Adjustments

Suddenly Dek’s eyes flew open to true reality and he jerked up, his heart racing madly, gasping for breath. A blinding light shone in his eyes. Hands pushed him back. He heard voices calling to each other and the frantic beeping of a machine. He was in the hospital, he realized, and he looked around wildly, trying to see through eyes that ached with light. People were around him. The light was from the florescent lights in the room. He was cold, the blanket over him had slipped to his waist.

The people had pushed him back, where he lay trembling and twitching, trying to make sense of what his senses told him was real. He shivered and his arms clutched across his chest protectively. He’d never felt so exposed and disoriented in his life.

“Concentrate on breathing regularly,” Jasper was saying. “You’re safe now.” Jasper was still there. He wasn’t part of the dream; he was real? Dek tried to do what he was told and realized he was hyperventilating. He could hear the people talking and as his concentrated on his breathing, their words began to mean something.

“….read his pulse,” a man said. “Should we use the steroid injection?”

“No!” Dek shouted suddenly. He hated needles. Someone put their hand on his shoulder.

“I think he’s going to be fine, just give him a moment.” This man had a deep voice that made Dek think of warm chocolate. “It’s not easy to be unconscious for a week straight and roll out of bed like nothing happened.” Dek’s shoulder was patted.

“Give him another blanket,” someone else said and Dek saw one of them move away. His eyes still panged with light-pain.

“Let’s start the checklist,” the first man said. The people started asking questions Dek didn’t understand, answering with words like ‘normal’ or ‘verified’ or just some data number that could mean anything. Dek wondered if any of the people had been the voice in his head. It had sounded like a younger person, he thought to himself. At least, younger than any of them seemed.

“I’m still here,” the voice in his head told him, as if reading his mind. “I’m giving them your status.”

“Who are you?” Dek asked silently, as if talking to himself.

“I’m a Sensor. Another agent. Do you remember anything about the procedure you just went through?”

“A Sensor? Wait, I’ve heard that before.”

“An agent trained in crime sequencing. By the way, congratulations. You’re an official Agent now.”

“A Special Agent,” Dek said, remembering slowly. “They put a vector chip in while I was under.”

“They put it in with the anesthesia. You had to go deep if they wanted to put in the amount of plating they did.” The pain in Dek’s eyes was easing off. He watched as a female doctor lay a warmed blanket over him and gave him a smile. One of the doctors held a small red light and pointed it in his eyes, first one then the other.

“What color do you see?” he was asked.

“Red.”

“Now?”

“Green.”

“Now?”

“Blue.”

The doctor left him alone. Two had gone over to a thin-screen chart nearby and were entering information there.

“Where are you?” Dek asked the Voice.

“You’re never supposed to know,” was the answer. “I’m your Missions Leader. We work together on missions, you, me, and Copper, but chances are you two won’t ever see me in person.” This was something Dek remembered now. He remembered because he’d thought it sounded crazy. They had to do whatever some guy they’d never met said. How was he supposed to know what was going on? Then he remembered something they’d told him in the debriefing before surgery: the other Specials Squads worked together in person. One or two Specials and a Sensor formed a squad. He and Copper had been told that their leader was a veteran, someone special. They hadn’t given them many details, but it seemed obvious to Dek, that whoever it was they were getting as a Missions Leader was someone so important, or else so talented, that he didn’t need to work on foot with them. Now he suddenly thought of something else.

“You’re a computer,” he told the voice.

“No,” came the answer. “Once you’re back on your feet I’ll help you figure out how to use your chips. For now you’ll have satisfy yourself with this: I’m a human, I’m male, and I’m not some couch potato.”

“Are you on base?” Dek tried.

“Sharp question. I’m in Hong Kong right now, working on the next mission for a Dipper in Shanghai.”

The thought made Dek’s head spin. He was speaking mind to mind with a guy on the other side of the planet. And the doctors in the room had no idea what was going on. He glanced at the thin-screen two were gesturing at as they spoke. He was trying to remember what a Dipper was when one of the Doctors asked him to sit up.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. The woman doctor was looking on.

Dek looked at him a moment, trying to figure out how to answer. Finally he said, “Disoriented.” They smiled at that and told him to give it some time. Then they began a physical examination, asking him to move this or that limb, to close his eyes and touch his fingers together; any number of other strange tests. Their strangeness helped him remember more and more what had happened before he’d gone into surgery. These same tests had been done. His trainer had been there, observing and answering whatever the doctors wanted to know.

His memory stretched back further, to when he, Copper, and the Commander had met with the team of doctors, his trainer, and a number of other staff witnesses. The two brothers had been interviewed and selected to receive Specials. They had been trained as full ranking Cy agents, adding to the small youth branch of the CIA. It wasn’t exactly clear who was in charge of Cy, but they understood it had something to do with the United States Government, the CIA, the UN, and a handful of super rich sponsors.

A Dipper, he remembered, was an agent who usually worked alone, helping political and key prisoners escape. They had stopped more than one person from starting WWIII while no one was looking.

Sensors worked with both Dippers and Specials, their job being to gather information and organize Missions. Sensors trained two years longer than most agents. So Jasper, his Missions Leader, must be quite a bit older than them. The more Dek thought about him, the more curious he became.

Someone was standing in the doorway. Dek felt washed with relief. Copper stared back at him. It was a familiar scene, one that had happened a few weeks before. Copper had undergone the surgery first, making Dek fret for a full week. He’d woken up and Dek had been there from the first moment they allowed him in the room.

One of the doctors saw Copper and waved him in.

“Your brother is doing fine,” they told him. “He may even be released tomorrow. We need to observe him for a night.”

Copper nodded. Dek thought he looked different somehow. Copper came over and stood beside him in a place the doctor had just vacated. Dek waited for him to say something.

“You’re skinny,” Copper said.

Dek laughed out loud, feeling more relieved. “Is that all you have to say?” he asked.

Copper lowered his eyes, hiding a impudent grin. “You’re going to hate me,” he said. “When you find out how they forced me to spend the week.”

Dek raised an eyebrow. Copper didn’t say anything to him aloud, but Dek an image appeared in his brain of a sleek car zipping through a test course. He stared incredulously at his 15 year old brother. “You got to drive that?”

“Yeh,” Copper admitted. He straightened suddenly, as if realizing suddenly he might have angered Dek. “But wait till you see what they have for you!”

Dek expected another picture to appear in his mind but nothing happened. He studied Copper’s face before him. “You sent me an image?”

Copper shrugged. “Jasper will explain how to use the I chip. Once you figure that out, the rest is easy.”

“Easy,” Dek shook his head. When had anything ever been easy?