Defragmenting Daniel: The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by Jason Werbeloff

  Kage stretched a trembling hand toward Hal. “Help me,” he rasped.

  Hal smiled her warmest android smile. “Come inside, dearies.”

  Daniel slammed Kage down on the operating table, harder than intended. The Detective groaned. Tried unsuccessfully to lift his head.

  “Shall we begin?” asked Hal.

  Daniel panted. “Yes … yes, start.”

  Hal placed a gas mask over Kage’s face. “Don’t struggle, deary. Aaah … see, that’s better.” She removed the mask when the Detective stopped twitching.

  Kage was out cold.

  Daniel undressed the man, while Hal wheeled out a tray of almost-gleaming instruments. At least she’d made an effort to clean them.

  Daniel removed the jar from the jacket. Handed his face to Hal. “For later,” he said.

  She placed the container on her instrument tray. Raised a scalpel to the light. Tested its edge on her silicone thumb. She glanced down at Kage. “Well, he’s in for a surprise when he wakes up.” She made a grating noise Daniel assumed was a proxy for a chuckle.

  He undressed. Lay back on the second, wooden, table. He propped his glasses on the wall as he had before, and projected a 3D holographic image of the birds-eye view of his body up into the air above him.

  Hal began to lower the gas mask onto his face, but he waved it away. “Not for me,” he said.

  “Silly child.” The android rifled through the cupboard. Brought out a handful of anesthetic vials. “This time it’s going to hurt, no matter how much epidural I give you.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said.

  This would be the first and only time he’d see his parts unified. The first time, at least, since the organ harvesting had started when he was nine years old. Right here, in this filthy operating room, everything for which he’d fought so hard would come together. He’d sacrificed his relationship with Hooplah. Daggy Munch had lost her skin for this. Lincoln Russell had died for this. Ben and Bob Stanton. All of them had suffered for this moment.

  He wasn’t about to sleep through it.

  “Suit yourself, deary,”

  Hal’s scalpel ran a delicate line down the length of Kage’s chest. Down his abdomen. She branched the cut at his groins, first down his right leg, then down his left. She walked back to his head, the scalpel dripping as she moved. She extended the incision up his throat, under his chin, and around to the back of his neck.

  “Now let’s see what’s inside,” said Hal, and peeled Kage open like a ripe avocado.

  Hal hummed as she worked.

  Once she’d prepared Kage’s body, her scalpel hovered over Daniel’s leg. “Would you like me to give him the whole leg? Or just the bones? The muscles? Ligaments? And what about the cartilage?”

  Daniel had thought about this as he’d watched Hal flay Kage’s body. Under his skin, Kage was a different creature. Muscles and ligaments bunched and stretched. Veins sighed. Arteries bulged.

  It was painful to watch. But impossible not to. Like witnessing a hovercrash about to happen. Or a murder.

  “Deary, the whole leg or just some of its parts?” prompted Hal.

  The epidural seemed to have slowed everything down. As though his senses were out of sync with reality.

  “Give him the bones and muscles. He can keep his ligaments and cartilage.”

  The solution Daniel had thought up, the answer to his quest, the answer Hal had gotten so excited about, was that to become whole again, he needed all his parts in the same place. But he didn’t need all those parts inside him. His parts were not who he was. So why should they be inside him, when they could equally well be together, whole, inside someone else?

  And who better than in Kage Jackson, so desperately trying to become a man?

  Hal dug into Daniel’s left leg. He felt the bone saw and the scalpel only as an insistent pressure that vibrated through his body, up to his face. With all the anesthetic Hal had pumped into him, he only felt sensation above his chin. But the little he did feel, hurt. The oxygen tube she’d thrust down his throat shuddered as the ventilator whooshed air in and out of him.

  Hal separated Daniel’s femur from his hip with deceptive ease. Like Margaret, Hal’s titanium skeleton was powered by formidable hydraulics.

  Daniel had to ask himself just which of his parts really mattered. And he realized it wasn’t all of them. It wasn’t his veins, arteries, or ligaments. What mattered were his vital organs. And his bones. His muscles. His skin.

  “There we are!” Hal held up Daniel’s tibia. Lazy slabs of muscle drooped from the bone.

  Roger’s head perked up at the sight. Drool drip-drip-dripped on the filthy floor. The urine-crusted creature probably thought Hal wanted to play fetch with him.

  Thankfully, she didn’t.

  She laid the bone aside Kage’s unconscious, unsheathed body – out of the dog’s reach – and went to work extracting Kage’s femur. She made it look easy, tearing off Kage’s ligaments. The fan on the top of her head whirred as she held Kage’s bone up to the light. “All Hal’s.” The plate in her abdomen vibrated.

  “Yes.” Daniel sighed, as well he could on life support. “All his parts you replace with mine are yours to keep.”

  Insofar as an android could be said to look delighted, Hal looked delighted. Then she went to work, implanting Daniel’s femur where Kage’s femur had been.

  Daniel examined the holographic representation of his body floating above the operating table. Other than his left leg, which was a mess of blood and bones, the rest of him was untouched.

  He imagined taking a deep breath – he had to imagine it, since all the inhalations on life support were the same depth.

  He readied himself. There was plenty left of him to give away.

  *

  Heart. Lungs. Liver. Stomach. Intestines. Penis.

  Hal pillaged Daniel’s body one organ at a time, attaching the requisite life support tubes to the severed arteries and veins and bronchi dangling from his neck. A few hours later, Kage’s organs had been tossed into a pile that Roger eyed hungrily, and Daniel’s organs had been methodically lowered into and connected to Kage’s body with smart tubes and ligament connection gel. Hal was particularly excited about accruing Kage’s penis – Kage would have to make do with Daniel’s.

  Right leg. Left arm. Right arm.

  Should he have given Kage his entire body, as it had been? If so, he might as well have asked Hal to swap his head with Kage’s. But that solution hadn’t felt right. Yes, all of Daniel’s parts would be together, would be whole, but Kage’s body would simply be replaced. When Kage woke up, the man’s body wouldn’t be Kage’s body. Kage’s head would be on Daniel’s body. But Daniel had promised Hooplah he wouldn’t harm Kage. At the very least, Kage deserved his own body.

  So Daniel had decided that Kage could keep his own veins and arteries. His ligaments. His fat. Kage would be the glue that held Daniel’s parts together. That’s why Kage’s body, when this was all done, would still be Kage’s body, even though it contained all the parts of Daniel that mattered – Daniel’s organs.

  The operation was almost done now. Daniel watched the hologram above his head. Below his chin, his body looked like an empty tracksuit jacket. Loose flesh lolloped against the wooden table, swimming in a thick layer of coagulated blood. The blood had overflowed the tabletop long ago, and formed a growing pool on the tiled floor. Roger had tired of slipping and sliding his way through the puddle after about an hour into the operation. The glasses’ camera could just make out the edge of the dog’s sleeping form in the corner of the room. It lay in a contented blood-clumped heap, snoring.

  Spinal column.

  That took some time.

  Krrrch … Krrrch.

  Hal was quick enough chopping out Daniel’s vertebrae, seeing as there was no need to preserve his spinal cord – Kage had his own perfectly good cord. But removing Kage’s vertebrae, then clicking and connecting Daniel’s vertebrae around Kage’s cord … well that took almost
as long as transplanting all the vital organs combined.

  By the time Hal was done, her knee and arm servos were grinding more than usual. With the entire vivisection of Daniel’s body, and the peeled state of Kage’s, there was so much blood splashed around the operating theatre, it was becoming difficult to discern the primary-colored walls. The metallic sheen of Hal’s titanium arms had long since disappeared under layers of gore. “It’s time for the onesie,” she sang with nauseating cheer.

  Daniel watched the holographic image of his body. Strange. Hal had removed his stomach, but he still felt nauseous. Or he thought he did. He tried to focus on the sensation, but the moment he did, it disappeared. Huh. Phantom nausea.

  Hal scooped out the remaining ligaments and fat and veins and arteries still lying inside Daniel’s almost-empty sack of skin. She snipped off the whole bundle at the neck, and flung it over to Kage’s operating table. Ten minutes later, and Kage had a new skin. White. Below the neck at least.

  Hal rested a tacky hand on Daniel’s cheek. All he was now was a head. “Deary, it might be best you take the general anesthetic. I’ll need your brain next.”

  They’d discussed this before Hal had started the operation. Daniel had to make a call on how much of his brain he was going to keep, and how much would go to Kage. In the end, Daniel decided he wanted only the memory center of his brain left intact. What made Daniel himself, were his memories.

  “No general anesthetic,” he said. “Numb me.”

  Hal sighed, but did as requested.

  Once Daniel couldn’t feel his cheeks, she raised the bone saw, and cut.

  Daniel’s brain had been diced before, by the surgeon at the Orphanage. But that operation had felt entirely different. They’d removed his amygdala through a hole in his skull the size of a pre-Bubble quarter.

  Hal didn’t bother with holes.

  The android peeled off his face complete with all his hair. Then sawed his skull open all the way around, from his fringe hairline to the back of his head. Blood and cerebrospinal fluid splattered the ceiling.

  Hal reached into his skull, and snipped off bits of him, pruning his brain away until all that remained was his left and right cerebra, with the corpus callosum stretched between them. All that he had now were his memories and his thoughts. She tossed his cerebellum and brain stem onto Kage’s operating table for later. They landed with a wet thlunk. Roger was too tired to notice.

  So far, Daniel had been able to watch the operation on the hologram above the table.

  Until now.

  “Close your eyes, deary,” said Hal, raising the bone saw.

  She divided his skull down the middle, between his eyes and along the ridge of his nose. That much he could feel as a faraway pressure against his bones.

  “Uhuh, we really ought to get this brain out of –”

  The world cut to perfect silence, and at the same time, his eyes opened. But that wasn’t quite right. Not opened exactly. The eyelids covering his corneas had been peeled away.

  The room rotated around him. Split and morphed. He was looking at the ceiling, the far wall (hints of green behind the blood splatter), floor tiles, Roger in the corner, tubes connected to his cerebrum. He was seeing different parts of the room with each eye. He was moving. Yes, that was it, his brain was being carried off the table. And his eyes … his eyes must have been dangling from his brain. He couldn’t hear anything because … Yes, there on the wooden table were the remains of his skull, and attached, his ears.

  Daniel waited patiently, trying not to succumb to the vertigo caused by his dangling eyes. His brain wanted to blink. But that had become impossible in the absence of eyelids. So he watched. And waited.

  Hal carried him to the other side of the room, near the metal cupboard where she stored her android parts. Beside the cupboard was a shelf. And on it, he could make out a … container? A tank.

  The room distorted. Bubbled around him. Shivered and swayed. And then it settled. He realized what was happening.

  He’d been submerged. He was a brain, floating in a vat of nutrients.

  Daniel’s left eyeball lay against the bottom of the tank. All he could see through that eye was a hazy mash of what might have been gravel. But the other eye was conveniently jammed against the glass, offering him a view of the room.

  Hal went to work on Kage now. She sawed open his head. Implanted Daniel’s brain stem and cerebellum. Then closed him up, and unscrewed the jar. It didn’t take her long to chisel away at Kage’s cheeks and chin, then staple on Daniel’s face – his original face. She wrapped the rest of Daniel’s skin and hair around Kage’s head, and … there he was, lying on the operating table. Kage looked just like Daniel had, before he’d left the Gutter.

  If Daniel had a mouth, he would have smiled. His parts. His parts were complete. Together.

  Except … his eyes.

  Hal lumbered over to the tank – even androids tired, it seemed. She reached inside with a gleaming blade.

  Daniel’s world went dark.

  Kages and Cages

  Kage gasped.

  Serrated nails scored his chest. His lungs. They ripped through his stomach. Pokers scorched his groin. His fingertips blazed the might of a thousand Bubble suns.

  Agony.

  Everywhere.

  He opened his mouth and with a tongue that felt thicker, creamier than he remembered, he screamed.

  “Hold him down!” shouted someone.

  He ramped up the shriek. Allowed the note to sear his vocal cords. Stretched them to an oscillating fury.

  “Double the fentanyl. Triple it if ya havta.”

  “He doesn’t deserve the good stuff. The fucker.”

  “Sarge, the warden won’t be none too happy if he carries on yellin’ like this.”

  Kage paused to inhale. Veins in his forehead burst. His eyes bulged fiery trails of crushed glass.

  A prick in his arm, barely discernible through the billion-watt pit of pain. He let out another wail. Louder this time, if that was possible. His eardrums popped.

  But he never finished that breath. The fentanyl wrapped around him. Squeezed.

  The screech in his throat faded to a squawk. To a squeal. And then, to nothing.

  *

  “… slow-like. We don’t want a repeat of last time. See, I think he’s coming to.”

  Kage stared up at a wan face. As his pupils focused, hair follicles smushed together to form a scraggly beard.

  “Now I’m going to take this rag out your mouth if you promise to be good now, ya’hear?”

  Kage blinked. His eyes were sandpits. Too large in his head.

  He nodded, and his tongue felt freer. He swallowed. Sloshed his tongue about under his palate. Swallowed again.

  “Whe … am I?”

  A second face appeared in view. Strong jaw. Hairy nostrils. “You been sleepin’ a mighty long time. The pain a bit better now son?”

  Kage nodded. Flexed his fingers. Tried to move his arms, but they’d been tied down.

  “Don’t talk to him, Gilbert. He ain’t worth our time.”

  “Alright, Sarge.”

  “Gilbert, you find that TV remote?”

  “Yes, Sarge.”

  “Switch it to the memorial service. Let the fucker watch what he did.”

  Kage tried to raise his head, but his abdominals protested. He couldn’t find any leverage with arms restrained.

  A tinny voice pierced the antiseptic air. “… gather here today to pay tribute to a great man. He was …”

  Kage recognized that voice. He craned his neck best he could. Glanced side-long at an old-fashioned TV on the far wall. The box was ensconced behind rusted iron bars.

  “… who broke barriers. His progressive spirit was the spirit of every one of us. He grew from humble beginnings, and found a home in our glorious Bubble.”

  The man on the television shifted from one foot to the other, and his head popped out behind one of the rusted bars. Yes, Kage knew that voice. Mayor
Donald Russell.

  “… proud to say that I met Detective Jackson once. He was the man who brought my late brother’s killer to justice.” The Mayor paused, apparently overcome with emotion. Was that a tear running down his cheek? It wouldn’t surprise Kage if the Mayor had a bag-full of onions under the podium.

  “Kage Jackson was a man I was proud to know. And I say to all of you …” The Mayor glared resolutely into the camera. “… you too should be proud to have shared this Bubble with Kage Jackson.”

  Donald Russell raised his hand to his breast. “Kage Jackson was the embodiment of everything good in the Bubble. Today I say, we are all Kage Jackson. Today, I …” He paused. Wiped a tear with a deliberate finger. “… I am Kage Jackson.”

  The camera panned out, and swung to face throngs of people gathered in an ornate hall. Stained glass windows framed the solemn crowd. “I am Kage Jackson,” they pronounced, all as one.

  Gilbert juxtaposed himself between Kage and the television. “Why d’ya do it, Daniel?”

  Kage’s lips flapped, gathering momentum, but he couldn’t find anything to say at first. “I’m not Daniel,” he blurted. “There’s been some sort of mistake. My name is Kage Jackson.”

  A knuckled hand slapped his face. His nose cracked.

  “You don’t get to use his name!” growled Sarge. “I’m done with this Organ Fucker. I’ll be doing rounds if you need me.” The Sergeant stalked off.

  Kage’s tongue found the wound on his lip. He tasted it.

  “Hold on a second. There.” Gilbert dabbed a gauze patch under Kage’s nose.

  The camera panned back to the podium. Teague Shoulders stood, in all his squareness, on the stage. “I knew the man,” he said in somber grief. “He was a good detective. I’m honored to have worked with Kass … I mean, Kage.” The shot switched to the crowd. Zoomed into a woman in a black veil. Zoomed further. She … that was Una. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Sobs shook her narrow frame.

  Teague Shoulders strolled off the podium, and was replaced by a monumental hovering woman. “He vas mine hero,” said Daggy Munch with a raised fist. “Za only man who could rival mine Strauss. If Strauss vas around to –”

  Kage raised his hand to place it on the guard’s forearm. To beg him to sort out this confusion. But Kage’s hand was cuffed to the side of the bed. “There’s been a mistake. I didn’t do whatever it is you think I did. I’m Kage Jackson. Private detective.”