Chapter 30

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"AAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The scream ripped through the small operating room. Bryce fought madly against the restraints that pinned him to the operating table. His head was wrapped in bandages, blinding him. The pressure on his right eye was immense, as Dr. Higgins continued his work in spite of the pain he was inflicting.

"There, there; almost done now," Dr. Higgins teased, applying pressure to Bryce's new optical implant with his thumb. "We have to make sure the device integrates properly, or who knows what it might do to your motor function." He released the pressure, then stepped back, admiring the pained expression on his patient's face with delight. "There we are!" he proclaimed. "Now, how do you feel?"

Bryce took several heaving breaths to steady himself as the pain in his eye slowly subsided. He could still feel whatever it was moving slightly, but at least it was not causing pain. "I hate you so much," he gasped.

Dr. Higgins laughed, then pulled at the bandages until Bryce's left--and currently unaltered--eye was uncovered. "Don't worry," Dr. Higgins said, "once I re-calibrate your memory, you will love me like a father."

Bryce glowered at the mad scientist, his breath hissing between his clenched teeth.

"But first!" Dr. Higgins shouted suddenly, straightening sharply with his index finger held up, as though he'd had a great idea. "We're going to surgically implant braces into your legs!"

"But...why?" Bryce asked. "Why are you doing all of this to me?"

"For science, of course!" Dr. Higgins retrieved an over-sized rifle from a nearby table. It was so heavy, he had to brace it against the operating table. "Now, would you like a...shot to numb the pain a bit before we operate?"

"I would hate you less."

That earned Bryce another laugh from the mad scientist. "Ha-ha! But that takes all the fun away!" He leaned closer to whisper, "Between you and me, it's going to be a rough ride. Don't worry, I'll erase any post traumatic stress you might have afterward. I don't like my toys permanently broken."

Bryce renewed his struggle against his restraints as a wave of panic hit him. "Please," he begged, "please, don't do this to me."

"Oh, don't worry my boy!" Dr. Higgins said, cheerfully waving his massive gun. "Dr. Bevel over there will be the one performing the oper-"

He was cut off as the gun went off with a loud *pop!*.

From his restricted perspective, Bryce could only guess what was going on, but he was certain now of one thing. "What was that?! Was that a gun?!" he asked in horror.

"This is just the fun of science, Bryce!" Dr. Higgins set the gun carefully back on the table, then he turned to Dr. Bevel, who now had a large dart sticking out of his right hand. "Dr. Bevel, are you still good to operate?"

The silent surgeon gave him two thumbs up, though one of them looked decidedly floppy.

"Excellent! Then I will be tormenting Miss Shyla Kaur if you need anything." With that, Dr. Higgins left, leaving Bryce to his cruel fate.


Jonas was beginning to doze off now that the excitement had worn off from Isaac's mission. There hadn't been any more word, so he was left to his own thoughts for now. He was almost asleep when he heard a light tapping on the bars in his cell door window. He snapped awake, standing cautiously to peer through the window. A book was being pushed between the bars into his cell. He recognized it immediately as Holmes's journal.

"Mr. Taylor!" a hushed whisper called to him.

Jonas came to the door and pulled the journal inside, then looked out to try and identify the speaker. "Cecil?" he asked in surprise.

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