Wednesday, September 7, 2011


Vira is one of the many fictional planets I've made as part of my plan to become a rich and famous science-fiction writer. It is a planet with a population of over fifteen billion people who, through no fault of their own, are locked in an endless war of attrition after Vira was knocked out of orbit in a freak asteroid related accident. Now completely frozen and millions of miles away from the star it used to orbit, Vira is a constant battleground as enemy factions struggle to stay alive on their frigid homeworld as it jettisons clear out of it's star system. Vira moves so fast in fact that it's scientists have predicted that it will be in intergalactic space within a generation. Of course, few believe their civilization will survive long enough to see the day when their planet is flung well out of their galaxy. Nuclear war threatens to end all life on the planet on a daily basis.

It isn't all hopeless on Vira, medical science is an exciting field that develops new technology at a startling rate. The hero of today's story is about to find that out the hard way in a piece I like to call...

The Cyborgs of Death

Sergeant Liam Moore's dropship was shot down by enemy fighters less then an hour ago. The entire crew escaped miraculously unscathed except for himself who was now missing an arm and rapidly loosing blood from the remaining stump. The nearest Coalition base was over a hundred kilometers away, leaving the entire squad isolated in the freezing wilderness of Vira. Sergeant Moore couldn't help but notice that he wasn't quickly freezing to death or suffering from massive blood loss but was instead strapped to an operating table quickly moving down what looked like an automated assembly line.

His head was swimming, his vision was blurred; there was a dull throbbing pain where his left arm used to be. The operating table slowed to a stop, suddenly Private Booker appeared on a nearby catwalk. His shaved head was wrapped with a bandage but otherwise fine.

"He Sarge, how're you holding up?" He said.

Sergeant Moore could barely muster a half-hearted mumble to respond.

"Hey yeah don't strain yourself, you've been injected with, like, a ton of tranquilizers. Yeah as it turns out we crash landed right next to a Cyborg Nationalist base. Crazy right? They don't show up on radar. Anyway, they said they'd fix your arm for free. Just sit tight, it'll be over soon."

The table started to move again, leaving the Private behind on the catwalk. For a while Sergeant Moore was at ease. He had heard about the Cyborg Nationalists, they were a peaceful people who had remained neutral for most of the war. They're cybernetics technology were supposed to be unparalleled; they were able to bring men back from the dead, giving him a new robot arm should be easy by comparison.

As Moore went deeper into the assembly line electronic eyes appeared, staring at him from the walls. The table stopped again and a field of laser beams passed over his battered body.

"Scans indicate subject is eligible for total conversion." A harsh electronic voice said.

Suddenly, dozens of robotic arms appeared, painfully probing his bare skin before receding back into the wall.

"Prepare for total conversion!" The voice said again.

"Wait, what?" Moore said, starting to wake up. "I didn't ask for this. Booker! Tell them to stop!"

The lights in the assembly line turned to a dark red as the table switched to the track to his left. More and more arms appeared, grabbing at the Sergeant, puncturing him with needles.

"Convert! Convert!" The voice chanted. "CONVERT!"

The table moved into a more horizontal position as it traveled, leaving Moore to stare at the ceiling which he just noticed was flecked with droplets of blood.

"I didn't ask for this! Stop it!" Moore yelled at the assembly line.

The table stopped in front of an enormous metal arm ending in a circular saw. More arms appeared to restrain Moore as he jerked from side to side. The saw slowly started to spin, accompanied by a high pitched whine. It effortlessly swung into position just above his knee-caps and did a quick pass, spraying blood all over his face. Two robotic claws appeared to dump his legs into a nearby disposal bin. The saw made another pass, quickly removing his other arm and what was left of his stump.

Now totally limbless and screaming in pain, Moore moved to the next area. New arms and legs were moved into position as claws held him down.

"We will now install your prostheses. Be advised, they will be connected to your pre-existing nerve fibers and you may feel momentary discomfort." The voice said.

Smaller, more delicate looking claws moved into place and pulled the wires in the legs towards his stumps. A camera-eye took a quick look at the bloody mangled flesh and the wires were crammed in. Moore felt a sensation like being electrocuted as the new limbs were connected to his nervous system. A giant gun appeared, driving huge metal bolts into the stumps to keep the mechanics in place as a team of arch-welders appeared. There was a bright light, leaving Moore blinded, when his vision returned he was in a huge warehouse, surrounded by hundreds of other unfortunates who were receiving total conversion.

The Sargent tried moving and felt sick to his stomach. He could feel what was left of his bones scraping against the metal surface of his new limbs.

"You're augmentations are not yet complete and have been disabled for your safety." The voice reminded him.

Suddenly, the table made a sharp turn, returning to the assembly line. Another saw appeared and made a deep cut from his neck to groin. Moore's stomach split open effortlessly, spilling his organs onto the table. He could feel himself about to faint when a giant needle appeared, stabbing him with something. He was suddenly completely awake again, staring at the surgical machines scooping his organs out, cutting large sections of intestines into ribbons.

"Your gastro-intestinal system being upgraded, please remain calm." The voice said.

Long sections of plastic tube was placed in the now empty cavity in Moore's chest. His stomach, heart and what assumed to be his pancreas were returned, modified, covered in mechanical augmentations. The surgery was being performed with industrial speed, the claws moving so fast he couldn't focus on just one. When they left his chest was blinking mass of cybernetically enhanced meat. He felt like fainting again, another needle appeared to pump him full of whatever chemical cocktail had kept him awake so far. Another saw appeared, removing his sternum and replacing it with a shiny metallic alternative in one swift motion.

The table turned over so he was now facing the floor which, with little exception, was a thick pool of blood and metal grates. He felt something puncture his spine and drill deep holes down his back.

"You're entire nervous system is being augmented." The voice said.

Moore could feel every electrode get placed in his spine, one by one, until there were twenty-six of them that ran the length of his back. A huge incision was cut into what was left of his natural arms and legs as another machine tore into his shoulders and hips. Metal structures were placed as the table flipped right-side up again. Moore saw that he now had what appeared to be large pistons jutting out his stumps, connecting his artificial limbs to his now very artificial shoulders and hips.

He felt himself faint again, but there was no enormous needle to keep him awake this time. When he woke up, even more of him had been replaced, his ribcage was now a shiny chrome imitation and two large valves had been place in his chest.

"You're nose is now obsolete, so we removed it. Congratulations, you can now breath through your chest!" The voice said.

Sure enough, his entire nose was gone, replaced with yet more metallic armor.

The assembly line came to an end and Moore was back in the warehouse. Other patients were moving in lines beside him; naked and covered in blood. Their bodies had been mangled and replaced with robotic substitutes. Some of them had their skulls cut open, revealing brains covered in glowing electrodes. Another saw appeared above Moore's head, making a clean cut above his eyebrows in a circle around his skull which made a popping sound as it fell off. Everyone on the assembly line was exchanging nervous glances at each other, some where still screaming for help. There were both men and women being modified.

A cable reached into Moore's brain and plugged into something he couldn't see. In an instant millions of images and words flashed across his now-artificial eyes as he suddenly understood every language on Vira, the essentials of quantum mechanics, space flight, everything. Sergeant Moore was rapidly learning everything.

"Congratulations!" Said a voice from inside his head. "You are now running CyberOS Version 5.42. You're procedure was a complete success. You are now an estimated fifty times as efficient as you were before. Our troubleshooting hot-line is open at all times, feel free to open a communication channel if you have questions about your conversion. Thank you!"

The operating table finally released him, dumping the Sergeant into a waiting room full of soldiers from his squad. Their eyes turned to big white saucers staring at his mutilated body as a shocked silence filled the room.

Sergeant Moore stood in the center, not saying anything and taking quick glances at his new cybernetic body.

"" Booker finally said. "They didn't say they were gonna do all...that."

The room was silent again.

"So...does it hurt?" Private Charles said.

"At first, yeah." Moore said as looked at the holes in his back.

Everyone in the room was looking over the Cyborg's handiwork. Even the Moore couldn't help but examine it, especially the places where the new limbs connected to the old. He was now slightly taller then anyone else in the squad. His arthritis was gone too. He hated to admit it, but Moore actually felt augmented. His entire body felt better then it was before, more powerful and sturdy. He didn't even mind that everyone was staring at him. He was glad, he wanted people to see his new form.

"Actually, I have to admit, I feel pretty good. Anyone else feel like running a few laps?" Moore said.

"Sure but put on some pants first." Booker said.

1 comment:

Chanel said...

I actually like this!

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