literature

To Fly 19

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Literature Text

Bar 19
In which two more eccentric personals take the stage.
The first thing that happened when I got to work was being sent to the medical wing to deal with specialized cases that happen so often to Preventers. The reason given to me for this was to fully map my emerging abilities and to make sure there were no defects due to incompatibility.
This specific wing was only for case inside the wall.  The patients there, well, scared me.  There was the guy entirely covered with eyes, another whose head was disconnected and floating with his body following.  He claimed to be a doctor but it was obvious he was wearing a patients gown.  There was a half-man, half-rhino, who claimed to have gotten stuck in the middle of a transformation.  I spent most of my time trying to ignore everybody else.
The next several days were spent with doctors and tests.  From what I can tell, I was considered a very interesting case, thus they were in no hurry to let up on the tests according to my sadistic doctor with a cane.
Finally the doctors gave me a debriefing.
“I must say, you are in much better shape then I expected for a hack-slash  operation done by some semi-trained medic.  From what was given in her report, there was more energy from the graft than your partner expected.  A good example would be using a chainsaw to open a can.  It could have quickly destroyed you if it was simply left without control.  Thus, she had to channel it to anywhere available, which was why the changes were so extensive.”
“That’s why,” I gestured around at the wings, which were once again knocking stuff off the wall, “this happened?”
“The longer exposure there is to the graft, the more the graft changes the recipient to mach the graftee.  The wings were because at the former used wings, super-strength is the changed muscle. Etc. Etc., I’m sure you’ve gotten the point already.”
I looked at my arms.  They seemed normal.
“Of course they do,” the doctor remarked when he watched me “A shape changer relies more on magic then any proper biology.  Makes them messy to desiccate.   If it wasn’t a shape changer, you wouldn’t even look human at this point.  Going back to the previous topic, the changes have included a changed metabolism, which gives you regeneration, but better make sure to eat enough to keep up with it.  FYI, the respiratory system has been converted to be amphibious, in case you every felt like drowning yourself. I know I would if I looked like you.  There was some ambiguous magic floating around, from the pearl, Foreman thinks.  It seems connected to the wings, so probably it’s the flight mechanism, since the pearl is responsible for flight in Chinese dragon.  Do understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.  That I’m a freak that defies the laws of biology.”
“That might be a little harsh or not. I’m not really sure.  However, you are going to be the next subject of my case study.”
“Don’t I get a say so?”
“Not really. I don’t care if you want it or not.”
When I got back to my desk, I noticed a memo from the powers-to-be.  I was to be transferred to one of the units.  Units were semi-formal arrangements of about four people, still in the trial stage here at the Preventers.   The cons of such a move would be having to deal with people, not my strong point.  The pros were that it paid more.  But why did the powers-that-be decide to move me?  I noticed as I read, it drew mention to my “changed status.”  It sounded like they didn’t trust me on my own after all that had happened, and thought that having three other people to keep an eye on me, and stop me in case I decided to go postal.  I guess they thought that the only thing worst than rebellious Gundam pilot, was a rebellious Gundam pilot with super powers.  My only intention was going to do my job, and may the gods help anyone who gets in my way.
I was organizing my desk, when the first member of the unit arrived.
“Top o the morning to you, Laddie,” said a familiar thick accent in a silly tone. “Funny to see you again.”
“It’s hilarious, Miss Morgan” I remarked dryly.
“So, you are my new partners in crime?”  The speaker had the face of a young, African lady, her twists decorated with colorful beads.  But her face was metallic and her twists were made up of plastic wire.  Beyond her face her body was vaguely hominid. I could see blinking sensors, ports, and wires in her painted black body, beneath her unzipped jacket.  
I was surprised by her voice, as I had expected something harsh and robotic from her appearance.  Instead, her rich tones and New Orleans accent conjured scenes of shadowy nightclubs with a jazzy saxophone being played in the background.
“I am Josephine Baker, Jess for short and I am charmed to meet you, Wufei, and to see you again, Miss Morgan,” her smile dazzled as she shook our hands. “I’m the local computer whiz and grease monkey.  “I’m cyborg.  Yes, everything is artificial except the brain.”  
I wondered if she was a victim of the “Robotic plague,” as had been nicknamed.  It caused the wasting away of limbs and organs.  Usually it was limited to only a few select organs and/or limbs. It was named the robotic virus due to the appearance of the artificial limbs. It had been released in New Orleans.  I had never seen such an extreme case before.   
  First New Dublin, now my new co-worker was a cyborg?  What insanity could be next?  Indians and cowboys?  
"And let us not forget, this is Hania Ashes. Ph.D.  Don’t worry, he’s always this shy." Jess stepped to the side and gave Hania a push forward.  
I got a clear look at the person standing behind Jess.  His long bluish-black hair was in twin braids.  That, along with the brown skin and high cheekbones, made his ethnicity apparent.  I really must stop tempting fate.  I took another look, noting his delicate features and long eyelashes which were somewhat sensuous in an otherwise bookish exterior.
If there is a cowboy after this I’m quitting.
"Hello," he said, in a heavy southwestern accent. He looked around the room with sporadic, hyperviligente jumps. “I guess I’m what you’re call a medium.”
Miss Morgan noticed my blank look and filled me in.  “They’re the ones that deal with dead people, like the ghosts on the train.  I’ve worked him before. We first met in New Orleans.”
“That’s not strictly true.  Not everyone I deal with is dead,” Hania replied, slightly embarrassed.
Miss Morgan and I introduced ourselves, but were cut off by a sharp “Attention!”  I turned to see a Latino woman with a stern appearance and cropped off hair.  Her accent reminded me of Bolivia.  She moved with feline, disciplined movements.  
Her shadow was that of a large, predatory cat, not a human.   What was she? Was she likely to kill me? This last question was because she was looking at us as if she was wondering how to remove our heads.  Whatever she was, she was one of the powers-that-be, judging from her badge.
“I am Cornelia Soldado. For those who do not know.  You can call me by my first name. Respectfully.”  That made sense, giving the fact that the Soldados were  the largest mercenary group in Latin America. The people who joined took the groups name as their last name. They made up much of the powers-that-be due to the fact that they carried less baggage then the more politcalized groups.  Also, there about fourteen Soldados that I knew of and probably a lot more in the Preventers.  Many of them went by a first name just to cut down on confusion.   “You will report to me.”  She gestured over to a desk near ours “That’s Miss Fortunato’s, who is around here somewhere.”  
As if on cue, another person popped from around the corner and tackled Hania.
“Hi Lucy,” Hania said nonchalantly, while picking himself up.  She appeared to be of undetermined Mediterranean descent.  She was cute, like a puppy, especially with her corkscrew curls, though the surplus of bows was a bit overwhelming.  
“Lucy. . .”  Cornelia warned.
“Sorry, I was late, won’t happen again, Mistress of Pain.  Oh, look at all these new people.”  She started eyeing my wings and her hand began to reach out.
“Don’t,” I growled.
   “She handles the paperwork.  She also works as a mob informant.”
The Mob!?  I started looking for cowboys around the room.
   “And now that we have these introductions finished, it’s time for your briefing.”
And finally the two other main characters have bothered th shown up.
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