“Sounds great if you don’t listen to what is being said.” Dolore rolled his eyes. ”Exactly how does this solve any problems? For all your techno talk, none of this sounds much more technologically advanced than what is already available. Myoelectric limbs are dated these days, and this seems to have fewer practical applications. What is he going to end up with? A mass of nanobots that transitions between a liquid pool and a solid structure?”
“That’s more or less what we’re going for,” said Dr. Ingram. “I assure you, this will in no way be a traditional prosthesis. The outer structure of each nanobot is composed of alloyed metal, allowing the overall structure of the prosthesis to become like that of a blade or other metal implement while in a solid state. Since we have opted for direct cranial innervation, Cyrus will be capable of instantly changing the shape of his prosthesis with a mere thought. He will be able to transform and configure his prosthesis into all matter of melee weapons and defensive implements, swords, axes, hammers, bulletproof shields, whatever. He will be limited only by his imagination. If this device works like I believe it will, he will be even stronger than before. His only possible equal will be the beast that escaped from the mountain lab. We have been given a great opportunity. Cyrus’s kresnik healing ability allows him to withstand the mechanical stress of using such a device in a way no ordinary human could ever hope for.”
Dolore frowned, still not caring for what he was hearing.
Dr. Shen’s frustration died away, replaced by hope. Both he and Elysia hung on Dr. Ingram’s every word.
Cyrus groaned again, barely understanding what he heard.
“Looks like we have you, Dolore,” said Dr. Shen. He smiled, confident of his victory over the CEO.
“It does sound impressive.” Dolore was unwilling to accept defeat. “The board will likely proceed with the project using the current test subject so long as this procedure is successful. It absolutely has to work, or else will be forced to move on with a different test subject.”
“Oh, believe me, it will work.” Dr. Ingram gave him a smug look. “We will increase his killing efficiency to such an extent that we’ll be wondering why we didn’t replace his arm with a prosthesis before Dr. Shen even began his gene-altering procedure.”
“We’ll see,” said Dolore as another unsavory thought entered his head. “But what about the test subject’s hyper-aggression? He will remain in danger of further injury if he continues to display such behavior. How do you plan to deal with that?”
“Simple,” said Dr. Ingram. “Additional nanobots will be injected into his brain. We have created bots capable of suppressing the activities of certain areas of the brain that increase aggression, such as the amygdala, and act to increase the activities of certain areas of the brain that act to decrease it, like the prefrontal cortex. This will substantially reduce Cyrus’s aggression when confronted by a vampire such that he will remain capable of rational thinking.”
“Did somebody call for a surgeon?”
A man in green scrubs burst through the double doors. A group of similarly dressed nurses followed him, some of whom pushed metal, rolling trays.
Most of the trays carried the traditional instruments of surgery, scalpels, saws, and the like, whereas strange objects lay atop the others. These were the parts of Cyrus’s soon-to-be prosthesis. All that was missing was the metallic mass of nanobots.
“Hello, Dr. Smith,” said Ingram, smiling. “Yes, I absolutely called for a surgeon.”
“I suppose you had this planned the whole time.” Dolore groaned with frustration. “Whatever. Since Dr. Shen still has absolute say over the project, his word is all that matters. Things may change soon. Catch you guys later.” He smirked at Dr. Shen and turned for the door, leisurely strolling away.
“Well, as you’ve heard Dolore say plenty of times,” said Ingram. “You’re in charge, Danny boy. Would you like Dr. Smith to proceed?”
“Yes, of course,” said Shen, turning to speak to Dr. Smith, “You are free to proceed.”
“Here we go.” Dr. Smith rubbed his rubber-gloved hands together in anticipation.
He stepped toward Cyrus’s bed as Shen, Ingram, and Elysia backed away.
“Hello, Cyrus.” Smith looked down at him, his face hard for Cyrus to see through the light. He had dressed for surgery, his face concealed by a mask, and a surgical cap covered his head. “I’m Dr. Smith. I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you ready for us to fix you up?”
Cyrus attempted to say ‘yes’ but instead nodded his head to convey the answer.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Smith. “Nurse!” he called over to his staff. “The patient needs more anesthetic stat!”
The nurse strode across the floor, a giant needle full of anesthetic nanobots in her hands. She looked down at Cyrus as she prepared to inject him.
“I will try to be gentle,” said the nurse. “This will only sting a little.” She gently jabbed the needle into his neck, pushing down on the plunger.
“Goodnight, Cyrus,” said Elysia. She stood beside his bed, her beautiful brown eyes full of hope.
“When you wake up, you will be even better than before,” said Dr. Ingram, standing at Cyrus’s feet. Dr. Shen stood beside her.
Cyrus could only stare at them now, expecting the nanobots to take effect soon.
“I’m going to have to ask you guys to leave the room now,” said Dr. Smith, his demeanor still friendly. “Space is at a premium in here.”
“Goodbye,” said Dr. Ingram as the three of them all turned toward the doors.
Cyrus tried to say something yet again, but the already bright lights above him grew intense as he fell back into unconsciousness.
* * *
Cyrus blinked, awoken by the intense lights, the anesthetic effects of the nanobots dying off.
“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”
He looked up to find Dr. Ingram with her hand on his right shoulder. She was staring down at his arm, repressed pleasure in her voice.
“I call it the TAPSAW, a Transformative Alloy Prosthetic Shape-Altering Weapon.”
Ingram ran her hand over Cyrus’s head, petting him as though he were a cat.
“You will be unstoppable. The vampire’s reign as apex predator will soon be over. All will fall prey to you now.”
Cyrus tried to flex his arm, wishing it could somehow be whole again. He trembled, straining to see what had become of it.
Instead of a limb of flesh and bone, it was a mass of hardware connected to what looked like a pool of metallic, obsidian-black tar.
The dark pool began to ripple…
About The Author
Dallas Massey
Dallas Massey is from Seymour, Missouri, and has always fostered a love of both reading and biology. He received his Master’s in Cell and Molecular Biology from Missouri State University in 2014. He returned to the same university as an online adjunct professor, teaching Concepts/Issues in Life Science. Dallas likes to incorporate his scientific knowledge into his writing wherever possible, adding a dose of authenticity to his fictional works. Though he loves writing, it was never his first career choice as his initial ambition was to become a successful genetic engineer. Unfortunately, Dallas was born with Duchenne’s muscular dystrophy, a degenerative muscle disease that grants him only limited use of his limbs, his disorder keeping him from his dream occupation. He turned to writing after the loss of his younger brother, finding it provided him a constructive way to cope.
Fall Prey: The Hunt Page 45