Chapter 1: Beyond Expectations
Author's Note: This chapter has been updated with a fairly extensive addition.
He flexes a hand slowly, testing the fine motor skills of this new body. The fingers respond with a precision he finds remarkable. He smiles, imagining his improved accuracy with a pulse rifle. In the mirror, his appearance is as he remembers it, though he knows the resemblance is only external. Beneath the bioloid skin, he is no longer a man of flesh and blood, but a creature of circuits and steel .
He turns to face the Kalish technician, a pretty young woman who stares at his naked form with acute scientific curiosity. "The cosmetic team appears to have done an excellent job. Is anything missing?"
"Missing?" He checks the mirror again and sees his own puzzled smile.
"Scars, birthmarks, anything that, if absent, would lead to suspicion. My orders are to make sure the likeness is identical, and given that the original subject was obliterated, I have only your word."
"It is..." he searches for a word to describe this miraculous gift. "It is beyond expectations."
"Yes, I imagine it is. When we found the data spools in the command carrier wreckage, the last thing we expected was a living consciousness. I believe I speak for the whole scientific team when I say we are grateful to you for giving us this opportunity." She walks over to a shelf and retrieves a set of clothing, which she hands to him.
"And to the Scarrans for providing the equipment, of course." He cannot keep the bitterness out of his voice as he pulls on the shirt and trousers.
"Working for the Scarrans is a necessity of survival. Ours and yours." She raises an eyebrow. "You will fulfill your end of the agreement." Her tone makes it clear that she is making a statement, not asking a question.
He meets her eyes and shrugs. He knows this second life will end if he betrays the Scarrans. Locked deep within his new brain are fail safes and contingency code that will initiate a self-destruct sequence if he disobeys orders. That alone is not sufficient leverage to secure his cooperation. He needs a reason to care about his own survival. "That depends. Have you honored my request?"
Her face lights up with pride and a touch of something deeper. Perhaps Kalish women do have some sense of maternal instinct, though it could be a trick of the light as it plays on those turquoise eyes. "Oh, yes! The boy is magnificent! Jayza-- she is the lead of the cosmetic team-- she enjoyed the opportunity to employ some creativity. Usually bioloids are made to more exact specifications."
If he were still a man, his heart would be pounding in anticipation. The biomechanoid pump inside him does not respond to his surging emotions, which are no less real than they were before. He wonders if his real eyes would have teared and decides there will be many advantages to this new body. "The data transfer... his consciousness?" He can hardly articulate a question.
The technician shrugs. "Only you can judge that. Are you ready to meet him?"
He nods, unable to formulate words.
She taps her comm. "Jayza? Is he able to walk?"
Yes. Once he stopped being stubborn, he learned quickly. Shall I bring him to you?
"Yes, please." The technician smiles nervously, and reaches out to take his hand.
He squeezes her hand gently, aware of his increased strength, then pulls away, not wanting to be distracted by the contact. The microts drag by and he begins to pace. Finally, the door slides open with a faint pneumatic hiss and two figures enter. One is a tall Kalish woman that must be Jayza, and the other is an olive-skinned boy with glossy black hair and large, expressive eyes.
The boy moves forward with shambling, awkward steps, though his body is perfectly formed. He frowns in concentration, and when Jayza reaches to assist him, he pushes her away, determined to make his own way across the room. He looks up at the man and forces a lopsided smile. "This is more difficult than I guessed from watching you."
The man knows his real eyes would be streaming, even as he returns the boy's smile. "You are doing well, Talyn." He takes a step toward the bioloid that houses what was once a Leviathan hybrid.
"I hope so, Father." Thin mechanical arms wrap around the man's waist, and he wonders if the strength of the boy's embrace will damage his internal components. He decides he doesn't care. Let the Kalish repair him and bill the Scarrans for their efforts.
"I need a final run of diagnostics on each of you." The younger technician wears a smile, but her eyes have misted over.
"I'll take Talyn with me," Jayza offers. "One of your junior techs can collect the data, but I want to be there."
Talyn stands and shambles toward her. When he reaches her side, he turns back to look at Bialar. "It's ok-- I trust her. It's Gemmi you have to watch out for." He jerks his head toward the younger woman.
Jayza beams at Talyn before telling her colleague, "Remember to ask about what we discussed."
Gemmi nods, and Jayza leads Talyn from the room.
Bialar watches the young Kalish woman as she prepares a table full of equipment, flipping switches, adjusting displays, and arranging various tools. She moves with Peacekeeper-like efficiency, every gesture imbued with confidence and purpose. Engrossed in her work, she hums a tune he has heard quite recently.
"It was your voice I heard first, then?" he asks.
"Oh, was I..?" She turns to face him, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Sorry. It's a bad habit. Drives my techs half farbot."
He smiles, amused at how easily she becomes embarrassed. "It's quite alright. When I first heard that tune, I thought it was the voice of some hazmot luring me to the underworld. It sounds much less eerie when I have a face to go with the voice." In fact, her face would be lovely were it not for the odd coloration of her species.
"Sorry about that. I usually get all the sensors online at once, but with you, well, I didn't code any of your algorithms, so it's trial and error and lots of down time. I did insist that Jayza get your skin on before I connected your vision sensors. Here, come sit down." She gestures to an empty spot on the table.
"That was considerate." As he sits down, Bialar glances at his hands, not wanting to think about what lies beneath the skin, let alone see it. "I do not think I can adequately express my gratitude."
"Really?" Her face lights up. "It would have bothered you, seeing yourself with cables and tubes and wires--"
He holds up a hand. "It bothers me to hear about it."
She nods sharply, smirking with self-satisfaction. "Completely self-aware, aren't you?" She reaches behind his neck and he feels a moment of agonizing pain as she snaps something in place. "A true living consciousness. None of the other Kalish believed me, and the Scarran's only half-believe because they're hoping you can be a better spy than a standard bioloid. After seeing you with your son, I know you're as alive as I am. Talyn, though..." She shakes her head and spreads her hands.
"What is it? I was promised his successful animation if I agreed to the Scarran's request."
Gemmi sighs and begins systematically prodding him with what looks like a stylus, watching her instrument display as she does. Each jab sends a different sensation through him; after a few microts, tiny portions of his left arm have been burned, frozen, shocked, pressured, and stabbed.
Still continuing her painful explorations, she says, "It's what Jayza wanted me to ask you about. I tried the best I could with both you, but your son has some strange thinking. He told Jayza he's a Leviathan. And he had to be taught to walk, which is surprising, since your coding seems to include natural body movement. I'm not sure his data was entirely in tact, not to the extent that yours appears to be."
In between jabs, Bialar laughs, eliciting a confused frown from Gemmi. "Talyn was a Leviathan hybrid ship. It's his data spool you found. He was a new Peacekeeper technology, a ship that could be linked with a Sebaccean mind."
Gemmi's eyes widen with sudden understanding, and she drops her stylus. "So that's how your data was preserved! It's ingenious! It makes me a bit useless as a bioloid programmer, but still, it's so much better than the way I usually get my data. He was your project, then?"
"More than my 'project,' Gemmi."
"I didn't mean that in a disparaging way! You're my project."
"Yes, and I feel like a 'project.' You prod me like a laboratory animal." He rubs his arm for emphasis.
"I'm verifying your sensors. All bioloids are programmed to feel sensations normal for their species. It helps keep reactions natural, although you can actively ignore unpleasant sensations if you choose to, which means you can function better than your Sebaccean counterpart."
"You might have told me I could ignore it!" He picks up the stylus and touches it to his fingertip. After a few tries, he finds he can indeed will himself to see the pain as a signal, no more unsettling than a color, or the sound of a spoken word.
She shrugs. "I needed to measure your responses."
He considers observing a few of her responses and decides to put down the stylus before succumbing to the temptation.
She reaches behind his neck again, and this time he feels only a slight tug. "There. You're disconnected." Her hands slide down to his shoulders. "From now on, I'll simply ask you if everything is functional. No more prodding. It's not standard procedure, but then you're anything but a typical bioloid."
"Your consideration is appreciated." He pulls her hands down from his shoulders and finds himself reluctant to let go of them. The warmth and softness of her skin is a reminder of all the simple pleasures he thought he had sacrificed, all the things she has made possible for him to experience again.
Flushing a deep shade of red, she pulls her hands away from his and begins shutting down her equipment. "You're not Kalish, either," she mutters.
"No," he agrees, wondering what her point is. "I cannot even call myself Sebaccean, though in my mind, I always will be."
Facing him, but not meeting his eyes, she says, "If you were a normal bioloid, I'd be completely farbot for asking. Well, I wouldn't ask! I mean, I don't, I'm not... never mind. And if you were Kalish, it would be considered improper, since in a way, I hardly know you, though in another way, I do, because I've seen your code. Not that we have 'code', per se--"
"Are you asking me to recreate with you?" He blinks in astonishment and stares at her, attempting to decide if his gratitude toward her is enough to make up for her Kalishness.
"Ah, yes, well, I wouldn't have used exactly that term." She reaches out and takes one of his hands.
He chuckles, feeling a surge of fondness for her that has more to do with her awkward fumbling than the fact that she saved his life. Objectively, Gemmi is more attractive than most Sebaccean women, though the Peacekeeper in him says otherwise. He answers her question by sliding his free arm around her waist and bringing her close to him. She has given him a second chance to live, and he has no intention of letting old ways of thinking keep him from having what he wants.