by Rachel Aukes
When there was only a quarter of the bag’s contents remaining, Rusty spoke again. “I am activating my nanites’ initial programming.”
Macy seized and then convulsed. Punch grabbed her arms to keep her from hurting herself. “Something’s wrong,” he called out. Throttle grabbed Macy’s legs and shot Punch a worried look.
“Her body is undergoing a transition from the invasive nanites to my nanites. The existing nanites are putting up a fight. I am monitoring her biometrics. Be patient as the changeover completes,” Rusty said.
Fear caused Punch to look up at the ceiling speaker from where Rusty’s voice emitted. “Patient? It looks like you’re killing her. Stop!”
A familiar beep sounded, and Rusty spoke. “Step away from Macy so that I can administer defibrillation.”
Throttle pulled Punch back, and he forced himself to let go of the shuddering girl. Her chest lurched upward, and the convulsions stopped.
“My nanites have successfully supplanted the invasive nanites. Macy’s biometrics are now stable. I can monitor and respond to health issues via Macy’s nanites now. You can remove all connection points into her body,” Rusty said.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I can’t believe it worked,” Eddy exclaimed.
Punch rushed back to touch his daughter as Throttle disconnected the IV and wires.
He cupped Macy’s face in his hands, but she showed no signs of consciousness. The smattering of hope that had kindled within him smoldered. “It didn’t work.”
“Macy survived the transition and needs time to adjust. The nanites must now replicate and patch damaged biomatter and build new pathways in her brain. From the initial data I’ve received, I estimate that I cannot bring Macy to consciousness for at least four days. I want her body to heal as much as possible before I wake her,” Rusty said.
The lights went off and then back on. The second of darkness was a spear of terror to Punch’s heart. An EMP wave.
“I am rebooting several systems,” Rusty said.
Throttle squeezed Punch’s shoulder. “I’d better get back to the bridge,” she said and left.
“You need to relocate Macy to the Faraday cage to protect her from the EMP waves. They kill my nanites as easily as they killed the others,” Rusty said.
“But how can you monitor her in there?” Eddy asked.
“I can’t, but Macy is stable and should no longer require constant monitoring. Should she require defibrillation, the nanites will administer shocks directly to her heart. Based on the nanites’ replication rates and the current intensity of EMP waves, open the door for ten minutes every hour so that I can analyze Macy’s biometrics and recalibrate her nanites. When I’m not connected to Macy, let her rest—the nanites are intensely working throughout her body.”
Eddy gave a half-smile. “My job here is done. Let me know the next time you need me to save someone’s life.” With that, he left.
Punch carried his daughter as carefully as he could from his cabin to the Faraday cage, paying no attention to Finn and Sylvian, who followed. The tin box looked like a horrible place to be, but it was necessary. He had to duck and turn to carry her inside. He gently laid Macy on the mattress and covered her with blankets. Then Punch sat down next to her on the rubber mat. He looked to the doorway to see Finn and Sylvian watching.
Sylvian gave him a soft look. “One of us will be just outside. Call out if you need anything.”
“I’ll open the door in sixty minutes,” Finn said.
Punch tilted his head toward the pair. “Thanks.”
Finn closed the door, and Punch could hear thin aluminum being rolled over the cracks. The small light cast odd shadows onto the plastic lining the walls. Everything was so silent, he could hear his breathing. More so, he could hear Macy’s breathing. It was steady and stronger than he’d heard in a long time. He felt his muscles relax, and he inhaled deeply. Then his breath caught. He hadn’t thought of air circulation when he and Finn had wrapped the crate in aluminum. He looked around, up, and down, taking in the size—or lack of size—of the container. His breathing became shallow as he sat through an interminably long hour.
Punch was relieved when Finn opened the door. “How’s Macy doing?” the soldier asked.
“No change. But at least no more convulsions or V-fib,” Punch said before he crawled out and sucked in a deep breath. “We need an air processor in there.”
“I’ll check with Eddy.”
Finn took off. Punch stood and stretched while he propped open the door they’d made in the side of the crate.
Rusty spoke. “Punch, I wanted to let you know that I’m connected to Macy. The nanites are replicating and patching her organs without any significant error codes. I have analyzed the data, and I’m focusing the nanites on her spine and heart first.”
“I don’t care what you work on as long as you’re working on making Macy better,” he said.
“I assure you that I’ll do everything within my capabilities to restore Macy.”
Punch looked back at his daughter, who lay on the mattress. The color had returned to her face, though that could’ve been wishful thinking. He glanced at the bare crate, which resembled a metal tomb. “Too bad we don’t have access to the High Spirit. I kept a locker of Macy’s things on board that I bet she’d like to have once she wakes up.” He sighed. “I’m going to miss that ship. She was a good ship.”
“I’m curious. Why do you refer to your ship using a feminine pronoun?” Rusty asked.
Punch shrugged. “No reason, I guess. I just always have. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. I chose a masculine pronoun for myself, and I wondered if other central command computers make similar choices.”
Punch smirked. “Nope. I’ve never met a central computer like you. You’re a one of a kind, that’s for sure.”
“Thank you.”
Finn returned with a small air purifier. “It’s not a converter, but it might at least keep things a little fresher in there. As a bonus, it’s battery-powered, so no generator needed.”
Punch took the small gray piece of equipment. “I’ll just try not to breathe hard,” he said, only half joking. He sighed. “I guess it’s time to head back in.” He crouched and reentered the cage.
“See you in sixty,” Finn said as he closed the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Hello, Macy. Can you hear me?
The world was dark. Macy wasn’t sure her eyes were open. No, she didn’t think they were. She heard the voice, but it wasn’t “the” voice. This one sounded different.
“Yes,” she said, then realized she’d only thought the word. Yes.
I’m relieved to hear that you can form cognitive thoughts. You’ve been through a lot, Macy, but you’re safe now, the new voice said within her head. This voice was a lot different than “the” voice. It had the same accent as the other, but this one was kinder, gentler, and—for the first time in a very long time—someone spoke to her like she was a human rather than a zombie ghost.
Where am I? Macy asked.
You’re on board the Javelin. Your father is sitting next to you.
He’s here? But I can’t see him. Why can’t I open my eyes? she asked, feeling a sudden burst of anxiety.
Her body calmed, and she knew it wasn’t her doing.
Don’t be alarmed. You’re in a coma while your body heals, he said.
I’m in a coma? Does that mean I’m alive and not a zombie ghost?
The new voice chuckled. No, you’re not a zombie ghost, though I admit I’m not sure what one of those are. You’re alive, but your body is undergoing serious medical support. The invasive nanites have been eradicated, but you still require time for my nanites to meld with your organs and help you heal.
She frowned. She didn’t know what a few of those words meant, so she asked about the one that seemed most important. What are nanites?
Nanites are tiny computers. The probe that kidnapped you injected you with aggressive nanite
s that attacked your body. By the time Punch—I mean, your father—
That’s okay. I call him Punch, too, she thought.
Punch, then. By the time Punch freed you from the probe, its nanites had done significant damage to your tissue and organs. More damage than any human could heal on their own. Do you understand, Macy?
She shook her head, but knew the action was only in her mind. Not really. Am I going to die?
No, Macy. I promise you that you will live, but you won’t be like you were before the probe took you.
What do you mean?
There was a slight pause before he answered, There was too much damage. I’m currently replacing your damaged cells with nanites. That means you will always have nanites in your body and mind.
Fear sent tingles through her. She really was a zombie ghost. So I’ll never be in control of my own body again?
You will eventually be able to control your own body, but how you control it will be different. The probe’s nanites only listened to the probe’s instructions. My nanites will listen to your instructions, but it will take time for us to teach them. I’m developing an upgrade to speed up the process. I promise you, Macy, that you will have complete control of your body again, with help from your new nanites.
She thought for a moment. Am I an android?
The new voice chuckled again, and she decided she liked that sound. No, Macy, you’re not an android. However, with the amount of nanites in your body, you do have a significant number of artificial components. I suppose you could call yourself whatever you want.
I want to be human.
Then you’re human, just as you were before you were taken. I would go further and say that you’re more than human. The things we will achieve together may prove to be greater than you could achieve on your own.
What do you mean? she asked.
Nanites don’t have biological restrictions. With practice, you may be able to run faster. You’ll even be able to calculate more complicated math problems in your head. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, we need to help you recover enough to take your first steps on your own again. The crew is eager to meet you.
Excitement built within her. Being alone for so long had nearly driven her crazy. There are more people on board besides Punch?
Yes. You’ll meet Eddy, Sylvian, Throttle, and Finn soon. I’ll tell you all about them. They all want to meet you, though Punch is the most anxious to see you awake. He’s been very worried. He’s barely left your side since he brought you on board. As soon as your body heals itself enough, I’ll let you wake up so you can see them. In the meantime, you should sleep.
No! she exclaimed quickly, then added, Don’t make me sleep. The other one made me sleep all the time. Promise me that you won’t force me to do stuff.
I promise you, Macy Durand, that I’ll never force you to do anything.
Good, she thought.
Good, he answered in a similar tone. Since you’re not in the mood to sleep, would you like to talk to me?
About what?
Anything you want, he replied. Tell me about the time you spent on the probe.
She shivered. I don’t want to talk about that.
That’s fine. What do you want to talk about?
She thought for a long moment. My favorite show is The Adventures of Ryorab the Ultra-Rabbit. Have you seen it?
Ryorab is my favorite vampire bunny, he replied proudly. I’ve seen all the episodes. Tell me your favorite episode.
And so she did.
Chapter Fourteen
After two days, Punch was exhausted and numb. His life had become one-hour sessions of waiting—sometimes with a power nap—with ten-minute bursts of life. Macy had shown no changes, but Rusty assured him that her body was accepting the nanites better than he’d projected.
It was the fourth break on the second day—yes, he was keeping count—when Punch returned from the galley, with a bowl of artificial rice in his hands, to find Macy standing outside the Faraday cage.
He dropped the bowl. “Macy?”
She cocked her head. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
He rushed to her and fell to his knees before her, grabbing her arms. “You’re awake.” He laughed. “I can’t believe it. You’re really awake!”
She stared at him with her mother’s deep blue eyes. Her eyes moved as she took in him and the cargo hold, but she didn’t speak. When she’d last opened her eyes, she’d been catatonic. This was different. He could see she was in there, but she seemed so far away.
“She’s thirsty,” Rusty said.
“Oh, yeah.” Punch looked around and saw Eddy at his engineering station, bent over a soldering project. “Eddy! Get Macy something to drink.”
Eddy stared. “She’s awake?”
“Get her something to drink now, or else I’ll take one of your toes when you sleep.”
Eddy scowled, muttered something, and trudged down the hallway. Punch supposed that he’d been slightly overaggressive with Eddy. He’d possibly consider apologizing later.
“The nanites have many days to go before they will have replicated enough for Macy to function without my assistance,” Rusty said.
Punch frowned as he stared into his daughter’s eyes. His temper began to rise. “Are you saying you’re controlling her?”
“I am, but I’m working in cooperation with her desires rather than forcing her to do anything. The nanites read what she wants, send me the request, and I send instructions on helping her do that. She’s not strong enough on her own to function. She wanted to wake, and I woke her. She wanted to walk, and I gave guidance to the nanites in her legs to make that happen. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Punch said. “Will she ever be able to do what she wants without you?”
“It is my hope that, eventually, the nanites will be able to take direction directly from her. However, her mind is…fractured. That’s why the requests are fed to me for interpretation.”
“You’d better not force her to do anything against her will,” Punch cautioned.
“I will not,” Rusty said.
Eddy handed a bottle to Punch. “Here you go, meanie.”
Punch raised the bottle to Macy’s lips. Her hands moved weakly toward the bottle before dropping.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. I’ve got it.” He tilted the bottle so that the slightest stream of water came out. Some of it dribbled down her chin, but some made it into her mouth. She choked, then swallowed.
“Macy is tired,” Rusty said.
Punch nodded. He lifted her and carried her back to the cot. As soon as he set her down, her eyes closed, and her breathing steadied.
She slept through the next day.
On the fourth day, Punch shot awake at a sound, to find Macy sitting and watching him.
“Punch?” she asked.
Happiness filled him. Macy wasn’t a shell—she was still there!
He grinned. “Yeah, it’s me, pumpkin.” She’d never called him dad, and that was his fault. In his attempts to hide her from his enemies, he’d never let her use any term of endearment that would give away their relationship—for all the good that did.
She took in the crate they sat within and shivered. She looked at him. “Did they catch you, too?”
He had to process her question for a moment before he realized that she still thought she was a prisoner. “No, Macy. We’re safe. We’re just in this crate to help you get better.”
She frowned as she thought; then she looked at him. “So that’s why the voice in my head’s changed.”
He didn’t realize nanites could “speak” in any sense, but he assumed that was what she was talking about. Either that, or she’d developed a mental illness while in captivity, which also wouldn’t have surprised him.
“What’s the voice say to you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Lots of things. He talks to me as long as I want to listen.” She wrinkled her nose. “He talks funny, but I like him
a whole lot better than the other guy. He’d only talk to make me do things.”
Punch went stiff. “What kinds of things?”
She mimicked a deep voice. “‘Sit still, stop crying, don’t speak, go to sleep.’” She rolled her eyes. “He made me go to sleep all the time, even when I wasn’t tired.”
He forced himself to remain calm even though he looked forward to the day he’d carve the hearts out of her captors. He swallowed before asking his next question. “Did they hurt you?”
“Not really,” she replied. “It only hurt when they jabbed the really big needle in my stomach, and when the drone shot me.”
He stiffened. “They shot you?”
She nodded. “I was walking home from school when these two drones started following me. I thought a couple of guys from my homeroom class were just messing with me. I got annoyed when the drones kept following, so I threw a rock at one. Then the other one shot me with a big dart. I pulled it out, but then I don’t remember anything else until I woke up inside this big gray room.”
He probed, trying to glean as much information as he could to get an edge on her kidnappers. “What did you see?”
She shrugged. “There wasn’t much to see. I could tell I was on a ship, because it had that same kind of hum that the High Spirit gets when it flies fast. But there weren’t any windows. It didn’t look like the High Spirit on the inside at all. There was no bridge or anything. Just a big open space. The walls were lined with more of those drones.”
“How many people were on board with you?” he asked.
She cocked her head at him. “There weren’t any people. I never saw anyone else. It was just me and the drones. It was really lonely. I was scared, and I started to cry.”
He frowned. “Then who gave you the shot?”
“One of the drones. It zoomed at me—I thought it was going to kill me—and it pressed me against the wall and stabbed me with a really big needle. I cried a lot after that. I got really bad headaches. After that, there was a guy who talked to me in my head. I didn’t like him at all. He wasn’t nice. He didn’t talk to me like the voice does now.” She smiled. “We talk a lot. He asks me about school and my favorite books and things. He’s my friend.” Her smile fell. “But that other voice wasn’t nice at all. He just told me to do things, and I had to do whatever he said.”