Chapter Five
The placard said Surgical Office. The opaque gray doors were otherwise non-descriptive against the unmarked length of the walls.
Malcolm pressed his thumb over the data-pad next to the door frame, which caused the door opened, revealingl a pristine white room with a reclining chair placed in the middle.
Another door on the opposing wall soon revealed a middle-aged man dressed in the same clinical white, pushing a cart forward next to the chair. He, like the room, was unremarkable but for the practiced ease in his movements.
"Agent Reed, please sit down and we'll begin the procedure as soon as the anesthetic sets in." The man, his coat said Doctor Castor, waited with a hypospray in hand, but making no move to approach him, his stillness indicating to Malcolm that he had done the procedure many times and had become aware of the agents' reluctance to let their guard down. It was a job hazard that had kept Malcolm alive more times than he could count. He had to take the initiative and let the doctor into his space.
"I'm here for the standard issue implant," Malcolm said, walking toward the chair. He was not familiar with the procedure, which was instituted this after his retirement.
"Yes." The doctor agreed with a cursory smile. "We don't get many senior agents for those these days."
After a moment's pause, Malcolm sat. The position made him more vulnerable than he would have liked, but he managed not to jump when the anesthetic was injected.
"Perhaps you could fill me in..." His speech slurred as he envisioned his lips going slack. He gripped the cold handles of the seat and found a small comfort in the cool sensation.
Castor complied with the enthusiasm of an automaton. "This is an oral implant of a neurotoxin designed to cause acute incurable encephalitis, in most cases people will become comatose within five hours. You are, of course, immunized against it, as all the agents are."
The laser scalpel in the man's hand started with a pestilent whine. It hissed as it sliced through his left cheek, relegating it to two yawning flaps of skin. Watching with what his peripheral vision would allow, Malcolm followed the procedure with morbid fascination, feeling nothing as the doctor inserted the small capsule into the raw flesh. It was an interesting sensation, being disassociated from his own body.
"You'll only need to bite on your cheek," Castor continued dispassionately as he began to suture, "to break the capsule. The appropriate amount of toxin will be released each time you do it. The capsule has been designed to integrate with your own body's coagulation cascade reactions to self heal after each release. The toxin itself is permeable through the skin, although in this case, the quickest route of administration is through sub-lingual absorption. The details of this technique are in the main data-frame."
The suturing instrument finished with an audible snap. Castor took a deliberate step away and it was all Malcolm needed to know the operation was complete.
"Lots of trouble," Malcolm murmured, flexing his jaw a bit, though he still couldn't feel much. He knew enough not to touch the healing skin.
Wheeling the cart back to the room beyond, Castor didn't bother turning around as his disembodied voice echoed from the walls.
"Studies have shown that sudden death tends to arouse suspicion, whereas if the mark were diseased before death, there are fewer inquires as to what happened."
The door closed, leaving Malcolm alone once more. The encounter was unreal, if not for the fact that he still had no control over his face. His skin, however, prickled underneath his clothes. He realized suddenly, the room was rather chilly.
The placard said Surgical Office. The opaque gray doors were otherwise non-descriptive against the unmarked length of the walls.
Malcolm pressed his thumb over the data-pad next to the door frame, which caused the door opened, revealingl a pristine white room with a reclining chair placed in the middle.
Another door on the opposing wall soon revealed a middle-aged man dressed in the same clinical white, pushing a cart forward next to the chair. He, like the room, was unremarkable but for the practiced ease in his movements.
"Agent Reed, please sit down and we'll begin the procedure as soon as the anesthetic sets in." The man, his coat said Doctor Castor, waited with a hypospray in hand, but making no move to approach him, his stillness indicating to Malcolm that he had done the procedure many times and had become aware of the agents' reluctance to let their guard down. It was a job hazard that had kept Malcolm alive more times than he could count. He had to take the initiative and let the doctor into his space.
"I'm here for the standard issue implant," Malcolm said, walking toward the chair. He was not familiar with the procedure, which was instituted this after his retirement.
"Yes." The doctor agreed with a cursory smile. "We don't get many senior agents for those these days."
After a moment's pause, Malcolm sat. The position made him more vulnerable than he would have liked, but he managed not to jump when the anesthetic was injected.
"Perhaps you could fill me in..." His speech slurred as he envisioned his lips going slack. He gripped the cold handles of the seat and found a small comfort in the cool sensation.
Castor complied with the enthusiasm of an automaton. "This is an oral implant of a neurotoxin designed to cause acute incurable encephalitis, in most cases people will become comatose within five hours. You are, of course, immunized against it, as all the agents are."
The laser scalpel in the man's hand started with a pestilent whine. It hissed as it sliced through his left cheek, relegating it to two yawning flaps of skin. Watching with what his peripheral vision would allow, Malcolm followed the procedure with morbid fascination, feeling nothing as the doctor inserted the small capsule into the raw flesh. It was an interesting sensation, being disassociated from his own body.
"You'll only need to bite on your cheek," Castor continued dispassionately as he began to suture, "to break the capsule. The appropriate amount of toxin will be released each time you do it. The capsule has been designed to integrate with your own body's coagulation cascade reactions to self heal after each release. The toxin itself is permeable through the skin, although in this case, the quickest route of administration is through sub-lingual absorption. The details of this technique are in the main data-frame."
The suturing instrument finished with an audible snap. Castor took a deliberate step away and it was all Malcolm needed to know the operation was complete.
"Lots of trouble," Malcolm murmured, flexing his jaw a bit, though he still couldn't feel much. He knew enough not to touch the healing skin.
Wheeling the cart back to the room beyond, Castor didn't bother turning around as his disembodied voice echoed from the walls.
"Studies have shown that sudden death tends to arouse suspicion, whereas if the mark were diseased before death, there are fewer inquires as to what happened."
The door closed, leaving Malcolm alone once more. The encounter was unreal, if not for the fact that he still had no control over his face. His skin, however, prickled underneath his clothes. He realized suddenly, the room was rather chilly.