November 23, 2009

Eventually, the chamber cleared out and Gerhardt and Kincaid were once again left alone with the technicians and other staff members.

Kincaid came to stand beside Gerhardt. "That went well, I think," he said.

Gerhardt nodded absently for a moment. "Well enough," he finally admitted. Certainly Adamson had seemed pleased by it, and if the Director was happy . . . He turned to Nicholas. "Well, Nick," he said. "Shall we head back to the lab?"

"No."

Gerhardt exchanged a surprised look with Kincaid.

"No?" Gerhardt asked, trying to figure out how to get more clarification from Nicholas based on their limited common vocabulary.

"More," Nicholas intoned.

Gerhardt looked incredulous at first and then began to smile. "You want to practice walking more?"

"Yes."

"You're not too tired?"

"No."

"Okay then," Gerhardt chuckled, "but we are. Give us ten minutes and then we'll get started. Okay?"

"Yes."

Gerhardt smiled at him and then turned to address the others. "Ten-minute break, everyone," he called out. "And then Nick wants to try again."

There were approving murmurs from nearly everyone present.

"Come on," Gerhardt told Kincaid, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. "I could use some good coffee." He smiled, glancing once more at Nicholas. "I'll buy."

#

Gerhardt entered Nicholas' room carrying an oblong, rectangular plastic case. Nicholas had not been expecting a visit from Gerhardt. The retired colonel had become very respectful of his privacy and time, making a point of scheduling most of his visits in advance. It was not as though Nicholas had a lot with which to fill his time, but he found that he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. The exceptions tended to be when Gerhardt had urgent news. Rarely was it good, but Gerhardt wanted Nicholas to hear it from him first before he heard it as a rumor in the halls.

Seemingly flushed with exhilaration, Gerhardt placed the case on one of the nearby utility tables. Nicholas saw that it somewhat resembled a plastic briefcase, but with an opaque exterior.

"Nick," Gerhardt said, "I have a surprise for you." The excitement was clearly evident in the man's voice.

Nicholas' gaze fixed on the case. He was trying to imagine what kind of pleasant surprise might come in such a container. It was not Gerhardt's usual briefcase, nor was it even remotely packaged like a gift.

Gerhardt released the latches on the case and opened it. He withdrew what looked like a sheet of mottled rubber or vinyl. It was various shades of gray and with a slick surface that reminded Nicholas of the hide of a dolphin. Gerhardt was grinning at him.

"Nick," he said. "Let me introduce you to your skin."

Nicholas stared at Gerhardt and then tilted his head slightly for a better look at what Gerhardt was holding up. He had a sudden mental image of his exoskeleton covered with layers of the material and him roaming the corridors looking like a giant walking shark.

Gerhardt spread it out on the surface of the tray. "It contains a mesh of filaments that connect a series of miniature sensors." His fingers traced imaginary lines on the substance's slick surface. "We believe we can use it to provide you with a sense of 'touch'," he explained. A slight frown formed on his expression. "At minimum, we're hoping it can provide you with at least minimal feedback regarding pressure and, hopefully, temperature changes. It should also be able to warn you if its surface has been compromised or otherwise damaged."

Gerhardt's grin returned and he dipped his hand into the container once more. "This is my pride and joy," he announced, lifting an item made of the same material from the interior of the case.

The object hung limply from Gerhard's hand and seemed to have several thick tentacles. Nicholas' first thought was that the researcher had made some kind of artificial squid and was showing off his handiwork. Gerhardt then turned the item and separated the wide tendrils from one another. Nicholas then realized that it was a glove, looking much like the thick, heavy ones he had seen used in the graduate chemistry labs at school.

"It should be just your size," Gerhardt told him, smiling. Gerhardt's eyes turned toward Nicholas' hand and Nicholas finally grasped the older man's meaning.

Nicholas' gaze now moved to his own hand as well. Gerhardt smiled. "Want to give it a try?"

"Yes."

Gerhardt grinned as he nodded. "I thought you might."

There was a sound at the door as two technicians entered pushing a large workstation on a cart. Gerhardt turned to look at them and then back to Nicholas. "That'll help us calibrate it," he explained, stepping out of the way as the technicians moved the cart closer to Nicholas' bed. He smiled again at Nicholas. "Ready?"

Nicholas slowly lifted his hand from where it lay at his side. His movements were still slow, but they were rapidly becoming more fluid, requiring less concentration to initiate. Gerhardt had told him that this was a good thing, that it meant that he was becoming more comfortable in his new body, and that its systems were adapting to him. He stopped the motion when the hand was several centimeters from the bed.

Gerhardt nodded, still smiling, and began the process of sliding the strange, eel-like skin over Nicholas' metal fingers. Nicholas watched the process, still finding it odd that he felt no sensation from the oily material against his fingers. He thought he knew what it should feel like, but the lack of any sensation remained disconcerting.

It took several minutes for Gerhardt, with the assistance of one of the technicians, to get the "glove" fitted over Nicholas' hand. The material, while flexible, did not seem quite as pliable as Gerhardt had hoped. He and the technician seemed to struggle with it around the joints of the fingers, but finally seemed reasonably satisfied with the results.

"There we go," Gerhardt said, and sat back with a sigh. "Try it out."

It took Nicholas a moment to realize what Gerhardt meant. Watching his hand as he did so, Nicholas slowly began to flex his fingers. As it stretched, the synthetic skin made a strange squeaking sound that bordered on irritating, in the same way that a marker screeching on a writing board was. Its appearance as it wrinkled around the joints, though, seemed reasonably realistic.

Kincaid entered while Nicholas was still examining his hand. Gerhardt turned, his face becoming expressionless for a moment when he heard the door open. His smile quickly returned when he recognized the intruder.

"You're just in time, Lewis," Gerhardt said. "We're just about to start calibrating the sensor matrix."

Kincaid nodded, looking intently at Nicholas' hand. Without asking, he stepped forward and began to examine it, prodding areas of it with his finger. Again, Nicholas found it unsettling to feel nothing.

Kincaid turned Gerhardt. "It looks like a good fit."

Gerhardt seemed pleased by the praise. "Now we'll see if it really works as we expect." He gestured to one of the technicians outside Nicholas' field of vision. "Okay, Nick," he said. "Remember how we had you connected directly into the wheelchair?"

"Yes."

"Good," Gerhardt nodded with a smile. "We need to do something similar to that today," he explained. "Just until we get it properly calibrated. Then we can hook it into your own systems. Do you understand?"

Nicholas did not entirely understand, but he also was in no mood for an informative lecture from Gerhardt. His impatience to find out what was going to happen won out. "Yes."

"Good, good," Gerhardt murmured. He looked in the direction of the technician, frowning. "Nick," he said, "I want to take your visual systems offline . . . just while we test this." He flashed Nicholas a reassuring smile. "I just want to make sure that your reactions aren't influenced by what you see and, therefore, think you should experience." He stared directly into Nicholas' eyes. "It'll be okay," he said calmly. "Your hearing will remain online. And I'll be right here. We'll all be right here."

There was a long pause before Nicholas responded.

"Yes."

Gerhardt gave Nicholas a pleased smile. His eyes moved in the direction of the technician. "Override the vision systems."

"Yes, doctor," came the quiet acknowledgment from behind Nicholas.

Before he could speak, Nicholas' world went black. It had been a long time since he had experienced this complete and total darkness, except in periods of sleep. He did not like it. He felt very alone.

"I'm right here, Nicholas," came Gerhardt's calm voice. "We're going to begin in a moment. We're connecting the circuits now."

Nicholas heard a series of murmured voices, but nothing he could make out distinctly. Gerhardt's voice then returned clearly. "Nick," he said. "Do you feel anything different?"

Nicholas paused a moment, trying to determine whether anything seemed different about his environment. Other than for his lack of sight, he did not sense anything that had not been there before.

"No."

"Good," Gerhardt said, sounding pleased. There was a long pause before his voice returned. "Okay, Nick," he said, "we're going to begin. I want you to let me know immediately if you sense anything new, anything at all. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Good, Nick," Gerhardt said. "Now keep your hand perfectly still. Don't move it until I ask you to, okay?"

Nicholas thought this was a stupid request. It was far easier for him to do nothing, than to make his limbs move.

"Yes."

Gerhardt gestured for the technician to hand him a pointed stylus. She passed it to him and Gerhardt studied it for a moment. Finally seeming satisfied with the instrument, he started to take Nicholas' hand and then drew his back. Chuckling softly to himself, he reached out with the stylus and traced an invisible line along the back of Nicholas' hand, applying only the lightest pressure. He lifted the stylus away and waited, looking toward Nicholas. When the young man did not respond, he repeated the same action across the surface of the surface of the palm. Again, this elicited no response from Nicholas.

Looking up, Gerhardt saw the technician shake his head silently at him. Gerhardt frowned slightly and turned his attention back the Nicholas' raised hand. He drew the stylus across the back of Nicholas' hand again, pressing slightly harder this time. Pausing, he waited for a response from Nicholas, but did not receive one. He tried again, applying much more pressure. The slick material furrowed deeply at the point of contact; Gerhardt feared that he might actually puncture it. He was about to withdraw the stylus again when he heard Nicholas speak.

"Pain."

Gerhardt, noting the depth to which the stylus was pressed, withdrew it. "Very good, Nick," he said. "We're going to make a few adjustments at this end and then we'll try it again. Okay?"

"Yes."