Chapter 27: The Tour

"Enough, Child!" King T'Chaka towered over Shuri in the throne room, the guards behind him.

Her mother stared at her, arms crossed, expression disapproving.

Shuri met her father's firm gaze, hoping she didn't look as tired as she felt. She knew she'd messed up. All the more reason to continue. "One does not quit because of a set-back. Success is born of persistence. Isn't that what you've taught us?"

"That man almost killed Aneka," her mother interjected.

"It is a minor injury, and unintentional." Shuri took a breath. Her parents had not seen the things she had. She could not expect them to understand. "The things that were done to his mind are not so easy to fix, but I am confident I can repair at least some of the damage done by evil men who worked only with primitive, outdated tools and methods."

"He is not our problem," the King said.

"Wakanda cannot stay in the shadows much longer, Father. A threat to the world is a threat to us. We did nothing when aliens invaded New York. We will face another threat in less than three years. Wakanda will survive or perish with the rest of the world. Our fates are intertwined."

"He is not relevant to the pending invasion… if such a thing occurs," the King said. "We cannot even be sure of that. We are taking the word of strangers."

Shuri gritted her teeth in frustration. "I suppose you think the New York attack was faked? That aliens pose no threat?"

Her father straightened. "Enough, Shuri!"

She'd crossed a line. He was on the verge of ordering Bucky to leave. If that happened, she'd have done him more harm than good. Deconstructing the Winter Soldier programming was a painful, dangerous process, and one that could not be left unfinished.

"Please, Father. Because I already started the process with him, it would be cruel and unethical to leave it incomplete. We would be leaving him far worse off than he was when he came here. He needs our help."

Her father's dark eyes studied her. Then, his nostrils flared, he huffed and turned away. "I am trusting you to maintain appropriate safety measures. If that man harms another Wakandan, there will be consequences."

She bowed her head, "Thank you, Father. I understand."

Her mother walked to her and placed her arms on Shuri's shoulder. "You have not slept. Ayo tells me you worked nonstop in your lab. I will not allow you to continue your work until you have fully rested."

Shuri nodded. She would have words with Ayo later. "Of course, mother."

-0- -0- -0-

Half the day and another night came and went. Bucky barely touched food, which worried Steve. At least Bucky had managed to sleep a couple of hours at a time before he'd spring awake, wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

The following morning brought a knock on their door. Steve cast a glance at Bucky, who was propped up on the bed, reading a book.

Steve opened the door to see Ayo standing at the ready, a cart of food to her right. "I bring breakfast."

"Thank you." He stepped aside to let her in, grabbing the cart and wheeling it inside.

Bucky stood up, book discarded on the bed, his eyes not quite meeting Ayo's. It was obvious how he felt about the last incident, even if he didn't remember it.

Ayo gave Bucky a long look. Her eyes drifted to the empty shoulder at his left side, then to his face. "Shuri sends her regrets…"

Bucky swallowed and nodded. "We're being kicked out."

Ayo tapped her spear on the floor. "I am not finished, James."

Bucky looked suitably chastised. "

"She sends her regrets that she is unable to check on you personally this morning," Ayo continued. "She asked me to inquire how well you slept."

"I guess I did okay." Bucky shrugged. "I don't feel like a zombie, anymore, so there's that." He finally met her gaze. "How is the woman I injured?"

"She is well," Ayo answered. "The injury is not causing her significant pain, and she should be able to resume her duties in a couple of weeks."

"What's her name?" Bucky asked.

"Aneka."

"Will you relay my apology?"

Ayo nodded. "I will, though an apology is not needed. You were not responsible."

"I chose to come here. That makes it my responsibility."

Ayo gave an acknowledging tilt of her head. "Shuri also asked that I give you a tour of the city. The King has approved, with appropriate safety precautions, if you're amenable. She feels that fresh air and sunshine will have therapeutic value."

Steve didn't like the sound of that. "What safety precautions?" He moved closer to Bucky and faced the Dora Milaje.

Ayo gave them both a lingering look. "It is requested that you join us, Captain Rogers, as well as Ms. Maximoff, as she has displayed useful abilities. Prince T'Challa will also accompany us."

"Of course," Steve said.

"When is the tour?" Bucky asked.

"In two hours. In the meantime, please nourish yourselves." She tilted her head toward the cart. "I will return to collect you at that time."

Reassured by her words and demeanor, Steve thought an outing might be just the thing to combat the cycle of stress and boredom brought by the last few days. "Thank you."

When she left, Steve checked out the breakfast offering. There was flatbread, slices of goat cheese, eggs, a tower of grilled chicken.

Bucky piled his plate high, filled a glass with water, and sat in an armchair, balancing his plate on his knee. It was good to see the man's appetite had returned.

Steve took his plate and cup to the other armchair and set his glass on the small table between the two chairs as he dug into his eggs.

Bucky cleaned a drumstick it to the bone so quickly that Steve's fork hovered in the air halfway to his mouth as he stared in stunned fascination. Next Bucky went for a breast, biting off a large chunk of the white meat. His eyes rolled back in his head in delight. Seconds later, the bone was clean, but Bucky dissected the remains, holding pieces in his teeth while ripping it apart with his hand to access the cartilage.

Gross.

In fascination, Steve watched, wide-eyed, lowering his fork. At the speed Bucky was devouring his food, it would be likely to come back up. "You might want to slow down."

Was that a growl?

Bucky's ducked his head, and a flush of pink touched his cheeks. Bits of chicken skin stuck to his lips and chin. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, got to his feet, and piled three more pieces on his plate—a breast and two drumsticks—then carried the dish one-armed back to the chair.

Steve shook his head and focused on his own food, trying to ignore the live action National Geographic scene happening a few feet away.

-0- -0- -0-

Wanda welcomed the news that they were getting a tour of the city. She wasn't sure how long they'd be in Wakanda but being confined to the room or the lab wasn't what she envisioned when Steve asked her to be part of the team. Had she known, she'd have downloaded more games to her phone.

She was ready when the knock sounded at her door. She opened it to see Steve, Barnes, T'Challa and, in the rear, two Dora Milaje.

She tried to make sure her eyes didn't hover too long on Barnes. It was both hard to resist looking at him and painful to make eye contact. The flashes she'd seen when she touched his mind were… barbaric… more than she had been prepared for.

It made her regret even more her involvement with Hydra. She had been stupid, twisting her pain into vengeance. She and Pietro had inadvertently helped Ultron destroy her country.

God, how she missed Pietro.

It took a moment for her to realize that Prince T'Challa had asked a question as he extended her an arm.

"Excuse me?" she prompted.

"If you are still willing to accompany us, it would be my honor to show you the city," the Prince said.

She managed a smile and took his arm. He was practiced at the social graces, making it seem like her presence was a delight instead of a safety requirement. She hoped her talents would not be needed, and she really hoped she never had to touch Barnes' mind again.

As they ventured out of the Citadel, a wide, open-topped mini-bus waited. A Dora Milaje was at the center front, behind a console with a half-moon shaped steering wheel. The vehicle had eight spacious passenger seats arranged in a square, facing one another with enough room to walk easily between the seats. As they approached, the side of the vehicle disappeared, as if by magic, and they climbed aboard.

When they were all seated, the bus gave a low hum and lifted into the air. The motion surprised her. The vehicle had wheels, so she assumed it would travel on the ground. Instead, she found herself 75 feet in the air, sailing away from the Citadel and into the cluster of skyscrapers.

She glanced at Barnes. He was slack-jawed, his eyes wide with wonder as he stared at the city below. His eyes darted in every direction, taking in the many sights, then they went even wider, and he pointed over Wanda's right shoulder.

"What is that?"

She turned to see what looked like a glowing purple racetrack with branches spanning multiple stories and connecting half a dozen buildings.

T'Challa smiled. "This is the heart of what you might call our business district. The inethiwekhi allows easy traversal between structures while utilizing the energy from the sun and vibranium to provide clean power to the buildings."

"Far more efficient than waiting for an elevator to go down one building, just to wait for another elevator to go up another building," the Dora Milaje Okoye stated flatly. "Also, there are never power outages."

The hovering bus set down in in front of a massive building. T'Challa led the way, and the Dora Maleje took up the rear. Wanda followed, with Steve and Barnes behind her, directly in front of the royal guards.

They toured the city on foot, stopping at street vendors. The prince chatted casually and amicably with the proprietors. Wanda eyed one booth with a selection of colorful jewelry. Her gaze swept the bright necklaces and bold bracelets.

She had no Wakandan currency—whatever it was they used.

"Do you see something you like?" the Prince asked her.

She nodded. "It's all beautiful."

"Pick whatever you like. It will be a gift from me as gratitude for your intervention. You prevented a tragedy."

She wasn't sure whether he was talking about her stopping Barnes from injuring the Wakandans, vice versa, or both. She didn't dare look back at Barnes's face, but she forced a smile. "I don't need anything in exchange for doing my job."

"I insist." He looked solemnly at her, only a hint of a smile at the edges of his mouth. "It is quite rude in Wakanda to refuse a gift."

"Especially from the Prince," Okoye added.

Wanda glanced at Steve uncertainly. He offered a reassuring tilt of his head. She smiled shyly at the Prince and pointed to a dangling silver necklace with a round green pendant. "That is lovely."

The Prince waved, and the vendor boxed up the necklace and handed it to her with a bow of his head.

Wanda tucked the square box in her pocket. "Thank you, your, uh…highness."

They spent the next few hours walking the streets, trying local foods, and strolling through an almost magical park that snaked through the city. It had streams, wide trees, and colorful flowers.

Whenever she caught a glimpse of Barnes' face, it registered awe. He and Rogers remained noticeably quiet during the excursion, content to follow along and take in the sights. The Dora Milaje respected Barnes' space, keeping at least six feet away whenever possible, but they maintained strategic positions in order to intervene quickly if needed.

Okoye paid her special attention. T'Challa might appear comfortable with her abilities, but the Dora Milaje had obviously not ruled her out as a potential threat.

"What do you think of the city, Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers?" T'Challa turned to face the two men.

Steve nodded and gave a diplomatic smile. "It's one of the most beautiful I've seen."

"Impressive," Barnes agreed.

They spent the day taking in the highlights the city had to offer. Working through the History & Culture Museum took much of the afternoon. Wanda was mesmerized by the artwork, tribal music, and immersive holographic exhibits.

They ate dinner at a local café. The food was northern African—a variety of seafood offerings along with goat, lamb, nuts, vegetables, and fruit. It was delicious. She stuffed herself beyond the point of comfort, while the two super soldiers impressed everyone except T'Challa with how much food they managed to devour.

By the time they were escorted back to their rooms, Wanda was ready for bed. T'Challa bid them farewell. Wanda said her goodnights to Steve and Bucky. Both men looked more relaxed than they had in the morning. She was happy to see softer lines around Bucky's eyes and the hint of a tired smile. Getting out had been good for them.

She hadn't wanted to be privy to the brutality he endured. She didn't know what she expected when she agreed to accompany them, but anything she imagined paled compared to the reality of what Barnes suffered. She hoped Shuri and her team could help him. Barnes deserved to be wrapped and smothered in peace and good things for the rest of his life.

He might not get it if an alien invasion was on its way. She tried not to think about that as she walked into her room and prepared for sleep.

-0- -0- -0-

Bucky rested on top of the covers in the darkness, thinking over the day's events. The museum was the most impressive he'd seen, but he realized that wasn't saying much. Outside of his visit to the Smithsonian, the last time he'd been in a museum was when he and Steve snuck into the Natural History Museum and the Met in 1940.

It was so much easier to trespass before the digital era. They never had to worry about cameras. Guards were easily distracted. Security measures were laughable in comparison to today's standards.

The History & Culture Museum was a monument of the ancient mixed with modern marvels. Walls of artwork on stone walls made it seem as though he were standing 10,000 years in the past. The music section delivered hauntingly beautiful sounds in the styles of the five Wakandan tribes as they strolled through a guided tour.

The immersive holographic exhibit had been overwhelming at first, raising the hair on his arm and setting his internal alarms blaring when he found himself surrounded by holographic figures. It felt too much like his sleep hallucinations. Then Steve raised his hand and gently swiped it through the holograms.

"Pretty cool, huh, Buck?"

He looked over at his friend and managed a shaky smile. "Yeah, cool."

He walked through the holographic figures onto the next section—the history and development of the Wakandan Design Group. He learned that Shuri's flagship laboratory was located above the Great Mound, the world's only known source of Vibranium.

He was vaguely aware of drifting as he replayed the day in his mind. His thoughts slipped to dreams of glowing purple sky bridges, soulful music, and flickering campfires.

A clinking noise woke him. Soft light filtered through the window. The stiff scent of coffee mixed with soothing vanilla and cinnamon filled his nose. He blinked and lifted his head. Steve was up, his hair damp, seated in the armchair near the bed. A steaming cup and a plate of pancakes and eggs were on the small table in front of him.

Steve grinned as he levered his fork through the pile of pancakes. "You slept like a rock." He popped the fluffy forkful into his mouth and chewed happily.

Bucky's stomach grumbled awake in response to the symphony of aromas. "Pancakes smell good."

"Banana walnut," Steve commented after swallowing.

Bucky rolled quickly out of bed and headed toward the breakfast cart, almost tripping over Steve's pile of socks and shoes on the floor. "Come on, man, eighty years, and you still can't put your shoes out of the way?"

Steve rolled his eyes around a mouthful of food.

Bucky made himself a plate, smothering the tower of fried dough with calorie-dense butter and syrup and setting it aside to fill a large mug with equal parts coffee, milk, and sugar. Being one-armed meant several trips to the seating area to set things down on the table while Steve watched and ate with an almost smug expression on his face.

Bucky wasn't sure what that was about, but he downed a large gulp of coffee and then dug into the fluffy stack of pancakes. They tasted like cozy winter mornings in Brooklyn.

"Sweet tooth this morning?" Steve asked with a smirk.

Bucky swallowed and promptly slew another section of pancakes. "Mind your own business, Rogers."

Steve's laughter brought a smile to his face. It was a good morning. He finished the pancakes, followed up with eggs to ensure his day started off with some protein, and then hit the shower.

When he came out, he saw Steve speaking with a holographic version of Shuri hovering above a Kimoyo bead.

"Sergeant B…I mean Bucky," Shuri greeted as he walked up to Steve, "how are you feeling?"

"Pretty good."

She smiled brightly. "How did you sleep?"

"He slept like a rock last night… finally." Steve glanced at him.

"Any nightmares?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not last night that I remember."

"How about yesterday? The other night?"

"Nothing unusual." He hoped she left it at that.

"Did you both enjoy the tour of the city?"

"Yes," Bucky answered.

"Absolutely," Steve concurred.

"That pleases me to hear." Her face grew serious. "Bucky, I've processed and compared the data derived from all our sessions. I would like to begin neural reconfiguration therapy."

"What?" Steve asked.

"Brain surgery," she clarified. "Destroying the pathways identified as exclusive to the Winter Soldier activation."

The mound of breakfast in his stomach suddenly seemed like a rock. They'd talked about the procedure before, but he still wasn't completely clear on the details. "How is that going to work?"

"It will require several sessions. To ensure the best possible outcome, with minimal loss of personal memories, we'll start with a conservative approach—destroying small clusters individually, with breaks of one to three days in between each session for evaluation and testing. I've arranged the sessions in order of increasing cluster size."

From the periphery of his vision, Bucky caught the flicker of horror on Steve's face.

"Just so I'm clear," Bucky began, "you're going to destroy sections of my brain, day by day, test me in between to make sure I'm not a blabbering idiot, until you've destroyed enough that the Winter Soldier is dead?"

Shuri's expression fell into an insulted mask. "That is… not quite accurate. It is far less barbaric than you describe. Neurons are lost every year in normal human brains, as much as one percent of our total brain mass each year after adulthood. All sessions combined should result in less than a 0.2% loss. Any ancillary functions lost should be compensated for by renewed synaptic connections, but the destroyed neurons will be gone completely, so there will be nothing to heal or regenerate."

"Can you say that again in English?" Steve asked.

Shuri looked like someone talking to a toddler who keeps asking 'why.' "You won't lose many brain cells, and the neurons we destroy will be gone forever, so the Winter Soldier program should be eliminated permanently… in theory."

"If it works," Bucky added.

She nodded. "There is, of course, no way to test it in advance, but the algorithm and computer modeling predict success with minimal side effects two to three weeks post-surgery."

"Um, what kind of side effects?" Bucky asked.

"Headache, nausea, forgetfulness, mood swings," she rattled off. "They should resolve completely within three weeks."

Great. Steve and the others will be thrilled to spend three weeks tiptoeing around a former assassin super soldier suffering from mood swings.

He turned to Steve. "Sorry in advance, Pal." He tried for a light tone, though his insides felt like he was digesting a porcupine.

Steve managed a smile that looked like he was on the verge of losing his breakfast. "So, you'll be PMSing for a few weeks. Manageable."

"What the hell is PMSing?"

"That's a gender-insensitive comment that I will let pass given the circumstances," holographic Shuri interjected.

Oh. Mood swings.

He figured out the reference, even if he couldn't decipher the acronym.

"When?" Bucky asked Shuri.

"I'd like to start the first session this afternoon."

"What?" Steve's voice rose an octave. "For brain surgery?"

She gave him a tolerant smile. "It is a minimally invasive surgery. Vibranium fibers, thinner and more advanced than the ones Hydra implanted decades ago, will be used to target specific neurons. Bucky, you will remain awake the entire time. Pain should be minimal. The first procedure should take no more than an hour, including a pre-procedure evaluation. You'll stay another 30 minutes for observation after the procedure."

"Okay." He saw no point in waiting. The Wakandans likely wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible.

"The Dora Milaje will bring you to my lab at 3 p.m. A light lunch will be sent to your room midday, along with a container of liquid for you, Bucky. Consume all the liquid at 2 p.m. It will provide your system with easily absorbed energy and nutrients and minimize post-surgical nausea."

"Sure thing." Bucky managed a weak salute as the holographic image vanished.

Steve looked at him. "You still sure about this? It's okay to change your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind." He slid onto the mattress, propped his back against the headboard, and grabbed his phone from the table in between the two beds.

"I didn't think you would. But just know, if you want to pull the plug at any time, it's okay."

He looked up at Steve. A warm feeling spread in his chest. "Thanks, man."

Then, he Googled 'PMSing' and scrunched his nose. "Hope I don't get tender breasts."

Steve laughed so hard, he snorted.

-0- -0- -0-

After spending 40 minutes at Shuri's workstation taking a test of his memory, math, and language skills that had him feeling like he was back in school, Bucky found himself once again on the exam table, his back and legs in the zero-g configuration. His right arm and legs were encased in vibranium restraints. His left arm remained in the bottom drawer of the dresser, back in the room.

Steve and Wanda stood on one side of the table, and Shuri was on the other, a tablet in one hand and something that looked very much like a large Kimoyo bead with a flat bottom in the other.

"This will be attached to your skull, no shaving required. It will sterilize the area beneath in preparation for insertion." Shuri explained. "Then, it will insert a vibranium fiber 0.5 micrometers wide through your skull and into your brain, targeting a cluster of neurons identified by the algorithm. A congruent 0.5 micrometer of skull will be dissolved as the fiber passes through, so no bone fragments will enter your brain tissue. The tiny puncture will close on its own. You may feel the insertion, but it will take only a fraction of a second. Once in place, an intense, localized emission of electromagnetic radiation will destroy the targeted neurons. That process will take 10 to 12 seconds. Then the fiber will retract. I'll keep you for observation for thirty minutes, and if there are no complications, Ayo will escort you back to your rooms."

Bucky took a deep breath as he met Shuri's dark gaze, then gave a nod. She placed the device on the top of his skull, just left of center.

"It's gonna be okay, Buck." Steve's warm hand descended on his shoulder and gave a firm squeeze.

Bucky's insides felt like pudding, but he managed a smile that felt more like a grimace. "It's just a tiny lobotomy. I probably lost more brain cells from the stench of the socks you left all over the place in our apartment."

Steve smiled and gave his shoulder another squeeze. "Hey, Pal, you invited me to move in and split the rent with you. You knew what you were getting."

Bucky tried for a chuckle, but his chest was tight, and his lungs were barely moving air.

"Are you ready, Bucky?" Shuri asked.

He swallowed hard. "I guess so."

Shuri's fingers slid across the bottom of her tablet. He felt a pinprick of pain, so brief it was gone by the time his brain registered it. A slight ache lingered.

"How was that?" Shuri asked.

"Better than I imagined," he answered her.

She smiled. "I'm activating it now."

The bead gave a soft hum, but he felt nothing other than the residual ache where the fiber pierced his skull.

Twenty seconds later, the hum died.

"All finished," Shuri said, with a slight frown as her fingers danced over the tablet. "The process took a bit longer than I estimated. The protective effects of the serum are significant. I'll adjust the algorithm for future sessions." She looked up at him. "How do you feel?"

He shrugged his left shoulder. "Okay. No different."

She patted his chest. "Good. You probably won't notice any side effects until the eighth or ninth session."

"If someone said the words right now, they could still control me?" Bucky asked.

"Almost certainly." Shuri handed the tablet to one of the techs and removed the device from his skull. "The other alternative is to do all the sessions at once, but it is safer to spread them out so that we can evaluate you in between and minimize any unintended adverse effects. We'll do another session in 24 hours and repeat the cognitive tests every other session."

"Understood." Bucky looked at Steve. "See, no sweat."

Steve's brow was furrowed. "The pain wasn't bad?"

"Not at all. I've had much worse, and I don't even mean Hydra. Less than a bee sting."