Welcome to the next chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter 2
Lilia recovered first. “Hello, Dr. Dover. We were just on our way down to see you.”
“Yes, well, I thought I’d see what was taking Bansuri so long.” Dover shook their hands in turn and stepped back to appraise them with pale blue eyes. “You’re here for simultaneous infusions, correct?”
Kevin eyed her warily. “That’s not a problem, I hope, Doctor.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Certainly not.” Her fingers were long and bony. “We perform simultaneous infusions all the time. They tend to make the process more comfortable for the Guardians involved.”
“Now…” Withdrawing a small black datapad from her pocket, Dover scanned the screen. “You’ve both already had your physicals, yes?”
“Yes.” The twins traded grimaces. They’d had those done the month before in Kyman. It had not been a particularly pleasant experience for either of them.
“And your psych evals,” Dover murmured. “Yes, I see…” She glanced up from her datapad. “You two are younger than most of the Guardian candidates I work with, but that just adds another layer to an already interesting case.”
Kevin shot Lilia a confused look. His eyes asked, What is she talking about?
Lilia shook her head a fraction.
Dover fixed them with a curious blue stare. “It is a strange turn of events when two half-Tarynian Sta’Gloan citizens become Guardians on Glo’Stea, wouldn’t you agree?”
Lilia went very still. Beside her, she felt Kevin tense. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Dr. Dover.”
The older woman snorted. “No need to play coy, Miss Strong. Your father was from Taryn. I was merely appreciating the irony of the situation.”
“We don’t hide it, Dr. Dover,” Kevin cut in, “we just don’t advertise it. In our experience, people don’t seem to understand that our father—”
“—was a Tarynian expatriate who came to Sta’Gloa because he disagreed with his homeworld’s domestic and galactic policies.” Dover flapped her fingers. “Yes, yes, it’s all in your files. As I said, I was appreciating the irony. I find it fitting.”
Her eyes swept over them again and abruptly her entire countenance brightened. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
The twins stared at her, still confused and more than a little taken aback. Dover’s broad smile was unexpected; it did not quite fit her austere persona.
“Come along.” Spinning on her heel, Dover stalked back the way she had come.
Exchanging bewildered shrugs, Lilia and Kevin followed.
As the doctor led them down a stark white hallway to the accelevator, Lilia asked, “How long have you been with the NCDC?”
“Since the beginning.” Dover smiled again. “I was part of the original group of scientists and other civilians who founded the Nanotech Civilian Defense Corps ten years ago. We had just made a major breakthrough in nanotechnology and wanted to take the next step.”
The interior of the accelevator was gleaming chrome. They stepped inside and Dover said, “Sublevel 1.” As the accelevator descended, she continued, “Our goal was to create a system-wide civilian defense line capable of protecting lives in situations where outside police or military help is impossible. To this end, ordinary—but carefully vetted, mind you—civilians volunteer to serve as Guardians.”
Pride filled her voice. “I think we have succeeded.”
The accelevator doors opened on a small beige waiting room with wide doorways at either end. A number of tawny chairs lined the front and back walls. Dover headed toward the doorway on the right, across the Guardian insignia etched into the golden brown floor. They matched her pace.
“Are any of the original Guardians still active?” Kevin asked.
“Yes, there are a few who have opted to remain with us.”
Dover guided them through several more white halls until she came to a halt in front of a door labeled Production. “This is where we create the nanites.”
She opened the door long enough for Lilia and Kevin to catch a glimpse of the strange machine inside. A shiny, meter-wide metal globe stood mounted on one sturdy leg, with a convex control panel jutting from its front and a small chute opening out of its top. A small table beside it held a tray of empty vials. Six crystalline tubes spiraled down from the globe’s left side to poise above each vial.
Dover let the door slide shut again and moved along the hall to a door labeled Lab 1. “This is where we will design your armor.”
Lilia and Kevin followed her into a long, narrow lab with comfortable lighting—a welcome relief from the over-bright halls. Five semicircular computer terminals lined the walls on each side. A curly-haired, mocha-skinned man in a white coat sat at one of them, muttering to himself, but the twins’ gaze slid past him to an odd raised platform at the end of the room.
Dover spread her hands. “The basic parameters of the armor—” A jangling melody issued from the depths of her pocket and she broke off with a frown. Digging it out, she glanced at the tiny display.
Lilia and Kevin traded minute glances.
Dover’s face smoothed into an expressionless mask. “Dr. Payton will assist you with the first stage of the process. I’ll see you again when the nanites are ready to be infused.” Before she turned back to the door and disappeared into the hallway, she gave the twins an encouraging smile. It failed to reach her eyes.
They had no time to wonder about her peculiar expression. Realizing he had company, the curly-haired doctor jumped up to greet them.
“Khaz Payton,” he said with a gleeful smile, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a little child unable to contain his enthusiasm. “I think you’re going to enjoy this.” He pointed to the raised platform. “First things first. I need your body specs. Stand up there and hold still.”
Lilia glanced at her brother before dropping her bag on a chair and heading to the other end of the room. When she climbed up onto the platform, a pillar of yellow light bathed her from head to toe. She stood motionless as a circle of darker gold light dropped over her head and swiftly descended to her feet, cataloguing her body mass and overall shape.
“All done.” Dr. Payton gave her a thumbs’ up. “Next.”
He repeated the process with Kevin and then hurried back to his console. “Pull up a chair—we’ve got a busy morning ahead of us.” He suited action to words, sweeping his long coat out of the way with an impatient flick of a hand.
The twins exchanged glances again and took chairs on either side of him.
Payton’s fingers danced over the glowing console pad before him and brought up a quarter-size version of the armor they had seen in the lab antechamber. He gestured to it with a stylus he pulled from behind one ear. “Obviously, nano-armor is comprised entirely of nanites, which will lodge in between layers of your dermis and epidermis. They’ll exit via your pores.”
Lilia knew it was coming, but hearing how the nanites left a Guardian’s body still made her skin crawl. She looked down at her hands, imagining…things…seeping out of her skin, and shuddered. I don’t care what they say, it’s still disgusting.
Kevin had turned a delicate shade of green, like he’d swallowed something cold and nasty. His jaw worked a couple of times before he found his voice. “Can’t wait to try that out.”
“Nano-armor,” Payton continued, “can be materialized at will and forms a flexible layer over the body that stiffens on impact to prevent damage from things like laser bolts, knives, and so on. It is also fireproof, waterproof, and quick-drying.”
“Because nobody likes drippy armor,” Kevin deadpanned.
On the doctor’s other side, Lilia shook her head. “Couldn’t resist, could you?”
“Nope.”
Chuckling, Payton enhanced the hologram to zoom in on the upper torso. “One of the biggest obstacles we faced in designing body armor was the potential for ricochets. Nano-armor absorbs most laser fire and blocks small projectiles, thereby preventing anything from bouncing off and potentially injuring innocent bystanders.”
He turned a hand palm up. “It’ll distribute any resulting heat from absorbing laser fire so you won’t be burned, but depending on the type of projectile and its impact velocity, you may have the bruises to show for it. Not much the armor can do about that.”
Kevin’s attention had gotten sidetracked several sentences back. He raised an eyebrow. “Most laserfire?”
“You’re not invincible,” Payton said bluntly. Brown eyes sober, he glanced from Kevin to Lilia. “I’d advise against taking a blast meant for a skimmer or a small spacecraft. Furthermore, heavy, repeated impact to the same area of your armor could potentially puncture it and cause real damage.” He tapped his stylus against the desktop. “We’re still testing how that applies to nanoblades.”
“Nanoblades?”
Lilia frowned at Kevin’s tone—sharp and interested. Where have I heard that term before?
Kevin shook his head. “From what I’ve heard, those things are capable of cutting through just about anything. Venture Inc. hasn’t been allowed to put them on the sword market yet because of safety issues.”
The pieces fell into place and Lilia’s eyes widened. The Coalition had its various ballgames and other sports, but swordplay was their entertainment sport of choice. Over the decades, a lucrative business had sprung up around it. Thousands of people competed yearly for the chance to be among the twenty-four men and women who participated in the Tri-World Tournaments. Millions more avidly followed their progress, discussing blades, equipment, and techniques with varying degrees of actual knowledge.
“How can this armor stop a nanoblade?” Kevin pointed to the hologram.
“Why does it matter?” Lilia interjected, puzzled. She glanced between her brother and Payton. “It’s not like we’re going to be bumping into people carrying them, are we?”
“Not average citizens, no, but…” Payton’s dark face split in a broad smile. “As it so happens, the NCDC has spent the last few years helping Venture Inc. test their nanoblades. You’ll both be issued one before you leave.”
Behind his back, Lilia and Kevin exchanged stunned looks of amazement. Kevin shook his head in awe. “How in the galaxy did they swing that?”
Payton’s grin grew smug. “Proved it wasn’t a safety hazard to Guardians.”
The twins looked at each other again and demanded in unison, “How?”
“It’s simple, really.” Payton lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Each blade is precision-sharpened to the exact width of a nanite.” His eyes sparkled with admiration. “We’re talking about a cutting edge on the atomic level impacting atomic material. The armor blocks the blade.”
Lilia frowned. “What if it—”
“—slips between two nanites?” Kevin finished, also frowning.
“The most damage you might receive is a topical gash.” Payton spread his hands. “Even that’s unlikely. There are too many nanites between the outside of the armor and your skin.”
“What about thrusts?” Kevin asked sharply.
The doctor hesitated. “That’s one of the areas we’re still testing, but it shouldn’t be a problem. In any event, the nano-armor will repair itself when you dematerialize.”
“It fixes itself too?” Kevin blinked. “I’m impressed.”
Lilia nodded. Although, she thought, staring at the hologram, I hope we won’t need it to fix itself any time soon.
Grinning, Payton brought up two featureless human bodies, male and female, on his screen. “Anyway, now that we have your body specs, I can create the armor specs Jemina will be coding into your builder and control nanites.”
“Builder and control nanites?” Lilia’s gaze sharpened with interest.
“Yes. Two base classes of nanites. They’ll manufacture and operate your armor nanites.” Payton waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it—your trainer will tell you all the details later.”
His computer spat out a datachip, which he set it off to the side. “One down, one to go.”
Kevin rested his elbows on his knees. “How long does the coding process usually take?”
“For the two of you? Probably not more than an hour. Once Jemina verifies the specs and the code parameters, the machine will produce the nanites.” He laughed. “That woman loves working with nanites more than anybody I know.”
A second datachip popped out of the computer. “Excellent.” Payton glanced between them. “Think you can find your way back to the waiting room?”
They both nodded.
“Good. Someone will come for you when it’s time. Nice meeting you two. Godspeed.”
The twins headed back through the white halls into the silent beige waiting room, their footsteps gentle slaps against the brown tile. Lilia let out a sigh of relief. “Well, that wasn’t too bad.”
Kevin flopped into a corner chair commanding a view of the entire room and stretched his lanky legs out to cross them at the ankles. “Let’s just hope the infusion process is that easy.”
She settled into the next chair and dropped her bag to the floor beside his. Anxiety licked at the edges of her mind, but she pushed it away. We’ll be fine.
~~~~
“Kevin and Lilia Strong?”
The voice echoed through the small room and penetrated Lilia’s mind, where she teetered on the brink between sleep and wakefulness. At first, the words made no sense. Then they came again and her eyes snapped open. Here we go.
Sitting up, she shook off the residual fogginess of her nap before leaning over to poke Kevin, who clearly had not heard a thing. “Wake up, Kev. They’re calling us.”
He batted her hand away, mumbling sleepily.
She poked him again. “Wake up.”
Kevin jerked and shot up in his seat, blinking. “Is it time?”
“Yes.”
Sleepiness forgotten, he bounded to his feet. “Where?”
“There.” Lilia motioned to the doorway on the left marked Infusion Wing, where a young woman in teal scrubs with honey-brown hair stood waving to them.
Kevin started in her direction and Lilia joined him, feeling the first faint twinges of excitement. They greeted the brunette with identical smiles.
She beamed at them in return. “Melinda Carr. I’m one of the nurses here.” Her brown eyes lingered on Kevin. “Dr. Dover is waiting for you in Room 118.”
Ushering them through the doorway, Melinda proceeded to lead them further into the Infusion Wing. “In case you were wondering,” she said, smiling at Kevin again, “there’s nothing to be nervous about. The infusion process is simple and virtually painless.”
“Good to know,” he replied.
Lilia smothered a laugh.
“Right here, please.” Melinda gestured to an open door on their left.
The twins preceded her into a room that, except for its lack of windows, could have been transplanted from any hospital in the Sta’Gloan system. Glowpanels in the ceiling cast a sterile gleam over the room’s meager contents: two beds with a little table beside each, various machines scattered about, and an ugly chair in the corner. A door adjacent to the entrance led to a tiny hygiene unit.
Dr. Dover stood beside one of the tables, examining a tray of glass vials filled with smoky gray liquid. A second tray sat on the other table. Her slender fingers arranged each vial in an order fathomable only to herself before she looked up at the twins. “Miss Strong, Mr. Strong, we’re ready to begin the procedure.”
This was it. Lilia and Kevin turned to each other with solemn faces.
“I feel like we’re about to embark on a strange journey,” Kevin said.
Lilia nodded. “That’s because we are.”
After they had changed into the loose-fitting, pale blue shirts and pants waiting for them on the beds, Dover directed them to lie down and make themselves comfortable.
“You are going to be here for the next twenty-four hours while I transfer six different vials of nanites into your bodies by means of a general electrolyte hydration solution. As I’m sure Dr. Payton explained, these contain all the nanites you’ll need to materialize your armor.”
Kevin mustered a grin. “Can’t wait.” Dropping his bag on the chair, he claimed the bed closest to the door.
Lilia dumped her bag beside his and took the other bed.
When they were settled, Melinda tapped a button at the foot of each bed. Metal railings slid up into place. Then she brought the machines to life. Flat panels in the wall above each table lit up with the twins’ respective pulse rates and brain activity.
Kevin craned his neck around to study them. “Well, I guess this proves we don’t share a brain, Lil.”
“You needed proof?” She glanced over at his stats. “I’ve known that for years.”
He made a face at her.
She made the same face back at him. Melinda hid a smile behind a hand.
“We’ll start with you, Mr. Strong.” Dover picked up one of the vials and turned to Kevin.
While Melinda prepped his arm and started the IV, Dover withdrew a metallic cylinder from one of the machines beside his bed. Removing the front panel, she inserted the vial of nanites and suspended it between the top and bottom of the opening. Then she closed the panel, slid the cylinder back into the machine, and connected the machine to Kevin’s IV line.
Selecting a syringe from the table beside his nanites, Dover then produced a bottle from her pocket.
Lilia narrowed her eyes. “What is that?”
“Mild sedative.” Dover filled the syringe and added it to Kevin’s IV line without looking at either him or Lilia. “We need you to be calm and relaxed for this.”
That doesn’t really make me feel better. Lilia watched as the two women moved around to her side and performed the same procedure. She held back a grimace at the sharp bite of the I.V. needle.
When they finished, she stared down at the slender intravenous tube feeding into her arm and tried to imagine nanites percolating their way throughout her body. I wonder how long it’ll take for me to feel them.
She and Kevin both looked up as Dover cleared her throat. “I’ve given you a sedative because you will need to be restrained for the first half of the infusion process.”
Restrained? Lilia stiffened.
“Why?” Kevin asked, his eyes narrowing.
The doctor fixed them both with a stern expression. “Infusion of the nanites can invoke a fatal immune response within your bodies.”
What? Lilia almost forgot to breathe.
Kevin swallowed. “That…doesn’t sound good.”
Dover shook her head. “It’s not. That’s why we introduce the nanites so slowly. We want them to slip undetected through your bloodstream to the cellular levels they will occupy.” She waved a hand. “In a moment I’ll activate a force field, which will ensure your safety should your bodies reject the nanites. It will be removed when I am certain you will not have any…adverse reactions.”
Lilia forced her voice to work. “Has this actually happened?”
Dover shrugged. “It’s not common, but there have been a few cases over the years.”
“Make sure you’re comfortable,” Melinda advised. “Arms at your sides.”
Lilia’s eyes found her brother’s; she saw her own uncertainty mirrored on his face. Then Kevin nodded. We can do this, he mouthed.
Taking a deep breath, Lilia lay back against her pillow. She moved her long braid out of the way and straightened her arms. Then she stared up at the ceiling. I’m not quite sure what to expect.
Seconds later, her entire body tingled as every hair stood on end. She tried to wiggle her toes, her fingers—anything—but could not. The force field pinned her motionless to the bed.
Her heart rate increased, but she forced herself to take steady, even breaths. My head…I can move my head. That was a small comfort.
“Excellent,” Dover said softly. “The sedative should take effect any moment now. Nurse Carr will be back in a few hours to change vials. I will see you tomorrow morning.” She exchanged a few murmured words with the nurse and departed.
Melinda dimmed the glowpanels, plunging the room into semi-darkness, and moved to the door. “Have a nice nap. I’ll be keeping any eye on you.” The door slid shut behind her with a barely audible hiss.
Kevin’s voice floated through the sudden silence. “You feel anything?”
Lilia shook her head, before remembering it was too dark for him to see the movement. “No.”
“Me neither. Probably too early.”
“Probably.”
He paused. “I still think we’re doing the right thing.”
Lilia sighed. “I do too. It’s just a little—”
“—scary. I know.”
She bit her lip, staring wide-eyed up into the dark, fighting off a touch of panic at being unable to move. “Yeah.”
Kevin let out a dry chuckle. “You know, I can’t believe Lon didn’t even say anything about how weird it is to have nanites crawling around under your skin. You’d think he’d have gotten a kick out of watching us squirm.”
At his words, Lilia felt invisible specks scamper all over her trapped body. She closed her eyes. “Thanks, Kevin. Just what I needed to visualize right now.”
“Happy to help.”
“You just want company in your misery.” She shot a pointed glare in his direction.
“Why suffer alone?” There was no mistaking the smirk in his voice.
“There are some things you don’t need to share,” she grumbled. “Especially when we can’t move.”
He laughed, but did not reply.
Silence settled over them again. Lilia felt her eyes grow heavy as the sedative began to take effect. She glanced around the room for something to occupy her attention, but the faint light cast by the various machines was not enough to illuminate anything.
“You still awake?”
She made a noncommittal murmur.
Kevin huffed. “I can’t sleep with this thing on me. It’s too weird.”
“You’ve been thinking again, haven’t you?” She yawned. “Relax.”
He shot her a sour look in the dark. “Somebody’s all better.”
“Sedative.” Her eyes drifted shut. “‘Sides, have to keep you…in touch with…reality…”
Kevin said something else, but Lilia slid feet-first into oblivion before he finished.