Cyborg: Redux

by Imogene Nix

“You’re right. But just to be safe, we’ll give it a couple of minutes before I check out there again.”

  She stood still, waited until the internal screen inside her skull told her ten minutes had passed. With a thought, Clarissa activated the intense hearing part of her programming chip and cracked the door open. She waited and scanned, watching for any sign of movement.

  Satisfied no one was watching, she silently indicated to Clarrie with a wave of her hand, and together they left the building. She’d scouted out the area extensively, so she knew many of the alternative laneways and kept to them, shuffling slowly so Clarrie, who insisted he already felt a lot better, could keep up.

  While Jeremy had money—being a certified billionaire as he’d skited one night during an intimate dinner for two—and genius ranking on his side, along with a bunch of burly guards, she had caution and a newfound sneakiness to rely on. They had kept her safe thus far.

  The tension that had built up within her finally ebbed away as she reached the door to the free clinic. Silently, she shoved the door open and stepped inside.

  * * * *

  Michael wasn’t sure what the commotion was that echoed from the front, but he shoved away from his seat and hurried to the reception area.

  Clarrie sat hunched in a chair, holding the hand of Alyssa, who crouched in front of him, while Mary bustled about.

  “Drink some water, girl. Then I’ll get the doc to see you.”

  “I don’t need to see a doctor. Clarrie is the one who needs him.”

  Mary clucked and fussed while Michael watched the tableau unfolding before him. Clarrie, his patient, was patting Alyssa’s hand. “You need to see the doc too. You don’t go, I won’t.”

  Michael grinned at the air of fragility that the old man assumed. “Did I hear someone call for me?”

  All three heads jerked in his direction, and for a moment he found himself lost in the pale blue of Lissa’s gaze. “I don’t need to see you.”

  “Don’t be stupid, girl. You nearly passed out, and if I don’t miss my guess, you haven’t got any cash or medical insurance either. And Old Clarrie here said he won’t see the doc if you don’t see him too.”

  Her lips thinned, cold slits of pale flesh. Her eyes narrowed too, and Michael was sure he felt the icy chill of winter in her gaze.

  Michael advanced. “I’ll take a look and won’t pass judgement on anything except your medical state, I promise.” He kept his words light and a little teasing.

  Clarrie rose. “Come on, girl. You pushed me into coming here, now it’s your turn.”

  “You know why, Clarrie,” she hissed. “Don’t do this to me.”

  “’Bout time someone did. Now cut rope.” With that he stumped toward Michael. “I’m here because I promised I’d see you.” Then the old man stamped down the corridor to the curtained cubicle.

  Michael turned to Mary. “Don’t let her go.” Then he followed Clarrie down the hall.

  * * * *

  Clarissa seethed. She felt a little unwell, it was true, but she couldn’t afford to be caught up with a doctor. He might know Jeremy, and then she’d be in more danger than ever before. A situation she just couldn’t allow to happen.

  But even as she tried to push up out of the seat, five-foot-nothing of bulk loomed, and a wave of vertigo hit her.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She sighed. Clarissa knew, for now, she was beat, and she settled back in her seat. “Nowhere,” she mumbled.

  “Good. Now be a good girl and wait for the doc.”

  She waited, knowing that Clarrie was seeing the doctor by himself. Would he be okay? Only time would tell.

  When he came stumping down the corridor she sat up. “Everything okay?”

  “I’ll be fine, girly. I need to talk to Mary over here though, and the doc said you’re to go on through.”

  Something must have shown on her face as he gave the you-go-or-else stare, and she headed up the corridor. When she arrived, the doctor was waiting and indicated the seat, which she sat in with a heavy sigh.

  He drew the curtain and stood in front of her. “So, what happened out there?”

  She shrugged, wondering if she assumed a teenage attitude, he might leave her be.

  “Don’t be childish. What symptoms are you presenting?”

  She blinked at hearing the frustration in his voice. So much for that working.

  “A little dizziness, some temperature fluctuations.”

  He cocked his head at her words. “Sore throat? How bad are the temps?”

  She swallowed. “My throat’s good. A bit of spiking, but you know, it’s winter coming.”

  “And you’re living rough?”

  “Not by choice.” She couldn’t stop the mutter then sighed. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

  The doctor scooped up his stethoscope. “Jumper off so I can listen to your chest.”

  Now terror erupted. “No.”

  He stood firm, looming over her, and her vision narrowed. “Jumper off or—”

  A mixture of terror and fury pushed her to surge off the chair. “I’m not going to let you touch me.”

  “Who hurt you, Lissa? Who frightened you so much that you’d fight against this? All I want to do is help you.”

  The gentleness in his words stopped her. Destroyed her. Tears welled, hot and unbidden, then traced down her cheeks.

  “Please, don’t.” She reached out, felt him grip her fingers. “Please.”

  What she was asking for, she honestly didn’t know. It wasn’t for pity.

  “Sit down and let me help you.”

  She desperately needed someone to be kind to her, but it might break her once and for all, into tiny pieces. Then if Jeremy found her…

  Clarissa cleared her throat. “I really need to go.”

  “You really need to stay. Lissa, if this is something that can be fixed, I’ll help you.”

  Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and she sighed. “You can’t.”

  “You might be surprised. Let me try.”

  His eyes glinted, and she narrowed hers, wondering if she was more sick than she thought. For a second, she was sure—

  “What—who are you?”

  His lips, wide and generous, flattened at her words. “What am I? I’m a doctor. Did you expect something different?”

  She shook her head, and another wave of nausea and dizziness hit her. She reached out as blackness crept into the corners of her mind. The clouds that threatened her crowded in until she could only see a pinprick.

  With a sigh, she dropped like a stone into the blackness.

  * * * *

  Michael caught Lissa as she slid forward. She didn’t seem as boneless though as most others he dealt with. Without effort he hoisted her onto the bed behind him.

  He debated calling on Mary, but something told him Lissa wouldn’t thank him for involving someone else.

  Instead, he checked her temperature and frowned at the spike on the thermometer readout. With a sigh he sat back down and waited for her to come around, which she did in short order.

  “Jumper off and let me check your chest.”

  Obviously, she was surprised and followed his instruction without thought, but stilled once it was off.

  “You tricked me.”

  Her tone was caustic, but he saw the scarring. The marks. “Who did this to you?”

  Fury zipped along his veins as he stepped closer, reaching out, but she drew away, and he knew then exactly what had happened.

  “Who? Who did this?” he asked again.

  Surely it couldn’t be Sara? But who else was involved in the bio-cybernetic treatment field? He wracked his brain, but he’d been too long in the medicine wilderness, and Sara hadn’t been keen on discussing contemporary medical technologies with him since the accident.

  “It’s not what you think. I was in an accident.”

  He pinned her with his stare. “They gave you cybernetic treatments, didn’t they?”<
br />
  She shook, and he balled his fists, aware that anything more right now would see her running. “Is that why you’re scared? Who did this to you, Lissa? Why?”

  He needed to know it all, why she was so terrified and who chased her.

  “I can’t—”

  She breathed deeply, in and out, speeding up, and he reached out with a gentle hand, the action belying his words, but he stilled his hand just inches from her skin. “Bullshit! Tell me, Lissa, ’cause you’re so scared I can practically see the terror oozing out of your pores.”

  She let loose a tiny sob, and he felt like a heel, pushing and prodding, but he couldn’t help her until she told him everything.

  “I understand, you know,” he said gently.

  Her head snapped up, her eyes zeroed on his and a sneer gracing her lips. “Like hell!”

  Until she knew about him, she wouldn’t trust a word he said. “I do. Because I’ve had the treatment too.” He tugged at the buttons on his sleeves and rolled them up, watching as her eyes glazed with shock.

  “But…they let you go?”

  Her words told him so much. He sighed. “They did. But only because the researcher who worked on me helped me. Gave me chances to remake my life.”

  Once more her lips wobbled. “They wanted me for a guinea pig. He…he never wanted me, only my body.”

  He. Clearly not Sara then. Michael breathed deeply, thankful that his old friend wasn’t involved.

  “Tell me who and I’ll try to help you.”

  “But he nearly found me this morning. He’ll take me back and do more experiments. I can’t—” The breath she sucked in whistled as her chest heaved. “I won’t let him do that to me again. I’m a person. I feel.”

  Fury rose, scouring his guts. Whoever had done this to her had taken it much too far. The fear, the scarring. And as he inspected closer, he noted not just the therapy scars, but countless other scars that he couldn’t associate with any therapeutic treatment.

  Ones that looked like healed burns and slices. Not deep enough to damage the layers of nano-cording that replaced sinews or muscle, but enough that the dermal layers would have taken extensive healing. The white slashes, far too precise, could only be knife cuts. The discovery soured his stomach, bile rising, and he fought the nausea back for long seconds.

  “Lissa, I know you don’t know me. Not really. But would you trust me if I said I know someone who could and would help you?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head.

  He sighed. “Lissa, the woman who operated on me is a friend of mine. I trust her. She’ll help you too, if you let her.”

  Lissa glanced at him, hope clearly warring with terror.

  “Please. Let me take you to Sara. She’s… I’ve known her for years. She’s a researcher now with the BioDermal Institute. She’s good. Honest. She saved me with this treatment. Let her save you too.”

  “Clarrie?”

  He grunted and decided he’d pay himself for the old man’s treatment if that’s what it took to get this woman off the streets and into a safe situation. “We’ll take him with us. I can get him a bed somewhere and make sure he gets the treatment he needs, but right now, it’s you who worries me.”

  “I don’t want him to find me.” That whisper came close to undoing him.

  “Where I’m taking you, you’ll be safe. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

  Her tiny laugh warmed him.

  “Please, Lissa?”

  She reached out a hand and took his.

  Chapter 7

  Clarissa didn’t know why she trusted this doctor, but she did. He’d shared that he too had received similar treatment. He’d shown her his scars. They weren’t ropey and dark like hers, but careful lines and pucker marks from needle and thread. He’d been so insistent, and she’d been unable to resist. When she’d asked about the spark she’d seen in his eyes, he told her it was the glint of his implants.

  Now she sat in the car with Clarrie, as the doctor drove, hoping like hell they didn’t pass Jeremy and he wouldn’t see her. He’d be looking for her still, and where better to start than a hospital?

  The road the doctor had taken out of town was winding, and the sides of the road were dotted with large bushes. The sky darkened as they drove. He turned on the lights, and she watched as the light broke through the gloom.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The institute has an agreement with a small, private hospital up in the hills. It’s where they took me after my accident. That’s where I received my treatment. I stayed there until I transferred to a specialist halfway house.”

  She grunted.

  “When they did this to you, where did they take you? It wasn’t this hospital.”

  She knew he was fishing for information, but she’d hedge her bets, not let him know who and where until she was sure of her safety. As it was, she’d only agreed because of her weakness.

  Clarissa considered his question, then answered. “I don’t know where I was. It was near a cliff, but a long way from home. A long way from here. It took a while to find my way here. I hitchhiked after I’d hidden for a couple of weeks. I couldn’t… If I’d gone home, he would have found me. As it was, when I got there, he was in the house with my parents. I realized they thought I was dead, and it seemed best to let them continue thinking that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they were so worried and Je… He knew them. I’d been dating him.”

  She glanced out the window, hoping to shutdown the conversation. It hurt too much to consider just how gullible she’d been. Jeremy used her. Abused her.

  “Okay, so then you headed to town?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not from around here. I made my way here after I realized that even if I wanted to go home, it wouldn’t be safe. Without money, identification, or clothes, there wasn’t much choice really. So, I found a location where I could hide out. Then Clarrie turned up on the doorstep, so to speak.”

  “Judging by the way you talk, you’re well-educated. Where?”

  She swallowed. “St. Gertrude’s, then later on Halmut School for Nannies.”

  “Really? I know some people…”

  She shifted in her seat, deathly afraid that she’d made yet another wrong decision, just one more of so many, and she cursed her loose tongue.

  “This friend of yours, she’s good?”

  “Sara’s great. Known her since med school.” His tone told her he thought more of her than just as a friend though.

  “You’re involved?”

  “What?” He laughed off her words. “No. I might have considered it a long time ago, but I realized she and I are too different. She’s married to her career. Don’t get me wrong. She’s a great girl, but I discovered I wanted a family. At least until this.” He sighed, and Clarissa found herself fascinated.

  “Why ‘until this’? I mean, it’s not like you can’t do things like reproduce.” The words emerged like a croak from her throat, but he seemed so sad and lost for a moment that she couldn’t help the emotions that welled.

  “They were unsure that… Hang on, how do you know that?”

  She blinked at the memories. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about it, okay? Actually, I think I might have a sleep now.”

  She turned on her side and closed her eyes, but the reality and memories kept pounding at her. The things they’d done. The experiments.

  * * * *

  Michael drove, hands clutching at the steering wheel, white and death-grip like. She knew things, had been the subject of experiments, and it left him sickened.

  They’d learned nothing since the onset of the Human Production Bill of 2140. All experimentation like that on human subjects was strictly forbidden, and Sara’s work, while accepted generally in medical circles, still warred for wider support in the public theatre.

  Whatever they’ve done to Lissa, they will have to pay for it, he thought. He’d talk to Sara, find out who else was working in this area, then he�
�d call in favors he’d never expected to use.

  The ride continued in silence, Clarrie frowning as he sat in the seat beside Michael. Every now and again, Michael would check the rearview mirror, see that Lissa remained still, but his awareness of her told him she wasn’t asleep, just ignoring him.

  That was okay, because likely before he’d brought whoever had done this to her to justice, she’d probably hate him. He’d need to know it all, find Jonah and Franklin and enlist their help. His buddies had served with him in the GMC—General Medical Corps—during the war of 2142.

  Now he’d call in those favors. Six years wasn’t too long to wait. It was just right, and he knew exactly what he needed them to do.

  They’d bring the animal that caused all this to justice. They had to.

  The gates loomed, and he slowed, pulled up to the security gates, and waited for the guard to reach his side of the vehicle. He dropped the window and flashed his ID. “Dr. Sara Windhower is expecting me and two patients.”

  The guard checked his hand-held device and nodded. “Head on up to the main building. You’ll be met at the door.”

  Michael drove the vehicle slowly, creeping up the long driveway, until they reached the parking area for the main hospital building and waited as Lissa sat up in her seat. “We’re here?”

  “Yeah. So come on, and Clarrie too. The sooner we get Clarrie settled and into the system, the sooner we can start sorting out what needs to be done for you.”

  She grimaced and unclicked her safety belt. “Fine. But if he finds me, it’s on your head.” He winced at the resigned tone.

  With her ungracious comment ringing loudly, she opened the door and stepped out of the car.

  “Girl has a lot of demons, doc. Give her time. She’ll come good. She’s better than what you’re seeing right now. She’s got a good heart.”

  It was exactly what he thought as they climbed from the vehicle. He avoided any thoughts of the emotions that welled in him every time he looked at her and considered what had happened. If he gave in to that, he’d probably be on the floor throwing a screaming tantrum. That wouldn’t help anyone.

  Instead, he indicated to the doorway and ushered the two of them forward, hoping he’d made the right decision all around.