What a raw deal to be called in at this hour, he thought. But something had gone wrong and the new kid was having seizures. This happened sometimes, and Whit knew there were only a few options left to him. Though he had worked in medicine for years, he had only been at this facility a few weeks. It was no hospital.
***
The image slipped away from the back of Penny’s closed eyes. Next, she began to hear voices inside the cavernous building, but could not detect the direction from which they came. Somehow she knew it was a doctor and another man, an auditor or an investor, maybe.
“What does it do?”
The other answered like an advertisement. “Have you ever imagined your mind transplanted into another body, sir? Have you ever wanted to be two places at once? To attend to everything in your environment, down to the slightest detail, without being utterly overwhelmed? Have you ever wanted to know exactly which strings to pull in order to influence someone else---to make them forget something you’d rather they didn’t think of again, or to call up some distant memory that it would have otherwise been impossible for them to remember?
"This is our attempt. By rearranging the connections between neurons--- by redirecting the course of a developing brain---that’s what it does.”
“Why?”
“Why, progress! Expanding human possibility, understanding one of the most complex systems in our universe. We may use it to better ourselves, but also to harness the potential of these otherwise hapless Naturals who don’t understand their talents and cannot refine them and apply them in a useful way. It could also prove a helpful tool in quashing rebellion, should it ever arise.”
The auditor thought a moment. His voice came back much older than the doctor’s. “From the Rurals, you think?”
This made the doctor chuckle. “No, no. If it happened, it would most likely come from within. Students, turncoats, the like. Even if the Rurals had the brains and the technology, they don’t have the information. Their primary enemies are each other. They have bred so much suspicion and prejudice among their clans that they hardly imagine that there is a larger force at work. And if it even occurs to them, they can hardly give this opponent a name or a face, much less pinpoint a location. They are not the danger.”
“Careful now! I grew up a Rural.”
The laugh the two men shared was hollow. Then the auditor proceeded.
“Can you scan his brain, see what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling?
“We can create feelings, but we can only direct thoughts. He is young, but not young enough for us to have the sway we would have liked. Pity he was born out there and wasted so much time. But to return to the matter of your question, a scan will show us some things. Rudimentary things, such as his ability to understand speech---and yes, he will learn to speak several of the most useful languages, and to read and write many more. You see, we can only start small. It may seem trivial, but it is progress."
"What you're telling me then is that what you find on a scan now merely validates what you can already observe in his speech and actions?" The auditor removed his eyeglasses, rubbed them on his shirt, and began to shuffle some papers into his metal briefcase.
"Not 'merely,' sir. It offers more insight for us than he might volunteer on the surface. We may detect whether he is tired, for example, or whether he is paying attention.” The doctor seemed dissatisfied with his answer. He added, "And we find he is always paying attention.”
Penny could see them now, even though she had still not opened her eyes. A screen in front of the two men revealed an infrared view of a chamber where a figure lay on its back. A small square of light glowed in its cranium.
The auditor jabbed his finger toward the scene. “What happens if that malfunctions? What if he loses control? Or you do?” His questions were now deadpan, as though he were reading from a script or checklist.
The doctor’s teeth gleamed. “Nigh unthinkable. But in that case, we are very good at hunting.”
Penny bolted from her sleep into a sitting position. She was unsure whether it was a drug or a dream that had whispered to her, or something else entirely.
Minutes later, Kai turned over slowly, rubbing his eyes. The room was bright and steely. He looked down at his arms and was reminded of the time he had fallen into a briar patch at the age of 5. His scalp felt extremely sensitive. It had been shaved, and when he touched it, he found it was covered in bumps. A small mirror on the wall beside him revealed more, leaving him open-mouthed; he had never seen stitches in anything but cloth before.
Kai blinked at the ceiling and spotted a camera embedded there. He examined it with wide eyes for some time before calmly addressing it. “I know that you can see me,” he murmured. “I am awake now. What will we do next?”
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