Panic.
Rylan stands in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim lighting in the corridor. The room is a cacophony of shrieks and wails from the pump, and gurgles from my own throat.
"Pump! Dr. Lira! Get me Dr. Lira! NOW!" Rylan screams into his radio. His eyes are wide with terror.
He rushes to the side of the bed. "Oh fuck me. Oh fuck. Oh nonono..." He fumbles with the interface, his fingers trembling. "Okay okay stop! S-stop! Emergency Stop... There's gotta be... there's a..."
He's tapping at the holographic display, but nothing happens. The screen is frozen, locked. The only thing being displayed is the drain icon.
"Damnit!" he smacks the side of the pump with his palm. "Work, you son of a bitch!"
His comm beeps. "Lira here. What's the emergency?"
Rylan fumbles with his radio, almost dropping it."PUMP! L-lira the pump! It's... It's... He's convulsing!" he yells. "It's not responding!"
"What? Rylan I need you to—"
"HE HAS NO FUCKING BLOOD LIRA ITS SUCKING IT OUT OF HIM!" he screams into the comm.
"NNGHH...! AAAAAAAAHHH!"
My body is a taut wire. Every muscle is screaming. My vision is tunneling, the world narrowing to a pinprick of light. The only thing real is the pain. The pulling.
"Fucking piece of..." Rylan's trying to pry open the pump's casing with his bare hands. "Fuck! Cassie! Joric! Someone! Anyone!" He's desperate, screaming into the empty corridor.
My lungs are on fire. My body is being wrung out like a wet rag. It’s pulling. Pulling. Pulling.
"LIRA, LIRA WHAT DO I DO!?" he screams back into the comm.
"There's a recessed button on the side panel, press and hold it to cut power to the pump!"
He feels his way around the smooth, humming shell of the pump. "Where!? I can't... I can't see anything!"
He grabs the pump and pulls, trying to get to the back of it. The device screeches in protest. He's going to break it. The cord. He needs to unplug the cord. He follows the thick, black cable with his hands, feeling for the wall socket.
"Nononono..." he whispers.
The cord is gone. It doesn't go into the wall. It goes into the floor. Through a sealed port.
"No! Nonononono damn it DAMN IT!"
Rylan... Rylan please hurry...
"Okay. Okay. Button. Recessed button." He's talking to himself. He feels around the pump again, his fingers searching for anything, anything at all.
"There! There is it!" he yells.
His thumb finds a small, circular indentation.
"ssshhheeehhhh... nnnngggggg..."
"It's okay. I got it. I got you." he whispers.
He presses. Hard.
WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIR.
Nothing.
Nothing happens.
"What?" He presses it again, still nothing. He holds it down as hard as he can, nothing. The alarm is deafening.
"AHHH!"
His comm beeps again. "Rylan! Report!" It's Dr. Joric's voice. He must have heard the alarm.
"It's the pump, Doctor! Its draining out the blood, I can't get it to stop!" Rylan screams.
"I'm on my way! Just... Just break it! I don't care! Just break the pump!" Joric says.
Break it?
Rylan looks around the room, his eyes wild. He grabs a heavy-looking tray from a nearby cart. The metal clatters to the floor.
"ssshhheeehhhh... ahhhgggg!"
He lifts the tray over his head, his muscles straining. He brings it down on the pump with a sickening CRUNCH.
A piece of the casing flies off, skittering across the floor. The pump continues to scream. He hits it again. And again.
WHAM!
WHAM!
The casing is starting to buckle.
"ssshhheeehhhh... ghhhhhhhnnnn!"
RYLAN! HURRY!
He brings the tray down again, this time right on the front panel. The screen shatters and sparks go flying. The pump lets out a final, pathetic whimper and falls silent.
But he doesn't stop.
WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
He's sobbing, hitting the now-silent pump with a desperate, animalistic rage.
"You... you... piece... of... SHIT!"
WHAM!
"Rylan!"
WHAM!
"Rylan, stop!"
WHAM!
"RYLAN!"
WHAM!
A pair of hands grabs his wrists. It's Dr. Joric.
"STOP! It's over! It's off!" he yells.
Rylan sags, the tray clattering to the floor. He collapses to his knees, his body wracked with sobs.
The room is suddenly, unnervingly quiet. The only sound is Rylan's ragged breathing.
My body goes limp. It's over. I'm alive.
But I'm not okay.
"Okay." Dr. Joric says, "Okay." He grabs his comm "Joric to Lira, the pump is down. We had to uhh... smash it."
"You did what!?"
"It was a bit of a necessity."
"A necessity to smash the one thing keeping him alive?"
"It was also the one thing killing him!" Rylan screams, jumping to his feet. "It was draining him! He was convulsing! I saw it! It was... I don't know... it was wrong!"
"Rylan, please, calm yourself." Dr. Joric says, "Lira, are you able to get a replacement?"
"No. Not immediately. Those things take weeks to assemble and stress test."
"Do we not have anything at all?" Dr. Joric asks.
"I could bring in a Mk.I, but you'd need to manually regulate the respiration. And it will not be able to process the blood substitute. He'll need an actual transfusion. Actual blood."
Joric sighs, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Okay. Get it. Bring it. We're going to need it."
"On my way."
"ssshhheeehhhh... hhhhhh..."
I'm... I'm dying. I... I can't breathe. My chest is... tight. It's... it's a heavy... crushing weight. I can't... I can't...
"Heeeeee..."
"H-helt..."
Both men freeze.
"Did... did he just...?"
"Rylan now is not the time for—"
"ssshhheeehhhh... heh... helt..."
Help. Me.
He looks at Rylan. "You. You need to get him blood. Now. Get the IV kit, set the drip as fast as it can go. He's lost a lot of... of fluid. His brain must be starved."
"Okay. Okay. Blood. Got it."
"H-helt...
"You're going to kill yourself if you keep talking. Just try and breathe." Dr. Joric says.
Breathe. Right.
I try. I try to pull air into my lungs, but they won't cooperate. It's like trying to inflate a flat tire with a hole in it.
A sharp, stabbing pain lances through my chest.
"H-hehhh... hhhhhh... ngh."
"Easy. Easy. Don't force it." Dr. Joric says. "You'll do more damage than good." He looks at the tubes sticking out of my chest, the ends flapping in the open air. "The tubes are exposed. The vacuum can't form. You're just... sucking in empty space."
I can't.
Rylan rushes back, a bag of dark red liquid in one hand and an IV kit in the other. "I got it. I got it."
He fumbles with the tubing, his hands shaking so much he can't get the cap off.
"Here. Let me." Dr. Joric says, taking the bag from him. "Hold him down."
Rylan's hands are on my shoulders, holding me down.
"Hhhhh... nnnghgggg!"
Dr. Joric jabs the needle into a port on my arm. I feel no different. I still feel...
I...
...
"That buys us some time. Hopefully. I need you on chest compressions Rylan. Now."
He nods and starts pressing down on my chest, pumping whatever blood is left through the body. Some of it spills from the loose ends of tubing onto the floor. The room itself is a mess. Shattered plastic, wires and tubes everywhere. The floor is slick with a puddle of the green blood substitute. It smells of copper and chemicals.
"ETA less than a minute! Don't let him die!" Lira's voice crackles over the comm.
"..."
Rylan's face is pale, and his eyes are wide. He looks like he's just watched someone nearly die. Probably because he has.
"You okay Rylan?" Dr. Joric asks, not looking away from the IV drip.
"I... I thought... I thought I'd killed him. I didn't know what else to do." Rylan whispers. "The button... it didn't work. I tried."
"Rylan."
"I did! I swear! I-I... I—"
"Its alright. You did good. You're doing just fine." Dr. Joric's voice is calm, steady. "Just keep at it." Dr. Joric pauses. "He's more resilient than I thought, I'll give him that. To still be conscious after all that."
Resilient? I don't feel resilient. I feel like a deflated balloon. A hollow shell.
I am alive. Barely.
"H-hhhh... ehhhh... nnn..."
"Shhh." Dr. Joric says. "Save your strength. We're not out of the woods yet."
Dr. Joric paces the room, carefully avoiding the puddle of green and now partially red fluid on the floor. He examines the shattered pump, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I've never seen it do that." he says, mostly to himself. "What in the name of our ancestors caused that? A cascade failure? A software glitch?"
Rylan just stares at me as he pushes down on my chest. He looks like he's out of breath.
Dr. Joric turns to the monitor on the wall. "Twenty nine percent... Still climbing. The little fighter. Even now."
He clears his throat. "Every minute without proper respiration, the brain degrades. We might be at twenty-nine percent now, but he'll slip back down to twenty, fifteen... until there's nothing left."
The door slides open. Dr. Lira enters, pushing a large, clunky-looking machine. A series of thick, black cables snake out from it, ending in a set of menacing-looking clamps.
"Sorry it took me so long." She says. She looks at the mess on the floor. "By the stones that lay beneath my feet that's an expensive mess... "
"I'll handle the paperwork." Dr. Joric says. "Just get that thing hooked up."
She pushes the machine closer to the bed. "I can't say that I am an expert at working with the Mk.I, it was finalized before I even graduated secondary school. So bear with me."
The device looks rather old, I almost want to say 2030s or 40s. The exterior casing is made of a cheap, beige plastic that's yellowed with age. There are just a series of dials, switches, and a small, monochrome screen that flickers erratically. It looks like something pulled from a junkyard.
Dr. Lira begins grabbing the tubes snaking around my body and disconnects them from the shattered pump. "I'm not sure these will fit. The connectors are different."
"Just... make it work."
Dr. Lira rummages through her supplies, producing a small roll of electrical tape. Dr Joric scoffs, "You can't be serious."
"Do I look like I'm playing around?" Dr. Lira retorts. Joric doesn't say anything back.
She starts attaching the tubes from my body to the ones on the Mk.I. Its a rather improvised looking web of plastic and tape. "He's going to have to be watched constantly. Any disconnect, any blockage, and he's dead." She looks at Rylan, "You don't leave this room. You don't take your eyes off him. You don't even go to the bathroom without someone to relieve you."
Rylan just nods, still giving me chest compressions. He's breathing hard from exhaustion.
"I'll need to get engineering to identify the issue and get me a new Mk.II as soon as possible. In the meantime," She looks at the old machine, "this will have to do."
She turns a large, clunky dial on the front of the Mk.I. The machine hums to life, a deep, guttural sound, like a sleeping beast stirring. Rylan finally stops to give it a look.
"Breathe in."
The tubes pull. Gently
"Hhhhhh..."
The sensation is strange. Not the sharp, stabbing pain of the other pump, but a dull, steady pull. It's not breathing. It's... being breathed. It's a vacuum cleaner, and my lungs are the dust bag.
The tubes whistle again, a high-pitched, airy sound.
"It's not creating a perfect seal." Dr. Joric says, his brow furrowed. "The efficiency is going to be abysmal."
"He's breathing. Isn't he?"
"ssshhheeehhhh... hhhhhh..."
I am. Sort of. I can feel the air being pulled into my lungs, but it's not enough. It's like trying to drink a milkshake through a coffee stirrer. It's better than nothing, but only just.
"GIve me a couple of hours and I'll get some proper adapters for this thing. In the meantime you'll just have to deal with the whistling."
"What about the blood?" Rylan asks, his voice is still shaky.
"He will need more, but it should be flowing. Its just a... bulkier version of the Mk.II, so if he has blood, it should be moving around in there."
"Remember." She says, "No substitute, only real blood. That means he will need to get nutrients naturally. He'll need to eat."
Eat? The idea is absurd. I can barely breathe. How am I supposed to eat?
"We'll... cross that bridge when we come to it." Dr. Joric says, "For now, we need to monitor him. Constantly."
He looks at Rylan. "Your job, until we get a new pump, is to make sure that this thing," he gestures to the Mk.I, "keeps running. And that he," he gestures to me, "keeps breathing. Do you understand?"
Rylan nods. "I understand."
"Good." Dr. Joric says. "The Board is not going to be happy about this. Fuck."
"They're never happy." Dr. Lira mutters, "That's why you get paid the medium bucks."
They leave. The door slides shut, and I'm alone with Rylan and the wheezing, whistling beast of a machine that's keeping me alive.
Rylan just stands there, watching me. His face is full of guilt.
"ssshhheeehhhh... hhhhhh..."
"I... I should get this cleaned up." He says, breaking the silence.
He leaves the room, and returns a moment later with a mop and some other cleaning equipment. He puts on a thick pair of rubber gloves and starts picking up the shards of the shattered pump. He's careful. He's trying to keep himself busy, to keep his mind off of what happened.
Every scrape of plastic on the floor, every slosh of the mop in the green puddle, echoes in the quiet room. He stops to sneeze, wiping his nose on the back of his glove. "This is some foul shit." he mutters, shaking his head. "Like... industrial solvent and cheap perfume."
I can't smell it. My nose is as useless as the rest of this body. But I can imagine. The chemical sting of it.
He's quiet again, mopping up the last of the green fluid. The floor is clean, and the old... Er, new-but-old pump is gone. I'm glad that it is, but I will probably miss how quiet it was.
"ssshhheeehhhh... hhhhhh..."
He finishes, putting the cleaning supplies away. He stands there for a moment, looking at the floor. It's clean. Impeccable. You wouldn't know that a few minutes ago, I was emptied out onto it.
He's still pale. His eyes are still wide. He pulls the armchair closer and sits down, his hands clasped in his lap.
"Well, that's over."
He grabs one of the tubes and pinches it closed. The hissing stops.
"H-h-h-uhhh..."
"Sorry. Sorry." He lets go, "Just... testing."
...
"You know," he says, "when I took this job, they told me it would be on the cutting edge of science. That I'd be helping people. Changing lives. I would get to see the future."
He lets out a short, bitter laugh.
"Some future, huh?" he says, gesturing to the wheezing machine. "This is a museum piece. And you..." He looks at me, and his expression softens. "Who is this helping?"
"nnnnnoooheeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh..."
"You're right. Nobody.""
He's quiet for a long time.
...
"I never..." he starts, then stops. He takes a deep breath. "I never wanted this. For you. For anyone. I was... proud. When I got this assignment. The consciousness transfer. That's the big one. The one that changes everything. I thought... I don't know what I thought."
He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. His hands are trembling.
"This isn't right..."
...
"I never wanted this." he whispers. "I swear. I just... I just wanted to be a part of something... important."
"ssshhheeehhhh... hhhhhh..."
"I just..." he says. "I don't know. I don't know what to do."
"O-och... Okay..."
It's a small sound. A single word, broken and breathless. But it's enough. His head snaps up. He looks at me.
"Okay?"
"O... Okay... Isssss... Mmnokay..."
A wave of relief washes over his face. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Okay." he says "O-Okay." he laughs, a watery, tear-filled laugh. "Okay."
He leans back in the chair. "Okay." he says again, as if trying to convince himself.
"Y-you... You need to rest." he says, "I'll... I'll be right here."
I do. I'm so tired. So very, very tired.
"Cnnnn... Y... Y..."
"Hmm?" Rylan leans forward, "What was that?"
"E... Eyes..." I force out. It hurts.
"Your eyes? What about them?"
"C... Lll... Clllose..."
"Oh! Oh, right. Sorry." he says. He reaches out and gently closes my eyelids for me.
Darkness. A blessed, painless darkness.
I drift. Not sleeping, not dreaming. Just... floating. A consciousness in a void. The only thing tethering me to the world is the rhythmic hiss of the pump.
Hours pass. Or maybe minutes. Time stretches and compresses, a river of molasses one moment, a flash of lightning the next. I feel a coolness on my arm. A new bag of blood. The third? Fourth? I've lost count. The slow, steady drip continues. The cold, heavy warmth spreads through me.
Hisss...
...
Hisss...
It's the only constant.
I'm vaguely aware of voices. Low, murmuring. Rylan and someone else. Dr. Joric, maybe. They're talking about me. About the pump. About the "incident." The words are like distant echoes, muffled and indistinct.
"...cascade failure..."
"...unprecedented..."
"...psychological stress..."
"...malicious intent..."
...
"...no evidence..."
"...just keep him stable..."
"...don't let him die..."
The voices fade. I drift again.
A new sensation. A pressure on my face. Something cool and wet. A towel? Is Rylan... Is he cleaning me? He's tending to me. Like I'm a child.
A finger on my eyelid. He's checking my pupils. I flinch away from it.
"Sorry." Rylan whispers.
...
He's talking to me again. He's not asking for a response. He's just... talking.
"You know, my grandmother used to tell me stories," he says. "About the old days. Before the wars. She said the world was quieter then. Simpler. That you could see the stars."
He pauses.
"My grandmother had one of these pumps when her heart started failing." He says, "It was quieter than this one, so she didn't have much trouble sleeping." He looks at the whistling thing. "That thing is going to keep you up all night."
He's not wrong. The whistling is grating, but it’s the least of my problems. I have to focus on breathing, it helps, but even then, it’s not enough, not if I want to speak or think too hard.
He's quiet again.
Then, I feel a flicker. A spark. It's not a memory. Not really. It's more... a feeling. A phantom sensation.
Soft grass under my feet. The smell of damp earth. The gentle warmth of the sun on my fur. A cool breeze rustling the leaves of trees. A low, melodic humming. A voice.
"...my little fawn..."
The thought is gone as quickly as it came.
My breath catches.
"What? What is it?" Rylan is on his feet. "Are you in pain? What's wrong?"
"Nnnn... Noooooo..."
"Are you sure?"
"Mmmmyh... Yehh..."
He sits back down, but he's on edge.
What was that? Where did it come from? It wasn't my memory. It couldn't be. I've never felt grass like that. I've never been called... that.
Whatever. It doesn't matter. Just keep breathing.
The hours bleed into one another. The dim light of the room never changes. I don't know if it's day or night. I don't know if I've been here for a day or a week. Time has lost all meaning.
There is only the pump. The drip. And Rylan. I wonder where everyone else went off to.
He's still talking. His voice is a low, its white noise that fills the silence between the whistles of the pump.
"...and she had this garden..."
"...said the tomatoes tasted better when you grew them yourself..."
"...used to take me out to the country..."
"...said it was a miracle she lived as long as she did..."
Do I want him to shut up or keep talking? I don't know. The noise is a distraction from the pain, but its also him were talking about here. He's a Taijekan. But, he is also the one who saved me. I hate him. But I need him.
...
...
...
I'm floating again.
Dancing on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. My body aches. A bone-deep ache that doesn't seem to have a source. It's just... there.
The door slides open. The light from the hallway slices across the room. It's Dr. Joric.
"How is he?" He walks over to the bed. He looks at the monitors. Then at me. He reaches out and opens one of my eyelids. The light is painful.
"Mmmmnghh..."
"Good." he says, letting my eyelid fall shut. "He's responsive." He looks at Rylan. "I've written to the Board. Now were just waiting on what they say." He pauses, "Lira says engineering has never seen this kind of failure before, and they're a little upset about it being crushed to bits."
"They can be upset, I'd rather him be alive."
I agree. For once.
"If you would like, I can wake Cassie, she could take over for you." He offers Rylan.
"She's still asleep? After all that?"
"I don't think anyone actually called her radio. Did you?"
"No..." Rylan says, "No I... I got it. I'm fine."
He's lying, I can see it. He's slouched over in the chair.
"Rylan, you need to rest."
"I'm fine."
"..."
"Alright." Dr. Joric says. "But if you start to feel tired you need to let me know."
"I will."
With that, Dr. Joric leaves, the door sliding shut behind him. Rylan leans back in the chair, he looks exhausted. He keeps looking at the door, as if expecting someone to burst in.
I want to tell him to go. To get some rest. But I'm far too tired to want to do anything other than just lay here.
So we just exist. In the quiet, still room.
"...Eat."
It's a command, not a suggestion.
"I know." Rylan's reply is weary, "It's just... how?"
"It's simple. You put the syringe's tube down the esophagus until the red line is at the opening of the mouth, then you push the plunger. It goes right into the stomach, so hes not going to choke. See?" She's holding up a large, syringe filled with a beige, sludgy-looking substance. The tip is a wide, soft plastic tube.
"But... what if he aspirates?" Rylan asks.
"If he aspirates, we'll know." Lira says. "He'll start coughing up the solution and we'll call that a 'bad sign'. Then you perform the Heimlich maneuver on a body attached to a life support machine from the last century and pray to whatever ancestors you believe in that you don't rip the lungs out in the process. Now, are you going to do this, or am I going to have to find someone else who can?"
Rylan takes the syringe from her. "You don't have to be so abrasive about it."
"This is not a petting zoo, this is a trial. If he doesn't get nutrients, the real blood we're pumping into him is useless. He is running on fumes and fear. Now, make him eat." Lira snaps. Then, her tone softens. "Please."
"S-should I remove the mouth guard?"
"Sure, if you want to get bit." Lira says, then she turns and leaves. The door slides shut behind her, leaving Rylan and me alone.
He looks at me. I look at him. Sort of, the eyes are not a great window to the soul when the soul in them is screaming in pain.
"Do you want me to leave the mouth guard on?" he asks.
Do whatever you want man, I don't care.
"Nghhh... ooooo..."
"Okay, okay, I'll take it off." He reaches into my mouth and he gets it off. The pressure on my jaw is gone. I close my mouth, slowly, carefully. The muscles ache.
"There." he says, a small note of triumph in his voice. "Better?"
"Y... Yeah... Better."
It's easier to form words without the guard, but the whistling from the pump still makes talking a challenge. I have to try and talk in between the suction. Or at least in the short windows of relative silence.
The voice. Its voice, I can hear it now. Clearer, at least. Before it sounded like I had a speech impediment or half of my brain was missing. Now it just sounds like I have been smoking since 2042.
"You sound better."
"Mmmhmm."
Jeez I'm not going to get used to that voice.
He holds up the syringe, the tube at its tip dangling like a limp noodle. "Okay. So, for this... I'm just going to... you know." He gestures vaguely towards my face. "Just try not to... bite."
"N-... N'promises."
Its a little joke. Kind of. If I had the strength maybe I would bite him and rip his fingers off.
He leans in closer. "Okay. Open up."
It's an effort. Oh its really an effort. My jaw protests with a dull, grinding ache.
"owwww..."
"Easy. Take your time."
I do. I open my mouth, just a little bit.
"That's it. A little more."
I can feel the cool plastic of the tube as he guides it in. It's unpleasant, but luckily I don't think the gag reflex works yet. I feel it sliding down my throat. Deeper. Deeper. Until he stops. The line is just at my lips.
"Okay. Here we go."
He presses the plunger. Slowly. I feel nothing at all at first, but then I feel a coolness in my stomach. Its an absence of warmth, an actual temperature feeling beyond just pressure. How strange.
He's halfway through the syringe.
"Eugh this is going to make me sick..." He says.
"W-w-wuth.."
He chuckles. "Yeah, I am."
He finishes the syringe and slowly pulls the tube from my throat. I gag, and the sound is like a dry heaving.
"hhhh... ngh..."
"Sorry! Sorry! I tried to be gentle." He says.
"It's f-fine."
"You want the mouth guard back on?" He asks, holding up the plastic piece.
"No."
"Okay." he says, setting the guard aside on a nearby tray. "No guard."
He grabs his datapad off the table and starts tapping at the screen.
"H..."
He looks up. "Yeah?"
"Wh... W-w-what..."
"Uh-huh?"
"What... is..." I have to stop and take a breath. "That... Do?" I point at the datapad, my curiosity has gotten the best of me, and I am ridiculously bored.
"Oh, this?" he says, holding it up. "It's just... its like a tablet. I'm logging your vitals, what you ate, when you ate it. Dr. Lira wants me to be... precise." He says the word 'precise' like it's a dirty word. "Its like a tiny computer for work."
"Computer." I have used computers before, I remember that much.
"Yeah." he says, "Well, its a digital computer, not like the one you probably had at home that runs on cartridges. This one is all... solid state and whatnot."
He looks up at me. "You really... don't remember much, do you?"
"I... rem-ember... enough." I say. "But... some things... f-f-fuzzy."
"Like what?"
"Everything."
He nods, tapping a few more things into the datapad. "Well, that's probably for the best."
Is it? I'm not so sure.
I look at my hands. Still small, still delicate. I run one of the thumbs over my palm.
"I... Mm... U-ugly..."
He stops typing. He looks at me, "You're not ugly."
I let out a short, bitter laugh. "Look... at me. Ugly." I say. "Freak."
"Is it because you're a Taijekan?"
"Yes. No. I... I dont know."
"It's... not normal." I manage to say. "This... is not normal."
"No. It's not." He puts the datapad down. "But ugly? That's... that's just a word."
He gets up and walks over to the window, "It's a word used by small people to describe things they don't understand. And you're not small. You're... complicated." He gestures vaguely at me, "Complicated and ugly are not the same thing."
"St... Stupid... F-freak..." I'm crying now. I can feel the hot tears running down the sides of my face. My body is shaking with sobs that have nowhere to go. "I hate this. I hate... me."
"You can't hate yourself." he says. "You're all you've got."
I don't get what that means.
He walks back over to the bed. He doesn't say anything else. He just sits there, watching me cry.
The tears are hot and they sting my eyes. I lift my arm and brutishly wipe my face with my forearm.
"Im... Not exactly the best for this kind of thing. Maybe you could talk to Cassie?"
"No."
"Cassie is a lot more experienced in the field. She's a lot more... I don't know, gentle. She can get you anything you want, too."
"I don't... want... anything."
He sighs. "Okay."
...
The door slides open. Dr. Lira and Dr. Joric step inside. Dr. Lira is holding a datapad with a expression only a mother could love. Almost a bitch face. Dr. Joric just looks tired.
"Did he eat?" Dr. Joric asks.
"Mhm. He's even talking a little more."
"Talking?" Dr. Lira's head snaps up, "What did he say?"
"H-hi."
Dr. Lira looks at me, her eyes wide, "You removed the mouth guard? Why?" She asks Rylan.
"He wanted it off."
"It sucked..." I say.
Dr. Joric is just standing there, eyes wide. He's heard me talk before, but he is just now realizing that this is different, that I can form actual words now. It's not just grunts and groans. Its... me. He's seeing the person inside, and I think he might be a little scared.
"H-hello, Six-eighty-two." Dr. Joric says, "Good to have you with us."
"Yeah... Yeah..." I say, trying to sit up a bit. The effort is immense.
"I think this is a bit late to ask but, how are you feeling? I mean, actually feeling." Dr. Lira asks.
How do I answer that? How do I put this... this existence into words?
"Like shit."
Dr. Lira lets out a short, sharp laugh. "I would be worried if you said anything else." She looks back at her datapad. "Dr. Alani would love to see this don't you agree, Joric?"
Dr. Joric sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I'm sure he would."
"Where... Is he?"
"Dr. Alani has been working his magic to keep your body stable under cryo-stasis."
"...What?"
"He's making sure the big refrigerator keeps your body intact."
"Oh..."
My body. The other one. The one that belongs to me. It's... in a fridge. How... undignified.
"Creepy." I say.
"Creepy indeed." Dr. Lira says, "Your body has been in cryo-stasis since you've been in here, but we needed to make sure the brain tissue was not damaged by the transfer process, so he has been making sure its all... safe."
"I am more concerned about the psychological impact." Dr. Joric says, "No real mental stimulation in over three days, a near-death experience, I'm more surprised that he is able to talk at all."
"To be fair, this was not the plan." Dr. Lira says, "We weren't expecting to have to use a Mk.I, or a Mk.II, or a pump at all." she says, looking at the monstrosity in the room. "And we certainly weren't expecting to have to... feed him like a newborn fawn."
"I've had worse." I say.
Dr. Lira raises an eyebrow. "Have you now?"
"...No."
She lets out a small sigh, "Right. Well, seeing as you can... sort of sit up on your own, I'd like to take some readings of your own brain activity, without the pump interfering."
"What... do you mean?" I ask.
"I mean, I want to see if we can get you off the pump for a few minutes. See if your body has remembered how to breathe on its own."
"W-why?"
"To see if your brain integrity holds up without the assistance. If it does, then we might be able to get you on a more portable system. One that you can... carry with you. Maybe."
"I... don't... know." I say. The thought of it is... terrifying. The pump, as awful as it is, is a constant. Taking it away... it's like asking a fish to walk on land.
"We don't have to do it right now." Dr. Joric says, "But it's something to consider. For the future."
"No, I'd like to do it now." Dr. Lira says, "The sooner I can figure out if you can breathe or not on your own, the sooner I can tell engineering to hurry it up or take their sweet time." She looks at Rylan. "Get me a clean oxygen mask and a small tank."
Rylan nods and scurries out of the room.
"So, what do you think?" Dr. Lira asks me.
"I think... you're... c-crazy."
She smiles. "It's in the job description."
Rylan returns with a clear plastic mask and a small, silver tank with a dial on top. He sets it down on the table next to the bed.
"Okay." Dr. Lira says, "We're going to put the Mk.I on standby and have you on O2 for a minute. If you start to feel like you can't breathe, or if you get dizzy, or if you pass out, just... try to let us know."
"Easier... said... than done."
"Fair enough." She looks at Rylan. "You ready?"
Rylan nods, his face pale.
"Okay. On my mark." Dr. Lira says, her fingers hovering over the dial on the pump. "Three... two... one... standby."
The whistling stops. The pumping stops.
Silence.
It's so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat. Or... a heartbeat if I had one.
The air is heavy in my lungs. It's stuck. I try to inhale, but nothing happens. I try to exhale, but nothing happens. The muscles don't remember.
I start to panic. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.
"Mmmmmph!"
"Keep trying." Dr. Lira says. "Focus. You know how to do this. Your body does."
I try again. I try to remember what it felt like to breathe. To feel the air fill my lungs. The simple, automatic act of living.
Nothing.
"M...mmph..."
My head pounds. I'm going to pass out. Or die. Again.
"Okay, that's enough." Dr. Joric says.
"No, wait." Dr. Lira says, "He can do it. Just give him a second." She looks at me. "Come on. Breathe."
I look at her. Her face is a blur. The edges of my vision are starting to darken...
...
A tiny flutter. A spasm in my chest. A gasp. Its faint, but its there.
Then another.
And another.
I'm breathing. On my own.
...Could you call this breathing? It hurts. But it's happening. I'm doing it.
I can see the excitement on Dr. Lira's face. She's practically vibrating.
"Thirty seconds." Rylan says.
I can feel the air moving in and out of my lungs.
"Forty-five seconds."
"I'm... doing it."
My next breath is a bit of a struggle though, Its starting to get hard again. The next is even harder.
"Fifty-five seconds..."
The room is tilting.
"...Okay, that's enough." Dr. Lira says.
The whistling starts again. The pump is back on. Air is forced into my lungs.
I take a deep, shuddering not-breath. The relief is so intense it's almost painful.
"Well, that's... something." Dr. Lira says, looking at her datapad. "Looks like we will still need you on a pump, but at least we know you can breathe on your own for a minute or so." She looks at me. "How do you feel?"
"Mmn-mmn."
"Right."
"I... I... don't want... to do that... again."
"We wont. For now." Dr. Lira says, "At least I know what to tell engineering."
I don't want to learn. I don't want to be here.
"I'm... Bored." I say.
"I'm sure you are." Dr. Joric says, "But we can't have you moving around too much just yet. We need to make sure your body is fully stable before we even think about physical therapy."
"W-what do... I do?" I ask, "Just... lay here?"
"For now, yes." Dr. Joric says. "But, we can get you some things to do. Some... mental stimulation. We can't get you anything with internet access though, everything is air gapped from the outside world, so..."
"So...?"
"How about an E-reader? I can have Cassie bring you one from the common room. It has a bunch of books on it that you can read through."
"I want a movie."
Dr. Joric chuckles and shakes his head. "One thing at a time. We don't want to overload you. We'll start with some light reading."
"Mmm puzzle...?"
"One thing at a time Six-eighty-two."
"B-boring."
"You'll live."
I let out a sigh. The pump does most of the work, but it's a start.
"C-clothes." I say, "I want clothes."
Dr. Lira looks down at my body, and I flinch away from her gaze. She can see it all. I've been exposed for days now, and the shame of it burns.
"What for? You're not going anywhere."
"I... w-want them."
"I would also like to advocate for some clothes." Rylan says. "For... uh... for morale."
Dr. Lira looks from Rylan to me. "How do you suggest getting the tubes through then, Rylan? Want to figure that out?" That last comment felt rhetorical and condescending. She just likes picking on him, and by extension, me.
"We can detach the tubes and snake them through holes. She— I mean, he can breathe for long enough, right?"
"...I guess. But do you know how much of a pain in the ass that is going to be? You're going to have to detach him, put a gown on him, reattach him, make sure the seals are tight... I still don't have the adapters so you'd need to re-tape them. Do you want to do all of that?"
"I'll do it."
"Right." Dr. Lira says, looking back at her datapad. "I'll have an intern from commons bring you a gown and some undergarments. Try not to get any fluids on it."
"Th-thank you." I say to Rylan. He's a weirdo, and a Taijekan, but he's doing more than anyone else has.
"Yeah yeah," Dr. Lira responds instead of him. "I'll be back later to check on your readings. I need to go yell at some engineers." She says, and just like that she is gone.
Dr. Joric lets out a sigh. "She's just so passionate lately."
"Do you think she's still mad about?" He gestures to the pump.
"Oh absolutely, when she's stressed, she's an angry bear. She will get over it eventually." He pats Rylan on the shoulder, "Can you transfer me today's readings? I need to log it in my reports."
"Oh, uh, yeah of course. I have it right here." Rylan says, tapping on his datapad.
Dr. Joric's datapad beeps.
"Thank you, Rylan." Dr. Joric says. He looks at me. "It's good to hear you talking, Six-eighty-two. Really."
"Ehhh..."
"I'll have Cassie bring that E-reader up for you."
"Okay."
He gives me a final look before he leaves.
And then it's just me and Rylan again. He's not looking at me. He's staring at the door.
"Hey um, I kinda have to pee." He says.
"E-ew. TMI."
He lets out a small laugh. "Sorry, I know, I just... I can't exactly leave you alone. I'd get in trouble."
"So... you're just going to... hold it?"
He shuffles his feet. "At least until the intern gets here."
"Poor baby."
Another short laugh. "Yeah, well..."
We fall into a silence again. He paces the room back and forth. From the bed to the window and back again.
"R-rylan."
He turns his head so quick I almost thought it was going to fall off, "That's me! I mean, yeah?"
"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Moving." I say, "You're... m-making... me dizzy."
"I am not."
"Are to."
"Am not."
"Are to."
"Am not!"
...
This is dumb. It's immature. But it's a conversation. A real one. Not a doctor and a patient. Not a scientist and a specimen. Just two people. One of them is trapped in a dying woman's body, but still.
He sighs and sits down in the chair. "Fine."
We sit in silence for a few more minutes.
There is a knock at the door. "Is someone in there?"
Rylan stands up and opens the door. "Yeah! Yeah. Sorry about that."
A young Taijekan woman, probably a few years younger than me, or her, or whatever I am, is standing there with a bundle of clothes in her arms. She's wearing light blue scrubs, I feel like that's all anyone wears here.
"Dr. Lira said you uh, needed these." She holds out the bundle. Rylan takes it.
"Thanks." he says.
"Y-yeah no problem." The young woman says. She looks at me. Then at the pump. Then at Rylan. "Is there uh, anything else? The doctor said you needed a gown but didn't specify anything else..."
"Actually um, yeah, I need to use the bathroom. Could you just..." He hands her his radio, "Just stay here for like, two minutes. I'll be right back."
The intern looks terrified. Her ears are pinned back against her head, her tail is tucked between her legs. "Oh. Um. Okay. Why do I need this?" She asks, holding the radio.
"Just in case. If anything in here starts beeping, just say that over the radio. I don't know. Just... I'll be back!"
"Okay..."
Rylan hurries out of the room, leaving me alone with the intern. She stands by the door, clutching the radio like a lifeline. She doesn't look at me.
I look at her though. She's young. Inexperienced. She's probably never seen anything like this. Or a thing like me. I wonder what she's thinking.
"Hhhh..."
She gasps and looks at me. Her hands begin to tremble slightly. "Are you... are you okay?"
"P-peachy." I rasp.
She doesn't know what to say to that. So she just stands there. Awkwardly.
"Are you... Scared?" I ask.
She nods slowly.
"It's... o-okay." I say. "I am... t-too."
She looks at me, her eyes are wide. "You don't look okay." She says, her voice trembling. "You look... like you're in a lot of pain."
"I can't feel much... Of anything."
"Um." She says. "Okay." The room is quiet except for the pump. It's a lonely sound.
"What's... your... name?" I ask.
"S-samira."
"Samira." I repeat. The name is strange on my tongue. "I'm..." I don't know what to say. What am I? I don't know if I should tell her my identification numbers, I think that would scare her even more.
Ugh.
"Ly... Lynette."
