Sevorah was silent for several moments as she thought over what he had revealed. It wasn’t something she had the power to change. It was simply a fact of how their world worked, but it was one that had been mostly hidden in the shadows before that moment. As a mender, she had, of course known it happened, just not the full extent. She still couldn’t truly say she did, since Trace’s information was so out of date.

  “Have you ever mentioned any of this to Drake?” She asked gently, using Stick-Point’s real name for once.

  “No, not in this much detail or entirety,” He admitted. “I never saw much point. What would he do, mobilize the edgers? Who would pay for their efforts?” He laughed sardonically. “It’s a nice thought, but at the end of the day, no one would be willing to work for free. Maybe, just maybe, they would do it one time. But what about the next time the corporations' experiment recruiters went around or the time after that?”

  “You’re right, but I still think you should mention it to him,” Sevorah said, pushing stubbornly.

  Ko clapped her hands. “Alright, enough of that topic. Let’s move on. Tell us everything that you can remember about the second experiment. The corporation that conducted it, and what methods they used. Please?”

  Trace groaned and flopped back onto his bed. “Fine, but there really isn’t much to tell. I was unconscious when they were doing the actual experiments on me. All I can really tell you is what I saw being done to a few of the other kids through cracks in the doors, as well as when I spotted bodies being disposed of, when I was kicked out of the experiment.”

  “They let you see that?” Deckard asked in surprise, reminding them of his presence.

  Trace snorted; his arm flung over his face. “I doubt they even thought about it at the time. I was so messed up that they had to carry me to the vehicle that would take me to the dumpsite. I’d been delirious with fever for days, and nothing they gave me was helping. It’s why they wrote me off. I wasn’t dead, but they didn’t want to spend the time taking care of me either. So, they put a tracker in me and dumped my body. If I survived, then great. If not, well, I’d only made it through a few rounds of it anyway.”

  The inside of the apartment was silent as they let Trace process his past trauma.

  Finally, with a careful push against the mattress, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “There were two different styles of experiments being conducted from what I remember, though everyone eventually received both. The difference was in the order. I say that purely from the marks I saw on our scalps; it is entirely possible that there is more variation to them. I don’t really know how these experiments were being conducted.

  “One of the experiments involved them cutting into the base of our necks. There isn’t much I can say about that one. The second experiment though, involved them opening our skulls and…” He squinted, trying to remember through the haze of time. “I don’t know; the girl was already dead when I saw her. All I remember is them pulling off these incredibly small… pads, metal discs? Right off her exposed brain.”

  “It’s called ‘Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation’,” Deckard told them softly from his place at the desk. “It can be used to induce controlled seizures when used on the outside of the skull. Placing the electrodes directly onto the brain is madness.”

  “How did you recognize what it was, then?” Sevorah asked him suspiciously.

  Trace stared at him, his eyes slowly widening in dawning understanding and growing anger. “You have got to be FRACKING KIDDING ME!” He roared. “Are you serious? That was one of his corporations, wasn’t it?”

  Deckard looked down and away, refusing to meet his eyes as he slowly nodded. “Nebula Genetics. It was one of the first he created after coming back, and it is directly linked with much of the research for the Lazarus Project.”

  Trace exhaled loudly while cracking his neck. “I thought he was different from—” He shook his head, unwilling to finish that sentence.

  “I don’t know how involved he was with the research being conducted at the time.” The android muttered in a weak tone. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s… not your fault, and not your place to apologize for something you had no part in.”

  While they were talking, Sevorah had pulled out her ink-sheet and was reviewing the earliest scans she had taken of Trace’s head. Back then, she had replaced his eyes and the original NetConnect he had been using. Both were items that had been with him since he was a child, though she hadn’t known it at the time. Something that was highly unusual, to say the least.

  She held up the pad next to the scanner screen, shook her head, and then swiped away his information, bringing up someone else’s instead. “There it is,” Sevorah muttered, looking back at Trace in wonder. “How long were you participating in that second experiment?”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  He blinked in confusion, trying to remember. “Uh, it was probably around three or four weeks. It had started to snow the day I was caught, and all the snowdrifts had been carted outside the city by the time I got out. Why?” He finished tiredly, growing annoyed with asking that word.

  “Because they put a basic bioware implant in your brain during the time you were inside, and then they healed you enough that you became functional afterward.”

  Trace laughed darkly. “I was dumped outside the facility because they gave up on me. I don’t think that counts as being functional.”

  Ko shook her head, looking between the pad Sevorah was holding and the larger scanner screen. “I think she means more in regard to how the healing was done. Just think about how long it is taking to heal the nerve graft we performed on your spine. Yet, they healed a surgery that was infinitely more complicated in nature. Yes, you might have had issues adjusting to it, but you were indeed functional enough to survive once you were outside.”

  She raised a hand to her head. “If I were to attempt the installation of a bioware implant of any sort, you would be confined to the bed for days, and then weeks more would be needed to properly use it, even with the help of a NetConnect. And that is assuming I knew what I was doing. I can’t even see whatever it is that Sevorah managed to catch a glimpse of.”

  The woman in question pointed to what she had seen. “Here, it looks like nothing more than a shadow, but when you compare it to the scans of your brain, you’ll see that it’s slightly larger than it should be.”

  Trace shook his head. “No, I think I would have noticed if I had a bioware mod in my brain. I remember what it looked like on that one guy’s head. What was his name? Troy. Yeah, Troy, he had that adrenal gland augment. It was pretty noticeable with the synth skin and everything.”

  “Augment is the key word in that sentence,” Sevorah returned, not turning from the screens. “An augment is meant to connect with the user’s NetConnect. It is the most common variety of bioware. There is also a simple bioware modification; normally the names are all tossed around interchangeably. However, in this case, there is an actual difference. A mod is an enhancer for something that is naturally there. Just one that is always on.”

  In Troy’s case, he had possessed an adrenal gland augment, which had allowed him to flood his system with adrenaline on command. On the other hand, if he had possessed a mod, there would have been no controlling it. His body would have always been flooded with adrenaline.

  Ko leaned back in sudden understanding. “That’s why David also called them biomods. I had wondered about that at the time, but now it makes sense. They’re two different but related items. I thought it was just a slang term.”

  “So, this biomod is responsible for my brain creating extra energy?” Trace guessed. “What would be the point of that? What would that help them learn?”

  As one, all three turned to Deckard, hoping he would have the answer.

  The man was completely still, his eyes closed; only the gentle tapping of a single finger signaling he was still controlling the body.

  The three were conversing amongst themselves when Deckard opened his eyes a few minutes later. “Apologies. I had to do a search through the information I was left. It seems the answer once more lies with the Lazarus Project. The increased power allowed them to completely map the neural pathways of the human brain in a manner that their computers could work with and take information from. In other words, it was one of the keys that let the project move toward its final goal.”

  “Great.” Trace sighed in frustration. “Well, I guess it’s nice to finally have an answer for why this has been happening to me. Is there any mention of a way to turn it off in those documents?”

  “It’s a mod, not an augment,” Sevorah told him gently. “I doubt they particularly cared about the lives of their experiment subjects after they left the facility. All they wanted was their data, nothing more.”

  “At least it comes with a couple of benefits, right?” He grumbled bleakly. “I mean, this is why my nerves were in such good condition and why I’m getting used to using my arm without help.”

  Ko and Sevorah shared a look, though it was Deckard who spoke up. “It is doubtful that the biomod would have had the first effect, though the second could be related, I suppose.”

  His girlfriend nodded somberly. “There’s actually more, and I’m thinking this might be somewhat related to why you suddenly seem to be adapting to your arm. I know that we have been hesitant to call what you have been experiencing seizures, though they share similar characteristics. We might need to reconsider that evaluation somewhat.

  “It has been documented that during prolonged seizures, brain damage was known to occur. After which, the person would then need to relearn how to function normally, assuming they had the capacity to do so. During that time, the brain would create new connections and routes around the damaged portions.” She licked her lips. “If a person lost the ability to use their arm, then they would need to teach their brain and body how it was supposed to operate. In your case, and I suppose mine, that isn’t needed due to the nanites.”

  Trace suddenly found that his mouth was exceedingly dry. “Deckard, toss me a water, please?” He gasped out. Snatching it from the air, he downed half the bottle in one go when it was promptly tossed to him. “You’re saying you’re seeing damage to my brain?”

  “It’s more what we aren’t seeing,” Sevorah answered. “Trace, you live an active lifestyle, or rather, did; it is common to see non-traumatic brain injuries in people such as yourself. They’re nothing to worry about, but they still show up on the scans. In the past, you have always had a few, a couple that even bordered on being serious. They healed relatively quickly, so I wasn’t too concerned. At the moment, there is nothing.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “You had two when I first scanned you an hour ago,” Ko told him.

  “Ah, so that just means my nanites are becoming more familiar with my brain,” Trace said, turning to Deckard. “That was something you had mentioned a while after you first woke up, wasn’t it? The longer the nanites spend inside the host’s brain, the more effective they’ll be.”

  “I don’t believe that was my exact phrasing, but yes, that is true. Your case would be on the shorter end of the intended timeline; however, the oddities of your situation may have sped up their neural mapping protocol.” That was part of what had allowed the nanites to bring back Deckard’s mind as completely as they had. They were so intimately familiar with his brain due to how long they had spent inside his head, constantly mapping and healing it.

  Thank you to all the people who have taken the time to rate the story and to my latest Patrons! I have other stories up on my Patreon, including my current WIPs. Which are now Created G.H.O.S.T. System(My Cyberpunk story), WetWorks2, plus The Restaurateur and His Daughter and DungeonFall. :)

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