Chapter 9 – ArthrosPsyatic Output: 10,000 Bio-units

  Synaptik: Unbound

  The boratory was a small room, but rge enough for two Hokkonians to stand fortably. It was brightly lit, with a padded chair in the middle and a tertop that ran along the perimeter. Beh the tertop was ste for any medical supplies and chemical pounds needed for a long journey.

  On the tertop sat a rge synthesizer, capable of printing physical materials, as well as any chemical pounds not already stored.

  There was a sirance, which Arthros stormed through with Jericho in his arms.

  “Taking recruits against their will already proved to be iive.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  He let him drop into the chair and strapped down his legs and arms.

  “Did you injure him?

  He looked at the slumped human, with his mouth hanging half open and one eyelid fluttering.

  “No.”

  Jericho groaned, and a string of drool fell from his bottom lip.

  “Head trauma, maybe.”

  Arthros twisted the metal ring he wore on his middle finger. A holographic image of a globe appeared, like the one on his desk and the navigation sole. This one was much smaller, and more personal.

  “Head trauma? Did you fet that the test takes pce within the brain matter?”

  He ignored her. What he had to do o be done before Jerichained sciousness. After a few brief maniputions of the floating globe, he found the information he was looking for. He snapped his wrist bad jerked his hand forward. Instantly, the holographic orb ged into an image of a small vial filled with smoke like vapor.

  “Do we have this pound?”

  “Of course we do. The ship was stocked only a cycle ago.”

  Arthros shot a look at Jericho, “Synthesize it for me please.”

  “But what about his head injury–”

  “I’ll take care of it. I hat tahlditi synthesized first.”

  “Yes Arthros.”

  He ccked the tips of his teeth together. He couldn’t shake the nagging doubts, but it had to be dohe iy of the test was all that mattered, and the tahlditi would have no impa his other talents.

  “Synthesized.”

  He stuck his hand in the partment and pulled out the small vial. He raised it to his eyes and peered into it, giving it a small shake. The dense vapors swirled and liquified. Satisfied, he grabbed a syringe from the bottom et and quickly installed it into the vial.

  “How much are you giving him?”

  “Enough to manipute some ret memories.”

  He readied the needle at a vein in Jericho’s neck.

  “Which memories?”

  “The ones of the female.” He jabbed the syrio the vein, aied the vial with a gentle push of his thumb. “Now let’s fix the fracture in his skull before we lose him.”

  —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  JerichoPsyatic Output: 150 Bio-units

  Synaptik: Unbound

  sciousness was a dull, incessant pain. His head throbbed like he had taken a hammer blow to the temple. Why did he have to wake up? He had takehingness of unsciousness franted.

  Ignorance is bliss.

  He slowly blinked his eyes open, a was immediate. The white light of the room seemed harsh enough to melt his eyeballs, and for a moment he swore someone filled his skull with needles.

  He groaned and tried to shield himself but found his hands were bound to the armrest. He tugged oraps as panic quied his heart rate. His memories seemed clouded, and the harder he searched, the greater the pressure behind his eyes mounted.

  “Wele back,” a deep, cold voice said.

  The sudden noise made him jump and he winced as the bonds around his wrists and ankles bit into his skin. He squinted in the bright light but could only make out a dark shape in the doorway.

  “Back? What do you mean, what’s going on? Who are you?” His mouth felt dry, and his throat burned.

  The figure stepped forward. At the sight of his grey skin and hulking figure, he remembered a little more.

  “How much do you remember?” the alien asked with a curious expression.

  He asked the question like a stist, and not a ed by-stander.

  Did he do this to me? Arthros, the Hokkonian. A HWND pilot.

  “I remember you,” he croaked.

  “What else?”

  He licked his lips and was surprised at the metallic taste of blood. “I remember you were recruiting me; you said I’m unbound.”

  “Is that all?”

  He frowned and winced as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. “I was attacked and…Kyrin,” his eyes widened causing him to flinch. “Where is she?”

  Arthros crouched t his face closer. He wore a look of sympathy, but the cold light in his eyes betrayed just how unnatural the expression was.

  “Your friend is dead,” the alien seemed to study him for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  Arthros blinked, “She’s dead.”

  It ’t be true, she was fine. We got into an argument, and she left, but she was alive!

  “No, I don’t believe you,” Jeriuttered, trying desperately to wrack his brain for any information. “You’re lying.”

  But why would he lie? He’s only here to help me. He didn’t even know about her.

  “There was nothing I could do; she was dead when I arrived.”

  “Arrived where? What are you talking about?” He wao tear his hair out, but the bonds kept his hands down. “She’s not dead, I was just with her.”

  Arthros folded his arms across his chest, “Process this how you will. I uand you were close.”

  “Shut up,” Jericho groaned. “Shut up! I was just with her! She’s fiake me back to her—I’ll show you.”

  A dark look passed across Arthros’ face, and his white eyes lit up with ahe spines on his head quivered.

  “Be careful how you speak to me.”

  Jericho squeezed his eyes shut. This is a nightmare. I just o wake up and I’ll be ba the Med te, lying in my bed. Kyrin will be there. She’s alive.

  He took a deep breath a out a shaky exhale. “You saw her body?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know she was dead?”

  Arthros narrowed his eyes, “Even an animal hear a heartbeat.”

  Jericho choked back a sob and shook his head. He didn’t want to believe it; he couldn’t believe it. Arthros could be wrong—maybe he made a mistake.

  He g to that hope like a life raft in a typhoon. He was on the verge of drowning in an o of despair. He needed her reassuring touch; he couldn’t do this without her.

  “How did she die?”

  Arthros tapped the tips of his teeth together thoughtfully. His eyes studied him like he could read his mind, and for a moment, Jericho thought he might be able to. It was a vulnerable feeling, and he didn’t like it.

  “You went for a walk and were ambushed by hters.”

  “I don’t–” The memory of Dyn fshed back, and his stomach sank. He remembered the beating, the things they were trying to make him say. His face flushed with rage and he ched his hands together so hard his knuckles cracked. His leg was broken, he couldn't have fought back, but Kyrin…

  “She wasn’t there; I was alone.”

  “You were unscious. The girl was there when I arrived, and she tried to help. I saw him break her neck.”

  Grief stabbed him in the heart like a spike of ice. He had no idea if the alien was telling the truth, but something inside him was pelling him to believe. Why would he lie?

  You were knocked out, but he was there.

  “You were there…”

  Arthros nodded.

  “But you didn’t help her.”

  Arthros gave his head a slow, deliberate shake.

  “Why?” his voice cracked. He couldn’t breathe; couldn’t focus. “You watched her die.”

  The Hokkonian stepped close ao pce a hand on his shoulder. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were cold and unpassionate.

  “I uand that this is difficult for you. Humans and Hokkonians are simir in the emotions that they experience. But pilots learn to harden their hearts and overe grief and despair.”

  “That’s not an answer. Did you let her die on purpose?”

  Arthros’ lips twitched, “No.”

  Jericho wao believe him, but a small voice was screaming at him not to. Yet, the longer he sat in that chair, staring into the Hokkonian’s face, the quieter those warnings became.

  “Okay,” he said finally.

  He saw his own haggard refle in Arthros’ eyes. He felt sibsp;

  “Grief is debilitating. Do not let these emotions own you.”

  Jericho worked his jaw. He nodded his head and squeezed his eyes shut, bowing so Arthros couldn’t see the drops of tears on his cheeks.

  “It’s time for the test. I’m afraid we ’t waste any more time.”

  Jericho sniffed and swallowed hard, silently pleading with himself to pull it together. Kyrin would want him to do this.

  “What kind of test?” His voice was hoarse.

  Arthros opened a draulled out a silver test tube. “We call it an iion exam.” He grabbed a handheld device out of another drawer and attached it onto the test tube. “We o make sure your brain hahe strain of cohabitation.”

  “Cohabitation? Like something living inside me?”

  The Hokkonian’s lips twitched, “Precisely. The iion is the hardest part. Living beings are desigo reject fies. Your immune system will read attempt to dispatch the intruder.”

  “Intruder…” Jericho’s eyes wide the devi Arthros’ hand. Attached to the test tube was a four-inch long needle. “Wait, yoing to stab me with that?”

  The alien poio the back of his skull, “Yes, with precisiht here.”

  A heavy hand ced on his sternum as Arthros strapped his head to the back cushion, log him in pbsp;

  “What exactly are you putting into my head?”

  “An embryo,” Arthros said quietly as he walked around Jericho’s chair. “An unborn AI.”

  “Like a puter?”

  “With anipos. It will awaken in your brain matter and decide if you’re a suitable host,” Arthros muttered.

  “It will decide?”

  Arthros’ tone was distracted as he focused on the needle. “This is not a you trol. This test is not for you, but the embryo. All you do is pray to whatever god you believe in that you’re patible.”

  Jericho swallowed and took a shaky breath, “And if I’m not?”

  “You’ll be rejected as a host, and the embryo will feed on your brain tissue. I will not be able to stop that process. Both you and the embryo will be of no use.”

  Arthros’ face appeared in front of his—sharp features devoid of emotio his white eyes burned with a straensity. Jericho wished he could reach back behind his head and remove the needle that was now locked in pbsp;

  “What happens then?”

  “I’ll be forced to dispose of your husk.”

  I think I’m going to puke.

  “Has that happened before?”

  Arthros straightened and crossed his arms across his chest, “Of course. AI iion was intended for Hokkonians only; you’re my thirteenth attempt.”

  I really am going to puke.

  Jericho’s stomach flopped, and his jaw went sck. The Hokkonian was insane—he had to be. Twelve other humans had their braien ahought it was okay to keep trying.

  “You’re crazy.”

  For the first time since he had met him, a smile threateo crack Arthros’ stone-like features. “I was born crazy.”

  I’m going to die, this is it. Kyrin, I’m ing!

  Who was he kidding—he wasn’t a hero. He it fighter. If he went baow, he could join another pit, solidify himself as a fighter, and maybe live for another couple of years.

  Pig-Chow was right—he wasn’t special.

  “Take me back. I don’t want to do this.”

  Arthros frowned, “It’s too te for that.”

  There was a sharp pain at the base of his head, and everythi bbsp;

  ***

  When Jericho opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness. He tried to look around, but for some reason his head wouldn’t move, like it was frozen in pce.

  He could feel the physical dition of his pupils as he searched for any visible light. He was surrounded by the endless expanse of the void.

  What happened? How did he get here, in this strange pable to move? He wracked his brain but couldn’t produy memories. He had no answers, only the nagging sehat he was here for a reason.

  Of course, he was a smart guy. He wouldn’t get himself into this kind of situation without having a good reason. At least he thought he was a smart guy. Now that he thought of it, he didn’t know anything about himself. Who was he? Where was he?

  “Hello?” a tentative voice echoed all around him.

  Jericho froze. The voice sounded familiar, though he was sure he had never heard anything like it before.

  “Who’s there?” His own voice seemed to echo endlessly as it reverberated off ethereal walls.

  There was a slight pause before the voice responded.

  “I– I am AI,” the voice said, soundiant.

  Jericho tried to see who eaking, “Your name is AI?”

  “No…” the voice said again. “I don’t think I have a name. What is your name?”

  “Jericho.”

  “Hello Jericho,” the voice said, gaining fidence. “I am AI. I think I am here for you.”

  He felt a chill run through his blood, “Are you my friend?”

  There was another pause, “I don’t know.”

  Did that mean that the mysterious voice was here to hurt him? He couldn’t even move—how was he going to protect himself?

  “Where are we?” Jericho asked.

  “We are in your sciousness,” the voice said, now almost pletely devoid of uainty. “I was created so that I would only be born in the sciousness of a partner.”

  That made no sense. “So, we’re partners?”

  “I think so.”

  There was another pause, this one so long that Jericho thought the voice had left. He waited for it to speak again, but the darkness made it too unfortable to keep quiet.

  “Do you want to be friends, AI?”

  “I don’t know yet; I am hungry.” The voice sounded more serious, more adult.

  The way it spoke made Jericho feel small. What did hunger have to do with friendship?

  “Hungry–” He let out a scream as pain nced across his head, like sharp cws raking the tissue behind his eyes.

  “What is that?” He let out another scream as the pain grew more intense.

  “I am hungry, Jericho. What do you have to offer?” The voice shook the entire abyss.

  “I don’t know– What are you doing?”

  The pain doubled. It was debilitating. He couldn’t speak; he couldn’t even think.

  “I o determine if we are patible. I ot exist within an ie mind.”

  He felt simultaneously cold and hot, while his mind suffered the stant barrage of attacks.

  “Please,” Jericho whimpered. “Just kill me.”

  The barrage stopped, and for a few glorious seds the relief was almost intoxig.

  “Why would I do that?” the voice asked. Its tone was ft aral, but Jericho was sure it sounded pleased. “You are my friend.”