Chameleon Ch 18

Captain Jackson and Quixote stood quietly in sick bay as Dr. Adams, wearing his surgical wardrobe, asked Mills for the implant. The bright light above the sterile field, and the UV light that maintained it, lit the exposed square around John Chin’s left eye socket.

Adams was finished with the evisceration. The three-millimeter sprocket that he’d removed from Chin’s eye, along with the iris, cornea, lens, and vitreous gel sat in a glob on the Mayo stand tray. He lifted the aluminum oxide ball from the packaging with delicate forceps and a feather touch.

“Nanites,” Adams said. Henderson opened a vacuum sealed bag with a small amount of clear gel inside. Each nanite suspended in the gel reflected a microscopic bit of light from the overhead, giving the clear gel a glistening sheen, somewhat magical, and powerful. She poured the cubic centimeter of soft gelatin into the shell of what had been Chin’s eye. Adams snuggled the porous globe on top of it.

“Silver-gel.”

Mills handed an open packet to Henderson, who squished the contents on top of the implant. The fluid filtered down into the pores and left a slight coating where the white ball was exposed.

Jackson hated to see any of his crew injured, especially something that would have permanent repercussions for the rest of their life. On the other hand, Chin would have something no other member of the Maria Mitchell crew could boast of: a bionic eye capable of detecting a wider range of light than the normal human eye. It would focus farther, closer, and faster than a natural eye, and could see with only a single candlepower of illumination.

He had considered if a bionic replacement, with the advantages, was a fair trade for a natural body part. If it was, why didn’t all humans have bionics? Fifty years ago, when he was a child, many parents had installed Neural Lace Networks into their children as a matter of routine. His mother, being a non-conformist, resisted. She always said that if they chose to have one, they could do it at age twenty, when they were legal adults.

Used for a couple of decades to repair brain tissues associated with neurodegenerative diseases, then for brain injuries, by the 22^nd century they were considered enhancements, a living, integrated bionic web that surrounded the brain. It came with a frequency, able to wirelessly connect to computers tuned on that frequency. That’s where the trouble all began.

“Is this eye going to interfere with daily life?” Jackson asked.

“Its camera can only interface with the optic nerve. That won’t be working for a couple weeks, as the nanites integrate and form new synapses.” Adams didn’t look up from his work. “I’m ready for the works,” he said to Mills.

“Captain, I feel responsible for the misfortune,” Quixote said.

“You weren’t even in the shop.”

“Mr. Chin is under my supervision.”

“It was a freak accident. It’s not your fault.” Jackson turned back to watch Adams work.

“Jack, how can you watch this?”

“You cleaned up all the blood. Now it’s like watching someone solder wires. And I can’t really see what you’re doing.”

“I can put up the visual if you like,” he said, glancing up at Jackson and then quickly back to his surgical field. Jackson knew when he was being teased and didn’t respond. “No?” Henderson and Mills shared a smile. The only person who got away with that was Adams, or assumingly, Rianya and Zalara.

Adams placed a micro-processor into the globe’s cylindrical cavity. A small bit of the Silver-gel oozed up to close the gaps. Mills handed him the artificial sclera that went around the brown-colored peg. A bio-mechanical compound, it would heal around and up against the micro-processor in a couple of days. With a fine laser he heated the edges, forming a pseudo-scab so the natural white of his eye would affix to the new artificial part.

“More Silver-gel, Roz.”

Adams released the clasps on Chin’s eyelids and placed at sterile cushion on top, followed by a hard, aluminum, pirate-style patch. Henderson removed the drapes, the strap went around Chin’s head, and everyone smiled. Mills began the clean-up; Henderson took Chin off the anesthesia. Together they rolled him out of surgery and into a recovery room.

Adams tossed his surgery garb into the laundry shoot with the drapes.

“How long?” Quixote asked.

“He’ll be awake in an hour. Bit of a headache. It takes a few days before we remove the patch, and then it’s up to the nanites to finish the job. At least a week before he can see with the bionic-eye, more like ten to twelve days.”

The three senior officers left the surgery room for the treatment area. The dimmer lights and somber mood softened the earlier tension level from when Chin was rushed in on a gurney. One half conscious and the other half hysterical, it wasn’t until he’d been sedated that Adams could assess the damage from a shattered, flying bit of a machine assembly.

“I’m buying if anyone wants a drink,” Jackson said.

“I’ll meet you two there; gotta change,” Adams said. Quixote followed Jackson down the corridor to the mess hall. Bypassing the dinner buffet, the two made their way back to the galley where Bailey kept special stashes for the captain.

“Captain, how is John?” she asked the moment they set foot in her kingdom.

“He’s going to be okay, everything went as expected.”

“But Adams couldn’t save the eye.”

“He saved parts of it, so it will look pretty good when it heals, and he’ll have bio-vision.”

 “At least that’s something,” she said.

“Adams said that eventually,” Quixote added, “the bionic eye will begin to dominate over his natural eye, and it will just serve to provide binocular perspective.” Jackson and Bailey both turned to look at their reptilian friend.

“That’s good to know,” Jackson said. He turned back to Bailey. “Macallan on ice, and…”

“Celery, kale, and seaweed.”

They took their drinks to Jackson’s table; Quixote flipped a chair around so his tail wouldn’t be crushed up against the back.

“How is Ms. Rianya?”

“She’s doing well. Better than I am.”

“You must be pleased to grow your family.”

“Of course,” Jackson said. “It’s getting more difficult to command the ship and care for them at the same time.”

“I’m happy to spend more time on the bridge.”

“Thanks, old friend, but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“How can I help?” Jackson closed his eyes, tipped his chin down and reached across the table, placing a hand on xe’s cool, reptilian arm.

“You just did.”

“Tom, what are you doing up?” Rianya tiptoed into the great room, carefully, to avoid bumping into anything in the dark. He looked up from a data reader and held out his arm to invite her closer. She sat close, but didn’t want to squish him with an extra 15 kilos.

“I can’t get to sleep.”

“What’re you reading?” She peered at the text. “Biology?”

“Tell me your definition of life. I want to know from your point of view.” She shook her head lightly.

“Hmph. That’s a very complex question. I suppose it is something that consumes energy, can initiate movement, and reproduce. A virus, a fungus, a person, a plant, they all meet that criteria.”

“Does it need DNA?”

“That’s tricky. A virus may only have RNA, can live on an inanimate surface, but it requires a host to reproduce. It doesn’t have its own metab’lism.”

“But it can reproduce. We can reproduce, but the baby needs a host,” he said, petting her belly. His hand was warm, like the rest of him.

“Why are you puzzling this in the dark of night?”

“Cerebrus.”

“I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of that. I just hate the way it looks at me sometimes. Like its eyes are drilling into my head.”

“Don’t worry. I took care of it.”

“Are you ready for sleepless nights again?”

“Zalara wasn’t very disruptive.”

“We weren’t on a star ship. We were in Waiso.”

“We’ll have more help this time.” She stood, padded into the kitchen zone, and put hot water in two cups.

“But you will be on the bridge, not at home.”

“Quixote is going to take my mornings.” Rianya grew a smile from cheek to cheek. A lightness bloomed around her heart.

“That will be wonderful. You deserve time off like the rest of the crew. Maybe more so.”

“No, but I didn’t turn it down.” She returned with the two cups, a tea basket floating in each. It had been ages since he’d asked her a question, remembered her education and experience as an animal shaman.

“I thought I’d get more chances to study life on the other planets. It’s not as easy as I thought it might be. Such long distances between stars, and so many are just dead worlds, like the diamond planet.”

“Coming down with the Plague didn’t help you.”

“No, or having to deal with the blue guys and green guys and then go to Novissimus. When are we going to Earth?”

“When we deliver the supplies to Tau Ceti D and then we go back to Novi, then to Earth.” She lowered her gaze to the cup of tea. “About four to five months.”

“I need to get off, Tom. I can’t take much more of this confinement. And I don’t mean the space station. The arboretum is beautiful but it’s not a real planet.”

“Tau Ceti D is beautiful. It’s clean, the people are friendly, they have a good transportation system, libraries, trees. Aliens live there, although in their own communities.”

“I get to go, don’t I?”

“Of course.” Her heart floated. Sky, clouds, grass, trees, birds, other people! She body-hugged Tom despite the small obstacle in the way. She got up with some difficulty and turned back to him.

“Come to bed.” She raised one brow and smiled. “There’s not a lot of time left.”

“I will be there in a minute.”

Tom watched her walk, with a trundling gait that told of her love for him. Her future, Zalara’s, and this new daughter’s future were in his hands.

He remembered Tau Ceti D when it was still a virgin world, no aliens, no electricity, just the people and their cottages, oxen, and innocence. And then the Pegasi came, and the Kiians came, and the Cetians traded the old for the new, an industrial age overnight without the maturity to handle it.

Only Quinaal had known it was an artificial wealth, the jobs, the money, aliens running the show. But with a happy population, few saw the underlying danger. But she had.