Half Life

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            I blink. The WHAT project? My head swims. Why does this sound familiar?

            “The what project?” I ask the man aloud.

            “The Geniva Project.” He smiles at me again, causing another shiver to erupt. “Us, that is, my colleagues and I, have developed a new technology that can conform to the mechanics of the human body no matter where you place it. You can control it just as easily as you can a real body part. Your brain neurons send messages to where your appendage used to be, and the material can interpret that just as fast as the real thing, if not faster. It’s comfortable, so you can barely tell the difference. Here, try it out.”

            I hesitate, turning to look at this strange contraption. The metal seems to shimmer, especially to my right eye. I turn it over to flex the fingers. Pinkie, pointer, middle, ring, thumb. It feels just like moving real fingers. Real fingers. It finally dawns on me that more parts of my body may not be….mine anymore.

            I look back up at the scientist. He is watching me intently, gauging my reaction. His arms are crossed, and his eyebrows are raised. I realize he is waiting for me to say something. I clear my throat (is that still mine?) and form the words.

            “How much of me is like this?”

            This surprises him. He didn’t expect the question. He stares at me a moment longer before taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. Once they are placed back upon his crooked nose, he answers me.

            “Forty percent of your body contains the Geniva Alloy. This includes your entire right arm up to your elbow, your left lung, both kneecaps, and your right eye. The reason so much of your body contains it is because it’s laced through your brain and inside some of the cells themselves. This makes it much easier for the nerves to relay the messages and control your limbs.” He pauses. “When you first opened your right eye, you remember me telling you we had to activate it, correct?” I nod. “It contains a computer chip. It can analyze and read an individual’s facial features, instantly telling you their age, mood, and, on occasion, their name.”

                        This time, I look at him with a goal in mind. I stare into his eyes. Instantly, I hear a slight whirring in the back of my head. The sensation isn’t pleasant, but not entirely uncomfortable. A jolt passes through my skull and temples. My eye blinks on its own, and text scrolls across the right side of my vision.

            MALE, NAME UNKNOWN, AGE 46.

            I blink again, shocked. He was right. I stare at the red words in my line of vision. It slowly dawns on me that the rest of my body must also be different. I glance at the scientist again. He’s still looking at me like I’m a new toy. I suddenly hate him. I hate the look on his face. I hate what he’s done to me.

            As if sensing my displeasure, he gives me what he must think is a reassuring smile. To me, it’s more like a predator about to devour his pray.

            “Is something wrong?” He raises his eyebrows again.

            I seethe.

            “Is something wrong?” I reiterate. “Everything’s freakin’ wrong! I was in an accident, I can’t remember anything besides that, my body is no longer mine, and I have no idea where I am or who you are!” I realize I have no idea what this guy’s name is.

            He just smiles at me again.

            “The good news is that I can answer all of your concerns. The bad, I have to leave in a few minutes, so I’ll explain quickly, then you’re on your own.

            You were in a terrible car accident where you would have lost much of your body. Now, before you get technical, no, you have not lost them anyway. Think of it as gaining them back, even stronger than before.”

            No.

            “The reason you cannot remember anything is because the alloy is still taking time to get used to your brain. You can remember flashes of the accident because that was a traumatic experience, still fresh at the forefront of your thoughts. Finally, you are in the Geniva Lab, generated just for cases like these. You were brought here from a medical center in Illinois.”

            Satisfied, he checks his watch and turns to leave the room.

            As he turns the knob, I stop him.

            “You never told me who you were.”

            He whips back around, giving me another Cheshire Cat grin.

            “I am Dr. Antony Geniva.”  And he leaves the room, locking the door behind him.