The next time he opened his eyes, the pain was far more significant than the last time. It was as if his whole body was on fire. His breathing was labored, and his heart drummed in his chest in protest of all the pain he was experiencing.
Doctor number one was standing next to him. “Ah, Jarcor, how are you feeling?”
“What the hell happened? I feel worse than last time I saw you,” he grunted through gritted teeth.
“I guess the Nanocybots are working on you. They’re probably trying to get you fixed as fast as possible. We’ve kept you in an induced coma so far, but we needed to know how you were feeling,” the man explained. The way he looked at Jarcor made him feel as if he was some sort of lab rat.
“As if my whole body is on fire, that’s how I’m feeling,” he moaned.
“They are working on your legs, Captain. As you can imagine, that is certain to involve some amount of pain.”
Jarcor held back on his desire to show the man just how that bit of pain felt.
“We have been working on you for two weeks now, but you won’t feel the difference until you’re completely healed. The good thing is, we are having great results with you.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he snarled, as the pain got worse.
“Well, I’ll let you get some more rest. Be well, Jarcor.”
When Jarcor next woke up, he was feeling much better. His whole body felt sore, but the excruciating pain was gone. He was still lying in a hospital bed, staring at the white ceiling, but he was definitely feeling much better.
At first, he felt confused, with the amount of information rushing through his mind, in a dizzying turmoil. It took him a few minutes to get control over it.
The world felt strange. His sight was a lot more accurate and he could hear a couple of women talking in a room nearby. Pulling the covers off his body, he looked at himself.
His legs looked as new. There were a few scars here and there, but other than that, they looked perfect, making him wonder how long he had been unconscious. Slowly, he tried to move his legs, and amazingly, he was able to. There was no pain, no restraint; his legs felt and looked as if they were good as new. Determined to test them, he got up, pulling the IV’s connected to his arm.
At first, he felt dizzy and the room spun around him at light speed for a few minutes before he was able to focus and clear his head. He walked around the room, trying his legs, crouching and kicking the air. They were perfect.
He was trying some martial arts kicks when the door was opened, and a startled nurse entered. “Hey, what are you doing? You aren’t supposed to be out of bed,” she cried out, running to meet him.
He stopped her, raising his hand. “I’m fine. I haven't felt this good in a long time,” he assured her. “Where’s the doctor? I want to talk to him.”
“I’ll go get him.” She turned around and left the room.
Jarcor chuckled and walked towards the window. It was around midday, the sun shining.
“Jarcor, you shouldn’t be out of bed,” doctor number one said, as he entered the room.
“Doctor. I don’t think I heard your name,” he replied, ignoring the doctor’s words.
“I’m Dr. Masterson. It’s too soon for you to be out of bed,” the man answered, with a deep frown.
Jarcor only listened to his name. Immediately, a lot of information filled in his mind about the man. His full name, his curriculum vitae, his family members and a lot more. He had no idea where it came from and he was confident he hadn't met the man before.
Something was wrong. “I’m fine,” he cut the man with a cold tone. “Would you care to tell me what exactly you did to me, while I was out?”
The man cleared his throat, distinctly uncomfortable. “Your legs are fully recovered, as you can see─”
“I’m not talking about my legs and you know that,” he pointed out, in a stern tone.
“When we realized the Nanocybots were working perfectly on your body, healing your wounds and recovering your bones with their special metal alloy, we decided to take the next step forward and add a few intelligence chips to your brain. We figured the Nanocybots would quickly integrate them into your brain, as they do on the cyborgs we create on our labs,” he explained.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to play games with my brain,” he said, trying to keep his anger at bay.
“The papers you signed gave us permission to do whatever we saw fit to restore your body, and that’s exactly what we did,” the man retorted, in a firm tone, as if reciting a rehearsed speech.
“We both know I wasn’t able to read those papers. I was in too much pain to even try.”
The man shrugged. “That’s irrelevant,” he dismissed his complaints. “Right now, all I want to know is how you feel? How are your senses working?”
For a moment, Jarcor considered not answering the man’s questions but it was a pointless battle. He had to act carefully around those people, at least, until he knew how much they had changed him and how that affected him.