"Or hours," he said, again the annoyance at the delay springing to the front of his thoughts. He turned to Trevors, who scanned over the same diagnostic data. "When did you say the surgeon was supposed to arrive?"
Trevors didn't take his eyes off the screen. "I didn't." Before Dr. Calloway could open his mouth in a retort, his colleague continued, checking his watch. "However, I believe he ought to be here any minute."
The corner of Calloway's mouth curled in a sneer. "Well, he's three weeks late already. What's another few minutes?"
Dr. Trevors didn't reply. He hunched over diagnostics, still occasionally glancing at the news reports on his datapad. Calloway busied himself with digging through any of the slightest anomalies detected during the weeks of testing. He knew each miniscule malfunction by heart, and he was more than assured the problems had been fixed, tested, re-fixed, re-tested, and re-everythinged a dozen times.
There was truly nothing to do but wait.
An hour passed in the dullness which followed, and finally the neurosurgeon arrived.
Dr. Calloway's irritation had deepened significantly during the period of waiting, as contemplation of already-solved problems didn't hold his attention very well. When the escort of soldiers filed out of the elevator, his face was fixed in an angry scowl.
They moved quickly, taking positions around the isolation lab and standing at attention. Two more men stepped out, one wielding an air and expression of military authority along with the markings of high rank. The other was a short, bald man who carried a cryo-container labeled Organs for Transplant.
Calloway immediately disliked both men. Military personnel often seemed so short-sighted and arrogant, and the expression on the surgeon appeared so damnably smug. Without saying a word, the surgeon made it seem as though the entire project, all of Calloway's hard work, was of his doing.
"Surgeons..." the doctor muttered, turning back to his work.
The two men cycled through the arduous security, and after several moments, the door to the lab slid open.
"Greetings Dr. Calloway, Dr. Trevors," the military man spoke in a crisp tone. "I'm Colonel Pierce, and this is Dr. Ymarin."
The surgeon gave a thin smile and a nod, all but ignoring the other two doctors before moving toward the table. "This is the one, yes?" he asked in a nasal tone. "Hm. Brutish. IVAN, is it?" He peered down his nose at the body on the table. "Was it really necessary, doctor, to craft him with an Old Earth eastern-European descent?"
An involuntary growl, almost inaudible, escaped from Calloway's throat. He spoke in a scathing tone. "We seemed to have a surplus of time on our hands due to the significant delays in the project. Crafting a more intimidating form seemed an appropriate diversion while we waited."
Ymarin shrugged. "I apologize my rigorous and very important schedule could not easily accommodate this small diversion." Calloway's scowl deepened.
"Gentlemen," Colonel Pierce interrupted, "I believe it would be best if we focused upon the task at hand."
"Yes, yes." Dr. Ymarin waved a hand in dismissal. "I have many pressing matters to attend to. Dr... Calloway, is it?" He cocked his head. "Could you see to it that my payment is processed? I would like to avoid any unnecessary delays once the work is completed."
Calloway bared his teeth. "Listen here, you little-"
"I'll contact the boys upstairs to take care of it Dr. Ymarin," Trevors cut in, barely concealing a smile at Calloway's expense. "You're going to need Dr. Calloway's assistance for the procedure, anyway. I'm afraid the implantation process, though fascinating, is a bit beyond my own expertise. All I can do is watch."
"Hm. Indeed." Ymarin eyed Calloway. "Well? Are you just going to stand there with a dour expression, or are you going to make yourself useful?"
Biting back a retort, Calloway stepped towards his diagnostics console. Hiding his amusement, Trevors moved out of the room, heading toward the office to make his call. The colonel stepped to the side and held a passive, watchful expression.
The two remaining doctors continued to snipe at each other as they set about the task. Ymarin cracked open the cooling unit and gingerly extracted the final piece of Ivan. Calloway took a brief moment to marvel at the human brain. Normally so small and unimpressive, this particular organ crawled with cybernetic enhancements. Metallic parts spewed from every inch of the gray tissue, a cocoon of brilliance and technology. Trevors stepped back to the observation glass as they began the work.
The task was arduous. The brain fit snugly within the neosteel confines of the skull plate, and Ymarin, with a surgeon's deftness, connected each relay. As he did, Calloway ran diagnostics and electrical currents through each to ensure proper coupling. Every one took time to attach and time to verify, and there were many.
Calloway and Ymarin fell into silence, ceasing their posturing and focusing upon the work. A begrudging respect fell over Calloway as he observed the surgeon's amazing steady hands and flawless progress, not that he'd ever admit it.
Finally, the last connection set into place, and Calloway confirmed it as functional.
"Well, I must say, doctor, your performance was adequate," Ymarin said as he flicked his gloves into the waste receptacle. "I have several pressing appointments yet today, but I admit I'm curious to see whether or not this brute will actually function."
Dr. Calloway ignored the surgeon, excitement coursing through him.
He shouldered his way past Ymarin and set about affixing the skull plate, complete with a thin dusting of hair on top of the synth-flesh. A few moments and a brief electrical stimulation later, the skull plate nestled in place, and the skin sealed itself together. The slab of technology was finished, awaiting activation.
Calloway stepped back, almost in awe of how Ivan appeared as innocuous as an unconscious or dead human, minus the obvious anatomical indicators. He turned towards the colonel. "Are we cleared for a demonstration?"
"Yes, doctor, please proceed." Pierce gave a sharp nod.
"Step back," Calloway said to Ymarin.
"He's not going to bite, is he?" The surgeon smirked.
Calloway snorted. "His energy output could vaporize your body and this facility in less time than it would take for your arrogant and feeble mind to realize its imminent demise." With a shocked expression, Ymarin opened his mouth to retort. Calloway held up a hand. "This is more delicate and dangerous than simply connecting nerve tissues. Please step back."
With an offended scowl, the surgeon moved to the side and looked on. Dr. Calloway, heart hammering, approached his creation.
Upon Ivan's chest, digging prongs into the synthetic flesh, he placed a device. "The 'on' switch," he said, a nervous energy cracking his voice. "It's needed to activate the reactor gradually. To avoid overload."
Sweat beading on his forehead, he stepped over to the console. After a few button presses, Ivan's reactor came to life, warming slowly. Tiny fluctuations stabilized as the energy device hit minimum output. He dialed an increase.
An audible hum filled the air along with the subtle stench of ozone. Pierce tensed, reaching for the butt of his side arm. A bluish hue crackled over Ivan's body as the flesh absorbed and dissipated the energy which surged through him. Ymarin watched the unmoving body with amazement as Calloway dialed another increase.
The humming swelled to a low drone, a rumble which rattled inside the skulls of those present. Dr. Calloway's vision blurred, and his eyes watered. Ymarin worked his jaw up and down, as though trying to pop his ears. "Is this normal?" he asked, tones of fear in his inflection.
Clenching his vibrating teeth, Calloway said, "Yes," and dialed the final activation.
Luckily, the power-up test had already been conducted more than once. The process of gradual increase was determined and solidified, so there was no real danger of any manner of vaporization as long as Calloway handled it appropriately. The only possible trouble would be if the casing and brain tissue was not constructed or calibrated properly. All of Ymarin's hard work would be liquef
ied inside the skull plate, leaving a hideous, stinking mass.
The drone settled, and the hue faded away from Ivan's flesh. Calloway wiped a sleeve across his forehead. "Any second now," he murmured.
"For what?" Ymarin asked, impatient.
Calloway shot him a glare and held up a silencing hand. He turned his attention back to Ivan, unblinking and holding his breath.
The body twitched.
"Yes..." Calloway whispered.
Ivan's eyes opened.
"Can you hear me?" Calloway asked softly.
The machine, the mass of technology on the table, shot bolt upright and screamed.
Eyes wide open and mouth agape, the shrieking of the machine on the table continued for several seconds as the various people present stood completely stunned.
"This isn't right!" Calloway shouted, clapping his hands over his ears. "This shouldn't be-"
"Turn it off!" the colonel bellowed. "Shut it down!"
Ivan continued screaming, volume and tone never wavering. The machine appeared to be looking back and forth, fright etched across its eerily lifelike features.
Calloway shook his head. "I don't understand; this shouldn't be-"
Pierce seized the doctor by the arm and dragged him close, shouting into his ear. "Turn this damn thing off, now!"
Wincing, Dr. Calloway turned towards the console and punched in a few keys, sending the signal to the device to start a power-down sequence.
The undying scream cranked up in volume, and Calloway fell to the ground, vision blurring and ears feeling as though they were about to burst. Ivan's arms flailed about, scratching at the resilient synthetic flesh coating his skull.
Seeming to notice people with him for the first time, Ivan shot a glare at Dr. Ymarin and shrieked, "What have you done to me?!" The hideous wailing ceased as Ivan balled his fists at his forehead. Cross-legged on the table, he rocked back and forth.
Ymarin's mouth was open, quivering, and he stared in horror and confusion. Calloway grasped at the table edge, pulling himself up and punching a few more commands.
"Grrraaaaaaaaagh!!" Ivan flailed backwards, convulsing and resuming the agonized screams. His arms thrashed violently, denting the table upon which he lay. One hand slammed into his chest, clutching.
The reactor control device smashed easily. Weak residual currents coursed into and through Ivan's hands, dispersing in the energy absorbent flesh.
Calloway's mouth fell open as the console he worked at went dark. Whirling around, he saw the twisted bits of metal and circuitry clenched in Ivan's large fist. "Oh no..." he whispered. Paling, he turned to the colonel. "I... I can't shut it down."
Clenching his teeth, Ivan slid off the table to unsteady feet. No longer screaming, the machine jerked his gaze around, a terrified fury more than evident on his features.
Colonel Pierce snapped an energy pistol out of a holster and slammed a fist through the glass and into an emergency button located on the wall. Red light pulsed and klaxons blared with the message, "Warning. Warning. Emergency quarantine in effect."
Blast doors on the outside of the lab slid shut, cutting off the view of the startled soldiers. Ivan snapped his gaze all around, confused by the activity. Settling on the only challenging figure, Ivan's expression changed to a snarl.
Not waiting for him to charge, Colonel Pierce snapped off several shots. Yellow bursts of energy impacted Ivan's body, splashing across the flesh. They dissipated without effect, and fear crossed the colonel's eyes.
Bellowing, Ivan hurled the handful of twisted metal and electronics at the colonel. Calloway screamed in fright as the broken device crashed into the colonel's chest, smashing his sternum and several ribs. Pierce was thrown backward by the impact, slamming into the wall before crumpling to the ground.
Energy crackled across Ivan's flesh. Anger remained in his feature, but there was no longer any sign of fear or pain. Calloway trembled as Ivan glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings. His gaze landed first upon the meek form of Ymarin, who gasped.
"What have you done to me?" Ivan growled, stepping towards the surgeon.
Ymarin held out his hands and shook his head. His mouth worked up and down, but the surgeon's terrified mind found no words.
"What have you done to me?" Ivan repeated, looming over Ymarin.
Trembling, the surgeon's voice cut loose in a rapid babble. "Please, I didn't, there was nothing- I couldn't, I don't know what the problem, certainly wasn't my fault-"
A massive hand thrust forward and closed around the surgeon's throat, cutting off the frightened stream of nonsense. Ymarin's eyes bulged, veins throbbing on his forehead as Ivan effortlessly pulled him to eye level. "It hurts," he hissed.
"Not... fault..." Ymarin gurgled, face purple and pulling weakly at the hand which strangled him.
During this, Calloway cowered, huddled beneath the workbench and too terrified to assist his colleague. The colonel was already unconscious or dead- the doctor couldn't tell -bleeding on the ground with the reactor device embedded in his chest. The energy pistol lay at his side. Trembling, the doctor crawled forward, grasping the weapon.
A shadow loomed over him.
Calloway let out a scream as he was seized by the collar and dragged up off the ground. "Pleasepleasepleaseplease!" he babbled. "I didn't do it; it wasn't me!"
Ivan slammed him face first onto the center table. Calloway's forehead rebounded off the hard metal, sending a burst of stars into his vision. Consciousness clung by a thread as Ivan turned him over, grasping his lab coat with both hands. Warm blood rushed out of the doctor's forehead.
"What am I?!" Ivan screamed.
The doctor's awareness swam far beneath reality. There came the muddled blaring of computerized warnings and some very loud shouting nearby, flashing red lights, and blood spilling down his face. Calloway held a vague awareness of the bone-rattling shaking of his body as Ivan demanded answers to questions.
Calloway's vision had fallen to a complete gray, and it took several moments for a random thought to tell him Ivan had released him. Half-conscious, Calloway rolled over and fell to the ground. Nausea roiled up from within, and he braced himself on all fours while overcome with hideous retching.
Reality flashed in occasional pulses, like a time-lapsed recording. Banging and screeching metal resounded as he heard Ivan tear through the walls. Flashes of yellow came along with screaming as soldiers failed to stop him. Calloway noted vague emotions of horror as the twisted body of the former surgeon lay upon the ground, eyes wide and sightless. Calloway stumbled outside the gaping hole in the lab wall to see more broken, unconscious, and dead bodies. Trevors lay sprawled near the break room, blood dribbling down a head injury.
The elevator doors yawned open, but only sparking cables appeared where a comfortable car should have been. Calloway tripped and sprawled to the ground. Coughing, he rolled over. Sweat and blood stung his eyes, nausea crawled over him. Incessant pounding in his skull filled his every sensation, and the doctor wondered what possibly could have gone wrong.
******
"And so?" I asked as the madman standing next to me ceased speaking, staring at one of the glowing green diagnostic lights on the wall.
The man blinked, breaking out of his deep thought. "Erm, yeah. Uh, Calloway was dragged outta there by soldiers and medical people sometime later. They patched him up and questioned him to no end." He tugged at his scraggly beard. "He was one of the folks shipped out to deep space exploration detail: not a soul to talk to for hundreds, thousands of light years."
Frowning, I responded, "Were they able to find out what happened?"
"There were a lot of guesses, but they figured that Dr. Ymarin had screwed something up when putting the implants in the brain tissue." The man shrugged. "Something to do with the pain receptors. It drove Ivan crazy when they woke him up. His brain believed that every nerve in his nonexistent body was bursting with agony." He chuckled. "It's kinda funny. Without the boosted architecture in his
brain, he probably would have shut down and died from the shock. 'Course, if Ymarin hadn't messed it up, there wouldn't have been that pain response in the first place. Ironic, huh?"
"Not really. What of the others?"
He tossed up a hand. "Ymarin and Pierce were both dead, as were most of the soldiers. The ones who survived couldn't explain much besides the meat grinder of Ivan tearing through them."
"And you?" I asked. "What business and fascination drew you to this great conspiracy?" A small amount of mockery lay in my tone.
The man threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, my my, he hasn't figured it out. Isn't it obvious?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"I'm Dr. Trevors, of course, and I saw the whole damn thing from conception to cover-up." He puffed out his chest, posturing an air of importance. "I knew those itty-bitty pea shooters they had wouldn't do a blessed thing to Ivan. I saw in the testing what he could do. I knew they wouldn't stop him, and I wasn't even going to try. Even so, he gave me a few lumps too, just for being there. I was lucky he didn't kill me."
Skeptical, I said, "Yet you weren't shipped out along with Calloway."
He grinned, again revealing the hideous, rotten teeth. "I didn't let them find me. I've been hiding, waiting, trying to dig up the proof I need to blow this whole thing wide open."
"Indeed," I replied, turning towards the ladder. "Well. I appreciate your time, Dr. Trevors," I said with hints of sarcasm.
The grin widened, and I could barely keep from grimacing at the sight. "Oh, my pleasure. You just make sure the right people hear about this, okay?" The smile faded. "It's important that people know the truth about Ivan. Keritas has to be held accountable for all the things he's done since they let him escape."
The Legend of Ivan Page 5
