Specimen (22 page)

Unlike my condition when I was here before, I’m alert and ready for anything.  I could have taken them all down before the door was shut, but I did nothing.  My hands shake, wanting the fight, but I just sit in the chair, motionless, as thoughts of escape continue to pound through my head.

Hours pass.

This shouldn’t be taking so long.  Where is Riley, and what is being done or said to her?  Was coming here a horrible mistake?  I’m sure Merle will want to talk to us, but from what Anna said, he’s not here.  How far away is he, and what might happen in the meantime?

My patience is wearing thin.  I’m having an increasingly difficult time not acting on the instructions running though my head.  I’m near the breaking point when someone opens the door.

The soldiers are instantly alert and pointing their rifles at me again.  The grey-haired gentleman is just outside the hall, and he tells them to bring me along.

The restraints on my legs are removed, and they take me to a large office.  Riley is there along with Anna Jarvis and Merle Hudson.

“You can remove the restraints.”  Merle waves a hand in my direction.

I twist my hands, grab hold of the thin metal, and rip them off.  I hand them to the soldier next to me, staring him down in the process.

“Do I make my point?” I ask him harshly.

He glares at me as he tentatively takes the broken restraints from my hand, and Riley comes up to me and looks me over.

“Are you all right?” she asks in a hushed tone.

“I’m fine.”  I look from her to Merle, who sits at the meeting table with the others.

“Please, Galen,” Merle says, “have a seat.”

We join him silently, and Riley reaches under the table to squeeze my hand.

“Dr. Grace has told us all about your escape from the Mills medical facility,” Merle says.  “Honestly, it’s considerably more than I had hoped for.  It was far more likely that you would either be repaired, which would remove your memories again, or be destroyed.”

“I have Riley to thank for that.”

“So I gather.”  Merle leans back in his chair.  “Are you hungry, Galen?  Thirsty?  Riley’s been tended to, but I doubt you were.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“I realize that,” he says, “but do you
want
anything?”

“I
want
to not be locked up again.”

“I understand, and I apologize for that,” Merle says.  “Security can get a little…overzealous.  Realize it’s for the good of us all.”

I stare at him, not responding.

“Errol should be here shortly,” Anna says.  “He’s looking over the diagnostic file Riley provided.”

“He’s comparing it to the last diagnostic he took himself,” Riley tells me.  “He wants to determine for sure how much of the degradation you experienced when you were here before is due to the absence of the drugs in your system, a defect in the device itself, or due to…what they did to you.”

“Trying to freeze information out of me.”

“I can understand your anger,” the older man says, “but you must realize the position we’re in.  You weren’t exactly expected.”

“Galen,” Merle says, “this is Donald Cross.  He’s the head of this facility.”

“I’ve already reviewed the reports on the information obtained during your last visit here,” Cross says.

I hadn’t been sure where I was held the last time, but now I know it was this very facility.  The holding cell is the same, and there are several buildings nearby that could have been the warehouse where I was tortured.

“Your ability to withstand extreme conditions is remarkable.”  Cross has a big smile on his face, and I clench my hand into a fist.

“You mean, I did a nice job of not breaking when you tortured me.”

Cross stiffens at the words.  He doesn’t like being confronted, and I am almost positive he is the one who ordered the soldiers to abuse me.

“We needed to understand your limits,” he says simply.

“I suggest you keep any of those involved in testing my ‘limits’ away from me from now on.”

Cross stops smiling and narrows his eyes at me.

“If it makes you feel better, you put that poor young man in the hospital earlier today.”

“That ‘poor young man’ drove nails into my legs.”

Riley tightens her grip on my hand.

“This isn’t productive,” Merle says as he reaches over and places his hand on the table in front of Cross, gives him a stern look, and then comes back to me.  “What was done to you shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t happen again.”

I take a deep breath and lace my fingers through Riley’s.  Being next to her is already affecting me, and I relax into the chair just as Errol Spat walks in.

“Did I miss the party?” he asks with a big grin.  He takes a seat between Merle and Anna.

“Just getting started,” Merle says.  “I’ve been reassuring Galen that there won’t be any repeats of the past.”

“Well, I have a shit-ton of data at this point,” Errol says.  His words are accompanied by a lot of animated gestures, and he nearly pokes Merle in the head a few times.  “I can say for sure that all the programming that went into the anti-torture subroutines functioned as expected.  Cooling the implants had a definite effect, but the result was a shutdown of all processes, so you still can’t get information out of them that way.”

I stiffen and glare in Errol’s direction, and he gives me a half smile.

“Just sayin’.”  He looks down at his notes and continues.  “I don’t think any of that led to the breakdown of the implant, either.  The symbiotic relationship between the mechanical implants and the hormones and other drug treatments was the definite cause.”

“That was expected,” Riley says.  “We know they can’t go long without FOG; it’s the basis for the bridge between the organic brain and the cybernetic system.”

“Exactly.”  He points a finger at Riley.  “Which is where you come in.  Tell me something about the compound you’re taking.”

“Hormones and pheromones,” Riley says.  “The injection is designed to further the bond between doctor and specimen.”

“But yours are different, aren’t they?”

Riley shuffles in her seat a bit.

“Slightly.”

“I thought the differences in your methods had to do with the component chemicals introduced into the specimens.”  Anna tilts her head and looks at Riley.

“There was a change to my compound as well.”

“What kind of change?”

Riley looks back and forth between Anna and me before answering.

“I introduced bombykol into my system,” she says, “and programmed his implants to detect it and react.”

“Isn’t that a moth pheromone?”

“Yes.”  Riley lets out a frustrated sigh.  “I used that one because it’s one of the strongest and most easily synthesized.  The type didn’t matter, as long as the speci…as long as Galen reacted to it.”

“You tried to turn me into a moth?”  I can’t help it; I laugh out loud.

“Technically, I turned myself into a moth.”

“She made you have a thing for moths.”  Errol laughs as well.

“You do realize it has upset your own balances as well, don’t you?” Anna asks.

“Of course,” Riley says.  “I understood the risk, and it’s not unprecedented.  Shark DNA is a component of FOG as well, to boost the immune systems of the specimens.”

“You took a lot of liberties.”

“I had a job to do.”  Riley is clearly on the defensive and doesn’t see any humor in the topic.  “I’m not going to try to justify my reasons for altering the treatments now.  The whole project is…just wrong.”

There’s a long pause.  I don’t have a clear understanding of the technical and medical side of what everyone is saying, and I don’t have anything to add.  I rub my thumb over the edge of Riley’s hand, trying to comfort her.

“Well…back to my point,” Errol says.  “It’s the bond, for lack of a better word, that caused the initial breakdown, but there was more to it than that.  Originally, I thought there was a defect in the implant itself, and I still do, but that’s not the main issue here.”

“What is?” Cross asks.

“His implant has changed.  It no longer matches the same specifications it originally had.  This might have started in the defect itself, but it…well, it grew from there.”

“Grew?”  Riley glances from Errol to me.

“It’s weird, and it really shouldn’t happen.”

“Am I going to sprout moth wings?”  I have to press my lips together not to laugh.

Errol doesn’t hold back.  His belly laugh shakes the table, but Riley continues to scowl.

“No insect-like changes just yet,” Errol says, “but if you start shoving your tongue into flowers at night, let me know.”

I glance at Riley sideways and run my tongue over my lips.  She blushes and pulls her hand away.

“Would you please get on with it?”  Donald Cross is also unamused at the turn the conversation has taken.

“So, here’s how it works.”  Errol presses a button on his tablet and a three-dimensional holographic image appears in the center of the table.  It’s a collection of slightly curved circuit boards, all lined up to fit together in a pattern.  “This is the structure of the primary implant.  The individual pieces are connected through living brain tissue.  The implants themselves are bio-organics, and they have the ability to repair themselves if needed.  That’s how they should work, anyway, but Galen’s are different.”

Riley sits up straighter and leans forward to get a better look as part of the hologram lights up in red.

“You see these strands?” Errol says.  “They’re very small—almost undetectable—but they’re there, and they aren’t part of the design.  His brain is connecting to the implants in completely new ways.  The repair design seems to have gone into overload, and it’s created new connections.  I can’t even tell what they’re doing.”

“Is that why I remember who I am, and the others don’t?”

“I don’t think so,” Errol says.  “That has to do with the original defect—there’s something mechanically wrong with the memory net.  Basically, there’s always been a hole in it; it’s just gotten bigger as you remembered more.  Eventually, it broke down completely.”

“So, what is it doing?” Riley asks.  “What information is being transmitted through the new connections?”

“I can’t tell exactly,” Errol says, “but considering how everything is connected, I think it all has to do with you.  I know the specimens are all supposed to bond with their doctors so you can control them, but this…this is way beyond that.”

I watch Riley’s reaction, but she doesn’t look at me.  She stares at the hologram, transfixed.  I reach over and take her hand again, but she doesn’t move.

I don’t know what to think of the information Errol Spat has provided.

“They’re supposed to be emotionless,” Anna says.  She directs Errol to highlight a different part of the implant.  “All of these connections are targeting his amygdala and hippocampus—the emotional centers of the brain.”

“Those should be shut down chemically,” Errol says.  “Only rage and aggression are supposed to remain.”

“Galen’s not emotionless though, is he?”  Anna looks between Riley and me, and Riley shakes her head.

A hard ball forms in my stomach and works its way up to my chest.  I don’t want to hear any more of this.  I know where it’s leading, and I don’t want anyone telling me some malfunction in the implant is the reason I love Riley.

“Let’s get back to the real question here,” Cross says.  “Can we remove the implants?”

“Not a chance,” Errol says.  “There’s no way to do that without killing him.  We can, however, render them inert.  It’s a better solution anyway since removal requires access to the specimens and actual surgery.  Making the implants inactive is something we can design and potentially be able to activate remotely.”

“You want to give me an off switch?”  I stare at Errol.

“We want to determine if you can be reverted to the way you were before you were forced into Project Mindstorm,” Anna says.

“The information your diagnostics provided us with is very helpful, Galen,” Merle says.  “If we can understand how to turn it off or reverse it, we can fix the other men in your position.”

“I can’t help you fight a war if you change me back.”

“Is there even a war?”  Merle raises his hands and tilts them upward in an exaggerated shrug.  “There are attacks on supply lines, cyber battles over intelligence information, but there hasn’t been an actual hostile takeover of any territory for years.  That’s why Project Mindstorm is so important to Mills.”

“He’s right,” Riley says.  “That was the whole idea behind it—create a small group of soldiers who can get behind enemy lines and do major damage.  Mills has the more advanced technology, but the Carson Alliance has always had the resources and the numbers to counter offensive movements.”

“The Carson Alliance and the Mills Conglomerate have been at a stalemate for a decade,” Merle says.  “Project Mindstorm is the first real threat either side has developed since the beginning.  It’s the first real offensive advantage for Mills, which is why we can’t let it be successful.”