or communicate on many frequencies. You can send messages or texts while keeping your hands free to do other activities. I’ll stop here for now. This is a lot of information, and I’ll work with you for as long as it takes to explain it all.”
At that point, Dr. Phillippe cut back in, “Thank you, Mike. I’ll explain the last part.” He stayed standing beside the bed. “Our last improvement repairs the serious brain damage that you suffered. Similar to the mechanized organ replacements that Dr. Davis referred to, we placed a NeoPsion Mind Force Implant in your head. It almost is a replacement for your skull and comprises three synaptic sensor strips each about an inch wide that join at your frontal lobe and reconnect at the base of your skull.
“This implant is quite a remarkable invention because it makes you telepathic. With proper training, that we will help you with, you should be able to move objects by only thinking about it. We don’t know the full extent of the implant’s capabilities, but you should be able to communicate with others with only your mind. No speech will be necessary.”
To wrap up, Dr. Philippe added, “In conclusion, miss, please understand that the laws of space are quite explicit regarding the donation of body parts for science research. As you were pronounced dead, we went ahead with our plans for you. Most people tend to only own one SCARAB, but even if you had a copy back on your home planet, no one would ever be able to retrieve it in time to save you. So, regardless of your identity, we went ahead with our work.”
Now he was giving me legal jargon and brushing off things he didn’t want to talk about. I stopped him. “Wait a minute. What do you mean, ‘regardless of my identity’?”
Dr. Ponytail was unstoppable. “While some damage to your SCARAB prevented the doctors from reviving all your body parts, some damage also erased parts of the identity sector. We replaced body parts that were no longer serviceable, but we can’t fill in the gaps in your memory. You will have to do that yourself.”
I looked at Jane. “But did you try to look for me, for my identity? Did you try to figure out if I signed an organ use permission somewhere, or if I had a ‘do not revive’ request somewhere? Did you look for copies of the ship’s records, for a girl passenger?” She looked away. I pulled my hand away from hers.
The motor mouth wouldn’t stop. “Please understand the question is moot. Once revived, as you are now, you can fill in the blanks yourself, fill in your own unknowns, as it were. We can do that right now in one simple question: Who are you?”
It suddenly hit me that there was a lot of very high-priced technical brainpower around me in this room. I couldn’t imagine that your average grunt who got fished off a life raft would get this kind of treatment. Something was up! I was what’s up! I was the center of attention.
Stand your ground, girl! Think! Think it through! Where did that come from? It popped into my head out of nowhere. Did my father used to say that?
I looked around at all the faces in the room. Everyone was looking back, waiting. I answered slowly, “My name…” That’s my problem! I don’t know who I am. I know nothing about me. I only know waking up in this bed.
Then it hit me. “What do you care what my name is? The truth is none of you here cares who I am. You only care about making Frankenstein live. None of you care who Frankenstein was before!” The look on my face glared “fuck you all.” I looked at Jane. I could tell that she recognized my expression.
But Dr. Ponytail wouldn’t stop shooting his mouth off. “Well, the issue is of no real consequence. We have done our work. I have revived you. We only need to monitor your healing progress now and assist with your recovery. With luck, everything will work out as I expect, and you will come to see the wisdom in our plan. So, ladies and gentlemen, may we continue—”
I cut him off, “I have a question, Doctor. Your nurse here…” I pointed to Chris. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.” I did forget it but continued looking at Dr. Philippe. “Last night, he told me there were no other survivors from the ship I was on. Is that true?”
“Yes, that’s true, miss.” Dr. Philippe continued, “You are the only one. That’s why we worked so hard to revive you.”
“Then I don’t follow something, Doctor. If that physician on board the rescue ship was so relentless, why didn’t he save anyone else? Or at least send others to you as well as me? Why was I the only one that survived?”
The good doctor’s answer was almost flawless. “My dear girl, I mean woman, to get to the point we are at today, you have had twenty-four-hour supervision by trained medical personnel for four months. That doesn’t speak to the expense of top surgical, biotechnical, and psychiatric experts this entire time. It would not be possible to spend that amount of resources on the entire crew of every attacked vessel coming into this galaxy. Your survival was an experiment. We simply could not conduct a countless number of experiments simultaneously.”
“But why me?” I asked as the room went silent.
“Miss, I suggest that you take that question up with whoever or whatever you hold to be your almighty creator.”
The room fell silent, and everyone was looking at me. I was getting livid and did not want to disappoint them. I was staring down at my bandaged arm, but my voice was firm. “Is that all you got? Do you expect me to believe that you are just a bunch of wonderful guys saving lives with cool toys? You won’t tell me the truth, will you? You won’t tell me what your real purpose is!”
Jane’s head jerked toward me. She understood me and looked straight at me. She gave me a subtle nod, and she reached and touched my hand. There was that connection again between us, and a voice in my head was saying to me, You go, girl.
I continued, “You turned me into an alien…with air-conditioning. I got so much gear in me I’m half robot and half alien. No, I’m a fucking telepathic robot.”
That even shut up the great doctor. All he could get out was “Dr. Dietrich?”
Jane stood and faced him. “Dr. Philippe, I had suggested many times that today’s conversation should best be handled in a private one-on-one session between our patient and myself. There is no need for a performance in this manner with all staff attending and others observing.” I could tell Jane struck a nerve.
Dr. Philippe began to fume and was ready to reply, but I cut them both off. “Excuse me!” I was getting even angrier. “I dislike being talked about like I’m not even in the room!” I was thinking about Jane’s comment about others observing, but I directed at the good doctor, “This is all very silly and misses a few points that I think are important.” Everyone in the room was now looking at me. “One, why did you do this to me? And please don’t say to save my life. I’m your fucking guinea pig. What’s the real reason for this experiment? And why me?”
My head was starting to hurt. “What do I owe you for all these built-in toys? These are close to being medical miracles. What do you want from me? What, will I have to do as payback?” I didn’t want to say it, but that thought frightened me a lot.
I couldn’t stop now. “And third, where the fuck did you get this gear? Please don’t tell me you invented it. Bullshit! These are military parts, right?” Then I looked straight at Dr. Philippe. “Do you think I’m supposed to bow and say thank you and kiss your feet? Guess again, asshole. You never even stopped to ask my permission. You transformed me into…into…I don’t know what. To you, I am your fucking guinea pig! And you won’t be honest about why you picked me!”
Dr.
