by wade coleman
I take the sim card out of my phone and place it with the rest. “According to the manifest, the vaccine is being shipped to cities along the west coast.”
Daniel gathers the sim cards, puts them in a microwave and turns it on. “By mid-morning, we’ll be distributing the vaccine.”
He gets out his phone and punches in a number. “I’ll finish up here. You two go home.”
We start to walk out before he calls us back. “Hermes?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“You two did good…real good.”
I nod, a faint smile appearing on my face, I can’t remember the last time Daniel complimented me.
Kim and I walk outside, get on our bikes and head for home.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I get a call around noon from the hospital. My new eyes are in, very exciting. Taking a leisurely ride, I head south on 80 and then get on the San Pablo bay highway that leads to the Navy base. The base was built near the old city of Petaluma. The Army Corp dredged the inlet and built a port a few years after the Bio-Wars.
It feels good just to ride and not think about anything, just watch the surf breaking and enjoying the breeze on a hot day. In thirty minutes, I pass the Recycling Center and the road to the Boneyards.
Another forty minutes and I pull up to the base’s main gate. Security checks my ID and takes my thumbprint. The guard points to the hospital. I drive to the facility, park under a tree with plenty of shade and walk through the front door. A woman in green scrubs and a beehive of red hair walks up to me, and I show a little too much excitement on seeing her.
“Hey! I remember you.”
She smiles and chuckles softly. “If that’s the case…what’s my name?”
I look at her face, the pile of red hair, ears that stick out. I dismiss my first name, Rapunzel, and ask Natasha’s help instead. Her memory was unaffected by the meds, and I can get the information quickly.
“Pam. We went to breakfast, and you pumped me for information while I was under the influence of many, many drugs. Those were good times.”
“That’s right; you have an implant,” she blushes. “Come on.” She leads me to the elevator. Getting off on the fifth floor, she shows me the bathroom. After undressing, I put on a hospital gown and a pair of socks. Pam escorts me to a gurney, and I lay down and get as comfortable as possible while she sets up an IV in my right arm. She gets out a syringe, adding meds to the drip line.
“Yeah, this feels familiar.” The drugs make me feel like I’m in a lucid dream.
Pam unlocks the wheels on the gurney and pushes. Moving forward, I watch the lights move by on the ceiling.
“Your new eyes can defeat scanners. I am sure this will make you a better thief.”
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
She laughs, punches a button, and the door opens. Pam wheels me in. A man helps me off the gurney and onto the operating table. A woman sits at a terminal with three screens. Above my head is a pole with a metal arm attached. At the end of the appendage is an instrument that looks like an ice-cream scoop. Good thing I’m drugged, otherwise I might piss my pants, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
The woman walks up wearing a mask. “I’m Dr. West, your surgeon. Today you’re getting new eyes, but you already know that. Computer, inject the Fentanyl and prep the patient for surgery.”
* * *
I’m sitting at a table at Rick’s, and a woman sits down next me. Her red dress is in stark contrast to the black and white of the scene.
“The eyes are the window to the soul,” she says. “What have you done to yours?”
“I needed new eyes to open doors.”
She drinks a martini. “It may have opened one door, but another is closing. The more of yourself you trade away, the harder it is to reach you. Choose your next move carefully, carefully, carefully.”
* * *
My eyes are bandaged. Natasha says I’ve been asleep for three days. A door opens, and someone walks in.
“Hermes?”
I recognize her voice. ““Pam. Why was I out so long?”
“The doctor will answer your questions.”
The tone of her voice confirms my fears: my implant is still growing.
The door opens, and someone else enters.
“Hermes, let’s see how things look,” Doctor West says. Her voice has the same even tone it did when I met her, which to me seems no more than five minutes ago.
The doctor begins to unwrap the bandages. “Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.” She shines a light on my eyelids. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
“You can open your eyes now.”
Pam is by the door, throwing away bandages, the room dimly lit. The doctor sits on a stool next to me, jet black hair with bangs just above her eyebrows. Dr. West performs a series of tests on my eyes and nods approvingly.
“Everything looks good. Your vision is now 20/10, which means you can see at twenty feet what most people can only see at ten. And your night vision is twice human normal, “Nurse, would you excuse us for a minute?” Pam leaves the room.
She looks at my chart and then at me. “I’ll be honest, Hermes…something has gone wrong with your upgrade. Bio-implants were made to mimic human nerve cells, the ones that transmit signals between the body and the brain. They were made with commands in place like: don’t leave the brain, don’t grow bigger than this, only connect to these nerves. Very simple instructions.”
She puts down her tablet and picks up a clipboard. “The fail-safes somehow got turned off in your upgrade. They’ve sending branches down your spine. We kept you in a coma to find a way to stop it.”
My mind starts to wander. I wanted to travel Europe after college, starting in London and taking the underground to France.
She taps on the clipboard. “The new cells have replaced the primitive part of the brain that controls breathing and heartbeat. We can’t kill these cells without killing you.”
In France, I meet the girl of my dreams, and we spend the summer traveling south on a train.
She looks down at the clipboard and then at me again. “It’s spreading fast. In the last three days, it’s left your spine and is following the major nerve paths to your arms and legs.”
We eventually end up in Egypt, where I use my special skills to break into the great pyramid and do some exploring. Now, I’m twenty-five years old; now I’ll never see twenty-six.
She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Hermes, are you listening?”
“Am I going to be a puppet in my own body?”
“I don’t know. Right now, nanites are following nerve tissue, but it might go rogue and spread out into your organs and muscles.”
“How long before control breaks down?”
“Anytime. The nerves of your hands are being replaced. That will give you an idea what to expect.”
She hands me a clipboard. “This document says you will donate your body to this facility.”
“Who knows about my condition?”
“Just my staff.”
“This stays between your staff and me until I’m dead. Agreed?”
She nods. I sign the document and hand her the clipboard. After she leaves, I put on my clothes. Walking down a hall in a daze, I notice Pam is at a nurse’s station taking a call. She smiles when I pass.
I turn around and look at her. She’s got a mic in her ear, talking to someone while she taps on a screen, her hair still a red beehive.
When she gets off the phone, I walk up to her. “I’m going to get something to eat in the cafeteria. Can you come?”
She looks at a black man in scrubs, and he nods.
“Let me finish my rounds, and I’ll see you in half an hour.”
Finding a place by the window, I sit down with a tray of food, the lunch crowd thinning out. I try to eat slowly, but I’m so hungry it’s almost torture not to shovel it in. Soon, my belly is full, and I feel more human. Bussing
my tray, I get a cup of coffee made from seaweed. I watch the waves roll in on the beach while people walk along the shore.
“What’s so funny?” Pam sits down with a cup of coffee and a chocolate brownie.
“Is that real chocolate?” I am beginning to salivate. Most of the coca is grown in Colombia where there is a war going, so the supply is very limited.
“I got it from home. I’ll give you half if you tell me why you’re smiling.”
“I make up stories about people when they pass by, See that old man with a bad leg?”
She nods and cuts the brownie in half with a plastic fork.
“He got that limp working the cross-dressing nightclub circuit when a fan tried to run him over for his shoes. Apparently, they wear the same size.”
She smiles, puts half the brownie on a napkin and passes it to me. “You have an active imagination.”
I fill up my coffee, sit back down and savor the chocolate brownie.
Our eyes meet. “You know what’s going on with me?”
She cuts her dessert with a fork and takes a bite. “Yes.”
“I don’t have time to play games. I’m interested in you, and I want to get to know you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Ah…” I can’t think of anything except for her hair with the copper strands so thick; you could floss with them.
Waiting for my question, Pam raises an eyebrow.
“How long is your hair?”
“It’s past my waist. It has been genetically engineered to be long, thick and curly.”
“Wow, does it form ringlets?”
“My turn to ask a question. What are the games you play with women?”
I take a bite of bitter chocolate and chase it with the coffee, which has been sitting in the pot for far too long. “Normally, I’m attracted to women who are out of my league or have no interest in me.”
She laughs.
“What?”
“You don’t think I’m out of your league, a seventh-generation Pureblood Navy officer?” She points to her insignia on her scrub shift, indicating she’s a captain.
I look at her, wondering if she’s trying to act offended.
“No, I never got that vibe from you.”
She smiles, turning her head to hide her blush, her freckles standing out on her cheeks.
“My turn to ask a question. I know this is personal, but…was anything else genetically engineered?”
“Yes.” She turns back, looks me in the eye. “I was picked out of dozens of embryos because I was the closest match to my grandmother.” Pam studies my face, looking for a response. “My genes were altered to enhance memory, language, lifespan, and fertility.”
I blow it by twitching when she says, ‘fertility.'
She leans in on one elbow, and I do the same. Whispering in my ear, “My eggs are highly desirable.”
I cough coffee for a few minutes, sit back up, horrified at the thought of parenthood. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” I say while blushing.
Pam enjoys watching me squirm in my chair. Her eyebrows dance playfully. “Does a woman’s body make you uncomfortable?”
I open my mouth and close it a few times, then speak: “That’s a trick question. If I say ‘No,’ then you’ll ask me why I’m blushing. If I say yes, then I’m doomed before we start. Ask me something else.”
She taps her index finger on the table a few times. “Why do you sabotage relationships?”
I open my mouth again, but nothing comes out. I sip coffee and try to form my thoughts. “I have a secret. I’m working on trusting…”
Pam interrupts: “Is this about why your skin is so cold at night?”
I nod.
“I’m sorry I interrupted, you were saying you’re working on trust issues?”
Again I nod, feeling like a child in front of her, naked and raw in spots from road rash.
She is looking at me curiously. “And this change of heart…is a woman involved?”
I let out a deep breath and look towards the sea.
Pam studies my face. “I take it you’re no longer a couple.”
A Roberta Flack song, Killing Me Softly, comes to mind, and I smile.
“How do you do it…look so profoundly sad one moment and smiling at some private joke the next?”
Since I have absolutely nothing to lose, I give her an honest answer. “I get in a mood and a song plays in my head. I have no control over the playlist.”
“Which song?”
I sing to her. “Strumming my pain with her fingers, singing my life with her words, killing me softly…” I sing to Pam on key with Natasha’s help.
Pam laughs and snorts loudly, then turns red with embarrassment. Then I laugh, and we sit there cackling for a while until we manage to compose ourselves.
“I have off the scales song memory,” Pam says. “I hear a tune once and I can write the music.”
“I have this connection with music,” I say. “So that’s kind of sexy.”
Pam blush again, and then takes a compact mirror out of her purse, checking her lipstick.
“I’d like to do it again when we both have more time, and maybe I won’t embarrass myself so much.”
We stand up.
“You are impertinent and forward, but I can overlook it, considering the circumstances.”
She gets a pen and paper out of her purse. “Write your personal information down, and I will get back to you once I’ve done my research on you.”
“Research? There’s a lot of strange stories circulating around. Its just gossip and circumstantial evidence.”
“What’s your hometown? Let me guess. Army brat from Ceres?”
Before she wrangles any more information out of me, we walk to the door.
“I gotta go back to work,” Pam says.
I walk backward and say, “See you on the other side.”
“See, that expression is from Ceres.”
Showing off, I step down and keep walking backward down the six steps. Pam leaves by the third step, but I keep walking backward for practice. I find my bike and take a leisurely ride home. With everything that’s happened, I’m in a pretty good mood. I arrive home late afternoon. Dad is in his shop.
“How did it go?”
I sit in my swivel chair. “The news eyes are a little better than a normal human vision. What they're good at is fooling scanners.”
“Let me see them.” he looks at me closely. “I can’t tell any difference.”
“You shouldn’t, the default setting is my original eyes.”
“How about I make lunch while you fill me in on the details?”
We head to the kitchen and Dad gets out meat and tomatoes and starts cutting.
I lean against the counter. “An iris scan takes a picture of your eye. It maps the different spots and streaks like a fingerprint. My new eyes can change to match other peoples’. All I need is a picture of an iris and Natasha can copy it.”
He gets out the bread, spreads mayonnaise on one side and mustard on the other. “That should come in handy.” He puts the sandwiches together while I pour tea.
Sitting down to eat, Daniel asks. “What about that problem with your implant?”
I take a bite of my sandwich and chew, giving myself time to think. After swallowing, I say, “It’s taking over my nervous system. My hands will be the first to go.”
Daniel bites into his sandwich, chews on the food and information at the same time. “Son, when you’re in a situation where things are out of control, it’s best to focus on what you can control.”
I take a bite of my sandwich while Dad finishes his. He takes a swig of tea to wash it down. “You have to set priorities, find out what’s important and what isn’t. If you're gonna die, then die well.”
Thanks for the pep-talk, Pop, I think. We finish our meal in silence. Afterward, I pick up the plates and refill the tea glasses from the pitcher.
Daniel stands up. “Let’s g
o onto the front porch, and I’ll catch you up on what’s been going on.”
Walking outside, we sit in our rocking chairs. I put my feet up on a small plastic table.
Dad puts his feet up on the railing and looks out over the yard as he speaks. “In the last few days, we inoculated five thousand people with the vaccine. The vaccine boxes have shipping labels. Its point of origin is a property owned by Baron Enterprises.”
I sip my tea.
“The Navy Times printed an article about the virus and vaccine. The Baron has officially denied any involvement.”
“It’s not official until the public denial,” I say.
Daniel smirks. “The Baron said the article was a hoax to lower their stock price for a coming merger.”
Putting down my glass, I say, “Let me guess…the merger is with Blue Algae Inc.”
“It’s spooky…all the connections. How is it that you always stumble into a pile of tangled shit, Hermes?”
A bolt of lightning hits the top of my skull. I take a deep breath, and a sick feeling comes over me as if I can feel the blood draining out of my face, and it suddenly dawns on me…they’re going to use the Learjet to spread the virus.
“Hermes, what’s wrong?” Daniel looks worried.
I stand, lean over the railing, my hands trembling. “Natasha, it’s okay, just concentrate on the breath.”
My dad grabs my shoulder. “Hermes! What’s wrong?”
“I’m having a seizure, but it’s passing.”
I get up and walk around, shaking off the electricity crawling through my skin.
“Natasha is hardwired into the primitive part of my brain. The part that experiences anger and fear.” I sit back down and take a deep breath. “This was the first-time Natasha’s experienced my fear, I think.”
“What scared you?”
“Without meds, the death toll for the new virus is ninety percent, so you need to introduce a virus fast to overwhelm the healthcare system.” I pause, take a deep breath and continue: “They’re going to use the jet to disperse the plague. Instead of spraying crops to kill insects, they’ll spray the city to kill mutants, like we’re a pest to exterminate.”