recollections.
“So, there are some things I would like to tell you,” he said to me and turned to his wife, “that Jayashri and I have learned by examining you and the huge pile of x-rays, and so forth.”
“What kinds of things?” I had to ask.
“Well, first and foremost, what kinds of changes our ‘Critters’ have made to you.” Baj looked quite serious, an almost instantaneous departure from the merriment of a moment before.
“Oh.”
“Let us all take a walk. Shall we?” Jayashri led the way out of the cafeteria, into the meeting room next door. It was quieter and unoccupied.
“Why does it feel like the two of you planned this?” Charlie looked at them with a suspicious look in her eyes, and shut the door behind us without even turning around.
“Because we did,” was Baj’s answer. “Not Frank’s recovery, of course, but the discussion we wished to have with him after he regained... himself.”
We sat in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and felt appropriately uncomfortable, for a variety of reasons.
“The bullet to your forehead damaged a full third of your brain,” Jayashri began. “You should not have lived, or, had you lived, ever been more than a vegetable. The nanotechnology, we believe, made a backup of your memories and all the things that make you who you are.”
“You’re right.” They gave me astonished looks when I dropped that on them. “The critters told me as much in a dream about two weeks ago.”
“They actually communicated with you?” Bajali’s eyes got wide with excitement, and I swear that he drooled a little bit, too.
“Yes. I haven’t heard from them since, and they told me to expect that their psuedo-consciousness would merge into mine before too long.”
“Gods!” Jayashri breathed it out, incredulous. “This is beyond what we could have expected... As all of the results have been.”
The Sharmas shook their heads, amazed.
“They replaced your brain tissue with a network of hexagonal structures. They appear to contain the liquid remains of your gray matter.” Bajali continued, drawing little six-sided shapes in the air. “Your skull was also rebuilt, fortified, if you will. I do not believe that a bullet would penetrate your head, were we to shoot you right now.”
“Gosh! I am so relieved to hear that!”
“Lord,” Charlie said, “his sarcasm is back, too.”
“Be that as it may,” Jaya picked up the conversation, “there are a number of other physiological changes we took note of. Your blood, for instance, is packed full of nanomachines; several different designs.”
“It is very exciting! We feel that one of the ‘species’ of machines has taken over oxygen transport in your body. Another two or three appear to regulate hormonal function. There is even a ‘battleship’ that supports your white blood cells!” Bajali was almost giddy with excitement, a perfect counterpoint to my sense of dread.
“The only other person who exhibits such a wide array of development is Chunhua, and we are well-aware of how she was altered by the technology!” Jaya beamed.
Yeah. Chunhua had 60 years subtracted from her body. I suppose it would make sense that the nanotech could repair me if it could do a complete overhaul on an 80+ year-old woman.
“Indeed!” Baj clapped his hands. “But there is another interesting quirk to your case. We found nanomachines in your blood that do not bear any resemblance to my design at all. No one in our community has these.”
“Jesus!”
“Remember we were worried you healed quickly from the grenade explosion?” Jayashri asked, reminding me of an earlier episode of heroic behavior on my part.
“Yeah.”
“This other technology is likely responsible for the speed of your recovery from earlier injuries.” My jaw dropped.
“I have a theory,” Baj said, raising a finger. “Your father may have, at some point, used you as a guinea pig for other nanotech experiments.”
“Oh.” Joy? Hardly. My
“So, there are some things I would like to tell you,” he said to me and turned to his wife, “that Jayashri and I have learned by examining you and the huge pile of x-rays, and so forth.”
“What kinds of things?” I had to ask.
“Well, first and foremost, what kinds of changes our ‘Critters’ have made to you.” Baj looked quite serious, an almost instantaneous departure from the merriment of a moment before.
“Oh.”
“Let us all take a walk. Shall we?” Jayashri led the way out of the cafeteria, into the meeting room next door. It was quieter and unoccupied.
“Why does it feel like the two of you planned this?” Charlie looked at them with a suspicious look in her eyes, and shut the door behind us without even turning around.
“Because we did,” was Baj’s answer. “Not Frank’s recovery, of course, but the discussion we wished to have with him after he regained... himself.”
We sat in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and felt appropriately uncomfortable, for a variety of reasons.
“The bullet to your forehead damaged a full third of your brain,” Jayashri began. “You should not have lived, or, had you lived, ever been more than a vegetable. The nanotechnology, we believe, made a backup of your memories and all the things that make you who you are.”
“You’re right.” They gave me astonished looks when I dropped that on them. “The critters told me as much in a dream about two weeks ago.”
“They actually communicated with you?” Bajali’s eyes got wide with excitement, and I swear that he drooled a little bit, too.
“Yes. I haven’t heard from them since, and they told me to expect that their psuedo-consciousness would merge into mine before too long.”
“Gods!” Jayashri breathed it out, incredulous. “This is beyond what we could have expected... As all of the results have been.”
The Sharmas shook their heads, amazed.
“They replaced your brain tissue with a network of hexagonal structures. They appear to contain the liquid remains of your gray matter.” Bajali continued, drawing little six-sided shapes in the air. “Your skull was also rebuilt, fortified, if you will. I do not believe that a bullet would penetrate your head, were we to shoot you right now.”
“Gosh! I am so relieved to hear that!”
“Lord,” Charlie said, “his sarcasm is back, too.”
“Be that as it may,” Jaya picked up the conversation, “there are a number of other physiological changes we took note of. Your blood, for instance, is packed full of nanomachines; several different designs.”
“It is very exciting! We feel that one of the ‘species’ of machines has taken over oxygen transport in your body. Another two or three appear to regulate hormonal function. There is even a ‘battleship’ that supports your white blood cells!” Bajali was almost giddy with excitement, a perfect counterpoint to my sense of dread.
“The only other person who exhibits such a wide array of development is Chunhua, and we are well-aware of how she was altered by the technology!” Jaya beamed.
Yeah. Chunhua had 60 years subtracted from her body. I suppose it would make sense that the nanotech could repair me if it could do a complete overhaul on an 80+ year-old woman.
“Indeed!” Baj clapped his hands. “But there is another interesting quirk to your case. We found nanomachines in your blood that do not bear any resemblance to my design at all. No one in our community has these.”
“Jesus!”
“Remember we were worried you healed quickly from the grenade explosion?” Jayashri asked, reminding me of an earlier episode of heroic behavior on my part.
“Yeah.”
“This other technology is likely responsible for the speed of your recovery from earlier injuries.” My jaw dropped.
“I have a theory,” Baj said, raising a finger. “Your father may have, at some point, used you as a guinea pig for other nanotech experiments.”
“Oh.” Joy? Hardly. My
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