Cyborg: Redux

by Imogene Nix

  Chapter 8

  Clarissa sat on the bed, waiting for Sara, the friend of Dr. Michael as he called himself. If she were brutally honest, she had no expectations that anything positive would happen. Only that Jeremy would find her. Before that happened, she’d have to make preparations. She wasn’t going to face torture again.

  The door opened, and a woman entered the room. Small and compact with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes, the sight made Clarissa feel even less comfortable with her surroundings and situation.

  “You’re Lissa?”

  The woman advanced toward her, and Clarissa nodded.

  “I’m Sara. Michael asked if I’d take a look at your scars and get some idea what the situation is with your treatment.”

  She moved forward, and Clarissa couldn’t help pulling back from the woman. The churn of fear ate at her belly. “That’s all?”

  “Yes. Why would I do anything else?” When her voice remained calm, Clarissa allowed herself a moment to settle her emotions. The woman seemed taken aback by Clarissa’s question, and Clarissa sighed.

  She’d seen exactly how some behaved given the opportunity to do wrong, but while she questioned this woman’s motives, she also knew there were few to no options.

  “Just because,” Clarissa muttered as she shrugged.

  The doctor frowned. “As a researcher and surgeon, I have signed the ‘No Harm’ oath. I won’t hurt you.”

  The spurt of disbelief erupted. “Sure.”

  “Lissa, if I were to know the name of the person who did this to you, who hurt you—”

  “You’d what? Protect me? Make it all better?” Cold fury warred with sarcasm in her voice, shooting like frozen barbs from her mouth. “You can’t. He’s too powerful. Has the ability to reach where I don’t think even you could stop him.”

  Sara growled. “You’d be amazed to know who we can call on. The lengths we can go to, ensuring we stop this person. Whoever they are, they aren’t beyond the reach of justice.”

  “You keep believing that, doc. So, are you going to start your examination, or shall I just wait to die?”

  The woman started, and a tiny hit of satisfaction filled Clarissa as Sara dragged her stethoscope from around her neck. “Shirt off and lean forward.”

  Clarissa complied. Nudity was something she’d come to terms with since Jeremy’s experimentation. Then she’d learned to escape within herself, to remove her mind from the reality of where she was, and into a place he couldn’t ever reach. The place where one man would hold her, love her, and ignore what she was. What had been done to her.

  Clarissa tugged off the old, stained jumper, revealing the holed t-shirt below.

  “That too.”

  Clarissa glanced at Sara who’d paled at the sight of her clothing. She shrugged the t-shirt off as well, her entire torso revealed to Sara who sucked in a deep breath.

  “Who did this to you?”

  “He was a doctor.” She glanced at Sara and watched as the horror dawned on her face at the sight of the knife marks and burn scars, healed but obvious in their jaggedness.

  “No. No doctor would do this. Only a butcher.” Sara held her hands to her mouth as if holding in nausea or shock.

  “He was. He did all this and allowed others to as well. You seem shocked. Why?” Clarissa leaned forward, well aware of the mass of scars that covered her body. The worst one though, that was hidden from view and in her mind.

  “Because we don’t harm those who need our care. Whoever he was, he mustn’t be allowed to get away with this. It’s one thing to slice through human flesh to save a life, but no one has the right to make someone else suffer as you clearly did.”

  Clarissa cocked her head. “You believe that?” Clearly, Sara had never come across the results of such experimentation, yet Clarissa knew it happened. She couldn’t explain the scarring of feeling so damned afraid and alone. “It’s not indicative of your reality though, is it?”

  “No, Lissa. It’s not reality. It might be what he made you believe, but it’s not how we, as researchers, think or act.”

  Clarissa shifted on the examination table. “Look, there were more than enough researchers who joined him. They did this as much as he did. There must have been at least a dozen others. You might get one, you might get two, but I doubt you’ll get them all.” Pressure built in her chest. “If you’re done, I want to get dressed.”

  “Not yet. I need some vision of these markings.”

  “No.” Now Clarissa tried to shuffle forward as if to stand, but Sara’s hand touched her. “Don’t touch me.” She scurried back.

  “I wasn’t going to—”

  “I said, don’t touch me.” Her voice rose, tight and panicked, and the door swung open.

  Michael strode inside the room. “What the…hell.” He stared at Clarissa, revulsion coloring his features. “I’ll kill him. Tell me who and—”

  Clarissa scooped up the old jumper and pressed it against her scarred chest, but it didn’t stop him. Michael came closer, advancing step by definite step.

  “Let me see,” he said.

  Her stomach quivered. “No.”

  “Please, Lissa. I want to help you.”

  Unlike her reaction to Sara, tears welled and she shook her head, suddenly lost for words. This strong man wanted to help her, but she couldn’t rely on him. If she let someone bolster her, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to withstand the assault of memories again.

  When he reached out, his hand curving over her shoulder, the warmth filled the iciness that had invaded her soul. Then she melted, leaned in as he slid his hands around her, hugging her close.

  She didn’t stop to think, to consider his actions. Instead, she welcomed his reassurance and support.

  “Michael. You can’t be in here.” Sara’s voice echoed in her mind, breaking the connection between the two of them, and while he only drew back an inch, she slammed back into place the barriers she’d erected around herself.

  Clarissa refused to meet his eyes, even though the burn of his gaze scorched her.

  “I’m not leaving, Sara. Not unless Lissa asks me to.”

  She opened her mouth, tried to tell him to leave, yet no sound escaped.

  “Lissa, do you want him to leave?” Sara prodded, and she couldn’t bring herself to shake her head, even though she knew it would mean Sara would eject him. “Fine then. Take the seat in the corner and don’t say a word.”

  * * * *

  Michael had never before felt the scouring of emotions he did now as he watched Sara check Lissa. So many questions warred with the fury. Who was responsible? Could he bring them to justice? Would Lissa ever trust someone again?

  None of them were answerable right now.

  The one thing he did know was that Lissa had been tortured, raped—whether physically or not, it was too soon to tell, based on the answers she was giving Sara, but physically abused.

  “Lissa, have you ever been pregnant? Carried a child?”

  Lissa paled and glanced away.

  Incandescent rage bloomed, but he controlled his anger with a fair degree of difficulty. He’d seen that look before and knew what it meant. They’d seen the victims of the war, those who’d been sexually abused.

  At the end of the examination, Michael felt like he’d been through the wringer, and that couldn’t even begin to describe how Lissa must have been feeling.

  “Michael, I can’t release her right now. She’s malnourished, her body requires a lot of work to build her up. I’m also not sure the nanotech injections she’d received were totally successful. I’ve got some other tests I want to run.”

  Lissa growled. “I’m not a test subject. Talk to me, not him.”

  Michael silently cheered her for the bravado, but knew it was tissue thin. “I’d have to agree. But if you admit her, I stay too.”

  “What? I thought you couldn’t wait to get away before?” Sara’s words teased him, yet he heard the underlying question: Is this woman important t
o you?

  It was a question he couldn’t answer. So, he didn’t. All he knew was if he left her here, she’d most likely be gone by the time he returned.

  He stayed close by, not speaking unless Lissa asked for his input, and watched her, amazed at the strength this fragile and damaged woman exuded. He’d seen the fear in her eyes when Sara initially stated she wanted to admit Lissa to the hospital, her muscles tensing until he suggested the halfway house where he’d continued his recovery on the far end of the grounds.

  The transfer took place in total silence, and it allowed him to think over and brood on what he’d learned. He’d need to make contact with his compatriots soon.

  Lissa hadn’t been happy until they’d arrived and she’d been able to inspect the room they assigned her. Once she was admitted, he requested the room he’d vacated months ago, thankful that this section of the hospital was so far removed from any other patient or treatment suites. Her room was next to his, and he’d shown her how close he was.

  “Where’s Clarrie?” Her voice husky from hours of questions and answers, fear and frustration, he surmised.

  “He’s going to need more advanced care. He’s at the main hospital, but you’ll be able to see him every day. I’ll take you up there. You can ring him too, but for now, he needs rest and care. So do you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

  Her dismissive attitude toward her own health raised his ire. “It’s more than that. There’s a problem with your transition. You need stabilizing care.”

  “How do you know so much, Michael? How did you know her?”

  He grinned at her waspish tone. “I’ve known her a long time, I told you that. We went to school together, then medical school. She went off and concentrated on her specialty while I became a surgeon. Since my accident, I’ve focused on general healthcare, like the clinic work.”

  Lissa frowned. “But if you’re a surgeon, what are you doing working at a free clinic in the middle of Nowheresville?”

  His laugh barked loud in the silence. “I couldn’t operate immediately after my therapy. Sara suggested I might be able to offer some kind of assistance. I was only going to fill in for a couple of weeks, but you know, there’s something about giving back.”

  “But you came here with us?”

  He smiled. “I did. You both needed me more than the clinic. There are other doctors there for the next week or two and I wasn’t going to be logged on, so I felt that this was the best use of my time.”

  “Fine, but since things are going so swimmingly, why haven’t you returned to surgery? Why waste your time in general practice?”

  That question was direct, and he had to pause and think seriously about it. “I want to, someday. But I’m not ready yet. The strange thing is, I never even really thought about it until you asked.” Every word he spoke was true. He wasn’t ready to investigate what it was about this woman that made him reconsider everything he knew and held dear.

  She wasn’t a beauty. Her prickly nature made her difficult to feel close to, and yet, she drew him like no other woman ever had. And this was only after less than two days. Alarm bells jangled in his brain.

  “I can’t answer all your questions right now, Lissa. All I can say is I felt it was important for me to be there and assist you and Clarrie. Now, let’s leave it at that, okay?”

  Suddenly, he needed distance between them, and he stood and stepped away from the bed where they’d settled her.

  “I’m going to get settled. You’ve got the remote for the vid screen, lunch will be here shortly, and you should be able to video call with Clarrie later today. I’ll be back soon.”

  She stilled, face pale but exuding a calm visage. “Sure. You go settle in.”

  For all her words, he knew she’d read his thoughts and was retreating. He sighed, reached out, but she held still.

  “Go on. I’ll be fine.”

  When he left her, it was as if he was retreating from her, and his stomach churned as he strode to his door.

  He’d chosen his action, now he needed to find a way to mitigate the damage he may have unsuspectingly inflicted with his retreat.

  * * * *

  Clarissa sighed and reclined against the pillows. She’d honestly believed she’d never be quite so comfortable again, yet here she was with a soft pillow, heavy warm blankets, and clean clothing she hadn’t stolen from someone else. She’d even managed to enjoy a brief sonic shower. Not as good as a water one, but she felt clean again. That rated highly in her books.

  Now she was stuck in a hospital, and that brought its own issues. She had no clue how she’d pay for the treatment, even though Michael had claimed he would attend to that. Health care sure didn’t come cheap and never was it truly free. Unless he… She ended that thought before it could form fully.

  If she’d had thoughts or questions about what Michael would have said, she ignored them. Instead, she tried to scrub any personal feelings from her mind. He was a doctor and only interested in her as a body. That could be the only reason he’d watched her, his eyes roaming over her body. There wasn’t any personal interest.

  She closed her eyes and forgot about her concerns for now. The fluids they were pumping into her veins, along with the antibiotics, must be quick acting. She sighed, turned, and plumped the pillows. A knock had her opening her eyes and watching the door as it opened slowly.

  Sara, the doctor, entered the room. “Good. I see they have you hooked up. I’ve asked them to place you on a light diet for now, and we’ll take a look tomorrow to see when you can eat fully. Mariah will be in soon with your tray. Do you have any questions?”

  Clarissa scanned the woman, surprised that she hadn’t tossed her from these hallowed halls. After all, she was a homeless itinerant.

  “Alyssa?”

  She scowled. “How do I know you can keep me safe like you said? After all, Jer—” Clarissa swallowed the name, but Sara leaned in and frowned.

  “Who?”

  Clarissa shook her head, but it was too late.

  “I heard Jer… So let me think who it could be. I only know of a few other researchers who have experience in this field. The only one I know of with the letter J is Jeremy. Jeremy Colvert, from the Colvert Clinic. But he specializes in prosthetic implementation, and has for years, along with in vitro fertilization. His interest in BioOrganic treatment is years old. And he’s not been practicing for… OhmyGod! It wasn’t him, was it?”

  Sara’s face took on a look of extreme panic and concern.

  “He’s been very quiet, and the small amount of research he’s published was based on beginning of life and efficacy of…” She looked nauseous, her skin taking on a slightly green tinge.

  Terror flooded Clarissa. Sara had worked out who Jeremy was, and if he caught wind of where Clarissa was hiding, there’d be no hole safe enough for her to hide in. Clarissa swung her legs over the side of the bed, even as Sara stepped up to stop her.

  “No, you can’t leave. We need to find out the truth.”

  Clarissa didn’t want her to find out the totality of how she’d been stripped bare of her humanity. To do so would render her little more than a quivering mass of nothing. She was done with being a victim and a shell.

  “Let me out of here.” She bit the words out, pushing against Sara who remonstrated with her.

  Clarissa tugged at the line snaking into her wrist while Sara hit a tiny button at the side of the bed.

  The door slid open, and two burly guards raced in. “You need help, doc?”

  “I need her back in the bed, then I need Dr. Michael Villede in the room next door. Get him, quickly.”

  Clarissa struggled, but the poor condition of her body and lack of nourishment made her easy to overcome. The guard had her hauled back on the gurney and was fastening her to the bed before she knew what was happening.

  “You gotta stay still, girlie. Don’t wanna hurt you. Please.” The guard looked at her, his face pleading, and she subsid
ed, realizing that as much as she was hurting him, she was also damaging herself.

  The door opened, and Michael surged inside the room. “What the hell is happening here?”

  Sara raised two hands, the symbol of peace, and he stopped, but it was clear how unhappy he was, vibrating with anger.

  “Thanks, Dave and Sol.”

  The guards looked at Sara, and at her nod they melted out of the room, leaving Sara, Michael, and Clarissa, still bound to the bed, behind.

  “I know who did this. I worked it out when Lissa said—”

  “Please don’t…” She reached out in entreaty.

  Sara continued, “Dr. Jeremy Colvert from the Colvert Clinic.”

  Michael spun and looked at Clarissa. “Jeremy Colvert? He did this to you?”

  Clarissa remained still, unwilling to answer.

  “He’s the only one I know whose name starts with J and has had any interest in BioOrganic Therapy,” Sara said firmly. “But if he has—”

  “It’s in breach of the ‘No Harm’ oath.” Michael headed to Clarissa, reached out and grabbed her hand. “He did the rest too, didn’t he?”

  Stubbornly silent, Clarissa simply watched him, noted the dark ring that circled his iris, the ruddy glow that settled on his cheeks, and the tick that had begun at his jaw.

  Yet even in the face of total fury, his touch remained tender, and that confused her further.

  * * * *

  Michael had to get a grip on himself. The extremes of his anger both surprised him and yet it wasn’t quite unexpected. He took his oaths seriously, and the ‘No Harm’ that replaced the archaic Hippocratic Oath was one he believed in.

  But worse of all was the knowledge that Lissa—and he still wondered what her real name was—had been tortured by someone whom he’d considered an expert in his area of therapy.

  “Lissa, he won’t get near you. I won’t allow it.”

  “Clarissa.” She mumbled the name, and he hovered closer.

  “What?”

  “My name is Clarissa. Lissa is a name I chose with Clarrie so Jeremy wouldn’t find me. But that’s a moot point now, isn’t it?” She gave a long sigh and glanced up at him, dusky eyelashes framing her eyes and drawing him in. “It’s easy to say he won’t find me here, but he’s got so many contacts. So many others who work with him. The minute he hears, he’ll know, so there’s no point hiding who I am now.”