The Change is Yet to Come - Awakening
Story by Gruffy on SoFurry
Robert returns to this world, but what he finds out is nothing he expected. Scifi drama continues!
The Change is Yet to Come - Awakening
by
Gruffy
2017
This is a commission for :iconaaron-blackpaw: featuring some interesting content, if I say it for myself- it’s always a pleasure to tackle a hardcore scenario, and not just talking about sex here...you’ll see what I’m talking about. i shall look forward to your feedback, and remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
Cheers !
*
The man Robert knew to be called Rönning insisted on pointing his penlight on his eyes again. He squinted at the bright, intrusive light.
“Can you tell me where you are, Robert?”
He was sure that he had been asked that again, but it was hard to remember. Robert had the strange feeling of knowing things without recollection on how he had learned each particular fact.
“Hospital...I think,” he said.
Speaking still hurt. His lips felt numb, and dry.
“Yes, you are right,” the one called Rönning said.” You have been with us for quite some time now, Robert. Are you in any pain?”
“No,” Robert said.
Truth be told, he didn’t feel much at all. There was no hunger, no thirst, and no pain. He did feel tired, but that he could associate with being in a hospital room with very little to do.
Rönning smiled nervously.
“That is good to hear, Robert.”
“...I don’t remember being here,” he said.
Rönning almost dropped his penlight.
“That is to be expected,” he said. “You suffered severe head trauma in the accident, which led to you being in a comatose state for over a month. It will naturally take some time for the memory impairment to subside.”
“A month?” Robert asked. He had the unpleasant feeling that he had asked the same question before.
“I’m sure that it comes as a shock,” Rönning said. “But you are receiving the best treatment available. Your employer has made sure of that.”
“Mercer,” Robert said quickly.
Rönning nodded.
“That is right,” he said. “He has been very involved. He will be here later, I understand. He wants to see you.”
“Why?” Robert asked.
The man looked uncomfortable.
“He has been very concerned about you throughout your illness and recovery,” Rönning said. “He has repeatedly expressed how important you are for the company he represents.”
The words popped into Robert’s mind sluggishly.
“United...Bio...Mech….Mechanicals,” he recited.
His little stutter made the doctor frown. Robert saw him reach for his penlight again.
“No...more of that,” he said.
The man stopped with his hand in his coat pocket.
“You must not overexert yourself, Robert,” Rönning told him. “It is still very early days for you. This is the first day since the accident that you have been able to properly communicate with us.”
“I don’t remember...before,” Robert admitted.
“You were taken out of the medically induced therapeutic coma only a few days ago,” Rönning said, “since then you have been proceeding in your recovery quite well.”
“Why...why don’t I remember earlier? Being awake?”
“Prolonged unconsciousness can lead into memory problems,” Rönning replied,” there can be retrograde amnesia as well as anterograde, the inability to form new memories, for some time. The seriousness of your injury must have also contributed to the state. We hope that it will improve over time.”
“You...haven’t told...how bad…” Robert growled. “At least don’t remember…”
Rönning’s hand twisted visible in his coat pocket.
“It is very hard to give any certain assessment at this point when your recovery is only beginning.”
Robert did not like the sound of that answer.
“You don’t want to tell me,” he stated. “Why? I know it’s bad. I...I know anything that sends you in a...a...coma...it’s bad…”
He started to feel agitated. His cheeks glowed with the rush of blood to them. Trying to move still brought the same effect as before. Even his head wouldn’t budge from where it rested on a padded surface. He could only see ahead of him, and not look down enough to see his own body on the bed.
“Please try to calm down, Robert, you are still very weak and you must avoid any undue stress or strain,” Rönning said. He did not sound particularly alarmed, but tried to speak in a firm voice.
“I need to...to know…” Robert breathed out. “It...it has to be bad…”
An alarm went off. Rönning moved to attend to the noise and moved outside Robert’s narrow field of view.
“You have to calm down,” the doctor said, “you are experiencing too much stress. You may do harm to yourself. I have to start lowering your blood pressure or you may experience a cerebrovascular episode, Robert.”
“What’s wrong- - wrong with my brain?” he demanded.
“ - I see you are having a conversation here.”
The voice came from somewhere to Robert’s side.
“Mister Mercer!” said Rönning on the other side.
Mercer.
Robert might’ve been confused about a lot of things, but that name he knew for all it was worth.
“Mercer…” he whispered.
“Sir, he is agitated, we may have to sedate him again.”
“What is the reason of this?”
He came into a view. He was a cat of some stature, a cougar, Robert knew. His feline face was in complete contrast to the mild features of the doctor standing next to him soon. The cat looked like he had a constant frown on his whiskered, tan and grey face.
“Sir, I am not sure this is the best time - “
Mercer shrugged the doctor away and looked at Robert instead. He wasn’t smiling.
“Mister Foster,” the cougar said. “If the news I’ve been told are correct, you are back with us. Is that so?”
He looked expectant now. Robert tried to calm down before speaking to him. He wasn’t sure he was doing a good job on it.
“They won’t tell me what’s going on.”
The cougar sniffed.
“That sounds like Robert Foster to me,” he told to the doctor. Rönning looked uncomfortable still.
“You should keep your visit short, sir,” the doctor said. “He is still very ill and needs a lot of rest. Today has been very traumatic for him.”
The cougar sneered.
“Even more so than being thrown off a bridge?” Mercer stated.
“W-what?” said Robert.
“The police doesn’t know what happened, but your motorbike skid off the bridge on the highway and down sixty feet below...and you did as well, I suppose,” Mercer said. “So I’ve been told.”
Robert remembered the bike - it was a jumble, like most of his memories appeared to be, but he remembered its make and the noise its electric engine made, and the feeling of crouching over it and letting the air brush over him. He remembered endless miles of roads, but the memories were disjointed.
“My bike…” he said.
“Understandably that had some...adverse effects, of course,” Mercer continued in a conversational tone, “but the fine doctors here have been working to put you back together with only the best spare parts. UBM’s, of course, what else would you expect? You’ve invented half of the stuff they’ve been putting in and on you, after all. You know what we can do.”
Robert was finding it hard to comprehend that was being said. The cougar was speaking quickly and matter-of fact, sparing nothing.
“What...what…” he mumbled.
Mercer glared at Rönning.
“You haven’t told him?”
“You were quite adamant in your opinion that we should not, sir,” the doctor replied.
“W-why…” Robert asked.
The cougar’s ears perked up at the question.
“I thought it would be easier to hear it coming from a familiar face, Foster,” the cat said. “Or at least with me here to support you. I imagine there is a bunch to cover. Rönning?”
“I am not sure how to proceed about it, sir,” the doctor said meekly.
“Show the latest full body scan,” Mercer said. “The one you used for briefing me about the upcoming rehabilitation.”
Rönning nodded.
“Alright.”
He disappeared to the side for a moment. The lights dimmed down before a lit panel descended from the ceiling, within Robert’s field of vision.
“I have to warn you, mister Foster, that this is...rather intense.”
“I need to know…”
The display panel showed the outline of a person, although in many wild colors. Their significance was not apparent to Robert, who watched carefully. The display itself was transparent, and Rönning stepped behind it. Touching it let him to zoom in on the head. It grew to about natural size.
“You are unable to move your head because you are still kept in halo traction with the help of eight titanium pins attached to your skull,” Rönning indicated the points on the screen, “this is due to the fracture of the C3 vertebrae on your neck. The impact shattered the transversal process and caused a near complete severing of the spinal cord at that point. Maximum therapy was unable to restore full spinal nerve connections, and the severe bleeding made it even more difficult to control the situation.”
Robert didn’t have to be told what that meant.
“...from the...neck down…” he said.
“Just let him speak,” Mercer intervened. “You’ll see.”
“We have rebuilt the vertebra using biocement and secured the spinal cord with flexible titanium cords. We hope to restore full patency of the cervical spine in due time.”
“...but no cord function...unless…”
Rönning’s fingers enlarged the reddish spot that was Robert’s mauled neck.
“We have installed a UBM spinal bridge here,” he said, “the REPM series bridge interfaces with a state of the art system of microfilament tracts we have imbedded into the cervical spine, the cerebellum and the cerebral cortex. We hope that with due rehabilitation, and the use of neuroplastic factors to help us, you will regain limb function.”
“...I...don’t have to hear,” he said. “I...helped design that.”
Mercer chuckled.
“You hear what he said,” he said. “Don’t need to go on the details. He knows what you’ve been doing there.”
“...is it...already breathing for me?” Robert asked.
“We are using something a bit less sophisticated for that,” Rönning said. “Phrenic nerve stimulation activates both the diaphragm and the intercostal muscles. A pulse generator has been implanted into your right chest to produce the signals. It has an associated sensor cluster attached to the superior vena cava to monitor the blood carbon dioxide level and hence to regulate the respiratory rate as required by the physiological needs.”
“I don’t feel my chest rising,” Robert said.
“Most of the bridge is still offline,” Rönning said. “We thought it was for the best, to prevent any undue movements that might risk the neck immobilization.”
“I...know how it works,” Robert said. “But coma...not just for keeping me still…more...”
“No,” Mercer said. “Show him, Rönning.”
The doctor’s fingers moved the image upwards, to show the colored outline of Robert’s head.
“Depressed fracture to the parietal bone and a fracture of the temporal bone and the sphenoid bone were among the cranial injuries suffered. Direct impact forces caused subdural bleeding, a contusion, and diffuse axonal damage. This led into severe brain injury and edema, for which decompressive craniotomy had to be performed. The left parietal bone has been replaced by a bio-polymer implant printed to match the geometry of the original bone structure. It will be functionally and cosmetically feasible, we believe.”
Robert felt a sudden urge to feel up his head. He imagined all his hair gone and replaced by jagged scars and milky plastic where skin and hair used to be. Flesh had become...something else, beyond nature. The making of a brilliant mind, just like the one contained now in a structure that had grown partially artificial.
“Hard to remember,” Robert said.
“Confusion after the prolonged state of unconsciousness is very common and will hopefully subside eventually,” Rönning said. “The long-term outcome is impossible to predict at this point but we hope that cognitive deficits will be minimal, at least relatively to the extent of the injury. Maximum neuro-preservative therapy was initiated less than half an hour since the accident. We are hopeful that extensive damage was prevented.”
“You will be back up and running in no time, I’m sure!” Mercer interjected.
Robert wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe his boss.It felt like hard work to remember anything at the moment. Besides, the cougar’s mention of running gave him another thought.
“Legs...legs…” he repeated.
“Hmmm…” Rönning vocalized.
“Will...the bridge...how much mobility?” Robert asked.
Rönning suddenly cleared his throat. Mercer sneered. The cat’s ears folded unhappily.
“There is no smoothing that over, Rönning,” the cougar said. “You better just tell him.”
The doctor looked uncomfortable. The cat kept glaring at him, though he did not say anything.
“What is it?” Robert couldn’t keep quiet. “You...what’s wrong? Is there too much nerve damage? My spine…”
“You must understand that the injury was very severe, mister Foster,” said Rönning. “The multiple fractures alone, and the vascular injuries…”
“Just show the picture,” Mercer was impatient. “You have the photos there too. Just show the picture.”
To Robert it sounded like the truth was too horrible to put into words. The doctor’s hands were twisting awkwardly against his hips while he contemplated his choices. Mercer’s face grew more and more cross.
“For fuck’s sake!” he hissed. His composure was nearing meltdown point. “Show him or I will!”
Rönning’s hands were clammy when he moved behind the panel and tapped on the control icons.
“Ischemia and widespread destruction of muscle and bone tissue forced the amputation of both lower limbs and...and the reconstruction of the pelvis and the femur on both sides, with the addition of biophysical augmented prosthetics.”
Another touch on the controls brought on the picture.
Robert could do nothing but stare at it in shock when it was finally upon his eyes. It was apparently a photo of someone’s lower body - his own - and showed pale skin with large, red, healing scars covering both hips. Below his groin, what used to be skin and bone was now black, a matte tone for the components of the new artificial limbs that replaced his own lost legs. The feet at the ends of them were not really feet, but paws - he could tell. Robert had seen many of the models, on patients, even on the robotic rigs where they were tested by having the artificial limbs do endless walking motions while suspended in mid-air, to monitor the function of the fantastically complex devices. He wasn’t looking at a demonstration now, or an inspirational survival story of the sort that sold these legs to the paying customers.
“...we believe that functionality will be...will be restored…” Rönning mumbled.
The picture became the scan again, though this time showing Robert’s lower body in the false colors. The elements of the prosthetics glowed green, extending from his hips all the way to his new biomechanical toes.
“...the...the biofilm coating of the prosthetic elements has been taking very well…” Rönning spoke nervously, “I understand you have designed it…m-mister Foster…”
“And now that you are awake, we can start on getting your brain into believing that they are your legs, and you can get back on running around on your brand new paws,” Mercer said. He sounded almost cheerful. “The doc here assures me that the motor control tracts are grafting well. Your cerebellum will not know the difference.”
Robert couldn’t believe the boasting tone coming from his boss. The doctor standing next to the cougar looked more like how Robert felt - nervous and clammy.
“Paws,” was the only word that came out of Robert’s mouth.
“Why would you want to have anything else?” Mercer almost laughed.
“The...the prosthetics will provide maximum stability during rehabilitation,” Rönning said. “We hope to start therapy as soon as possible.”
The words stopped meaning much for Robert. His mind was rapidly slipping into a place where the only thing that mattered was the question of why. Why had all this happened to him? Who had allowed it to happen?
He didn’t even wonder what was going to become of him. He could handle that. He was still alive. But the heavy question of why...that he needed to have answered, or there would be no point in living anymore.
*
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