“What are these?”
“Nanites,” Cy replied. “They’ll help with the tissue repair. And there’s a hormone stimulant in the gel that’s causing her to release endorphins—to cover up the pain. She should rest now.”
“This POM tech?”
He didn’t look at me. “Yeah. Developed for the security forces. Useful for wounds in the field.”
“Amazing what money can get you. I assume this isn’t available to the public?”
He shrugged and stood up. “POM lost one of its biggest pieces of military tech to some extremists recently. They’ve been a lot less inclined to share their new developments since then. Don’t want to lose their edge, ya know?” He finally locked eyes with me, and now it was my turn to look away.
“How’s she look?” he asked, motioning to my Vysor.
“Looks like she’s stabilizing.”
“Well, I’m no nurse, so my job’s done.”
I turned back to Taos and reached for her hand—until his came down on my shoulder.
“You’re not a nurse either. Let the tech work. Come on, you need a drink.”
“Just give me a minute with her.”
He nodded, leaving us alone.
I grabbed some gauze from his kit, gently trying to clean the soot and blood from her hair. Her eyes opened slowly, pained but clear.
“E? I’m alive?”
“Yeah, you’re gonna be okay.”
At that, she laughed. “I’ve never been okay.”
The neural implant behind her ear flashed nonstop, working to fight the pain. I knew better than most how futile that was.
“What’s that implant for, Taos?”
She closed her eyes, and I thought maybe she’d fallen asleep.
“Advanced fibromyalgia. I’ve had it since I was fifteen.”
She paused again, her lungs straining. “My family made billions treating conditions like mine.” Taos gasped, each word clearly costing her. “But never curing them. Why cure what you can treat forever?” She struggled to control her breathing. “Even their precious daughter wasn’t worth developing a permanent solution for.”
There was something in her tone beyond pain—resentment, sure, but also envy as her gaze flicked to my hands where small arcs of electricity danced unconsciously between my fingers. I gently threaded my fingers through hers, cutting off the display.
“That’s why you joined Tanaka’s lab. Looking for alternatives?”
“She understood. Digital consciousness wouldn’t just preserve memories—it could liberate us entirely. Change everything. That’s why I took the code.” Her fingers tightened around mine. “You were always her favorite, you know. The things you could do intuitively that the rest of us had to struggle through…”
Sure. A favorite she discarded the moment I faltered.
Even now, half-conscious and in pain, that competitive edge crept into Taos’ voice. Her eyes met mine, desperate for understanding. “The code we worked on, E—it was never just about research. It was about transcendence. Liberation through technology.”
“That’s what the Church is trying to do with the chip removals,” I murmured, realization hitting. “They’re trying to separate consciousness from the body. Find some kind of immortality.”
“They’re trying the same thing, but crudely. Destructively.” Her gaze intensified. “But I can make it work, E. I’ve been refining the approach. With the right resources, the right…catalyst…”
She looked at me meaningfully, and I understood—she meant my Flux abilities. Something she couldn’t replicate, no matter how much family money or technological enhancement she acquired.
