Sac'a'rith (28 page)

I gasped as I walked inside. It was filled with implants far more advanced than I’d even heard of. The rumors about this place weren’t exaggerated at all; if anything, they were understated. I moved excitedly through the aisles of holographic displays, reading each one and telling Purwryn what we were looking at.

“Wow, this one has a hundred times the memory of mine!” I exclaimed.

“Really?” he asked.

“And look at this: nano-rebreathers!” I said. On and on the aisles went, with seemingly an infinite number of options. It was overwhelming and beyond description.

“I thought we were here to look at spare parts?” Purwryn gently reminded me.

“Sure, but I’ve never seen anything like this stuff before,” I said.

“Why would a hospital have all this? Much of this stuff would never be medically necessary,” said Purwryn.

“True, but this station represents the height of medical technology for the region, and many people come here looking for the best of whatever they want. From what I’m told, it’s partly how the station has funded its operations all these years.”

I attempted to bring myself back to the task at hand, as I really did need to replace some of my tools and parts. I didn’t bother to look at the price tags on the equipment; I knew it would be well out of my range, especially since I was now unemployed. I would have to talk to Purwryn about that at some point. If I was going to serve with this crew, I should receive some kind of payment.

I found an order station and punched in my list, gasping a little as the total came up. The prices were fair, but I hadn’t realized just how much I’d lost.

“Hey, don’t worry about the bill,” said Purwryn.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Master Raquel gave me a credit account which will cover all your medical needs,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Your medical needs will be covered completely by the Wizard Kingdom as long as you are in active service. Now, before you get any funny ideas, a rebreather is not a medical need.”

I chuckled. “No, I guess not, unless we can arrange an underwater mission.”

“Is that everything you need?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I said. I knew it was exactly what I needed, but I found that making uncertain statements instead of precise ones helped me to blend in with primitives more easily. I also worked hard to make sure any external signs of my implants were either disguised or covered by my clothing, so that no primitive could guess what I was. It was remarkably simple to blend in, but one tiny mistake would spell the end of my cover for good.

“Great. I’ll have this delivered to the Night Wisp,” he said.

Once that was done, it was time to head to Dr. Hawthorne’s office for my appointment. I wasn’t sure what to expect after seeing what was in that shop. Would they look at my apparently obsolete implants and pity me? Would they push all kinds of upgrades I couldn’t afford but would desperately desire? I took some deep breaths as we entered the private office where the consultation would take place.

The office had several chairs organized in a semicircle around a small table. Another chair and terminal were close by. Behind the table was a large wall that seemed designed for a monitor but was empty. It was obvious by the layout where we were expected to sit, so we took our places
in the chairs.

Purwryn looked over at me. “Do you want me to stay? This could get kind of personal.”

I raced through my memory net looking for an appropriate response. I’d never had a primitive friend before, at least not since evolving beyond them, but I knew there were certain expected responses. Failing to find any, I went with my one of my default replies. “Oh, I guess so. I’m sure it’s not going to be very exciting.”

“Marcus, ‘exciting’ would be bad in this kind of meeting,” he said with a grin.

We had no more time to talk, as Dr. Hawthorne had just entered. When formal introductions had been made, the doctor said, “Marcus, I wanted you to come out here for this appointment because I’m concerned about some of your implants. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

I held up my hand to stop him. I didn’t want a sales spiel. “Doctor, just as you know your hand is fine, I can tell my implants are all in good condition and operating within their tolerances. Mostly, at least.”

He smiled. “I understand, but just as I wouldn’t know that a cut on my hand was infected until it became bad enough to cause problems, you wouldn’t yet see what we can observe.”

“What are you getting at?” I asked.

“I’ll show you,” he said, pressing a button on his terminal. The wall behind him shimmered briefly and then changed to a diagnostic readout of my implants. It was easy for me to recognize; I’d seen the same chart many times over in my life. I could even pull up a version of it and overlay my vision if I so chose. The only difference was that the large scale of his display allowed the display of far more detail than I was used to seeing.

Dr. Hawthorne got up from his chair and walked over to the wall. “I’m sure you’ve seen this before, but for Purwryn’s information this is a diagnostic readout of all Marcus’ implants. With this, Marcus, we can tell the exact condition of every part of your body, even the unenhanced areas. As you said, everything is operating within reasonable parameters for devices of this age and type.”

“I see,” said Purwryn. He probably understood a lot of what he saw, as it wasn’t very different to readouts from the testing gear he had used back on the Paradise to diagnose problems with the robots we maintained. “But if everything is within normal parameters, what’s the issue?”

The doctor returned to his terminal and used the controls to isolate parts of the screen. “These implants are already beyond their life expectancy, and those are nearing the end of their lives.” He changed the screen to bring up a network map of the wiring in my body that supported the implants. “Also, several main routes in this wiring show signs of being ready to fail. It’s likely that in the near future some or all of them will fail.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means you have three options,” said Dr. Hawthorne, returning to his seat in front of us. “First, you can walk out of here and do nothing. I think you’d be fine for a while, but sooner or later some of these are going to fail, and you might not be anywhere near this facility when that happens. That could leave you crippled or worse until you could get help. Second, we could replace the failing parts, but that would require extensive work, as we’d have to upgrade much of your control network to handle the replacements.” The doctor paused there.

“And the third option?” I asked.

The doctor smiled. “We could send you through the gate back to the Wizard Kingdom where, with the help of Master Kellyn, we could remove all the implants and make you a normal human again.”

“That’s not possible. Too much of my former body is gone; besides, I was a cripple before getting these implants.” Even if it were possible, the thought disgusted me.

“It is possible. Master Kellyn could regrow all your missing … parts, and you wouldn’t be a cripple. You’d be a healthy human being with all your limbs fully functional,” said Dr. Hawthorne.

“Wow.” Medical science had really moved on in the years since I’d last been in the hospital. I’d never heard of a Cyborg being able to go back; it was always assumed to be a permanent upgrade. But, despite what Dr. Hawthorne said, I would be a cripple compared to my current state. It was inconceivable for a Cyborg to even consider it. “How long would it take to replace my implants?”

“We’d have to put you in sleep mode for a couple of days, and you would be kept on restricted duty for a week or so while we monitored the acceptance process. After that, we’d want to see you again in a few months to make sure all was still good.”

“What do you think, Purwryn?” I asked. I knew we had a deadline, due to the upcoming mission.

“I could no more suggest you remove your implants and go back to being an ordinary human than I would consider going back to being a mundane. I think you should have the repairs done,” he said.

I smiled. I hadn’t considered that angle before; as a magus, he could understand how I felt about going back to being a primitive. I wondered if I needed to create a third class of people: Cyborgs, primitives and now magi. I needed more data to determine how different they really were. Powerful and dangerous, yes, but were they different where it mattered? Could they see beyond the here and now and comprehend a wider view of events, unfolding everywhere at once?

“Doctor, how much will it cost?” I asked.

“I deem this medically necessary, and you’re currently deployed with the Wizard Kingdom on a military operation, so it will cost you nothing. Your medical care is covered completely.”

Amazed, I looked over at Purwryn, who immediately said, “No, we’re still not going to pay for a rebreather.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Why he was fixated on that specific part I couldn’t tell, but it was entertaining. I was tempted to make a play for one just to see his reaction. “What about the mission deadline?”

“We’d better check with Zah’rak about that. Worst case scenario is that we come back after the mission and have it done then.”

I waited outside the room while the Resden agent was interrogating Purwryn. When he was finished it would be my turn, and then it was off to surgery. Zah’rak decided that, since Phareon had left us hanging, there was no reason not to have the surgery done right away. If Phareon tried to move up the timeline, he’d simply refuse until I was ready. I think he’d enjoy the opportunity to do just that. I wondered why he disliked them so much; there had to be some history there, but I hadn’t discovered it yet.

To occupy myself while I waited, I reviewed my mission notes so far. Purwryn had all the marks of a maker. He’d quickly picked up on all the technology involved with my implants and expertly performed the maintenance, despite having no training in them whatsoever. I decided that I’d try to convince him to purchase some enhancements; maybe just a memory net or neural interface to start, something to whet his appetite. We could use more like him, and once he became drawn to enhancements he could probably design his own and advance the industry as a whole.

I could hear everything going on in the interview through the walls, thanks to my enhanced hearing. The agent was pushing Purwryn hard. Purwryn didn’t seem to have experience dealing with a professional interrogator and wasn’t doing well under the pressure. Raquel jumped in several times and warned the agent to back off.

The agent didn’t like being corralled, but Raquel wasn’t a woman who could be pushed around. I couldn’t see through the walls, but I was sure she squared up to him and enjoyed putting him in his place. Raquel was definitely a natural-born leader. She also seemed to live for competition, and was definitely showing the Resden agent that she was more than able for anything he could dish out.

I knew Zah’rak was in there, but he didn’t say much. He was a warrior all the way through. Of all the kinds of primitives I’d discovered in my travels, his subtype was the easiest to understand: give him a weapon and a target and let him be. The warrior type didn’t like management, and worked best when left alone. The only problem with them was that they fared poorly during peacetime. Warriors tended to get restless and often got themselves into trouble. He was more controlled than most of those I’d come across, but we were still on an active mission. It remained to be seen how he’d react to a time of peace.

While I waited, I looked through my memory net and tried to find anything that might give the Resden agent reason to force extradition, flagging it not to mention. I had no idea who was after Purwryn or why the agents were after him now. That much was the truth. If I just stuck to that part of the story, I should be fine.

Purwryn came out looking very shaken. He said, “Okay, you’re up. Bit of advice, don’t answer any questions unless Raquel gives you the go-ahead. He kept trying to trip me up with questions designed to trick me into saying things that weren’t true.”

“I’ve dealt with his type before, but thanks for the warning,” I said. I ran a program I had stored in my memory net which kept my expression perfectly neutral. I usually let my face display a normal range of emotions, as it made primitives more comfortable, but this wasn’t a time to risk giving anything away.

Inside the room were a table and several chairs. Zah’rak was there in full battle armor, including his swords and other weapons. He was physically impressive for a primitive, and even unarmed was more than a match for the human Resden agent, or indeed any other human. I was glad he was there because his sheer physical presence would keep the agent from doing anything stupid.

Raquel was in her body armor, which was by far the most impressive armor I’d ever seen. The nanotechnology it employed was centuries beyond anything we had out there. Like the battle wizards, she was completely unarmed. My file on her described her as perhaps the most dangerous person alive in this sector. She was a ‘person of interest’ on whom I was to gather as much information as possible, but so far she’d seemed fairly normal. There was no sign of her supposed power and strength.

The Resden agent was dressed in formal business attire and looked like the perfect clone of every other government agent. He didn’t stand as I entered; instead, he gestured at the chair in front of him. I looked at Raquel who nodded, and I sat and waited silently.

“Marcus,” the agent said, “your history shows many great debts which were recently paid off.”

I kept my eyes locked on his and didn’t say anything. I hoped my emotionless demeanor would frustrate him.

“Since the money was paid back, you haven’t gone into debt. Why is that?” he asked.

“I learned my lesson about debt, and no longer spend more than I make,” I said, keeping my voice monotone and to a precisely perfect rhythm. When he played a recording of this interview later on, he would struggle to hear any hint in my voice as to whether or not I was telling the truth and he would find nothing. I hoped he was not the type to give up easily and that he would struggle with it for days on end, even losing sleep over it.