A Dose of Reality

The bright light blinded me. I breathed so that meant this light wasn’t at the end of the tunnel. It faded into darkness around it, but only because it was so close to my eyes. Where the hell am I? I didn’t expect anyone to answer my thoughts, but I had a bit of hope.
I tried sitting up, but I got dizzy. The world around spun, forcing me to lie back down. Slowly, the light faded into a set of three, like a big overhead lamp. Beeps caught my attention. They reminded me of something one would find in a hospital.
Wires were attached to small white pads were stuck on my chest, but around me, nothing except for the machine that monitored my vitals. That must’ve been what’s making the beeping sound. Every beep coincided with the uptick of the line that proved I was indeed alive.
This place doesn’t feel right. It wasn’t a hospital, at least none that I had ever seen. My head throbbed and my mouth was as dry as the desert. Everything was off here and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I don’t remember getting into an accident, but then I don’t remember much of how I got here at all.
Do I know who I am? Michael. Your name is Michael. At least that’s a relief. It meant I wasn’t a complete amnesiac, but it didn’t make me feel any better about the situation. My head throbbed as if my brain was expanding and pushing against the inside of my skull.
I reached up to cradle my head and stopped halfway. This wasn’t my arm. What was once flesh and bone was now cybernetic. Titanium infused with wires ran from my new fingertips to my shoulder. I stared in morbid fascination as I couldn’t believe that this was my arm
What the fuck has happened to me? Where is my arm? Thoughts ran through my mind, and none of them were good. Did someone kidnap me? If so, what was the purpose of this? What happened to my real arm, the one of flesh and bone? As much as I loved tech, I never wanted this.
What the hell was an understatement. I couldn’t remember a damn thing and my static filled my head as if preventing me from thinking straight. Whatever it was, I hoped it would pass soon.
A figure in overalls and specs that made his eyes larger than normal entered the room. He looked a bit grungy, as if he hadn’t bathed in a few days. The man walked over to the monitor and made a few notes on a data pad he had in his hand. He scratched at his unruly hair and glimpsed in my direction.
“I see you’re awake. For a minute I was afraid your body wouldn’t accept the new arm,” he said, moving to the edge of the platform I lay on.
“Who are you and why am I here? What happened to my arm? I asked. My mind filled with a lot more questions, but the man’s appearance gave me reason to believe he wouldn’t know most of the answers.
“Let’s start with introductions. I’m Harlon Jag, an underground enhancement specialist. You probably never have heard of me. That’s a good thing, as I don’t want the authorities to know I’m practicing,” he said.
“Michael. How did I get here?” I asked.
My hearts raced as Harlon took a bit before responding. It made me wonder if this place was legal, considering he didn’t want the authorities to know he practiced. Underground tech upgrades were common in today’s world, but the cost was astronomically high for many citizens.
However, many specialists offered services on the black market for a cheaper price. Some were good, while others left their patients with a bad code called the Sketch. This was a cyber-biological virus that affected anyone with tech upgrades to their bodies.
The best were relatively immune, but that came with the high cost. You get what you pay for in this world. It was one of the many reasons I was against cybernetic upgrades to my body. The Sketch proved debilitating and even the current treatment was expensive. The damn virus wrecked the whole nervous system.
“I don’t know how you got here, Michael. One of my associates found you on our doorstep with specific instructions to perform this procedure,” Harlon said.
“I don’t remember any of that,” I said, waving my new arm in frustration.
“Your original arm was completely smashed, and you had lost a lot of blood. I’m guessing it was from the condition of your arm. Do you remember an accident or attack?” Asked Harlon, as he turned to check the monitors.
“No. I don’t remember anything since I left work,” I said, trying to sit up.
Harlon motioned for me to lie back down. He unhooked a few wires and motioned for me to try again. I sat up and swung my legs over the side and let them dangle. My head swam, and I pressed my new hand against it automatically to steady myself.
“Dizziness?”
“Yeah, is that normal?”
“It is, and it’ll pass shortly. It never lasts long as it’s from the anesthesia. When did you leave work, Michael?” He asked.
“It was around the eleven in the evening, on the seventeenth,” I said.
“Interesting as they found you on my doorstep the morning of the eighteenth. It’s the twentieth today.”
“I lost three days?”
“Most of it was under my care. You don’t remember any accident or telling someone to bring you here?”
“No. I would tell someone to take me to the hospital, not some underground chop shop. No offense.”
“None taken,” said Harlon, lighting up a cigarette. “It seems someone wanted you here. The instructions were quite clear and a credit chip was attached to you.”
I clenched my fists and could hardly control my shock as my new arm worked as fast as my real one. Anger raged in my head, and I trembled in disbelief. Never in my life had I been violated like this. I checked myself over for any marks. None. How could an accident leave me unmarked except for a smashed arm? Shouldn’t there be other signs?
There was nothing at my workplace or home that could destroy an arm. Accidents happened, but nothing like this. Who paid for the operation? There had to be a signature or trail on the credit chip.
“Does the credit chip say who paid for my new arm?” I asked.
“Nope. It was clean, with only enough to pay me for the job. It didn’t have a market in the programing that I couldn’t recognize. Whoever sent it wanted the best arm for you and paid my normal asking price for it. Whoever it was knows who I am what I do, but money is money. I couldn’t let you die, either.”
“Did the instruction say who wrote them at all? I’m trying to figure out where everything went wrong or what happened to me.”
“Someone wrote them on paper, which, as you know, are rare these days. Trying to find the source would prove challenging, but I kept it along with the credit chip for you,” said Harlon.
“Yeah, maybe I can find some information out. I never wanted mods.”
“Most people won’t mind them too much, but yours isn’t a normal body mod.”
“Hold up. What do you mean it’s not like a normal mod? What makes mine different?” I asked.
This made my heart race. While tech reined supreme, many people looked down on those who changed themselves with cyber enhancements. Even if the need was justified, it didn’t matter. There were too many purists who thought others lost a part of their humanity with each piece of tech they gained. I don’t feel les human, but I am pissed.
Harlon took a long drag of his cigarette and glanced in my direction. “No one admires the beauty that comes with the merging of flesh and tech, but your arm is state-of-the art. It’s ahead of its times and perfect for hackers.”
“Hackers?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. This was getting interesting.
“Yeah. The note mentioned this model since they wanted you to have the best. Your arm can do wonders,” Harlon said, handing me the data pad.
“You said the chip had a marker?” I asked, scanning the information for the arm.
It was quite impressive and for a fast second, I felt a bit of admiration for the technology involved. I would’ve had more if this wasn’t done against my will. There was no way I’d agree to this voluntarily. Something was off.
“Yeah. I’ll plug in the chip to the data pad there so you can see it,” he said.
The chip opened up and after a few swiped and adding in some of my programming skills, the marker appeared and opened up. It was the letter Z in a circle. Fuck me!
“That’s some excellent skills you have. All I got out of the marker was a colored splotch.”
“It’s a logo disguised as a colored pixel. Here it’s Zeron Corp. My place of employment.”
“Did you have an accident there?” he asked.
“No, not that I’m aware of. Zeron wouldn’t just pay for a new arm for an employee. This isn’t right,” I said.
“Sounds like you have a mystery on your hands. I should teach you how to use it.”
I put the data pad down. It seemed self-explanatory, but having my place of employment pay for a surgery after they dumped me at this place’s front door raised too many red flags. It’s not like I could go to HR with this, as it probably went deep. I was a corporate hacker for Zeron Corp, which raised even more red flags.
“The data says the arm gives me more strength and flexibility,” I said.
“That it does. You can also jack in physically to any data node. Your arm functions as a direct link. That way theirs fewer barriers in your way to connect.”
I sighed and shook my head. This wasn’t good. Zeron may have done this to me on purpose. Fewer barriers meant easier access to the net. This made me an asset to the company and a potential slave to their whims in corporate espionage.
It also meant Harlon was in danger. Zeron would cover this up and liquidating the person who did this wasn’t far from something they’d do. I’ve seen my share of shit in my job, but I always hoped Zeron wasn’t like the others. So much for staying naïve.
“I need to find out who’s responsible for this, but you and your associate need to get out of here. I’m afraid that once I leave, Zeron will firebomb this place. That way, there’s no tracing the procedure to them. Cover their tracks,” I said, standing.
A wave of dizziness swam over me, and I leaned against the table for support. Harlon was typing away at a computer and I noticed he was downloading everything into a small drive. Good. He wasn’t dumb and thought I was right.
“Do you have a way out, Harlon?”
“I do. My associate is already gone for the day. I’ll head underground.”
“When did he leave?” I asked.
“Shortly after you woke, why do you ask?”
“It means our time is limited and your associate has ties to Zeron Corp. Get out now. I’ll get dressed and leave. It looks like I’ll have time to use this arm sooner than Zeron hoped.”
Harlon grabbed his stuff and motioned for me to follow. Once dressed, Harlon pointed to a door. “It leads down to the sewers. No one knows it’s there but me and others I work with.”
“Others? Like your associate?” I asked.
“Others like me who regularly resist the corporations. My associate doesn’t,” he said.
“Good. I’ll give you a few minutes to go before I leave. If we meet again, I hope it voluntarily and on better terms.”
“I agree. Take the data pad as it will tell you what your arm can do. Knowledge is power, Michael. It also offers choices to do what’s right.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. He was right, but my primary concern was ensuring he made it out alive. I knew Zeron would blast this place. I was far from innocent, but I didn’t want anything to happen to Harlon. There would soon come a time when I’d need to rethink my employment.
The blinding light of the sky made me shield my eyes. It was rare for the sunlight to actually peek through all the smog in the city, but for once, I was glad for it. It warmed my skin and pushed back the sterile cold that was the shop I left.
An expensive and sleek black hover car pulled up and a man in a black suit stepped out. “Michael, I’m Israel from Zeron Corp. I’m here to make sure you get home safely, so there’s no more accidents.”
Yeah, no more accidents. If that wasn’t a veiled threat, if I heard one. My apartment was probably hacked and wired for observation. That meant they’d know everything I did there. My search would have to start elsewhere. It seems I may have to take the road followed by independent and illegal hackers.
“Okay, Israel. You must be security?” I asked.
“Yes, sir. After the explosion at headquarters, Zeron wishes only for your safety,” he said, motioning inside the car.
Reluctantly, I got in a seat on the plush leather seats. The air was cool and mixed with the flavors and smells of the city. Israel got in and tapped on the window that separated us and the driver. Withing a few seconds, the ground dropped away as the car soared into the air heading north, toward my apartment complex.
A loud explosion rocked the car. I glanced down to see the shop and part of the building it was in on fire. Rubble scattered the streets. No one would’ve survived the blast. I hoped Harlon got away.
“That was close.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“There were rumors of terrorists hitting different parts of the city. Mostly shops like this one from those who claim modifications were bad for humanity.”
“I can see that happening,” I said, trying my best to sound convincing, not that I bought the lie.
“The CEO wants to have a meeting with you tomorrow if you’re up for it. She wants to apologize for what had happened.”
“I can make it. I’m a bit sore, but that’s normal,” I said.
“Should I call for a medical team? Zeron has skilled doctors on staff,” he said.
“No, it’s not that bad. I’m glad to be safe, that’s it.”
The car entered traffic and sped away. I kept staring at the smoke until it was a thin tendril along the horizon. I was on my own and needed to be careful. There was no room to slip. Play along… for now. Someone at Zeron ordered this, and I’d find out who.

***

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