“Describe the pain,” ordered the neurologist.
“It started behind the eye, shot through my skull like a kinetic round from an over and under forty-five rifle, and I see colors,” Diosa described. “Is that the camera?”
“No Master Sergeant. What you are experiencing is the first stimulation of your optic nerve by the neural interface,” the neurologist clarified. “The colors are your brain combining memories and input from your left eye to make sense of the stimuli.”
“So, I’m hallucinating?” ventured Diosa.
“Not really, it’s what we expected,” the ophthalmologist said. “Now we’re going to cover your left eye to cut off that input before removing the goggle. We need you to learn what the camera is showing you without pollution from your left eye.”
“Are you saying my left eye is polluted?” questioned Diosa. “It’s the only working one I have.”
“No, no, I didn’t mean…” then the ophthalmologist noticed the grin on Master Sergeant Alberich’s face. “Let me rephrase. We want to limit the input to the right eye so you can learn to interpret the information from the camera. Without help from your good eye. Does that make sense?”
“Uncap the gear, Doctor, and let’s go operational,” insisted Diosa as she lowered her right hand and ‘made a bring it on’ motion.
“Tell us what you see,” instructed the neurologist. He lifted the goggle and let the band hold the single dark lens against her forehead.
Clumps of hues shifted as she turned her head from one doctor to the other. Logically she figured it wasn’t the shapes moving but her eye focusing to the right and left.
“The room is as stark as a warship’s corridor. Except for tints of bright and dark spots,” Diosa reported. “And the shapes are blurred around the edges. It makes it hard to tell where one shade ends and another begins.”
“The natural eye has two types of photoreceptors, rods and cones,” instructed the ophthalmologist. “Rods see in low light and shades of gray. Your camera lacks rods. It does have cone like sensors. They are stimulated by light and perceive colors. Without the rods, you’re observing colors, even if your brain is having difficulty identifying them. Specific wavelengths of light reflect off objects and the cones respond. Without gray from rods, the colors blur around the edges. Especially darker colors with longer wavelengths where diffraction blurs the edges. Your left eye will help with definition but, for now, we need you to learn what the camera is sending to your brain. Clear?”
“It’s like an abstract painting with light and dark hues,” Diosa told the doctors. “As if the artist only had access to tones of paint.”
The neurologist held up a sign.
“The hue spells out yellow,” read Diosa. “That’s yellow?”
“Yellow because of the shorter wavelengths and its location in the visible spectrum is one of the easiest colors to see,” the neurologist said as he traced the yellow letters with his fingers. “Have you had enough for today?”
“No, sir. Bring on another color card,” begged Diosa. “Yellow. I’ll try to remember the color. What’s next?”
The neurologist held up another sign. Diosa smiled.
“I’m going to cheat,” she admitted reaching out and tracing the three letters. “It has to be red. Although it’s blurry.”
“Each color in the visible spectrum has a different wavelength,” the ophthalmologist pointed out. “Once your brain begins to recognize the pigments sent from the camera, you’ll see in color and, the plan is, you’ll see different hues of each color.”
“Ready for another?” asked the neurologist
“Yes sir, bring it,” urged Diosa.
By midafternoon, the neurologist placed the color cards on the tray table beside Warlock’s bed. Explaining they needed to make rounds of other patients, the doctors left the hospital room.
Far down the corridor of the medical deck, the ophthalmologist glanced at the other doctor and asked, “Why can’t we tell Master Sergeant Alberich about the other capabilities of her bionic eye?”
“Beyond the passive wavelengths collectors, the other features are more robust,” the neurologist explained. “Usually, those scanners have powerful central processing units and programmers to code and sort the data. Master Sergeant Alberich only has her mind and will. If we share the potential, she might try accessing the features before her brain is ready. We’ll let her discover them as her brain learns to handle each. If she accommodates one or two, or even three, it’ll be through sheer determination. I’d be surprised if she ever adapts to all six scanners.”
“I don’t see how she could,” the ophthalmologist agreed. “I’ve seen cases of severe light sensitivity and it’s horrible on the patient’s lifestyle. I couldn’t imagine her life with all that unfiltered stimuli firing in her brain.”
Chapter – 14 Seeing Isn’t Believing
Early in fourth shift, Warlock rolled over onto her right side and nudged the goggle off kilter. Although the dark room provided no light to interpret colors, as if gentle breezes caressed her eye, waves rolled in sending stimuli to her brain.
It wasn’t steady colors she visualized. Rather the waves bounced as they flowed by her eye sending confusing signals to her brain. Hands clapping, slowly and out of rhythm, flashed in her thoughts. Then she visualized rabbits. Not the real animal but a cartoon image of a rabbit thumping its foot.
Diosa closed her left eye and moved the goggle up to her forehead. Twisting her face from side to side, she sought to find the strongest waves.
There, behind her hospital bed, the waves seemed to be coming through the bulkhead. Getting up, she pulled on a robe and slid her feet into a pair of slippers. At the wall, she rapped lightly. Her ears identified the hollow sound as secondary construction and not part of the Battleship’s alloy bulkhead.
The waves were definitely coming through the cosmetic wall. And while she couldn’t figure out what the waves represented, she decided two things. They came from the adjacent hospital room and she needed to investigate.
Master Sergeant Alberich opened her left eye and the intensity of the waves dropped considerably. In the corridor outside her room, she glanced in both direction. Explaining the stimuli would be impossible to a nurse. As would her reason for wandering the hallways in the middle of the night shift.
The door to the adjacent room rested partially open. She eased it wide enough to enter. In the low light, her left eye saw a hospital bed with a covered patient. Closing her eye, she again felt the waves. This time they were almost a solid cascading presence and emitting from the patient. The patient’s chest she identified as she approached the bed.
Then her mind interpreted the thump, stomp, thump, stomp as a drum with a loose drum head. But the beat was off. Placing two fingers on the patient’s neck, as she’d been taught in Striker medical training, she felt for the patient’s pulse. It was barely detectable. But the various images created by the waves suddenly hazed over and when they cleared, she visualized an image of a beating heart. This patient’s heart and it’s wasn’t steady or strong.
Reaching for the nurse’s call box, Warlock opened her left eye and pressed the emergency button. Quickly, she fled the to the hallway. By the time a response team passed, she was sitting in her room. From a chair, she scanned the dark by twisting her face in different directions as she concentrated on the various waves floating around her.
***
“We’re surprised to find you up already,” the ophthalmologist said as he walked into the room.
Behind him, the neurologist strolled in and voiced his opinion, “Master Sergeant, you should be exhausted after the initial exposure to the brain stimuli yesterday.”
“I slept for a few hours but the sounds kept me up,” Warlock answered as she lifted the goggle from over her right eye.
“Other than a heart attack in the next room, the hospital deck has been quiet,” commented the ophthalmologist.
“How is he?” inquired Diosa.
“It was touch and go according to the attending,” responded the ophthalmologist. “But the response team reached him in time to save his life.”
“Doctors, I’m a Striker Team Leader. My job is to gather all the mission parameters and weigh the consequences of a variety of actions,” stated Warlock. “The worst thing that can happen in the planning stages of an operation is faulty or in complete data.”
“Not too different from our preop planning before surgery,” the neurologist added. “You seem troubled. Is the eye causing you stress?”
“It isn’t the eye that’s causing me to question the data,” Warlock assured them. “It’s the lack of full disclosure.”
“I’m confused. What is the issue?” asked the ophthalmologist.
“Let me demonstrate,” offered Warlock. “I’ve been your experiment and gone along with everything you’ve asked of me. Return a small favor and hop on one foot. Both of you.”
“Now I’m confused,” admitted the neurologist.
“Humor me. Jump!” ordered Warlock in her command voice.
The two highly intelligent doctors responded by lifting a foot and hopping up and down on the other. While they jumped, she closed her left eye and slipped the goggle off her right. Then, she sat up and remained still. After thirty seconds, she waved a hand in the air.
“Please stop and thank you for indulging me. For a doctor of optometry, I’d expect you to take better care of yourself. You have a slight heart mummer in the left ventricle,” Warlock announced before turning to the other doctor. “You are very fit, sir.”
“What did you just do, Master Sergeant?” demanded the neurologist.
“I watched the sound waves coming from your hearts,” replied Diosa. “Just like I heard the patient next door and pressed the emergency button. I believe it’s time you brought me up to speed. This bionic eye is more than a camera, isn’t it?”
The doctors glanced at each other and the ophthalmologist bowed to the neurologist and stepped back.
“The eye has six scanners,” he explained. “The color and hearing you have discovered. But for each of the scanners to function requires a mastery of your mind over the input. We were afraid your senses would become overloaded if you knew about all six.”
“I’ll take that chance,” Diosa assured him. “So, cough up the data, doc.”
“I will tell you. But understand, if you activate a scanner and your mind isn’t prepared, your brain, like an overloaded computer, will shut down,” warned the neurologist. “It may result in a form of schizophrenia. You’ll suffer a breakdown between thought, emotion, and behavior. The scanners will give you faulty perceptions and feelings. You could withdraw from reality into fantasy and delusion. And, for a logical planner and thinker, you’ll be trapped in a world of mental fragmentations.”
“Doctor, I’ve been shot, blown up, and had metal fragments removed from my body, all while completing missions. My job is to stand in a hatchway and be a target for the bad guys while my team gets into position. Then, while directing my team, I stroll down the corridor with people shooting at me,” Warlock informed him. “My reality is so far removed from a normal person that extra ideas and thoughts will have to get in line if they want my attention.”
Again, the doctors exchanged looks before the ophthalmologist stepped forward. After a deep breath, he began.
“Beyond color and visualizing sound waves, your bionic eye has a scattered imaging receptor,” explained the ophthalmologist. “It collects and builds images from the other side of translucent surfaces. Think of what you see through frosted or etched glass. The light passing through is scattered making the images undefined. When you master the scattered receptor, your mind will see the shapes clearly.”
“It’s not only for blurry glass. If you hold your hand over a light, you can see the red blood cells in the defused light,” the neurologist added. “The light is scattered and a normal eye can’t see anything except a discoloration between the fingers. Your scattered receptor should be able to see below the surface of the dermis. Not far, but deep enough to witness blood flowing to capillaries. It’s not x-ray vision but it’s enough to see changes in the physiology.”
“That’s impressive,” admitted Warlock.
“Master Sergeant, we haven’t gotten to the impressive features yet,” the ophthalmologist said. “Your bionic eye also has a Haller’s Organ.”
“Who is Haller and what do I care about his organ?” asked Diosa while flashing an innocent grin.
“I like your attitude. Doctor Haller researched ticks,” the ophthalmologist responded getting a sour look from Warlock. “The Haller Organ detects exhaled carbon dioxide and ammonia from sweat. It’s how ticks locate hosts.”
“Do I have to drink blood when the Haller’s Organ is activated?” teased Diosa. “Like a vampire, a mosquito or a tick.”
“No, you don’t have to drink blood,” the neurologist promised. “The Haller receptor will allow you to detect changes in breathing and when a mammal is sweating.”
“With those four elements in my bionic eye, I can see why you were worried about my senses getting overloaded,” Diosa exclaimed. “I’m a walking diagnostic machine.”
The ophthalmologist coughed into his hand and shifted his eyes to look at the neurologist. Warlock picked up on the motion and the unanswered question that passed between the doctors.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” guessed Diosa. “You’ve been open with me so far. Let’s not stop now. Out with it.”
“There are two more features and they cause me the most consternation,” stated the neurologist.
“You mean worry about my brain handling the inputs?” asked Diosa. “What are my other super powers?”
“A thermal radiation receptor,” the ophthalmologist reported. “If you reach the stage where you engage the receptor, you’ll see heat signatures.”
“Infrared! We have infrared cameras in our helmets,” stated Diosa. “Although we use it sparingly because it drains our power packs. Oh, I see. It takes a lot of energy to use.”
“Yes. However, your bionic eye has an atomic battery. I’m not worried about energizing the infrared sensor,” explained the neurologist. “In your military equipment, you have a computer to sort the heat signatures and a display to view the images. That’s what drains your battery. Your brain is a biological computer. Sorting heat signatures and visualizing them could tax you beyond the breaking point.”
“I guess it’ll be up to me to learn how to turn off the infrared receptor,” offered Diosa. “You said two more. What else is in this contraption that will drive me insane.”
“This is not a joke,” scolded the neurologist.
“And neither is entering a corridor filled with pirates or Constabulary Troops looking to kill me,” advised Diosa. “Humor is a requirement to voluntarily go into a firefight and perform horrible acts. Humor, Doctors, as the saying goes, is the best medicine. One more feature. Let’s get to it.”
“While the infrared is passive, the last sensor has a light source,” announced the ophthalmologist.
“A laser beam? I can shoot lasers from my eye like the evil character in an action video?” ventured Diosa. “I may have to change my Call Sign to Cyclops.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Master Sergeant, but there is no laser,” the ophthalmologist corrected her fantasy. “The last feature is an ultraviolet scanner. A narrow fluorescent beam will allow you to see UV emitting objects.”
“Hold on. One of my super powers is seeing lint on clothing and scorpions at night,” observed Diosa. “Not very impressive.”
“Many bodily fluids fluoresce under ultraviolet light. Not blood, but you’ll be able to see seminal fluids, saliva and urine,” listed the neurologist. “As well as teeth and bone.”
“Ugh, now when I check into a hotel, I can see if there are fresh sheets on the bed,” commented Diosa. “Or tell if someone has been doing the nasty on old sheets.”
“If you
are able to master the last two features,” the ophthalmologist explained. “Your range will be far above and below the visual spectrum. That’s if you can handle the stimuli and learn to understand the images.”
“Now that I know, what’s the next step?” inquired Diosa.
“To start, we’re going to put you in an isolation chamber and feed you sounds,” the neurologist replied. “And remember, at any time, we can remove the device if your senses get overwhelmed or if you become uncomfortable.”
“Negativity is a virus that, left unchecked, spreads and infects,” Diosa advised. “There are many symptoms of the disease. The worst is fear. Let’s not give the virus a ride on this mission. When do we begin?”
***
Warlock pulled the gauze and tape off her left eye and slipped the smoked glass goggle down over the other. After a wave at the technician in the control booth, she left the isolation chamber. Her personal neurologist, as she thought of the doctor, waited in the corridor. Lifting the goggle, she quickly scanned him.
“Your sweat glands are working overtime. Your blood pressure is up and your heartrate sounds like you’ve run a flight of stairs,” reported Diosa as she replaced the goggle. “What’s going on Doc?”
“It’s still unnerving when you do that,” commented the neurologist. “What’s going on is we’ve been ordered to release you. And ship you off to Command Station for further review.”
“In the Strikers, we hold information about secret projects to a closed group,” teased Warlock. “If you hadn’t published all those professional papers to brag, you’d have your experiment a little longer.”
“The Remote Surgeons at Command Station want to examine you,” explained the neurologist. “And I published my peer findings using patient designation A. Your name is nowhere in the research.”
“I’m a secret except for the doctors on Command Station. Well they better enjoy my eye while they can,” responded Warlock pointing to her right eye. “With this gear, I’m unqualified to be a Striker and I’ve been informed, because of the nature of the mutation and the sensors, I’m not allowed to join a Marine combat team. I’ve pretty much decided to take medical retirement.”
Op File Revenge Page 13