The Good Doctor
Dr. Meadows nodded. "Well then, you're good to go! Hop up and try not to twist your body too much while your bones reconnect. When you do vomit, make sure there's no blood. If there is, means your body isn't recovering properly and your cell adhesion is failing. Start turning to mush if left alone and it sure as hell means I'm injecting you with Hatalico. Basically cell-cement. Forces your cells to hold together 'till they heal properly and is what makes you stiff as a board. Shouldn't be a problem though. Not unless you've have Hemophilia or something else that prevents clotting. Also, do not take Advil or any medication that makes any part of your body more 'slick' so to speak. Got it? Good."
***
General duties done for the day, Reginald bade the front-desk goodnight and ambled out of the hospital. He did not head home, however. Lighting a cigarette, he nodded to the two soldiers standing outside the shuttle, and boarded. The two followed in complete silence. Ignition punched and off they launched. Council business. He'd read the blurb. From the get-go, he didn't like it. For one, it was council business. Reginald was what he called a simple man. He liked to work at the hospital. He liked to help people. He liked a good smoke and a good drink at the end of a day accompanied with a game of cards. He liked being a grump. He loved his kids. Council business only occasionally involved a couple of those items. Funny, Imperial business had been mostly the same.
For another, the matter had been fairly well classified. Oh, the announcement of this find had been public enough. Gabi had come hollering to him immediately and there wasn't a classified marker on the document he read. But Reginald couldn't help but notice that the message had been both radically brief and completely devoid of any information that would declare why they needed Doctor Meadows. Cyrogentics wasn't, after all, his specialty. Hell, it was half physics and at least a quarter chemical science to begin with as was anything messing around with absolute zero. Which screamed to him exactly why they did want his medical expertise.
The shuttle hurtled over the secure field around the military base for the city. Its clearance codes ensured that it did not get vaporized out of the sky before touching down. The soldier escort led him into the compound, abuzz with the usual activity. Reginald hardly noticed. His eyes fixed upon the stately figure of Council member Lashenta, waiting by one of the entrances.
"Dr. Meadows," she greeted, "glad you could make it."
"Well, when the council says jump, I don't exactly have a plethora of options."
"Doctor, you know that you can decl…"
He cut her off, "yah, yah. Let's get on with it."
Her lips pursed. "I know that trust isn't easy, but if you just gave us some leeway. We're trying to free the galaxy. We're on the same side."
They had had this back and forth before. "You have a popsicle for me to look at?"
She sighed. "Yes, right this way."
It was a relatively short trip. Silent save for the flicks of Reginald's lighter as he lit his second cigarette and the group's footsteps. One overly secured doorway later and they entered an incredibly spartan room. Beyond the small crowd of people, it only had a single object. A metal container. Transparent to seem as glass, but Reginald guessed that the walling of the object was anything but. Something had to insulate the absolute zero temperature inside from the comfortably temperate outside. But that was what was normal. Within lay a…person? It seemed like it. Half a human head was visible. A woman's face, black hair with tan skin. Lips slightly apart with eyes closed. Fast asleep. The other half of her head was something else. Some sort of substance clung to her head. Expanding up and out to suddenly meld into a metal helm. Solidly fused together yet radically different visual form. The substance silver, while the helm a mix of black and gold. Looking across the rest of the person's body, Reginal saw that it was the same all over. A human hand with fingers covered by gauntlets. Fused together by silver. A patchwork person and armored machine. Like Frankenstein's Monster, yet the size was horribly mismatched. Grotesque.
"The hell am I looking at?" Reginald finally spoke.
His words seemed to have broken a spell of silence on the crowd.
"Meadows!" Dr. Kosovol, an imperial physics professor defector who taught at the local academy and specialized in preservatives of all kinds, said genially, "glad you made it. We were just wondering that too."
"Kosovol," Reginald returned with a handshake as he glanced around the room, "Colburn, Andrews, Johenessburg, and Kacresntia too? Seems like they pinched the lot of us for this."
"That they did," Andrews, a mechanical engineer with a cigar that seemed the width of Reginald's entire hand, puffed.
Colburn was the local military chemist. Johenessburg fit in the party as the quantum physicist, unsurprising considering who knew what that pod went through before coming here. And Kacresntia was a medical doctor. Cementing even more why Reginald knew he was called here. There was also a handful of soldiers who played the role of guards, of course Lashenta, and Admiral Tev who Reginald knew by reputation and appearance but not personally. A round of handshaking was done before they got right down to business.
"As you know," Tev took the lead in the proceedings, "this was discovered on the
INS Troubadour. Dr. Meadows, I know you sold your memory chip to join us, but we need to know. Is this possibly the next strain in Imperial genetic soldiers?"
Reginald considered the individual in stasis.
No clue. Even then, my field of research was WMDs. Shrugging off the wry thought, Reginald said, "Hmm, can't tell. Sorry."
He knew that a good number of people in this room, and beyond, didn't believe his tale in full. Oh, selling the memory chip that was a part of his cybernetics, certainly. That
all his memory was gone, definitely not. But enough people believed him and enough of those that didn't respected his privacy that there hadn't been any serious prying into his past…yet.
Tev nodded before continuing, "well, we can't rule it out. Scans so far have been…unusual. As far as we can tell, the individual in the container is a basic, female human that is both alive and in cryogenic stasis. No obvious genetic tampering. On the other hand, wherever that armor or silver growth is, our scans can't penetrate. Which, as you can see, is just about half the body. However, a scan of the half-exposed part of her skull has revealed Khivux biomatter."
Andrew's cigar dropped with his jaw. Kosovol blanched. Colburn's eyebrows launched up and beyond his hairline. Johenessburg turned pale green. Reginald's mind was thrown back in time. "Oh please, Reg, relax," she admonished, "it's only halfway across town. What could happen? You're becoming as paranoid as the soldiers about this. I'll be fine." With an effort, he tore himself out of the memory and back into the present. Lashenta and Kacresntia were nodding gravely. Obviously already aware.
Somehow, Reginald recovered first, "is she still infected?"
"No," Dr. Kacresntia replied, "at least, we don't think so. As we can't see the other half of the skull, it's impossible to tell. But the residue from what we can see suggests that it was destroyed. Violently. Not Mindfire. We do have some on hand in the case she isn't cured though."
Reginald stared again at the woman in the tank with apparent wonder. How had she survived what had ruined and killed so many others? How had she killed the monster that had sought to feast upon her mind? How was she even alive, frozen in front of them? The seemingly sole survivor of the
Troubadour. What was she?
"How did we get her from the
INS Troubadour?" asked Andrews. Voicing one of Reginald's many questions.
"That's classified," stepped forward Councilwoman Lashenta, "we're working out what details to share with the public at the moment. But something this big can't be kept quiet for long. So, this is the job people. Find us a way to wake her up safe and sound. No accidents. The overall tech is familiar, but whatever is keeping it powered certainly isn't."
Belatedly, Reginald realized that the cryochamber wasn't plugged into anything. And, while he knew that a body could still be kept cold enough for many hours and still awoken, it still should have warmed significantly throughout the journey here. Yet the basic scans, which were now being passed around, indicated that the patient in question still remained at that perfectly cold temperature.
"Nor is whatever tech is covering her. Discover a way to get readings on the rest of her body as well. And, with the criminal slime, the Jackrabbit, broadcasting across the galaxy that he has the
Troubadour's black box and its key, this operation is now priority one! Who knows how many people are now running the race towards the Phoenix Nebula. You're some of the brightest minds in the Resistance. Let's get to it people!"
***
A day later, they had made absolutely no progress. At least, in the effort of waking her up or discovering anything about the substance and armor covering her. Reginald had examined and discovered that, from what was visible, she seemed to be a healthy young woman. In fact, the odd thing was that she was, perhaps, a little too healthy. Clean would have been more of the word. No, even that wasn't strong enough…sterilized, that was it. As far as he could tell, there wasn't a speck of dirt or grime anywhere. They couldn't take a blood sample, entombed as she was. But her teeth were immaculate. Scans of her exposed body showed a radical lack of pathogens of any kind. Her liver looked as if it had never seen a drop of alcohol. From what he could see of her lungs, they were pink and healthy. Yet that phrase "from what we can see" seemed to be the hallmark of all their reporting so far.
For Reginald, there were strips of utter darkness across various parts of the patient's body. Her heart was totally eclipsed and the good doctor wondered if she had an artificial one. Parts of her aforementioned lungs were covered. Bones suddenly became impenetrable black rods before returning, suddenly, to usual marrow. Andrews still had no clue on how the cryochamber was being powered. Marveling how, after connecting the device to a secure power supply as the entire room was isolated to prevent tampering, it would remain perfectly energized regardless of how much or how little extra energy he fed it. As if whatever was powering it was perfectly adjusting to the fluxuations. Both Colburn and Johenessburg were growing more and more frustrated as their examination of the substance failed to produce results. "It's like it knows where we're going to look next and prepares. Nothing should be this protected! Even stealth vessels!"
Kosovol was ecstatic. Rattling off theories of compounding cold fusion to how antimatter must be endothermic to maintain such rigid temperatures. He kept arguing that they should isolate a portion of the container where the patient didn't lie and see if they could warm that up. It was agreed that they would try that tomorrow as Reginald sipped a mug of coffee. Perusing scans he had made from this morning and comparing them to repeated test throughout the day. Suddenly he did a double take.
"It's grown!" he shouted.
"What's grown?" said Andrews.
"That ruddy silver stuff. It's covering more of her exterior today than this morning."
"What?! That shouldn't be possible," exclaimed Kosovol who was positively bouncing with excitement, "it's absolute zero in there. No molecular movement."
Reginald flick at his holopad. Turning on its projector function and flicked picture after picture of data from his scans. Sure enough, a solid two millimeters all across her exposed clothes and skin had been sealed up under silver and armor. Suddenly energized, Johenessburg dashed to his tool cart, that was wheeled in by soldiers yesterday evening, and whipped up a microscope camera. Aligning it delicately along the seam of armor and clothing, he projected the picture. Sure enough, it was growing. Slow and steady yet with the unwavering progress of a tsunami wave, it was spreading across her.
"Right, well, we're going to need to keep an eye on that," Johenessburg eventually said after the wall of silver had crossed the microscope's range of vision. They all continued to look, however. Reginald knew they were wondering the same questions as the night before. What, under heaven, was this woman?
***
"Ever get the feeling we're being watched?" asked Andrews for the fifth time today. Nobody bothered answering. After trying Kosovol's experiment by cutting into an unoccupied section of the pod. Isolating it with sheets of metal and then heating it up in the traditional way. It had worked and, encouraged by the success, they had tried to heat her same way. Only to find that the unit had remained stubbornly cold. Impervious to all attempts. During this process, the feeling had washed over each and every one of them. That an eye was on them. Looking at them with neither malice nor benevolence. An empty eye save for its sight that still saw everything. But on what scales it weighed what it saw was an utter mystery.
Reginald looked across the pod again, sighing, before suddenly freezing in place. His eyes locked onto an almost out of the way place at its base. There, small and yet visible to the naked eye was a single lens. Seemingly staring right at him.
"There," he whispered.
"What?" said Colburn.
"Camera, there…scan the pod again. Whole pod."
Andrews rushed over to the computer, typing in commands and, a second later, the pod from day 0 was placed against day 2. Jagged veins had pierced through it all. Noticeable by the fact that there seemed to be nothing. No pod, just what seemed to be empty space. Yet it certainly could not have been empty for the pod still ran perfectly. One of those lines ran right to the camera Reginald noticed. As if that had been a signal, as if realizing how much it was being detected, the substance reacted. Johenessburg exclaimed, "it's covering her!"
Indeed, at a rate incredibly visible to the human eye, it was flowing over her. Crushing the frost that coated the skin.
"Temperature's dropping," stated Kosovol, "is she waking up? Meadows, how's her neural pathways?"
Reginald rushed over to his own equipment, "they're lightin' up. All over, they're springin' to life! No, wait, stormin' stuff! I'm losing my view. She's being covered too much." Reginald looked at the woman. Eyes narrowed.
What the hell is goin' on in there? Then he saw it, for the briefest instant before it was covered. He saw her eye snap open. Brown and plain. Empty of expression. Then it was gone.
Reginald never forgot that eye. And that was to his credit for it and its pair often tried to trick him. Shimmering with mirth and delight. A glittering trick to bedazzle the eyes. Reginald knew better. He'd seen those eyes before. First, in clinical observations back in university. Second, during the Paranoia War. Third, once, in the mirror. They were dangerous eyes. Terrifying as being lost in the void of space when your tether snapped. Devoid of hope. Shells of men who walked about streets without a glimmer of light at the end of the bleak tunnels they walked. Some prayed they may still find one. Some hoped it would be a train.
Nor did he forget what happened next. Adrenaline pumping into his body at the sudden events slowed time just enough as the armor erupted from the cryochamber. It didn't explode. Not really. Despite the metal hulk shattering its way through the container's walls. Each shard that attempted to fly free was intercepted. Caught by strands of flowing silver and then drawn back into the armored form. Leaving behind a broken egg without fragments.
Molding silver flowed and grew into solidified plate across its body. Yet, even as it was still forming, the woman in the machine shot across the room, grabbed the hapless Reginald with one arm, and slammed him, with remarkably little pain, against the wall.
"Dr. Meadows!" Guards were raising weapons. Safeties switching off. "Release…"
An incoherent string of sound spilled out from the machine. Pressing overwhelmingly upon the room's ears. Reginald was almost half-convinced it pressed upon his mind. His integrated universal translator recognizing the pattern of some language from the first two phrases alone but had no context. No basis. No ultimate understanding of what the distinctly machine, yet holding feminine undertone, was saying. It cocked its head, squeezing the gauntlet ever so slightly. Threatening to crush the fragile human bones beneath its machine grasp. Then, just as soon as the armor was settling into place, suddenly it reverted. Turning molten silver that gently deposited Reginald to the ground.
Drawing a breath he wasn't aware that he held in the first place. Massaging his neck. The humanoid form flowed to the center of the room. It knelt down as it spilled out into a shimmering pool of silver. Washing down off her until it finally revealed the head and body of a young woman. Serenely looking about the room with a light smile touching her face. Eyes, while not glinting, alive with gentle interest. Yet there was something strained about it. A phantom pain. Like a headache that couldn't quite be shaken off, but you pushed on through anyway. Nobody made a move towards the seemingly liquid quicksilver that still rippled gentle. As if someone had just thrown a stone into the center of a still pond.
The soldiers recovered from this sudden shift first. Aiming weapons at and demanding to know who she was.
"Apologies," she said, and Reginald dimly felt the translator in his cybernetics ping him that this individual was not speaking in Imperial Standard, but some archaic dialect found on a few fringe worlds whose words most often showed up on dockyards in the colorful language sailors employed on a daily basis.
"What?" barked a soldier. Clearly not all of them had the same level of translator program in their armor.
"Apologies," she repeated, switching again as smoothly as silk to Standard, "cryo-sleep does give quite the brain-freeze. Ice'd like to skate over the details and start again. I'm sure we'd get along, snowingly!"
A moment of stunned and utter silence passed before Reginald's brain spluttered into action,
is…is she bleedin' punning!?
The blast door suddenly whooshed open. Storming in was no less than a platoon or brigade's worth of firepower in the form of marines, Admiral Ven, and Gabi herself who was, apparently, visiting today!
"Oh look," she drawled, "an avalanche."
Reginald looked back at the woman and wondered, not for the last time,
who, under heaven, is this woman!?
The Ą̵̧̫̥̗͉̪̙̱̩̙̺͖͉̘͉͉̪͕̹̣̖͙͂̀̀̇̈́̑͊̔́͒̊̇͒̐̇͆̓̑̚͜͠͝͝͠Ç̴̢̛̛͕̥̥̪̠̜̘̿̑́̌͌̐̅͆͒͋̀̅̃͒̆̏̐͘͘͝͝L̸̢̤͎͓̖̤̖̯͚̭̦̞̩͚̦͙͇̓̉̓͌̑̾̅̈́̈̍͋̊̿̔͜͜ͅJ̶̡̧͈̻̗̣̖̦̥̙̺͓̩͎̱̲͎͔͖͖̩̏́͋͛̈́͛̽̄̇͊̕̕͘͝K̸̡̪͈̲̝̭̦̣̭͖̯̣͙̤̘̘̲͂̀̾͜ͅË̸̡̨̡̛̜̹̣̭͇̯̜̤̥̣͍͕̫͍̖̝́͗̇̉̋͐̉̀̈́̋́̃̅̀͝ͅD̶̛̤̀͘L̶̢̡̨̧̟̲͚͕̪͍̹̲̭͈͈̹̱̳̞̞̥̺͖̻͎̹̩͚̮̏̀͂̐͑́͗̔̊̆̃̒̈̆̋̃͂̾̍͒̓͘͜͠͠ͅK̶̨̛̫̳̖̥̫̟͓̠̣̘̠̱̪̰̣̥͍͙͇̓͊͆̒̌̍̊͆̉͑̓͗̎̂̾͆̔̈́̓̄̍̾͘̚͘͘̕͜͠͠͝
Takeda Aiko sat serenely in the middle of her pond. A lotus princess who just happened to be wearing gown of silver and, well, an extremely clean miner suit. The sleeves were cut along with the leggings. She was outnumbered, a regular occurrence. Seemingly outgunned, that depended on the day. And had woken up in a strange location without having any knowledge as to how she got there. Which really should have disturbed her but had happened so often over the course of recent history that it wasn't even surprising. Her smile slipped.
No! Stupid. She admonished herself. Forcing her smile back up and changing her line of thought back to wondering where she was.
"Who are you?" asked some bloke in fancy pants, a crisp, clean shirt, along with a few medals plastered on his chest. Must be a general of some sort. Kinda like the ol' captain of that vessel of a wandering minstrel.
What was their name again…ah well. I'll remember it later. But I swear, they both have the exact same bald spot right on the top of their heads!
She knew it was a bit of a hairy subject for him. How she knew, Aiko wasn't quite certain. Just like she knew that Dr. Meadows longed to see his children again. That Private Erucus, who had been there since she began to become aware, had a drinking problem. Dr. Colburn was madly in love with Councilwoman Yokund. It wasn't thoughts that she was picking up on. Not really. More of concepts. Ideals. Manifesting themselves as understandable notions and thoughts as her brain and machine picked them apart. One by one. Until they were properly stored and sorted in her leaking mind. Or was it sorted then stored?
Answering the question, Aiko said, "Takeda Aiko."
"Well then, Ms. Aiko…"
"Takeda."
"Hm?"
"My surname is Takeda."
"Ah, my apologies. Ms. Takeda, I am Admiral Brett Tev. Would you do us the incredible favor of accompanying us and answering a few questions?"
"Of course! I'd be delighted to enlighten. Just a moment."
"Certainly, but what…" he voice trailed away. Aiko couldn't blame him. It took some time getting used to. Behind her, the liquid silver was flowing and crawling up the cryochamber. Encasing it just as it had encased her. With a rumble and scream of metal that had some marine looking fellows whipping up weapons while people in lab coats plugged their ears. But nothing prepared them for watching her armor devour the cryochamber. Crushing it into a malleable pulp before, what wasn't needed, was stored, flat within the pool. The rest fed into the insatiable hunger that was power. Out flowed a sphere. Her core. Smiling as fondly as she could, Aiko scooped up the sphere into her arms. Sheets of silver still flowed down to the pool. Connecting the antimatter reactor to the rest of the system.
"Well then," she said as remarking on the weather, "I've had a good meal for half of me. Would you have some food for the other half. I would adore some tea too." Aiko flowed forward. Not rising from her pool, far too early for that. The silver bore her forward towards the exit.
Without missing a beat, the Admiral said, "right this way, Ms. Takeda."
The Good Doctor
"Takeda Aiko," the woman said again as Reginald watched the camera footage from the relative safety of a security office one hundred yards down from the armored meeting room that Councilwoman Lashenta and Admiral Tev were sitting in. Gabi had, after making sure that none of Reginald's ribs were cracked, who was the doctor here thank you very much, begged to attend. The awakened sign of life from the Phoenix Nebula had delighted her beyond all belief. However, given that, whatever that silver stuff was, had easily eaten an entire hunk of metal. Testing to see if it would just as easily eat living beings was not something that the council was thrilled to find out. And so, to risk as little life as possible but give the guest all due respect possible, the meeting was chaired by the two leaders of this little project. Leaving the rest of the staff clustered in said security room.
Reginald couldn't make her out. She sat serene and calm in the face of overwhelming firepower. Nearly crushed his bones. And rattled off quips as breathing. All within the first five minutes. Now she sat upon her steed of devouring silver after having equally scarfed down two platters of food with indecent abandon. Nursing a mug of green tea.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Lashenta smiled, "if I may, I'll get straight to the point. Have you ever been to the Phoenix Nebula?"
Takeda's smile seemed to flicker for a moment on the screen, "suppose I have."
Everyone started in some way back in the Security office. Gabi outright jumped to her feat. Reginald frowned. He wasn't sure how to take it. Certainly, it was what the Resistance hoped for but…did he really want whatever was there coming out? The Mindfire, certainly. It saved the galaxy. Absolutely necessary. But, what if the dreams of man of this place was truthfully their doom. He made himself smile though as Gabi looked down at him with the light of adventure in her eyes.
"What do you want with it," Takeda stated. Unphased by the reactions she couldn't see and unperturbed by the measured excitement emanating from the Admiral and Councilwoman.
"To use it to help all races across the galaxy," Lashenta exclaimed, "to ensure that everyone can enjoy their rights and freedoms of beings!"
"Wasn't the Mindfire enough?"
"I…what if it isn't next time? How did you survive the Khuvix infestation?"
"How scandalous! Looking at a lady's brain. How incredibly rude of you! Boorish I, daresay. Unlike the boars you are, I showed all the refined delicacies of a noble lady and ate it."
Reginald blinked.
"You…ate?" Lashenta murmured.
"Well, not exactly. Didn't get the flavor of it, but I bet it tastes like chicken. My mechanical half ripped it apart once the foreign matter entered my head. Broke down its parts. Analyzed it for usable proteins. Then introduced them into my body. And disposed of the rest."
"I see…"
"Not too repeatable for most others, right? So why the dear Phoenix?"
"I'm certain you've heard of the Empire."
"Of course, the delightful vessel, the Blunderin' Minstrel…"
"The
INS Troubador," Admiral Tev cut in.
"It's what I said," evaded Takeda, "but yah. Imma tiny bit familiar with that one nation."
"It's quite a bit more than just…"
"Yah, whatever."
Reginald noted the steady change in tone. Ms. Takeda had become more withdrawn. Eyes starting to narrow.
"Give me a few days. To think about it," she continued.
"Of course," Lashenta grasped on the opening, "we'll set up a room for you while…"
"The room I stopped dreaming will do fine." Takeda rose to her feet. Moving towards the doors. The silver flowing about her feet and rising in bubble-like spires around her.
"Dreaming?"
Silence thicker than split-pea soup held for a second. "Even if I choose to help, there are holes in my mind. I will not have a blueprint to your Phoenix. Send your doctors to see if you please." Takeda walked out the door.
Everyone was silent. Reginald was pondering what she almost said before leaving. Suddenly, Gabi was moving. "I have to talk to her. I'll convince her, don't worry!"
"Wait, Gabi, I don't think that…and she's gone.
Gabi
The hallway was empty by the time Gabi made it out. There was only one place Aiko would have gone. A few moments later she had arrived outside the room where the dome was housed and knocked loudly. "Aiko? Can I come in, please?" she called through the steel.
Aiko lay back on a forming bed. Cushioned by the molding metal. The room was perfectly barren but not absolutely isolated from spontaneous intruders who wished to intrude upon her solitude. There wasn't any particular reason to deny further pesterings from these Resistance people. Even if was just after brushing them off. She flicked her mind and a tendril of silver slithered over to the door controls. Taking a moment to arrange her face into a humanly pleasant one, she let the door open with a, "I believe that I am Takeda, Miss…"
"Just Gabi. No miss is necessary," she said as she stepped inside. She eyed the silver warily for a moment before looking at Aiko. "I just wanted to check in on you. I'm sure all of this must be very strange."
"Hmm, Gabi, then. And no, people wanting something from me is not very strange. Just happens that you all seem a bit less…desperate? Despairing? Terrified, though maddeningly driven? And a good deal more eager? Excited? Hormone high?"
Gabi could feel herself blushing but chose to ignore the last comment. She shrugged. "A lot has changed for the Resistance since you've been asleep. We have our ship back. We found you. There are…things to be hopeful about, I suppose." She paused. "If you could have anything, go anywhere, right this second, what would you do?" she asked.
"Who ever said that I was talking about the Resistance? If I can recall… Can I? Yes, I can recall this: you've always been a hopeful bunch. Hope is what you lot thrive on. Devour it as sure as sure. Even at the height of the despair caused by the Paranoia war, you ate enough hope to be bloated. Would you feed it to me too? Tell me, Gabi, why should I trust in this hope?" Aiko ignored the girl's question. Her own dreams were forgotten nightmares.
Gabi smiled faintly. "Hope was my uncle's driving force. It isn't mine." She paused and looked away. "I trust the people on this base more than anything else, and I want to keep them safe from anyone who would harm them."
Aiko flipped upside down. The machine flowing up in an arching crescent like a comical parody of a gallows with the woman hanging by one foot with her best jester's smile in place. Arms crossed, she said "then you'd better stay away from burning birds! Stars and their remains were never safe places for children to play."
"We're not playing a game here. Neither is the Navy," she replied quietly, eyeing the gallows with a neutral expression. She was doing her best not to show discomfort.
Cocking her head, she let the thread snap. Falling headfirst into the pool of silver below. Which was only about a foot deep. Yet the machine caught her with delicate precision. Gently rotating and raising her until she was flat on her back and a mere foot away from Gabi's face. Eyes flashing with delight. "Really? I know we're playing a game. Some just have sticks so far up their butts that they call it work. Buuut, to bring our conversation to the rear-end I'll consider what you want me to declare. Call that more than fair? Course, it's fairly clear you'd enjoy a carnival of a time with someone before the sails are set and anchors be away! So hold fast! Nebulas be choppy sailing. G'day!"
Gabi couldn't help it - she gaped at Aiko for a moment. How on earth could one person be so utterly nonsensical and terrifying at the same time? She started to turn away to leave, but at the last second she turned back and said, in a rare moment of honesty, "I would, and I'd do anything to protect him. You're here now, whether you like it or not. Maybe you'll find something worth protecting, too." She turned away and let herself out, honestly having no idea if their conversation had had any impact on Aiko at all.
The Good Doctor
Reginald had just gotten the memo stating that he would be a part of the team to set sail with the
Cotopaxi. To go on the legendary search for the Pheonix Nebula. If they could just convince Ms. Takeda to come along, everything would be perfect. Nodding to the guards, he knocked on her door.
'There are holes in my mind.' It wooshed open.
Takeda sat in her silver pool. Seemingly preening herself in the reflection of great sheets of liquid mirror that sat as three great fans. Lit by a warm light emanating from the large sphere that she had held onto all throughout her initial interview. Her eyes caught his reflection and, with a staged gasp so obvious as to be worthy of an elementary school play, she whirled to face him while seated. "Dr. Reginald Meadows! Coming to call so suddenly, a girl can hardly be ready for such intrusion."
"I did knock," he dryly replied. Inwardly, he frowned. Reginald felt fairly certain that he had not given her name his first name. Nor had anyone else. Although, she seemed to know a good deal about things nobody talked about.
"Oh of course! So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Reginald gestured at the medical equipment that was wheeling in on his remote commands. "Just a general check-up, Ms. Takeda."
"And to see if I really do have holes in my brain."
"Yes…that too. It is a rather concerning claim."
"Indeed, it is a mindful to consider. Well, get on getting on. I'll just sit here, minding my own heady business and whatnot."
"Right…" Naturally, she continued to stare at him with a slight twinkle in her eye. Waiting for him to step closer. Onto her domain. With a step that he couldn't pretend to not hesitate about, Reginald did so. Her smile broadened. He got to work. Checking eyes, ears, throat, blood pressure, breathing, heart, etc. As he went, he talked. Trying to pry a bit into the patient before him.
"So, where are you from?"
"Doctor! Asking a girl where she comes from already? How scandalous. Try asking that Council Lady Wig Lashamashten or whatever. Or that other Doctor Woman. Might have better luck there. Better age too! I'm much too young for you!"
"You are dodging the question. Now, for your medical history, answer the stormin' question."
"Aiyah, such a sharp remark! No wonder you're so popular. So kind, so caring. Yet that spiny shell cries of a soul in need of saving! Oh such pain!" Posing dramatically with each phrase.
"Girl," Reginald bore on, undeterred, "stop flailing and answer the…" He trailed off. The image from the brain scan just popped up onto the monitor. He knew that Takeda had strange black masses in her body that still could not be properly resolved. But he was not prepared to see four thin spikes jabbing straight into her brain. One was, indeed, right into her hippocampus.
"So, tell me, Doc, what's the prognosis? Terminal? Fatal? Should I apply as an extra for that one zombie show. Shambling Dead?" Her voice was light and airy. But she wasn't looking at Dr. Meadows. He also noted that the silver mirrors were now bubbling, making it impossible to get a glimpse of her face. "How's the ol' Hippo remembering? Parietal's feeling fine? Bet the Occipital is looking alright. I know the Temporal is tempted for a good ball of mochi, so that must be fine. Right?"
"You've seen this before," he realized aloud.
"But of course!" she laughed, "you're not the first doctor to peer into this girl's brain. Well, I think I'm as fit as a fiddle, as your results no doubt tell. Good check-up Doc! Play poker with ya later."
It was true. All his scans came back reporting a healthy young woman. Oddities were numerous. Blacked out bones, heart, parts of lung, spikes in her brain. Just to name a few. But the fact remained that she was healthy too. Too healthy to reasonably detain her for more tests. Yet. The word sterilized popped up into his mind again. Even then, he had enough reports to keep him quite busy for quite some time. He rose. Deciding not to press on her medical history for today. "Right…I'll send you the results tomorrow."
She waved him off. Evidently bored of teasing him.
It wasn't until Reginald was halfway out of the base before he realized that he had never mentioned that he played poker.
The Ą̵̧̫̥̗͉̪̙̱̩̙̺͖͉̘͉͉̪͕̹̣̖͙͂̀̀̇̈́̑͊̔́͒̊̇͒̐̇͆̓̑̚͜͠͝͝͠Ç̴̢̛̛͕̥̥̪̠̜̘̿̑́̌͌̐̅͆͒͋̀̅̃͒̆̏̐͘͘͝͝L̸̢̤͎͓̖̤̖̯͚̭̦̞̩͚̦͙͇̓̉̓͌̑̾̅̈́̈̍͋̊̿̔͜͜ͅJ̶̡̧͈̻̗̣̖̦̥̙̺͓̩͎̱̲͎͔͖͖̩̏́͋͛̈́͛̽̄̇͊̕̕͘͝K̸̡̪͈̲̝̭̦̣̭͖̯̣͙̤̘̘̲͂̀̾͜ͅË̸̡̨̡̛̜̹̣̭͇̯̜̤̥̣͍͕̫͍̖̝́͗̇̉̋͐̉̀̈́̋́̃̅̀͝ͅD̶̛̤̀͘L̶̢̡̨̧̟̲͚͕̪͍̹̲̭͈͈̹̱̳̞̞̥̺͖̻͎̹̩͚̮̏̀͂̐͑́͗̔̊̆̃̒̈̆̋̃͂̾̍͒̓͘͜͠͠ͅK̶̨̛̫̳̖̥̫̟͓̠̣̘̠̱̪̰̣̥͍͙͇̓͊͆̒̌̍̊͆̉͑̓͗̎̂̾͆̔̈́̓̄̍̾͘̚͘͘̕͜͠͠͝
Aiko was alone. Centered in a sphere of outward silver. Inside, of course, no light shone. It was her only method of actually ensuring privacy. Whether this 'Resistance' was as high minded about people's freedoms or not, she had no idea. Gabi wanted her to believe it. Then again, everyone seemed to want her to believe something or other. Be it Gabi, Admiral Tev, Dr. Meadows, that one council lady, the ol' captain, the ghosts in her head…
Resistance…Résistance…Kashdtok what are they resisting anyway. she stalled.
The might of the Empire. Why? To gain individual rights for all people across the galaxy. Form a new government. Yadiyadiyada.
The dark closed in around her as her stalling thoughts died. Her breath hitched. Nothing could separate herself from it. Nothing was left. Not that there was much separating her from it, when she woke up, to begin with. The beginning of the truth was full in her face, but the ends were beyond her sight. Not that it mattered. It held enough of the end to make her curl up into a shivering ball of dread and panic.
"I don't want to go!"
It's time to go.
"I don't want to!"
Isn't it time to stop? Stop running?
"I just want… I don't want! Nonono!"
Running only killed them. You killed them. Coward. At least you shot some.
"No! I didn't want…! No!"
It's time to stop.
She screamed. Wanting to tear. Wanting to shred. And knowing, ultimately, how pointless it all was. That to even attempt would be pointless. Eventually, her violent shivering subsided. Her tears stopped. Aiko uncurled herself and formed a light and a compact mirror inside her sphere. A mess of a face greeted her bloodshot eyes.
"Clean it up," she commented. The suit obliged. Molding out from her pores. Wiping every tear stain from her face. Prepping it to smile. The bloodshot eyes would need a bit of time to return to normal. Nothing she could do about it. For now. Idly, Aiko wondered if she could get a look at all the medical documentation on humanity.
Well, something like that will be necessary.
The path wasn't clear, but it existed anyway. She ran through all the things she would need from everyone to succeed. The bloodshot eyes eventually faded. Aiko rose, unfurling free of her sphere of isolation, walked over to the door, and opened it to peek a grin out to the soldiers standing guard. "Say, could ya get me that one lady? Lashy or whoever. Council bigwig. I have something I want to tell her."
One conversation and smuggling later, Aiko lounged about her personal room on the
Cotopaxi. Personal to keep her existence just a bit more secret as the final preparations were complete. Personal because she demanded it. Aiko looked in the compact mirror. The void stared back. She sighed. Time to practice. Her doom lay in what they called the Phoenix Nebula after all. A horrible name.
