WORD COUNT:Â 1.3k // SUMMARY: In which Olivia wakes up. // ERA: Predebut
In her current situation, it was all she could do. Oh, she could speak, and swallow, and swivel her eyes about behind her bandages to no end, but her arms and legs were limp and lifeless, as weak as an infant's. When sheâd first became aware of her situation, there hadnât been any feeling at all in them, and panic had flared in her chest, hot and stifling, before sheâd realized that she wasnât actually paralyzed.
Her actuators, though, were infallible. They were made of metal, unlike her weak, fleshy limbs, and they could keep moving when her legs gave out underneath her, or when her arms grew too sore to lift. She could see through them, through the cameras mounted on their ends, and through them she could see that she was in a hospital, with a man - Japanese? - watching over her. His pulse had spiked. He's scared.
Her actuators crept over the floor towards her, sliding into her bed, handling her bandaged form with care. They manoeuvred by touch, nosing up her back, until they uncovered a knot of scar tissue at the base of her neck. They left it untouched.
When the microwires re-interfaced with her spine, it felt like coming home.
Who needs weak, badly-designed eyeballs when you could have high-definition, high-quality cameras?
"Mirror," Olivia rasped, and the Japanese man pointed to her right. Her actuators turned to look, and there was a door. Slowly, careful-as-you-please, the harness crackled over her stiff, sore hips, gliding over the gauze, and slotted into place, supporting her spine. The pressure was familiar, applied evenly from her hips all the way up to her ribs (since when could I feel my ribs?), and as her actuators lifted her out of bed and into the bathroom, she saw herself, suspended a foot above the ground, hanging limply from her actuators. She couldn't see a single square inch of skin that was uncovered, apart from around her mouth.
One of her actuators unsheathed a blade (oh, it's dull; I'll have to replace it). The bandages had been applied deliberately and carefully, to apply pressure to her whole head, and as they fell away, Olivia realized just how constricted she'd been.
That realization, however, paled in comparison to her new face.
She had cheekbones, now, and her eyes were larger. Her double chin had vanished, and the spray of acne that had been the blight of her high school years (among other things) seemed to have been wiped from existence. She was bald, though, and her eyes -
"Fuck," Olivia hissed, and squeezed them shut.
"Your eyes haven't been exposed to light in months," a woman said, dryly, from behind her, and one of her actuators spun around. "Take it slow."
"Call me Natsuko," said the woman, who seemed to be as old as Olivia herself. "Itâs nice to meet you in person, Ms Choi."
The hospital in which she had been warded was located on the outskirts of a Japanese city, one of the smaller ones. Theyâd told her the name of the city, but Olivia hadnât bothered to devote any effort to retaining it. She wasnât sure, but it seemed as though she was the only patient there.
âWe use it to house injured personnel,â Natsuko told her, glancing up from her phone to answer her question, and Olivia nodded absently, sunglasses perched on the bridge of her unfamiliar nose.
Her eyes were still adjusting, as was the rest of her. The doctors said that it was good that she hadnât tried to walk immediately upon waking up, because her legs wouldnât have been able to support her weight. They were putting her through a physiotherapy programme in the desolate, hastily-retrofitted underground basement, and it was this programme that she was currently enduring, arms quivering as the treadmill beeped and the electrodes plastered to her scalp fizzled.
âIâm getting stir-crazy,â she said, between abortive, heaving pants, and Natsuko nodded sympathetically.
âThatâs understandable. Honestly, if you werenât getting a little cooped-up, Iâd have been worried.â She leaned against one of the handrails. âIâll talk to the doctors. We should be able to let you go out on a few⊠eh⊠night-time excursions.â
Natsuko shifted. âIâve been meaning to ask you about something else, actually,â she began, carefully, and took Oliviaâs grunt as permission to continue. âNow, as we understand, thereâs a lot of people who are currently searching for you, yes?â
Olivia nodded. Her legs were sore, but she couldnât find it in herself to be tired of how they pumped and glided beneath her. Theyâd made her so tall.
âHave you ever heard of the phrase hiding in plain sight?â
âYou see, thereâs this little project of mine,â Natsuko muttered, leaning in, and Olivia, intrigued, listened. âImagine, if you will, being adored by millions. Youâd be called upon to film commercials, or to model. You certainly have the looks for it, after all.â
It was a novel concept, to be sure. Olivia had never been adored before. There was a boy in high school who had asked her to meet him behind the bleachers, like in the movies, but that had just been the set-up to a particularly cruel prank. Apart from himâŠ
âBlouses and skirts,â Natsuko enthused. âLipstick and mascara. Thereâd be a full complement of staff whose job it would be to make sure that your every need is met.â
Olivia had never been one for blouses and skirts. Sheâd always preferred hoodies and sweatpants, baggy clothes that concealed her pudgy figure and allowed her to fade into the background. Now, thoughâŠ
âThink of it as⊠oh⊠making up for lost time.â
Olivia squinted. âWhat?â
Natsuko blinked. âWhat?â
âWhat's making up for lost time supposed to mean?â
âJust a turn of phrase.â
âHmph,â Olivia grunted. The treadmill was finally slowing down, after an interminable period of time, and she called her actuators to her as it ground to a halt. âAnd if I say no?â
âWell, according to the terms of our prior agreement, youâll remain in our employ for a decade or so, producing technology to our specifications.â
Inwardly, Olivia winced. Sheâd been desperate, exhausted and shaken when sheâd signed that contract, all those months ago. (How long has it been? A year? More?) Theyâd placed it in front of her, and sheâd signed it without a second thought. âA decade?â she repeated, numbly.
âA decade,â Natsuko confirmed, and as her actuators tramped past the shorter woman, Olivia wondered if it would be wiser to flee in the night and try to make it to China on her own. She discarded the idea almost immediately, of course. âPerhaps more. Iâd have to check, of course.â
âCanât I renegotiate?â Olivia tried, attempting to hide the sinking feeling in her stomach.
âNo.â Natsuko looked as though she might smile, just to rub it in, but her expression didnât change. As Oliviaâs harness tightened over her waist and lifted her off the treadmill, her head tilted upwards to continue looking at her. âBesides, weâve already delivered on our end of the bargain. Weâve shielded you from your pursuers for the past few months, and weâve made you unrecognizable. Weâll continue to protect you from them for as long as the contract stipulates.â
Which is more than a decade. What if they come and get me after my time is up?
âAnd I suppose that if I go along with this enterprise, youâll reduce myâŠâ Olivia searched for the phrase, â⊠term of service?â
âWeâll reduce it to five years, but weâll keep in touch with you for as long as we need to. Just to make sure that you havenât been brought in or captured, of course.â
That makes it easier to decide.
âIâll think about it,â Olivia said.
âPlease do,â Natsuko answered, smiling thinly, and left.
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
kaledo-art
2087
turnnoffyourmind
