“Wake up.”
The voice doesn’t belong to anyone Wil remembers being in the room when he went under for the procedure. Of course, there were a bunch of people there, none that Wil knew, and very few whom he could identify the species of.
“Wake up.” A pause. “What did you say this one was? Hoban? Vulcan?”
Another voice: “Human. Xarrix says he’s the only one. Do you think Xarrix destroyed his planet?”
“Anything is possible, but no I think Xarrix said this one somehow got off planet and found his way to GC space. If we killed him, Xarrix is going to be pissed.”
Wil finally has the strength to speak—or rather, croak: “Not. Dead.” He opens one eye and sees something with huge, pupil-less blue eyes and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth looking down at him. “Sweet boneless Christ.” He shudders, clamping his eyes closed, then opens one slowly.
Blue-eyes looks away and addresses a companion that Wil can’t see from where he is, laying on the table. “Get him ready for training.”
Fifteen minutes later, Wil is in a plain white jumpsuit in a room with various pieces of equipment and weapons, and what looks like a dentist’s chair. Blue-eyes and their assistant—a tall, hairless being with no visible eyes and two sets of arms and legs—are facing him.
“Mr. Calder, Xarrix asked for you to receive weapons, tactics and technology training. Please take a seat. I am Holshoom; this is Brawndo, we will be administering your upgrades.”
Wil looks around the room. The chair is the least terrifying thing in there. “I thought you already did the whole upgrade thing?” he asks, hopping into the chair, rubbing the shaved patch on the back of his head.
“We installed the neural interface hardware. It allows knowledge and skills to be directly installed into your brain in the correct locations.” Holshoom bows. “I must admit, learning about your brain without killing you was quite a challenge.”
Wil sits up in the chair. “Uh, thanks?”
“Please lie back. We’ll begin with technology; it’s the easiest upgrade to install.”
Wil starts to lean back in the chair, then bolts upright. “Can I also learn Kung-Fu?” he asks.
The two aliens look at each other, then back at Wil. Brawndo asks, “What’s Kung-Fu?”
Wil sighs. “Where’s Morpheus when you need him?” He leans back in the chair, and says, “Let’s do this.” He closes his eyes, then they snap open. “Wait, will it hurt?”
Without answering, Holshoom activates something on the data slate it’s holding. What feels like a thousand ants start crawling around under Wil’s skin, biting him. His brain feels like it’s being set on fire, then extinguished, then set on fire all over again. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it ends.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Holshoom asks, smiling.
“That was terrible!” Wil says through gritted teeth. “It hurt like hell; it feels like my brain is about to explode! My skin feels like it’s been peeled off and stapled back on.”
Brawndo looks up at Holshoom. “That’s different.”
The tall scientists nods. “Indeed. It must be something unique to his biology. Make sure you’re recording telemetry. The next time we have to work on a human, the process should be less painful.”
“Can it be less painful this time?” Wil asks, sweating profusely in the chair.
Holshoom raises its data slate and touches a control. “I’m afraid not.”
Wil screams, as another thousand ants do their thing, then stop. “Oh my god! That hurts. A lot!”
Brawndo smiles. “You’re almost done, Mr. Calder.”
Wil shudders and lets out a ragged sigh. “Yay.”
One more blast of brain electricity and Holshoom walks over to Wil, one of its four hands extended to help him out of the chair. “Well done, Mr. Calder. The upgrades are complete. It will take some time for the skills and knowledge to fully acclimate within your grey matter. You don’t get the benefit of muscle memory from these types of upgrades, so you’ll know what to do but will need to practice to become proficient.” It gestures to the weapons and equipment arrayed around the chair. “You are welcome to remain here for a while to practice with all of this.” It turns and leaves the room, followed by Brawndo.
Wil picks up something he now recognizes as an interphase modulator and begins to disassemble it. “Cool,” he mumbles, as he strips the device like it was his hundredth time doing it.