coming from two different sources.”
“This is incredible. I can close my eyes Doc, do you know how much I’ve missed that? I bet I’ll sleep now, I mean really sleep.”
Swain smiled as he turned back to the console. “All right, now let’s get this mess calibrated so it all seems a little more natural.”
. . .
“Hey Doc, something’s beeping in my head.” Martin wasn’t really alarmed, so many strange experiences had happened over the last few days it all seemed natural.
“What?” Swain looked up absently from his console. “Oh that’s your doorbell.” He went back to work.
“My what! Earth to Doctor Swain. My doorbell?”
Swain sighed looking up from his console to Martins container. “For lack of a better term, it’s your doorbell.” Swain shook his head in consternation. “It’s part of your sensory pod programing . . .”
“Damn, there it goes again.”
“Well answer it.”
“Ok . . . HOW THE HELL DO I ANSWER IT!!”
“Oh, sorry. Don’t say anything. Just concentrate on it and think you�
��re saying ‘Hello’. Oh and your environment is going to shift, so don’t be alarmed.”
Just concentrate on it and think you’re saying hello, and my environment(?) is going to shift(?). Jesus Christ, I wish I knew what was going on. Martin focused on the beep and thought ^Hello??^.
The laboratory disappeared and very clear three dimensional image of a pretty blond girl appeared, she just seemed to be floating in space surrounded by a vague, distant pale gray fog. “Whoa shit, Doc, hey Doc! I’m losin’ it here. Hello!” Then he heard familiar laughter from two places at once and shut up. “Maria?”
“I told you he was quick.” Swain laughed.
“Hi guys.” Her voice seemed to come from all over and to Martin it was perfectly synchronized with the image in his mind.
Martin was reeling. “Put me down as confused.”
“Hi Maria.” To Martin, Swain’s voice just seemed to come from nowhere. “Would you explain the facts of cyborg life and hard linking to our friend here? I need to work on his carriage so I won’t bother you for a while.”
“Sure no problem, Doc.” ^How ya doing Martin?^
Martin noticed the last part of conversation only came from the image rather than from all over. “I can see you.”
“An acute observation.” Swain, snickered in the background.
“Doc, butt out.” Maria’s voice came from all over. ^Listen to me Martin, don’t say anything, just listen.^ The image smiled and sighed. ^It’s like this. A hard link is a private communication between cyborg. It’s all part of the sensory package programming according to Doc. If you just think you’re talking to the other cyborg only they can hear you. That’s what I’m doing now. If you actually speak everyone can hear you. Now you try it, just think like you’re talking to me, but don’t actually speak. Doc told me one time that it’s got something to do with the thought process verses the nerve motor drive impulses that would normally make your larynx and everything work.^
^Like this?^.
^Yeah, like that.^
Martin had an uncomfortable thought. ^Can you read my mind?^
^No, thank God,^ Maria laughed, ^only directed thoughts can be heard.^
Martin stared in amazement as he watched Maria wave her hands around as she talked. He gazed around his empty world. ^But I can see you, how . . . can you see me?^
Maria smiled and did a pirouette. ^Not yet, you’re just kind of a gray fuzzy blur. Don’t worry about it, Doc will help you get everything set up. For now we just wanted to make sure you could adapt to the hard link. You did real good Martin.^
Martin ‘walked’ around the giggling girl then reached out to try and touch the image in front of him. He could see a gray fuzzy phantom arm reach out and pass through her image.
Maria frowned. ^It’s not considered polite to touch in a hard link.^
^You just seem so real. I thought maybe I could feel you. I’m sorry.^ This is just so bizarre.
Maria studied him for a few seconds. ^It’s all right, no offense taken. Just don’t do it again to anyone . . . unless you’re invited.^ She gave Martin a toothy grin. ^Hey, I gotta run.^
^But how do I contact anyone else?^ Martin still felt a little ashamed for being so forward.
^Doc can explain, you take care.^ “Bye Doc, he’ll be fine.”
“Oh bye Maria, thanks for stopping in.”
Martin watched in pained fascination as the image faded from his mind and mentally shook his head as the laboratory snapped back into view. “Doc, we gotta talk. And was she really that pretty in real life?”
“Yes, Martin . . . she really was.” Swain slumped down into a computer chair and leaned back facing the container. “And we have more to talk about than you can even imagine.” He swiveled around and tapped a few keys on various consoles. Most of the displays faded out and the background noise dropped noticeably. He faced Martin again. “Martin, we are coming to the point of no return here and need to make some decisions. I know it hasn’t been an enjoyable time for you the last week, and I apologize for my part of your discomfort. Just having myself and occasionally Maria to talk to has to be rough. Now that your container is becoming self contained you’ll have more contact with the other cyborg. It’s going to be very disorienting at first, just try to take it as it comes.” Swain paused. “Martin, how do you feel about being a cyborg?”
Martin hesitated. How do I feel about being borged? How do you tell somebody that in an instant your life is gone? That all your hopes and dreams have been blasted to dust that trickles to nothingness through your non-existent fingers. How do you explain the frustration and gut level fear about going from an independent, self sufficient person to being stuffed in a bucket and relying entirely on those around you? How . . . He studied Swain’s friendly face with its compassionate eyes and felt a surge of guilt. Suck it up dumbass, this man has centered his life around you and given you hope . . . and has been a true friend through all of your bitching and whining. Just suck it up! “It’s been a little overwhelming Doc. I know we’re progressing, but it just seems to be taking so damn long, and you’re right, there have been some really lonely hours. You’ll never know how much you miss something as simple as closing your eyes. The thought of real sleep makes me almost delirious. But for the most part Doc, I guess I’m satisfied. I’m not real happy, but I figure things will get better. Now, what do we really need to talk about?”
Swain nodded his head and gave Martin a sad, understanding smile. “Martin, you’ve been reborn in every sense of the word, but you never had a chance to be a child this time. And quite simply, what do you want to be when you grow up? Right now there are one hundred sixty some odd cyborg on this station. They do all sorts of specialized work. You’ve seen them working in the bays, doing maintenance, rescue work and, of course, fighting. There are no limitations, Martin. As I said, you have been reborn, but this time you’re not limited by your physical body. You can be what ever you want to be. We’ve got grandmothers doing hostile environment rescue and extraction work, gung-ho soldier types happily doing routine maintenance. And the Casper Milquetoast’s of society, freed from their physical bodies, becoming ferocious fighters.” Swain’s attention drifted away from Martin. “A few years back I had the privilege of dealing with a volunteer cyborg. He was an older gentleman who had spent his entire career as a statistician locked in the depths of some mindless bureaucracy. He was sharp as a tack, but his body had just fallen apart around him. He wound up as a warborg in a strike fighter, a pretty damn good one. Eventually he got himself killed, but I know he died a happy man. His greatest fear was to just fade away. One of his group told me he was laughing his defiance in a very out numbered fight when a missile finally got him. He got his wish, he didn’t just fade away, he went out with a flash, knowing he took four of them with him that day.” Swain shook his head slightly and refocused on Martin. “The problem I have is, from this point on, I have to start setting up your container differently for each type of work.”
Martin hesitated. “I guess as far as I’m concerned there’s never been a doubt in my mind. Lord knows I’ve thought about it a lot, I want to be a warborg Doc. I was fighting when I landed in this friggin’ bucket and I’d just as soon keep fighting while I’m in it.”
Swain sighed and rubbed his temples for a moment. “If you’re sure that is what you want, so be it. But Martin, are you sure? Being a warborg has some nasty drawbacks. First, the container is setup entirely different from all the others making it completely incompatible. You will never be able to do anything else without a complete biological transfer. You will have to start over from scratch if you change your mind later. In fact once your container is installed in a ship it becomes so integrated that voluntary removal becomes problematic. Second, as a warborg you can never go back to Earth without being physically disarmed, an expensive, long and involved process. I know how stupid it sounds, but there are enough borgaphobes on Earth to make it stick. Lastly, the survival rate isn’t good, a life span measured in months, n
ot years and quite frankly, many die slow ugly deaths. Are you sure Martin, really sure?”
“Yeah Doc, I know what I want. You don’t know how many times we were out there getting our butts kicked when the warborgs showed up. A lot of the guys were afraid of them, I wasn’t. They never said much, just saved our asses, gave a cursory sign off and left. As trite as it sounds it’s about honor Doc. Some of those guys didn’t make it back bailing us out, now it’s payback time. No Doc. There’s no question.”
A slow sad smile crossed Swain’s face. “Well, I figured that would be your decision the instant I read your personnel file while you were still unconscious.” His smile brightened noticeably. “And that, Captain Morgan, is why at this moment you are sitting in an insulated titanium re-enforced ceramic container rather than the usual aluminum one.” The smile turned into a true grin. “You know Captain, it is really nice to guess one exactly right once in a while.”
“Captain Morgan? Ahhh . . . Doc. What happened to Martin?”
Swain leaned back chuckling. “From the moment you made your decision Captain Martin Morgan was officially back on active duty.”
“Oh, some duty. Sitting in a brain bucket learning how to count my goddamn toes. Call me Martin, Doc. At least until I feel like I’m really doing something useful again.”
“Alright Martin, and you are doing something useful. You are going through the most intensive re-habilitation possible. Never forget that . . . never.” Swain ended the statement leaning forward in his chair, staring Martin right in the cameras.
“Yes sir,” was the only reply.
4: Back On Line
Martin’s doorbell interrupted his listening to some ancient rock and roll. ^Hello.^ The figure that appeared in his mind wasn’t Maria, it was a Commander in full uniform. It was the first strange cyborg he had encountered. Almost in a panic he shut down the music, mentally jumped to his feet and saluted, at least that’s what he hoped he did. ^Sir!^
