Mirror: Chapter 9

"Who operated on him? This is the worst hack-job I have ever seen. I have half a mind to rocket hammer his surgeon, it's obvious he didn't care."

"He was operating on himself."

"Oh," Ido's angry expression melted away and stared at the unconscious cyborg on his operating table.

With the patient's torso opened up, it was easy to notice the extent of the damage. His cyber-core, feeble heart-pump/generator and the cabling to his brain were all safe because Adem had taken the time to reinforce them. Everything else rattled loose, cracked open, or shattered. Tool marks scored everything, a historical record of extensive self-repair.

With a tap of Ido's finger, a display came up.

Synchronicity: 12%. 11%. 10%.

Something popped, and then bright-blue cyber-fluid and dark-red blood poured freely. Everyone gasped as the purple mixture splattered on the floor. Warning signals fired off from the dark instinctual recesses of his brain, triggering a grand mal seizure.

9%. 8%. 7%.

"Alita!"

She grabbed Adem's hand and leaned over him to pin him to the table. In this situation, one of three things had to give: the sturdy surgical table, Alita who never gave up, or Adem's body. The pressure from his runaway heart/generator backed up into his system, causing his bleeding to spray across a surprised Alita and Ido.

6%.

His last hand, wrist already loosened from the match, detached and she held it up dumbfounded.

"I'm yanking him out!" Ido declared, "Steady him!"

"I'm trying to!" She was afraid for him, holding him down any tighter would break something else.

Surgical hands whirred and dived into his chest and unplated his neck. Moments later his heart and braincase rose into the air, held up by delicate mechanical fingers. Alita thought it looked like he was being held up by metallic threads.

His disconnected body fell limp and lifeless against the table.

5%.

With a syringe, Ido injected a sedative into a port on Adem's braincase then worked life-support cabling onto his heart.

"If he wakes up like this he'll reject his heart, for sure."

Fresh blue and red flowed into his heart and back to the machine.

Ido stared at the display with a clenched jaw. One minute passed, then another.

Still 5%.

"He'll live," Ido breathed out a sigh of relief, "Barely, but he'll live."

Alita realized she was still holding the severed hand. Whatever made it "his hand" was gone from it, and now it was unwanted spare parts.

Adem was, what remained of him, suspended precariously over his previous corpse, teetering between this world and oblivion. Gently, she placed his hand down on the table in its proper place, pretending it wasn't removed at all.

"We have to get him a new body and dispose of this one before he sees it. If he sees it his sync could drop."

"Okay," Alita murmured, "He's going to need a lot of help when he wakes up."

---

Adem yawned, then opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, bright and cheerful. Somehow, it made him irritated he had to squeeze his eyes shut.

I can see the colors. Where is my electromagnetic-locator overlay?

He sat up slowly and looked at his hand. It was shiny brushed steel but not reflective, and his fingertips clicked as he curled his hand into a fist.

Who's room is this? This is a girl's room--

In the corner, he saw a duffle bag with the numbers 99 stenciled on it.

Right, Alita's room. If I'm at the clinic, then there wasn't a lot of other options.

Looking to his other side, he saw the full-length mirror positioned so he'd have to pass it on his way out the door. Standing, he got a good look at himself.

I have a face now--I have my old face back. What the hell happened to me?

The new cybernetic body imitated a running athlete's, but muscular enough to pack a punch. He looked human if it weren't for the metal.

Adem's rationality worked it through point-by-point, exactly why Ido forced a change on him like this.

He suffered a total-body cybernetic rejection.

The idea stabbed into his brain like a live electrical wire and the sensation of static electricity spread over his face. He touched it to smooth out the eerie feeling, then yanked his hand away.

It was icy.

Adem saw a pile of neatly folded men's clothing by the mirror and lifted up a pair of faded jeans and a brown leather jacket. The jacket looked like it had seen better days.

I had forgotten what it felt like to get dressed. Why bother, though? It's not like modesty is an issue anymore.

---

Ido and Alita were standing by the front door when Adem walked down the hallway, wearing only the jeans and jacket. Both were in the way, and both stared at him a moment.

"Hey there! Where are you going?" Ido asked.

"Good morning," Alita chimed in, standing on her toes a moment and clasping her hands together "Why don't you stay for breakfast?"

"You two were waiting by the door the entire time, weren't you?" Adem deadpanned.

Alita and Ido glanced at each other, and answered at the same time, "No."

They followed Adem into the dining room, and he tried to sit at the first available chair. But, both Alita and Ido stood too close to let him slide out the chair and shooed him to the far side of the table.

She sat closest to the door, propped her face upon her interlinked fingers and watched him. Adem ran his metal fingers on the design of table cloth and studied it.

Ido came back with a plate of bacon and eggs, "You liked this, right?"

"Yeah. A long time ago."

Adem's hand habitually rubbed over the base of his neck, and then his collarbone. When he didn't find what he was looking for tried to crane his neck to look at his chest.

"You don't have a nutrition port anymore," Ido informed him with a half-smile.

Adem stared at the silverware.

"What's a nutrition port?" Alita asked, slipping an orange slice into her mouth. Each and every slice seemed to, without justification, keep her full attention.

"Cyborg's without mouths have to get their food somehow," Ido said, nudging Adem's plate closer.

"Trying to make me human again, huh?" Adem muttered.

"That's the plan, yes," Alita said, bluntly and without hesitation.

Adem's fingers clinked when they touched the silverware. When he tried to lift it, the fork clattered on the table, slipping from his smooth grip.

"Do you have any athletic tape?" Adem asked Alita.

She stared at Adem a moment before letting her eyes flicker to Ido. He nodded once, and she sneaked from the kitchen.

"I run for a living, but give me some credit."

Ido nodded.

"What was my score?"

"It was terrible. You had to be yanked."

"And my old body?"

"Gone," Ido said matter-of-factly, "We kept some of the parts, like the counterweight, but none of it was salvageable. I'm sorry."

Adem clenched his fists on the table, "And you already sent a medical report to the Motorball commission?"

"Not yet, but I should. I will if you force my hand." Even though he was, technically, threatening Adem, Ido's face remained doctorly, fatherly even.

"The prize money?"

"Unfortunately, we had to spend it on your body, to save your life. It's gone."

"So what do you want, to keep the report quiet?"

"I was about to ask you that," Ido said, munching on a strip of bacon.

After a few false starts, Adem gave up on answering and busied himself with tapping the fork around.

When Alita came back, she had the tape in one hand and the clothes he neglected to put on in the other. He asked her to cover his fingertips with the tape. A few moments later he could grip the fork without issues.

"Before we go you're putting the rest of your clothes on, I didn't go bargain-bin diving for you to ignore them," she demanded, holding them out.

Adem stared patiently, waiting for her to pull back her hand. She arched an eyebrow and refused to relent.

"I have to go to my apartment," Adem continued to try and stare Alita down.

"First, finish breakfast," Ido said.

"I'll go with you," Alita said.

I don't even get to argue.

"Fine," he sighed, taking the clothes, "Well, since I'm being force-fed, too, do you have any coffee?"