Neon Helix Read online

  “Brain… gone…”

  “Jesus, I had no idea.”

  “It happened out the blue," the nurse chimed in, “quite surprising, Donovan had clear records, then one day his mind stopped working.”

  Donovan shook and grunted as the nurse spoke, attracting Xander's attention back. His eyes wide and breathing hard, he stared at Xander.

  “Mind. Lock. Cybio,.” He stuttered out.

  Xander knitted his brow. “CyBio? What have they got to do with it?” He glanced up to Ava. “Mind lock? Does that mean anything to you?”

  Ava tilted her head to the side as she accessed the Net.

  “Searching. Mind Lock was a code name for an experimental procedure Cy-Bio were working on. Something to do with locking patients mobile and mental faculties to help keep patients subdued for surgeries. It never left the prototype stage though because of issues with rehabilitation following the procedure.” Ava reeled off the information.

  “You’re telling me someone did this to him?” Xander asked, anger rising in his voice.

  “If that is the mind lock he is referring to, then yes,” Ava replied, “And likely someone from CyBio or someone who had access to their files.”

  “Anything we can do to get him out of it?” Xander was looking at Donovan’s eyes which looked excited at conversation.

  “Let me see what I can find, the files are quite encrypted in the Cy-Bio servers,” Ava closed her eyes as she worked.

  Donovan was straining to speak again, Xander crouched down.

  “We’ll get you out of this Lance, I’ll figure it out, then we’ll take down those Cy-Bastards for this.”

  “N…Nurse,” Donovan blurted out, moments before a knife flew past Xander’s head and stuck into the centre of the television screen behind him, the screen cracking.

  Xander looked up to see the nurse posed in a fighting position, a blade was emerging from her forearm, until its point was just at her wrist. A small flick and the blade shot out like a bullet towards Xander. He dived behind the sofa and crawled, as several more blades impaled the wall and television behind him.

  “AVA!” Xander screamed. “Get to cover!”

  Ava didn’t move, engrossed in the work she was doing decrypting the files. The nurse turned and moved towards her, only a few paces away.

  Xander looked up, pulling his revolver from his holster, he fired several shots directly at the nurse. With cat-like agility, she bent and dodged each bullet, despite them being only six feet away.

  She turned towards Xander, leaping over the sofa and crashing into him, fists flying into his chest. They rolled over the floor, each trying to get the upper hand.

  “I really…don’t want to hit a girl,” Xander wheezed between hits.

  A well-placed punch to the side of her face and Xander noticed the skin was loose around her cheekbone from the hit. A glint of metal and no blood.

  “You’re a synthetic?”

  “Time to die Mr Draven,” the nurse spoke, her voice cold and uncaring. She raised her hand, and another blade slotted into place. Xander could see this time that the blade emerged from a slot within her forearm. She brought it down towards his face. Both his hands were trying to hold back the arm but her strength was greater and the blade was getting closer.

  Suddenly, the force stopped and Xander could push the nurse away. As he did, he saw Ava standing over them both, in her hand was a blade which she’d pulled from the wall. The nurse rolled over, revealing a mess of wiring protruding from the back of her neck.

  “All major functions of a synthetic travel through the neck, as an attempt to match the central nervous system of a human,” Ava described.

  “Thanks, good to know,” Xander said, as he pulled himself to his feet.

  “As for Mr Donovan here, I believe our only chance of bringing him back lies is a cortex guided release.”

  “A what now?” Xander looked at her, beginning to realise there was a lot to this world he didn’t understand.

  “Simply put, one of us will need to enter Donovan’s mind and help bring him out. The Mind Lock device implanted in his brain has a back door escape to release his motor functions, though to get there he needs to be guided. The reasoning being, that if a patient could do it themselves, then they’d run for the door as soon as they got scared during a procedure.”

  “O… k… and we can do this?” Xander was hesitant but there wasn’t the time for fear.

  “I can be the linking bridge to connect you, I believe, yes.”

  Xander looked at Donovan whose eyes pleaded with Xander.

  “Let’s do this then,” Xander sighed and thought of a nice easy protection case he could be working on right now instead.

  CHAPTER 12

  Prime

  Reilly was running down the aisle of chambers, towards the changing rooms. Behind him, he could hear footsteps running towards him. He dared a glance back and could make out two silhouettes coming towards him.

  Arriving at the door, he yanked it open and rushed inside, slamming the door behind him, as he looked for something to block it. The changing room was sparse, except for the lockers. He continued to the other door, but it wouldn’t open without the retina scan. He paused, not wanting to use it. Deep down he knew that it was a source of, something, which affected his mind. The mere thought of using it made his head ache.

  He looked back at the other door, it wouldn’t be long before they’d arrive. Before he could think what to do, the retina door opened from the other side. Another person walked in, they were wearing a waiter's outfit and looked straight ahead as they walked in.

  “Oh, hi,” Reilly said, not thinking what to say without looking suspicious. He got no response.

  He quickly put his foot in the doorway and jumped through. Once more in the hotel's foyer, he looked around, the whole hotel before him. Slowly, he remembered the layout, like a half-forgotten memory. Stepping forward, he smiled at the guests and employees as they made their way around the hotel.

  He needed somewhere to hide, somewhere they wouldn’t look for him. Glancing towards the main entrance, he saw two security guards checking anyone who walked through. Outside, he glimpsed the rowdy guests from before, this triggered an idea.

  “Hey Janice,” Reilly smiled as he walked up to the reception desk.

  “Oh, hi, I thought you were finished?” She queried.

  “Oh, erm, yes. But. I was asked to check over the room Mr Hall was meant to be having this evening,” he pointed to the drunken guests who were still arguing outside. “Just so we can resell it,” he lied, hoping that Janice, being the friendly receptionist, would be accommodating.

  “I see, well it was Suite number 7, though I don’t see what there is to check, as obviously the room hasn’t been touched?” She questioned.

  “Oh yeah, you’re probably right! You know how they can be though,” he smiled and headed away before she could ask any more questions.

  Once he knew she wasn’t looking, he ducked up the stairs, half running, as he checked behind him. No one was following him but there seemed to be several security officers asking questions, dotted around the foyer.

  He arrived at the Suite and tried the door. Locked as expected, he put his shoulder to it, but it was too strong. He glanced around him and tried to think. He was sure the housekeeping office was close, they’d have a master key. Running down the tiled corridor, he kept his eyes out for any security. Luckily, he made it to the office with no issues. He stopped to listen, he could hear a voice inside. He caught his breath and walked in casually.

  “Evening guys, sorry to bother you, but it looks like someone’s been sick outside suite 20,” he spoke with as much authority as he could, knowing that the staff would be quick to react to anything which hindered the guest experience in the hotel. They jumped up and left the room. Reilly let them pass, then searched the office for a key.

  It wasn’t long before he had found it and was on his way back to the suite. He unlocked the door and went
inside. It was a large Victorian style room with a mahogany desk, a double bed and a huge bathroom. Reilly had vague memories of the rooms from some job he had done. The thought made him pause, why could he not remember, he was a chef, or was it a porter, or housekeeper? He moved towards the bed and lay down, suddenly realising how tired he was. His mind was spinning, thoughts of past lives flooding his memory. He hoped he’d be safe here.

  What happened? What is it I’m remembering?

  It felt like there was a million different people in his head, all claiming to be the real Reilly, yet all were him simultaneously. The room got hazy, as he tried to concentrate harder.

  The retina scanner, the start and end of every day. Like it implanted the days roles into his mind.

  The more he thought about it, the more crazy it seemed.

  And the chambers in the warehouse, all those people. Are they all like me? Blank slates with daily tasks written.

  He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water over his face, then looked at himself in the mirror. He recognised the face in front of him but he also felt like he was seeing himself for the first time. Free of the roles assigned to him and free of routine which forced him to lose his mind every day.

  A knock came on the door which broke his thoughts.

  “Open the door Reilly, we know you’re in there,” a stern voice called out.

  Damnit Janice.

  She must have told security that he’d asked about the suite. He looked around the room, there was nowhere he could hide. The knocks became louder, then the sound of the door being unlocked, probably a master key.

  Reilly took the only option he had and ran towards the window. The suite was on the second floor so it wasn’t a far drop to the ground, but it still made him hesitate.

  The door behind him opened, two armed security stormed it.

  “There he his, take him down,” they raised their weapons.

  Reilly opened the window, deciding not to look at the drop itself, and took a breath.

  He jumped, just as bullets shattered the glass panels in the surrounding windows.

  Falling, he could remember the feeling of air rushing past his face, then nothing.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jacob

  Jacob sat in the confession booth of the church, it was a traditional style with a wooden grill separating the sinner from his view, to allow them discretion.

  “How can I help you my child,” he spoke as a new sinner entered the box.

  “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” the female voice began, “in my youth I was foolish,’’ she paused.

  “We are all fools in our youth child, it is how we learn to grow.”

  “I wanted to be a runner, faster than all the girls in the school, but I injured my leg during training. Instead of rehabilitation, I agreed to have a new enhanced augmentation leg implanted.”

  “I see, did the leg give you what you hoped?” Father Jacob asked.

  “Oh no Father,” she spoke, he could hear the tears forming. “After the operation, I went back to training but was told that because of the augmentation, I could not continue in my competitions as it was an unfair advantage. Not long after that, I noticed the veins of T-Pox spreading, I knew that it was too late to have the augmentation removed then.”

  Jacob knew of T-Pox, it was a virus whereby the body over compensated for the implant and therefore it wouldn’t allow the augmentation to be removed without the body retaliating to the removal. There was a lot of research into the area but nothing had conclusively understood the reasons for the bodies attachment to the augmentations. Jacob, however, had developed the cure, though not without side effects.

  “I understand child, we can all fall victim to the sin of pride and greed, and we are often shown the folly of our ways afterward. Though do not fear child, I can help you. Together we can cleanse this burden for you and bring you back from the brink. Come back in a days time and we will heal you. You have my word, child,” Jacob replied, hearing the weeping from the cubicle next to him he, waited a moment.

  “Thank you Father, you are truly a saviour in our community, thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome child, remember to be here tomorrow at noon and all will be well. As you know, all I ask in return is for your donation to seal your commitment to the church,” Jacob replied, taking a moment for the girl to get her senses back.

  “Of course Father,” she spoke through the tears. At the bottom of the wooden separation grid, a small bottle was on Jacob's side. Attached to it on the other side, a small needle pointed upwards towards the confessor. The girl, hesitating for a moment, pressed her forefinger to the needle which immediately pushed forwards and punctured her skin. A second later and a small flow of blood ran down the needle and into the bottle. It filled quickly.

  “Thank you, child. God bless you, and I will see you tomorrow.”

  At that, he left the confession booth, taking the bottle with him, and allowed the girl to have the time she needed to recover.

  He headed straight for his office under the church and bolted the door behind him. He walked over to the computer and pressed a hidden button. A small door opened on the far wall, revealing a surgical theatre hidden behind his desk. An operating table lay in the centre, with several work benches surrounding it. He entered and walked up to a computerised microscope which had several other devices attached to it.

  He poured a droplet from the bottle onto a slide and put it under the microscope.

  Perfect, a simple transplant.

  He typed a string of information into the computer, before picking up his phone.

  Dialing the numbers, he waited for an answer.

  “Mr Tombs, I’m sending you a new request. Please process this immediately, I will need it for tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Yes sir, I can see it coming through now,” Tombs replied, Jacob could hear the tapping of computer keys.

  “Thank you, I’ll come by to pick it up later. It’s been a while since I visited the facility, I hope everything is running well?”

  “Erm, yes, sir. Only one minor issue we are dealing with,” Tombs said, a touch of fear in his voice.

  “A minor issue?” Impatience clear in his reply.

  “Well, it seems that, well, one escaped.”

  “What do you mean one escaped?” Jacob shouted down the phone.

  “We aren't sure what happened, a problem with the programming, we believe,” the voice replied.

  “We'll find it, we can’t have one of them wandering the streets! Do you realise the implications? Kill it on sight if you have to.”

  “We believe it’s already dead sir, and we are just retrieving the body as we speak,” Tombs said, hoping it would calm Jacob down.

  “Report back when you have, and I will see you later,” Jacob ended the call abruptly. Complications were not what he needed right now.

  He returned to the benches and pulled open a drawer which contained the eyeball he had taken from the boy. There were several wires connected up to the input and output sockets which ran into a computer. Jacob sat down and read the data that was being displayed.

  Owens and Yuri have been busy.

  Jacob couldn’t help but appreciate the design of the implant, it was almost perfect. The admiration didn’t last long, as Jacob hacked into the eye’s programming and the intricate coding it held.

  After a while, he found the code he was looking for, the coding which read the bodies Bio-reading and translated them to digital information for the eyes implementation. He had written half the coding himself, from his days back with the company, but it was Owens’ side of the code he needed now. The code which he could use to finish his project, to help spread his cure throughout the city and finally reduce the worlds crutch on technology. Bring balance back into the world. It was so close he could feel it.

  He set the coding from the eye into a diagnostic program, in an attempt to synthesize it to his needs and left it to run.

  All he c
ould do now was wait.

  CHAPTER 14

  Julian

  Julian approached the bundle of clothes on the floor, a light directly over them illuminated his view.

  “Hey Quartzig,” he whispered, “can you call the MPD, send them my location.”

  “On it,” he replied. “All ok?”

  “I’m not sure yet, set my VisPro to record, I’m not sure what I’m getting into here.”

  “Understood.”

  He put his hand down and pulled back the clothes which turned out to be an old trench coat, revealing the body underneath. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but as he looked closer, he could tell that the left arm of the body wasn’t right. The shirt sleeve was missing with the arm exposed, just above the elbow joint the skin colour was different, about three shades darker.

  Julian pulled the body over, rolling it slowly. He told himself, it was so that he could check the person was dead and not injured, but it was also out of his own curiosity.

  “Be careful Julian,” shouted Ally, who was still with the crying woman. She was staying away from the body, but could just see light emitting from Julian's PDA.

  He shone the light over the face of the body; it was a middle-aged man. The vacant stare in his eyes was all he needed to confirm that the man was dead.

  “Quartz, can you do a facial scan and see if you can get a match?”

  “Sure, hold still. MPD are about 5 minutes away FYI.”

  “Thanks. You see his arm?”

  “Yeah, it looks like surgical stitches all around, like his arm has been replaced. Could be some cheap transplant, not able to find a matching donor?”

  “Could be.”

  Julian looked closer at the body. His augmented eyes zooming in for more intricate detail.

  “I can see traces of Aug-Imp around the stitches. I think they used to have an augmented arm Quartz,” Julian crouched to get a closer look.

  He touched the arm slightly, feeling the stitching. It was soft and looked quite fresh.

  Without warning, the hand shot forward and grabbed him by the throat, immediately closing his windpipe and suppressing any sounds he tried to make. The hand held fast, as Julian struggled to get out of the grip. The body itself didn’t move, the only animation was from the arm itself and nothing more. Julian twisted and turned as he felt the lack of oxygen burning his lungs.