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Red.
Adam's first thought.
All he could see was red. A bright but impervious red veil, hiding the world from his eyes. Before his eyes? It felt kind of... unreal, this light. More like he was watching a digital screen, red-glowing warning lamps.
Then he realized that this was exactly it what he was seeing - some red, but also a bunch of green indexes, right in his sight, no - in his head! What the -
"Adam! Adam, can you hear me?"
A vaguely familiar voice.
"Adam! Come on, wake up!"
Sarif. Yes, right. So he was in his office? No, impossible. His office wouldn't smell that pungently after disinfectants. And still he wouldn't sleep at work, not him!
"Mr Jensen!" An unfamiliar voice.
Try and open the eyes? Couldn't be too difficult, could it?
He tried, but his eyelids didn't obey. Worriedly he focused his senses on his arms. They felt strange, very strange, didn't obey to him. Legs the same way. Fear rose up in him.
"Wwwaa - " was all he could say, his throat felt raw and dry.
"Adam, it's okay, you're safe now." Sarif again.
What evil could, or no, what had happened to him? The memories were far away. He had been sitting next to Megan in her laboratory and had been talking to one of his men, he should boost up the posts at the airfield. The plane... Megan... They were heading for Washington, to speak in front of the senate, that's what it was. Where...
"Meg..."
"I'm sorry, Adam, so sorry. Megan and her team, the raiders, they..." Sarif silenced. David Sarif was out of words. That was meaning the worst.
Again he tried to open up his eyes, to move somehow - it was impossible. The fear changed into panic. He grasped for air, wanted to talk, brought nothing out of his mouth.
"It's okay, Mr Jensen, stay calm. You're safe. You've been injured seriously in the raid, but we have saved you. You can't move by now, your cybernetic limbs have to synchronize with the neuronal implants first."
Cyber- what??? They had him...?
Sarif must have recognized the terror on his face as he tried to calm Adam down.
"It's not as bad as it sounds, Adam. I'm absolutely sure you'll soon get used to it. You'll be stronger, faster and more brilliant than ever before in your life."
In life? Funny guy. Megan, his arms, his legs, his damned eyes - all gone. His life was over.
He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, time was without meaning. He felt no pain, no more fear, from time to time he was even sure he was already dead. Yes, this was how death must feel - mercyful oblivion, no more thoughts, no more feelings.
Then eventually his new implants and prostheses began to work, one by one. First the arms. He regained feelings in his fingers, noticed the weight of his blanket, could move his hands, piece by piece. Felt the bandages and plasters on his abdomen and chest, the cool metal of the second arm, the growing hair on his chin, the plasters over his eyes. Then the same with his legs. First the feelings, then eventually he could slowly bend and stretch them out again.
The doctor, one of the LIMB specialists, came often to see him, linked wires to his head and mostly murmured things like: "Fine, excellent, strong bio feedback, no inflammation parameters, very good."
And then there was also the nurse, a friendly young man with gentle hands. He washed Adam's face and upper body until his arms started working, then he led Adam's hands, so that he could take care for himself. He changed the several infusions and nutrition liquids and also did certain things Adam wasn't keen on knowing more about.
At some point he became aware he wasn't at the surgical ward of the LIMB Clinic any more but in his own apartment, on the sofa in his living room. He knew it because of the familiar smells and sounds, and the male nurse confirmed it. Soon he went up for the first time, wondering anxiously if the strange legs would really bear him.
They did, better than expected. The stabilizers had already synchronized themselves with his new, chip-supported balance system. He stood fast and safe, without swaying, without dizziness, though still missing a visual picture of his surrounding - all his new eyes showed to him was casual test screens and warning lights, but mostly absolute blackness. Hard to bear.
The further cure process went on briskly. Soon he could have regular nutrition, the infusion lines were removed one by one. The first independent toilet visit was an almost ceremonial event. Only the energy bars he needed now to supply his augmentations with energy almost made him gag. Luckily just a supplementation to his beloved cereals. Oh yes, he had been missing them...
Finally the great day, on which the covers were removed from his artificial eyes and the lenses were fully activated, came. The doctor watched as the nurse carefully removed the tapes.
"Please keep your eyes closed for one more moment", the doctor commanded. "Okay, now I activate full access via remote..."
The familiar green and red flashing lights appeared in Adam's sight again. Today the most of them were green, this was new. Then one of them flashed up shortly, and the black in the background became brighter, turned into an orange and red shimmer. Sunlight, shining through his eyelids.
"Okay, accomodation complete, you can open your eyes now."
Adam did. He had himself prepared for some kind of shock, with being blinded and in pain, but it was completely different. It was somehow... normal. Just like nothing had happened, maybe even a bit clearer than before.
"Alright, fine, the neuronal processors are running within normal parameters", the doctor told. "And, how do you feel, Mr Jensen?"
"Okay, I think. It's definitely been worse before."
"Fine, okay. The HUD's will be activated after and after, when you've become used to your new body and the additional functions."
"HUD's?", Adam asked confusedly.
"Heads Up Displays. They show all important environmental parameters directly in your sight."
"Uh- yes." Adam nodded, understanding, but not appreciating.
"So in the future my world will look like an Ego Shooter."
"Well, you can deactivate any function anytime..."
"Calming."
"Yeah, well, I'll explain you the details later. That's enough so far, I guess - just start getting used to your new eyes!" Proud like a hoover seller who has just sold the latest model to some housewife he left. Adam stayed back alone with the nurse.
"How about going to the bathroom and getting your beard back into shape, Adam? I've seen this picture in your medical record, you've paid a lot of attention to your look before, haven't you?"
"My look, huh?" Adam nodded. "Why not? Guess I've been lying around long enough..."
Getting up was still a bit laboriously, the coordination between his hands, feet and eyes wasn't working properly yet, but Adam managed it at the third try. Finding the path to the toilet was something he could have done blindly, but with seeing eyes it was bettter, of course. Adam opened the bathroom door, stepped inside, habitually turned his head left towards the mirror - and was stunned.
No.
Impossible.
That - this thing - no, not him!
An aug. He. was. a. bloody. aug. No doubt, he had turned into a cyborg. The face of the man he always was able to look right into the eyes was gone. Surely, it still had the narrow, edgy shape like before, still the same distinctive chin, the thick, dark hair. But besides... Narrow black metal stripes were running under artificial yellow and green eyes, a skin coloured octagon stood clearly visible on his left forehead. Under it, he knew from the former examinations by the doctor, were lying hidden several links, leading directly into his brain. Not to talk about the beard... Completely out of shape. Strange, how much this bothered him right now.
No, this was no more him, it would never again be him. This must be the way someone must feel when, like in a bad movie, suddenly was tucked into the wrong skin... His stomach started cramping, bitter bile went up into his mouth, just like the scream, soundless first, then growing louder and louder, finally turning into a tornished roar, like the final scream of a wild animal. Almost silently the mirror above the sink splintered under Adam's wild punch.
Afterwards he was lying on the sofa, burned out. Tears, actual human tears were running down his face. Almost surprised he realized them.
What, what on earth had they made of him? And why?
The memories of the raid on Sarif Industries were still incomplete, the nurse had told him most of the known facts. A nightmare. Damn it, he had been a policeman, a good one, in an elite unit. He had seen so much of the harm men do to each other, and he had grown tired of it. This had been one of the reasons for him to accept the job as chief of security at Sarif. A calm job, he had been hoping, close to Megan.
Megan.
Surely, they had stopped being a couple almost four years ago. Primarily because of their jobs, holding the both of them captured with hardly any space for breathing and for each other. They hadn't broke up in anger, had kept their friendship alive. Something had them still linked together, and at least Adam had kept up the hope that someday things would change. Someday... A new, common house, a dog, who wouldn't have to stay most of the day alone, and kids... one, maybe two... Yes, that would be a good thing.
And now... Megan dead and he a monster of steel and carbon fibres, all hope gone.
Adam wanted to die.
The nurse entered the room, had heard the scream and seen the broken mirror. Without a word he sat down next to Adam, pushed an injector against his neck and took his hand until soon after a deep, dreamless sleep pulled Adam kindly into his arms.
Somehow, things went on. Visitors came, made concerned faces and left again. Some of them stayed a bit. Megan's mother for example. Between Adam and her stood some silent comprehension, linked by the common grief. Some old SWAT mates came and tried to comfort him by showing him their own augmentations and telling him again and again that being an aug really wasn't that bad.
Eventually, after several weeks David Sarif showed up at Adam's place. Meanwhile, Adam had recovered so far that he could take care for himself again, the doctor and the nurse came only around for short visits.
Sarif shook Adam's hand and looked at him from head to toe.
"How are you, Adam?"
"The polite answer or the honest one, boss?"
"The honest one, Adam, honestly please!"
"Concerning my body, I have nothing to complain about. The wounds are healing properly, most of the bandages are gone, as you see. My organism accepts the implants without problems."
"Good to hear that." Sarif nodded and smiled encouragingly. "But? Your soul doesn't feel at home in the new body yet?"
Adam sighed. His boss's head was so full with augs that he could have put it into a vitrine as complete catalogue of his own products. Sarif knew already what the other one was about to say before that person had formulated the words by himself.
"Yeah, the soul..."
"You'll get used to it, Adam, I'm absolutely sure. If you had been a real enemy of the augmentations technology, you surely won't have accepted the job in my company."
"Surely not. But selling chocolate and eating chocolate are still two different things."
"Chocolate, hm?" Sarif smiled briefly. "A kind metaphor."
"I've never been a serious opponent of augs, that's right. But... this here? I never asked for this!"
"Adam, you must believe me, my first aim was to save your life."
"As far as I know, you won't have to saw off all my limbs for saving my life. What was wrong with them?"
"Well..." Sarif was looking for the right words briefly. "Well, there was nothing wrong with them, not actually..."
"So?" Adam felt how the anger from the last weeks slowly rose up in him again.
"So... Adam, rough times are awaiting for us, damn hard times, you won't have to be a prophet to see that. The latest massive protestations against our work, the pending referendum, that could be followed by a prohibition of most of our researches in the worst case, and now the raid on the life of our scientists... Adam, I'll need you urgently, and I'll need all the power you can bring up. That's why I've decided for those drastically steps.
"Drastical steps? I guess that's what you could call it", Adam grumbled. "But why didn't you wake me up briefly and ask for my fiat, before sawing off about eighty percent of my body?"
"Surely, that would have been... well... more correct. But our time was running out, Adam, it would have been to complicated to first close your injuries tentatively, then stressing you with wakening you up and afterwards cut you open again."
"You were afraid that I could say no." Adam looked at Sarif challenging, but he didn't blink an eye.
"In the opposite, I was sure you would agree!"
"How that?"
"I'm absolutely sure that you want to find Megan's murderers."
Adam hadn't see this coming. "I want what?"
"Am I wrong?"
"Well... Actually not. But I thought it's sure that it's been those insane Purity First guys?"
Sarif made a face. "Purity First? No, that's just a bunch of idiots, too dumb to put a dust bin on fire. No, Adam, there's more behind, many, many more. Take all the time you need, the LIMB guys downtown have always a free appointment for you, also for this soul stuff. Get well again, really well, and then come back to me."
When Sarif was gone finally, Adam was left behind numbed. The nightmare was not over yet - it hadn't really started yet. Thoughtfully he looked at his shining black hands, then his fingers ran nervously through his thick, dark hair, and he looked through the window, where slowly dawn was breaking over the city. A bloody time he was living in. War, destruction, death - always the same. You've grown quite melancholic, he said silently to himself. And a killing machine. A wonderful, perfect killing machine. Finding Megan's murderers? Yes, that was a job for a killing machine. And afterwards?
Protecting the killing machine factory from other machines. Fine.
Who knows... Maybe he'd just go away, somewhere abroad. Maybe there was some piece on earth whithout war.
They wouldn't appreciate him there.
Aug.
So - going on, chasing criminals. If you say it that way, chasing criminals, it didn't even sound that bad. Maybe...
He would have to talk to those psycho guys from LIMB. Maybe they knew a few things about peace of mind and so on, and where you could find it again, when you were unable to recognize yourself in the mirror. In the bloody broken mirror. What was that thing? Seven years of bad luck if you break a mirror?
Adam closed his eyes, sighing. Somehow things would go on. That's how it always was. Step by step.
The nurse had left an injector for him, for emergencies. Adam had decided not to use it, he could do alright without tranquilizers. But now? No, he told himself, no vanities.
With a silent hissing the drug was injected trough the thin cannula into Adam's jugular vein. Deeply sighing he laid the injector onto the bedside table and pulled his metallic legs up into the bed.
Sleep came almost instantly, deep and dreamless. Tomorrow, with a clear head, he would think about how things could go on. Somehow, somehow things always went on...