04-10-2019, 05:25 PM
I don’t understand. But—
He reached for her arm and she looked at Soren in surprise for a second, anticipating something, but only sure of the fact she should anticipate. She wondered if he’d pull back if she had roared back a bark of incredulous laughter, but dared not try. This was a true test, and she was loath to break its spell. Instinctively, she let him take the lead. Nina simply looked at him, and allowed Soren to study both her arms.
The man seemed to be in better spirits, but his face was as white as a death mask, and his bright eyes sunken in dark circles like bruises.
He was lucid, but twice he was given to fits of pain and convulsion, accompanied by Nina’s arms pulled around his huddled body, as if for warmth. She began to fear that there was more at work than simple technological incompatibility. Some insensible influence seemed to have Soren in its grip and would not let him go.
Not dying, though. There was something eternally vital about Soren, a wellspring of vigor that had seen him through wounds in the past, including the loss of his original eye. Now scar tissue covered the rupture nerves of his ruined eyes, and the preliminary reconstructive surgery preserved the original integrity of his healing eye socket, and installed the neural plugs for Soren’s augmented implant, providing him with enhanced vision and depth perception. He must’ve looked for all the world like a cyclops of old myth before the surgeon worked on him.
Nina wondered why Soren was so concerned with her tattoos, presuming the young man—with an agitated look on his slender face—intended to build the most complete picture possible in his mind of her now that she’d drawn his assent. Nina didn’t understand. She could not say where his interest had come from, for it had not been there a moment before. Furthermore it was curious that he considered her an ally, but didn’t expect her to lead.
He lifted his head to look at Nina, so that the light fell in under his hair and caught the line of his chin and cheek. He sighed, as if the explanations were a struggle. As if he didn’t have the time to explain.
His words came slower and more halting, as if pain was wracking his insides.
Clearly the pain to his head and eyes delivered by the faulty technology urgently needed attention. Nina thought about that, and didn’t like the sound of it very much. By mark of age and experience, she had seniority here. She couldn’t convince him otherwise. But that’s not reason not to help anyway, is it? She needed him to tell her things. Needled by the urgings of her curiosity, Nina hoped that on her return to the hospital, perhaps if the stars aligned and the right patterns of things happened, Soren would recount the story of how he lost that eye to her…
“Yes, and yes. Fit for a walk, Soren?” Nina chuckled, almost amused at the notion of anyone, even a doctor, forcing Soren to do anything. There was no arguing with a, a thing like that.
“Come with me, then,” she said. “There’s a Guardian hospital just a few minutes behind me.” She looked up at the wide, now darkening skies behind her, surrounded by big rain clouds. She could feel the wind on her skin, though she was already clad in her raincoat again. “There’s a storm coming in. It’s been forecasted for days. We best not be here when it comes. Are you sure you don’t want to drink any water? A smoke?”
She realized with some mystification that she was enjoying her time with Soren. She felt a puff of pride he knew her. Knew her name, her station and her worth. It was as strange to her as a dream, for whims visited her pragmatic mind so seldom. Stranger in fact, for from the start of this encounter, she knew she had to be near him, needed to help him for her own ends.
Nina didn’t turn around. She dared not look around. He was close behind, and Nina took another anxious look ahead at the encroaching storm. The horizon had lost definition as muggy fog filled the air; as above their heads, the bright sun was fading from view.
She was shaking her head.
“Morven treated you…” she said, beginning to shape the truth in her mind. She was half enjoying the strange thoughts in her mind, engaged by the rarity and reality of it, and especially by Soren’s reluctant participation. She felt weightless, as if she could take off and, with one bound, touch the sky.
Nina nodded. Then she frowned. “I still don’t understand this. What would Morven’s last patient files give us? What does that mean?”
Before she could ask more, they were interrupted. There was a peal of distant thunder.
“I need more information. Are you one of our patients at the Guardian? Or did you meet Morven in a place particular to the two of you?” she cried, having to raise her voice now against the moaning of the wind.
He reached for her arm and she looked at Soren in surprise for a second, anticipating something, but only sure of the fact she should anticipate. She wondered if he’d pull back if she had roared back a bark of incredulous laughter, but dared not try. This was a true test, and she was loath to break its spell. Instinctively, she let him take the lead. Nina simply looked at him, and allowed Soren to study both her arms.
The man seemed to be in better spirits, but his face was as white as a death mask, and his bright eyes sunken in dark circles like bruises.
He was lucid, but twice he was given to fits of pain and convulsion, accompanied by Nina’s arms pulled around his huddled body, as if for warmth. She began to fear that there was more at work than simple technological incompatibility. Some insensible influence seemed to have Soren in its grip and would not let him go.
Not dying, though. There was something eternally vital about Soren, a wellspring of vigor that had seen him through wounds in the past, including the loss of his original eye. Now scar tissue covered the rupture nerves of his ruined eyes, and the preliminary reconstructive surgery preserved the original integrity of his healing eye socket, and installed the neural plugs for Soren’s augmented implant, providing him with enhanced vision and depth perception. He must’ve looked for all the world like a cyclops of old myth before the surgeon worked on him.
Nina wondered why Soren was so concerned with her tattoos, presuming the young man—with an agitated look on his slender face—intended to build the most complete picture possible in his mind of her now that she’d drawn his assent. Nina didn’t understand. She could not say where his interest had come from, for it had not been there a moment before. Furthermore it was curious that he considered her an ally, but didn’t expect her to lead.
He lifted his head to look at Nina, so that the light fell in under his hair and caught the line of his chin and cheek. He sighed, as if the explanations were a struggle. As if he didn’t have the time to explain.
His words came slower and more halting, as if pain was wracking his insides.
Clearly the pain to his head and eyes delivered by the faulty technology urgently needed attention. Nina thought about that, and didn’t like the sound of it very much. By mark of age and experience, she had seniority here. She couldn’t convince him otherwise. But that’s not reason not to help anyway, is it? She needed him to tell her things. Needled by the urgings of her curiosity, Nina hoped that on her return to the hospital, perhaps if the stars aligned and the right patterns of things happened, Soren would recount the story of how he lost that eye to her…
“Yes, and yes. Fit for a walk, Soren?” Nina chuckled, almost amused at the notion of anyone, even a doctor, forcing Soren to do anything. There was no arguing with a, a thing like that.
“Come with me, then,” she said. “There’s a Guardian hospital just a few minutes behind me.” She looked up at the wide, now darkening skies behind her, surrounded by big rain clouds. She could feel the wind on her skin, though she was already clad in her raincoat again. “There’s a storm coming in. It’s been forecasted for days. We best not be here when it comes. Are you sure you don’t want to drink any water? A smoke?”
She realized with some mystification that she was enjoying her time with Soren. She felt a puff of pride he knew her. Knew her name, her station and her worth. It was as strange to her as a dream, for whims visited her pragmatic mind so seldom. Stranger in fact, for from the start of this encounter, she knew she had to be near him, needed to help him for her own ends.
Nina didn’t turn around. She dared not look around. He was close behind, and Nina took another anxious look ahead at the encroaching storm. The horizon had lost definition as muggy fog filled the air; as above their heads, the bright sun was fading from view.
She was shaking her head.
“Morven treated you…” she said, beginning to shape the truth in her mind. She was half enjoying the strange thoughts in her mind, engaged by the rarity and reality of it, and especially by Soren’s reluctant participation. She felt weightless, as if she could take off and, with one bound, touch the sky.
Nina nodded. Then she frowned. “I still don’t understand this. What would Morven’s last patient files give us? What does that mean?”
Before she could ask more, they were interrupted. There was a peal of distant thunder.
“I need more information. Are you one of our patients at the Guardian? Or did you meet Morven in a place particular to the two of you?” she cried, having to raise her voice now against the moaning of the wind.
Nina