Playing God?

Chapter One

Tomorrow morning, Rudy and I will sit down with the Budget Committee to give our opinions as to whether the Bionic Program should be expanded in the future, to possibly include another subject. There is no potential subject yet, but the option will either remain open or be closed forever. I find it ironic that Steve and Jaime were not invited to attend, but Rudy and I have done our best to ascertain their true, honest feelings and will try to speak for them, as well as for ourselves.

Speaking in monetary terms, the program's benefits have far outweighed the costs. The United States – and in some cases, the world – have been saved from crisis and tragedy more times than we could begin to count. We've gleaned intelligence reports we'd never have obtained without Steve or Jaime's efforts. They've thwarted assassinations, terrorist attacks and power-hungry drug lords. So, yes – the benefits are immeasurable, but at what cost to the human beings involved?

Steve, while not an OSI operative, was already well-entrenched in government service before his accident. Rudy's research had progressed as far as it could without a living subject, so Steve's injuries at precisely that point in time made it seem fated that he become the first bionic man. I signed on the dotted line without giving as much thought as I should have to the ethics involved in implanting computer chips, wires and machinery into a human body. Even with everything he'd known beforehand, Steve sank into a deep depression following his surgery; he even attempted suicide. His anger very nearly ate him alive, as he punched holes in walls and railed at me about playing God with a human life. Fortunately, he was able to adjust to his new circumstances and proved himself to be a naturally skilled operative.

Steve, at least, was a logical choice for the Bionic Program – a natural fit. Jaime, on the other hand, was...not. I've never been a man who gives in to emotions, my own or anyone else's, but Steve's plea for me to save the life of his childhood sweetheart touched me like nothing else ever has, before or since. Jaime is the only woman Steve has ever loved, and that day, I could see in his eyes that he'd have gladly forfeited his own life to save her.

I have to admit, though, that if Jaime's case were put before without Steve's input, I'd never have given her a second glance as a possible subject. While it's true that she's highly intelligent and athletic, and also very brave, she was thrust into a world of which she had no prior knowledge, without her consent or even her input. Steve's initial reactions to his bionics were disturbing, but nothing that couldn't be dealt with by the medical team. Jaime's reactions broke my heart.

We were fairly certain she'd react with fear and confusion, and she did. Steve's calm, loving approach helped Jaime survive those tumultuous first few days after her surgery. It was later, once her body had begun to recover, that her deep emotional wounds rose to the surface and she became inconsolably distant and sad. The nurses reported hearing her crying very softly when she was by herself, but the tears disappeared and were vehemently denied if anyone tried to come to her aid. Independence and a strong will are two of the reasons Jaime has become one of my best operatives, but those qualities aren't exactly conducive to a speedy psychological recovery. I know how difficult it was for Jaime to allow others to care for her while she gradually learned about her new limbs and how they functioned. Jaime had lost her parents at an early age and had become very comfortable fending for herself. She had to temporarily give up that firm self-sufficiency and allow others to help her to a much greater extent than she felt comfortable with.

Jaime's toughest battle, though, was not a physical one. She had to struggle mightily to see herself as the same human being she'd been before her accident. The thought that she was more robot than human terrified her. She alternated between nightmares where she saw herself sitting off in a corner, limbless, alone and forgotten, and her waking fear that Steve would never be able to love a 'partial woman'.

Patiently, with very quiet tenderness, Steve pointed out that, by Jaime's own definition, he was only half a man himself. Jaime's insistence that it made no difference, that she'd love him just as deeply, no matter what, turned out to be her own personal watershed moment. The light bulb had been lit; if she continued to see Steve as 100 percent human, then Jaime knew for certain that his heart was still beating with exactly the same truth about her.

During her hospital stay Jaime accused me of playing God, just like Steve had, but while Steve had said it out of anger and bitterness, Jaime uttered those words with tears in her eyes. It is this single moment that makes me hesitate in pushing the Bionic Program forward. At this point, I have no idea what I will say to the committee.

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