Page 96 of Alliance
That's when I realized myinsideswere currentlyoutside.
I lifted my head to look down at my body, and the hairs stood up on my neck, eyes as wide as plates. They still had me open, most of my body covered by a sheet with a fitted rectangular opening that clung to the seams in my casing, currently open in full. A plastic seal with a suctioned opening for a surgical arm lifted the plastic in an odd, slightly nauseating way.
"Dios mio..."
Roav raised a brow. "Does seeing your interior bother you?"
I plunked my head back down on the table and closed my eyes, swallowing on a tight throat. A mist of sweat peppered my skin as I nodded.
"I'll get the curtain," Dr Zarabi said, rushing from the room.
"Interesting," the man in the corner remarked. "An entirely biological response."
"What did you expect?" Roav snapped.
"I expected to be right. But it seems I was wrong." Heavy boots walked towards the table, and my eyes popped open, hoping for anything to distract me. The other biognostic loomed over me, then his heavy, warm palm fell on my forehead. His central lens, the one on a track, lit up directly in front of my neck. "Go ahead and look. See? You're alright."
I didn't dare at first, but his big palm brushed through my curls with fatherly care. I thought of Rosy's papi, took a deep breath, and looked down the length of my body. I was clothed in a care gown without a scratch. My brain immediately bought into the illusion, the nauseated knot in my chest relaxing.
"Thank you," I breathed, internalizing the image, scoring away the one of my open body pulsing from blood flow, steaming the plastic.
"Were you aware that your parumauxi are replacing your components with biological tissues?" he asked, keeping the illusion intact, just in case.
"Yes." My brow creased. "Why are they doing that?"
"The swarm follows the will of its host," he said. Roav watched him in silence, something heady crossing his inhuman facets. "My partner has overridden your swarm's priorities for now. If you wish for it to continue, you will need regular medical intervention. The clinic will suggest you remove part of your swarm to grow more targeted organs outside of your unit, rather than grafting the components you currently have. It would make medical care more predictable for you."
I swallowed hard. "I have that sort of option?"
"Yes," Dr Zarabi interjected. He floated a leviscreen in front of me, and the other biognostic removed his illusion, stepping away. "You don't need to choose now, but soon. Otherwise, they'll overharvest your stem cells. You don't have many to begin with, and what's left you should preserve for red blood cell production. Otherwise, you'll become ill. Anemia, weakness, wasting, lethargy..."
I nodded. I wanted to say yes right away but stopped myself. I didn't understand who I was quite yet, but I was where I needed to be to feel the freedom to find out. "I'll think about it."
My body jolted and whirred as Roav worked on me. Wires fell to the floor. Dr Zarabi removed the plastic encasing me and the surgical arm, crumpling it up and tossing it into a biohazard receptacle. They helped me sit just as a crackling yip crescendoed into a howl outside. All four of us looked towards the lobby down the hallway.
"Sounds like yourthuaisis getting impatient." Dr Zarabi smirked knowingly. "Come. Let's not keep him waiting."
They had to wrestle a care gown on me like a rambunctious toddler before I rushed down the hall barefoot and out into the sun with a breathless smile.
36
Fásach paced in front of the clinic like he had been for days. He could smell Roz inside, mixed with astringent scents like ammonia and iodine. The slight burn of ultraviolet light made his nostrils itch like he was sucking in ozone.
He started to pant.
"She's fine, man. You can see the updates for yourself," Vin tried again, sitting on the ramp in front of the door with a squint against the sun. His mandibles vibrated with agitation, having had to push Fás back several times.
"But I can't seeher,"he snapped, tresses whipping. They were in a long spray down his back from the shower Vin had shoved him under two days ago, saying he smelled like a mustyurundilis.Safia and Misila had pulled the knotted braids apart while he whined, not wanting to remove them, but subdued by their little talons.
Because what if they were the last—
No.He huffed air.
Then he charged Vin for the tenth time. It was a dance they'd both gotten used to, knowing that Fásach needed an outlet for the anxiety. Violence coursed through his hackles like lightning as he made a swipe at Vin's chest, slicing open his shirt.
"That's thethirdtime you've done that! Man, Imani's gonna kill me. These are her favorites."
"So get better at countering!" Fásach snarled.
