Nanite Storm: Travails in Nanotechnology Read online

  I imagined my face bore a similar expression. Even in my previous life I hardly ever went to hospitals. And those visits didn't involve emergency situations like the current one.

  I chose a table out on the deck area. For a hospital, it was a very nice set-up. A small shop attached to the restaurant area and heaps of balloons proclaiming the gender of a new arrival or wishes to get well soon that vied with tiny bears and other knick-knacks.

  After a small amount of time, far less than an actual restaurant, a waitress appeared at my elbow with a little menu in hand. It was ridiculous, why did they bother?

  "Would you like something to drink?" She asked and handed me the small card.

  I glanced quickly at it, coffees mostly and I looked up at her.

  "A cappuccino please."

  She nodded and walked away while I looked back at the menu she left with me. Coffees and toasted things, pastries and sundry. The little thing trembled in my hands, and I dropped onto the table.

  I felt lost and at sea without a life vest. Not entirely accurate of course; there was one person I could call on. Only he wasn't a person, and I still didn't know or understand how to deal with him.

  My hand reached for my mobile tucked into my back pocket. I made a fist and clenched it tightly until my nails had dug deeply into my palms. Relaxing my hands, I lay them flat on the table in front of me.

  I needed more time to gather my thoughts, to put my blocks in place before I could deal with Asher. Horse shit, of course, I had no blocks when it came to him.

  He could see straight through me and into my soul it felt like. And he was an alien, 'the' bloody alien to be brutally honest. Over the last couple of weeks, I learned he wasn't the only alien I knew. And that we were on friendly terms with a few.

  Fuck, I just thought of Asher and myself as 'we' again. It kept coming back to that little inclusion, and it drove me up the wall. And before you ask, it wasn't because he's an alien that I resisted.

  Initially, I thought that was the case too. Being alien certainly made it possible for him to read my mind. Apparently my thoughts were so damn obvious and loud according to him. Not even the fact that he was hot beyond measure due to his deception filter. A highly efficient filter I might add.

  But he worked for the Man, and for at least as long as I had been. But likely for far longer. After two weeks of spending the better part of each day in his company, I was resistant because I still didn't know what he did for the Man.

  FOUR

  The waitress saved me from my worries for a moment longer by putting the steaming cup of coffee in front of me. I smiled at her in thanks, she nodded and moved off to another table.

  As I stared into the depths of my cappuccino I made the decision to stop being a dumbass and just call him. It irked me that my stomach did a small flip-flop as I took out my phone and hit speed dial.

  What does it know, after all, stupid body, it had to be a cocktail of chemicals that made me feel this way and I sure as hell could be better than them.

  "What's up Eliza?"

  As usual, other traitorous parts of me responded to his deep baritone. Even through the horrible little speaker of my phone, I could hear timbre, reverb and it sent an involuntary thrill through me.

  I cleared my throat in an attempt to gain control, but I knew he knew, and it pissed me off. Which is why our phone conversations always started with an annoying pause on my side. Something the tricky bastard thankfully never brought up.

  "Denny's been shot. I'm at the hospital."

  "Which hospital?"

  "Bonnington," I said.

  "I'll be there in ten minutes," He said and hung up.

  Relief flooded me, which pissed me off even more. I didn't need a damn man to save me or help the situation. But it would be nice to have company.

  While I waited, I drank my coffee and did some people watching. A prickle in the back of my neck made me look around.

  A man in the corner behind me was staring at me, and I couldn't place him, but my inner primate panicked. She isn't the most eloquent at the best of times so I couldn't make sense of it.

  Tucked away in the corner, he had a cup similar to my own in front of him. I hated turning away from him, what with my inner primate acting out so fiercely but I couldn't find a good reason to keep staring at him.

  My guard was up though and between my fist clenched for battle and concern for Denny, I hardly noticed Asher's arrival.

  And for the uninitiated it was quite a spectacular thing to behold. I don't know if it is part of his alien mojo or just the deception filter, but the man drew attention when he entered a room.

  The ladies in the room suddenly sat up straighter and even some of the men subconsciously adjusted hair and wayward bits of their clothing.

  He was tall, but not imposingly so. Not sure if it was a programming capability of the filter but he appeared dressed in a way that highlighted his best qualities. And those were ample, and I knew this bit was the filter since no man alive had as many as he boasted

  I still had no idea what he looked like under the filter, and so far he flat-out refused to let me see. He claimed that when it finally happened it would be such a minor event that it would hardly register.

  Of course, a deep and treacherous part of me kept wondering what was underneath all that clothing the filter applied. And whether or not he was wearing actual clothes or walking around in the nude.

  His skin tone of such a nature that I couldn't tell if he was naturally bronzed or chose a tanning filter. Chocolate brown hair, slightly ruffled and just touching his collar framed a face that appeared innocently mischievous.

  A combination that shouldn't have been possible but there you go, logic had no part in this. At any rate, it was the kind of face you would follow off a cliff, and when you reached the bottom, you would be glad you did it.

  I've experienced his particular brand of sexy enough that my body went into auto-response mode, and just this once my mind didn't care.

  He sat down opposite me and gave me a warm smile. And as always my body responded, I could hate myself later. For now, I had an ally sitting across from me.

  "Sorry, I took so long Eliza. Any news?"

  The fingertips of his left hand brushed lightly across my clenched fist, and despite the danger my primal self claimed we were in I relaxed. My fist unclenched painfully, and I opened my hand to rest it palm down on the table.

  I shook my head and looked down into my cup, "No, nothing so far. But I'm not a relative so they won't tell me what's going on."

  "One way or another we'll find out how he is."

  I nodded, I appreciated the comfort. My neck abruptly relaxed, and my inner primate calmed down. It was disconcerting, and I turned around to check out the corner. It was empty, and Mister Stare had moved on.

  I scanned the cafeteria but didn't catch sight of him anywhere, either in the restaurant or the shop. He had disappeared so suddenly that if felt unnatural. Of course, I was unnatural so nothing new there.

  "I didn't see where he went either. Is that why you're so keyed up?"

  Ah, my ever trusty mind-reader. It still annoyed me, but I was getting used to his trick.

  "Yeah, he kept staring at me, and it freaked me out a bit."

  He grunted, he knew better of course but chose to remain silent on the topic. I sighed and returned to my coffee. It turned it out to be much better than expected. A cup landed in front of Asher, and the waitress lingered long enough to make sure she got a good look at Asher.

  "Thank you."

  He gave her a slow smile and kept her gaze for longer than seemed appropriate. I knew she imagined very naughty things.

  I snorted, the waitress didn't notice me at all. She giggled and walked away slowly, turning around once to take a last look at him. Asher, of course, didn't even notice. He was busy adding sugar and cream to his cup.

  I frowned and pointed it, "When did you even order that?"

  "I didn't, but the lady was ki
nd enough to assume I needed coffee."

  "Seriously man, can you implant thoughts too?"

  "Nope, people just like me."

  He smiled as he licked off the spoon, rather seductively I might add. I snorted again, indelicately. He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.

  A harried-looking young man in scrubs approached our table. He stopped in front of us and wrung his hands. My heart sank into my stomach; this didn't bode well.

  FIVE

  "Excuse me, are you the lady who came in with the shooting victim from West Street?"

  I didn't trust my voice, so I only nodded in response. He looked relieved, and perhaps he had approached a few people before he found us. He opened his mouth and as quickly closed it. Fuck, my heart rose from the pit of my stomach and started hammering in my chest.

  "Is our friend all right?" Asher asked.

  The young man turned to him and nodded quickly but then shook his head.

  "I'm sorry, it's just," he broke off and shook his head fiercely and wrung his hands. He took a deep breath and let his arms fall to his sides.

  "The Chief has asked me to fetch you. He said that you knew the patient and could help us understand some things."

  It tumbled out of him so fast that I almost didn't catch it. I realised that it meant something more than a gunshot wound was at stake. Asher and I locked eyes and stood up at the same time.

  "Take us to him," I said and moved to follow him.

  Asher, at least, had the presence of mind to toss some bills on the table for our coffees. I'm sure it would be more than our bill came to, but the waitress would certainly remember him kindly.

  We followed behind the young man I assumed to be an intern. I thought he appeared too young to be a fully-fledged doctor. But one never knew.

  He took the shortest route to our destination, and there were so many twists and turns that I would have been hard-pressed to find my way back to the cafeteria.

  We didn't go the emergency room as I had anticipated. Instead, we ended up in a quieter, older section of the hospital. He stopped at a locked ward door where he swiped a card through a slot on the wall. The doors swooshed open and any other day I would have enjoyed being part of the future.

  But today, on the other end of those doors lay my adopted grandson, being treated for something worse than a gunshot wound. He didn't slow down, and we kept up with his brisk pace.

  At the nurses station a couple of nurses were deep in conversation, but when they saw us, they moved apart quickly and shut up. I shared a frown with Asher, what could be so bad that it already made the gossip rounds?

  I paid for my lack of attention and walked into the intern. He didn't fall but locked his legs and before I could bounce off indignantly Asher's hand applied steadying pressure on my lower back.

  "I'm so sorry; I should have said something when we got close to the room."

  His cheeks glowed. I grunted and followed him into the hospital room.

  The scene inside belied his actions and the concern we got from him earlier. It appeared to be a regular hospital room. With a single bed in the center and the usual equipment arranged neatly around it like an artfully laid table and centerpiece.

  Denny lay ensconced in the bed, tubes in his arm and an oxygen mask in place over his face. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

  I glanced at the intern quizzically. Not what I had expected given his demeanour when he found us. He shook his head and pointed to the other side of the room.

  Where an older gentleman in a white doctors' coat stood up from a visitor's chair. He was poring over a ream of paper and had a folder in one hand. He nodded at the young man, who beat a hasty exit. He sighed heavily and walked towards us.

  "Good evening, I am Doctor Burger, Chief Physician."

  I reflexively reached out and shook his outstretched hand. He, in turn, shook Asher's hand, and when he turned to me, I felt that he measured me. Probably trying to figure out how I knew Denny and if there was a possibility of blood relation.

  "How is he?" I squeaked.

  He nodded as if some question was satisfied now that I had spoken and had sounded like a dolt. We stood in a silence that grew in momentum and right about the time I would be the one to break it with my usual panache the doctor spoke.

  "The emergency room doctors managed to stop the bleeding and remove the projectile. Your friend responded well to treatment, and they began suturing."

  I nodded, it was a relief that he didn't have a bullet rattling around inside of him still. The doctor continued and my blood chilled.

  "It wasn't a standard bullet, but as with all such incidences, they kept it aside in case of a police investigation."

  My frown must have spoken volumes as he quickly retreated to the small space he had been occupying. The doctor retrieved a small plastic bottle and brought it over to show us. I nodded, I wanted a closer look at that.

  "If the procedure went so well, why was our escort so worked up when he found us?" Asher asked.

  "Unfortunately, matters took a turn for the peculiar," Burger said carefully.

  "What do you mean, peculiar?" I demanded.

  "Eliza, calm down," Asher told me gently as he turned to the Doctor.

  "Please tell us what happened Doctor."

  Doctor Burger retreated to the visitor section of the room but didn't sit down. Perhaps in an attempt to put some space between us. I might be tiny, but I could shake the truth out of him if he took too long to get to the point.

  "I wasn't present, you understand. I only have the reports of the attendees to go on." He paused.

  Asher nodded, and I waved a hand to indicate he should get on with it. He frowned at me and smiled at the doctor, attempting to use charm to replace my uncivil behaviour.

  "What did they tell you?" I asked, "Please, tell us." I amended after a stern glance from Asher.

  "They told me something impossible. That your friend's wound closed up by itself."

  He looked at us defiantly, and I imagine for the average person that would seem impossible. It seemed strange to me. I wasn't aware of anything based in reality as I knew it that would do that. Asher shook his head, but he didn't appear nearly as dubious as I did.

  "How did the wound close up Doctor?" Asher asked.

  "The attending physician claimed that it happened when he finished suturing. As soon as he snipped the thread it popped out."

  "What do you mean popped out?" I asked.

  "The stitches came out without human intervention. He said that one moment he cut the thread and the next it lay undone on the patient's torso."

  I shook my head; it didn't seem much clearer but Asher nodded as if he understood it all. Did he read the doctor's mind? He looked at me and shook his head. Apparently he chose to only read my mind.

  "There isn't even a scar left, and it is as if his wound has healed completely."

  He moved over to Denny and quickly pulled the covers back. Denny wore his boxer shorts and not the usual hospital garb. When I got close enough, I could see that he didn't look nearly as peaceful as I had initially thought.

  His skin appeared to be clammy and a pallor clung to him that I had attributed to the gunshot wound. The doctor pointed at his torso. Where we couldn't see any evidence of an injury. His skin bore no scars of any kind.

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  About the Author

  A spark was kindled in C.F. the first time she read Terrance Dicks' Spacejack and a love for Sci-Fi was born. Never quite satisfied with the endings of her favourite books she wrote her own.

  Eventually, C.F. started making up new worlds and characters. Not to say that the occasional television show or movie doesn't get a better ending than it initially received
. But creating universes are more fun.

  Living in sunny South Africa C.F. enjoys reading as much as she writes and dreams of the next great adventure.

  Read more at C.F. Villion’s site.

 

 

  C.F. Villion, Nanite Storm: Travails in Nanotechnology

 

 

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