Anaz-Voohri (24 page)

Zack snorted. “I gave up my dreams the day I woke up paralyzed.”

“When are you going to shake that self-defeating state of mind?" Carrick sighed. “You need to think outside the box. Don’t be satisfied with a diminished existence, fight it!”

Zack wheeled his electric chair around the desk to face Carrick. “Damn you. Will you stop this? You know there is nothing for me out there!"

“That’s where you are wrong." Carrick sat on the corner of Zack’s desk and his cold blue gaze softened. “Have you checked all the options? I know a hospital, right here in New York, called the CEM, the Center for Evolutionary Medicine. There is a certain Doctor Devertas in that place, who performs miracles every single day.”

“Or so they claim." Zack didn’t want to hope, it hurt too much when hopes got crushed.

“Were you always such a skeptic? I know for a fact that they use experimental techniques, at your own risk, of course, and it’s expensive. But they actually cure patients deemed incurable.”

Zack shook his head, unwilling to listen.

“Blind people see again, kids with lethal birth defects live normal healthy lives.”

“Hoping is a waste of time." Zack wished Carrick would give up. “Besides, I could never afford it. I bet it’s not covered by my military health plan.”

“I could pull a few strings. For someone with your precious knowledge, I’m sure I can find a big wig to authorize the expense." Carrick winked. “And I’d have an excuse to go to Washington and visit Tierney again.”

“You dog." But Zack suspected his friend’s infatuation with the Senator’s daughter had more to do with advancement than romance. Unlike Zack, Carrick didn’t value love, only efficiency.

Carrick squeezed Zack’s shoulder. “Think about it, my friend. It’s your life. What do you have to lose?" He walked out, leaving Zack in turmoil.

Indeed, what did Zack have to lose? But more importantly, what did he have to gain? Even a remote chance of improving his condition could be worth undergoing more surgeries and the torture of re-education.

Zack didn’t fool himself into thinking he could be normal again, but for the first time since that fated raid, he dared to dream. All the physicians he’d seen since the raid had told him there was no hope, and he’d resigned himself. Could they be wrong?

Could Zack ever be a complete man again?
Even a lover?
Could he face Tia without cringing at the look of pity on her face? He closed his eyes to the hurt. He couldn’t bear the thought of their happy past together and pushed away the images.

Hope could get him hurt, too. Hope meant expectations, and Zack couldn’t allow himself this luxury. He would, however, accept Carrick’s generous offer and make an appointment with Dr. Devertas, just to check the veracity of this unexpected new option.

*****

Dr. Devertas’ office CEM New York – early 2012

After months of observation and evaluation, Zack stared at the large multicolored scans on the wall of Dr. Devertas’ office. They represented Zack’s spine and nervous system in minute details.

The good Doctor seemed to evaluate Zack’s worth, not only as a patient, but as a man. He stared at Zack pointedly. “It’s a very delicate procedure, but not impossible. I cannot guarantee that you will walk again, but we stand a good chance of reattaching the severed nerves, if they have not lost their elasticity. I have to warn you, however, that the recovery will be extremely painful, and there may be unexpected side effects.”

“Like what?" Zack’s natural suspicions returned.

“Well,” Dr. Devertas cleared his throat. “We noticed changes in our post surgical patients, probably due to the enhancing drugs we use to speed the healing process. It seems that when the nervous system repairs itself, it also tends to establish new nervous connections, and open channels that may not have been there before the surgery. Connections in the brain, for example, or certain functions previously dormant could awaken.”

“You mean I’d use more than the usual ten percent of my brain?" It didn’t sound so bad.

“Yes, and sometimes it is a welcome improvement." Dr. Devertas stared at Zack with intensity. “But it can also be scary.”

“How scary?”

The doctor shrugged. “Nightmares, premonitions, that kind of thing…”

Zack had the feeling that Dr. Devertas wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but the temptation won over his doubts. “It still sounds worth it."

“Very well."
Something in the Doctor’s smile seemed
forced
. “It’s a long process, we’ll operate in stages, and you will need to heal between surgeries.”

“I’m familiar with that method." Zack had a patchwork of scars on his back to prove it.

Although Zack didn’t really trust Devertas, the man represented his last and only chance. Besides, Zack had nothing to lose. He’d rather take a chance at living a full life than accept this parody of existence, no matter the cost. And if he died in the process, at least he’d have tried.

Zack returned the doctor’s smile. “When do we start?”

*****

CEM
, New York, two weeks later

Zack awoke, drenched in sweat. In his nightmare, Anaz-voohri butchers opened his brain and used sharp instruments to test his nerves, sending jolts of sharp pain through his head. He spoke to his dead sister Ashley in his dreams, and she warned him about the dangers of alien surgery. Why? No one was going to touch his brain.

The nurses had taken away the wheelchair from his hospital room, not that Zack would have been able to use it in his semi-comatose state. Even his arms didn’t respond to his command anymore, but it could be due to the drugs.

Sometimes Zack struggled to stay awake to avoid the nightmares, but then horrible hallucinations and headaches tortured him in his waking state. He lost track of the days and of where he was. The torture of his treatment seemed endless and in short moments of lucidity, Zack worried about his sanity.

Chapter Seventeen

New York
CEM - 2013

The Aquatic Rehabilitation Center, with its white marble columns, lofty skylights and modern frescoes, resembled a Roman spa. The natural lighting, couches,
bar
and potted plants added to the decadent feeling of the place. Inside the pool of blue water, Zack sat on the underwater bench and pulled off his yellow rubber fins. He massaged his calves aching from the recent strain.

“Now to the treadmill."
Dr. Devertas, wearing a white coat, adjusted the underwater camera from the marble console.

Zack floated in the warm water toward the aquatic treadmill and seized the handlebars. Why did it have to hurt so much? He positioned his feet on the belt then lifted each foot in a clumsy walk as the belt started moving under him.

“That’s it, just keep the same rhythm." Dr. Devertas checked Zack’s movements on the wall screen connected to the underwater cameras. “You are doing fine.”

“Easy for you to say."
But Zack’s healing journey had surpassed his expectations. After weeks of a drugged nightmare and more weeks of painful assisted re-education, first in bed then in a standing harness, sensation and coordination had gradually returned to his lower body. He could now move his legs at will, although each movement caused him pain and lacked in grace. “I still have the sensation that worms are crawling under my skin at night.”

“It’s a very good sign." Dr. Devertas still stared at the wall screen. “Your nerves are getting back to work. They’ve healed enough for the sensations to return. Right now, they are experiencing temporary overload.”

“Glad to hear it’s temporary." For the past week, Zack had seen incredible improvement despite the daily torture. He’d gone from totally disabled to almost ambulant, and his lower body muscles grew stronger each day. But he still had to build up strength so his legs could support his weight.

Dr. Devertas
zoomed
the camera on Zack’s thighs. “The burning, the aches, the itch, the muscle spasms, that’s normal. Just keep up with the medications and the massages. It will get better.”

The flotation factor compensating for lack of strength and balance, Zack focused on each step. In his mind, the dreamy face of a very young man with dark wavy hair and striking black eyes appeared. The name Dylan resounded in his head. “I think I have a visitor."

Dr. Devertas smiled in approval. “You are getting better at discerning your precognitive skills as well.”

When the glass doors slid open with a whoosh, the young man from Zack’s vision walked into the marble atrium, wearing jeans, a purple tee-shirt and a Yankee baseball cap.

Devertas smiled and waved to the newcomer “Hi, Dylan." Then he glanced at Zack. “I’ll let you two alone. Just keep up with the rhythm." The doctor walked out of the atrium through the automatic glass doors.

Zack watched with increasing curiosity the young man whose white sneakers squeaked on the marble floor. Each premonition still took Zack by surprise. Answers popped into his mind, names, faces, people he’d never met before. The more it happened, the more Zack wanted to trust this intuitive ability, but he still didn’t dare.

The young man crouched at the pool’s edge. “What’s up?" He held out his hand. “Corporal Dylan Brady. Colonel Carrick sent me.
Looks like we’re going to be working together."

Zack waved the hand away. “Sorry, I’m all wet.”

Dylan laughed. “Hey, man, I won’t melt.”

“Suit yourself." Zack reached and shook the offered hand, a strong honest handshake, but Zack couldn’t help resent the perfect coordination of the healthy youth. “You look too young to work for Carrick. What are you, seventeen?" Zack winced as his leg cramped and he glanced at the counter on the wall screen, making sure his rhythm remained consistent.

Dylan shrugged. “I’m eighteen, dude, and age is irrelevant.
Seems we have a lot in common.”

“Really?"
What could Zack possibly have in common with this young healthy pup?
“How so?”

“We both owe our quality of life to the miracle of new science." Dylan sat at the edge of the pool, crossing his legs into a lotus position. Was he showing off? Then he stared at Zack with a sparkle in his unsettling black eyes. “I used to be blind.”

Zack found it difficult to believe that such extraordinary eyes could have ever been sightless. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. I was born with a birth defect, the kind with no possible cure." The seriousness in Dylan’s face left no doubt about the veracity of his claim.

“Damn." New science... The expression brought up some of Zack’s reservations. Dr. Devertas insisted it was just the logical edge of human scientific advances, but his techniques defied all known medical theories.

Dylan let his hand trail in the water, making small ripples. “I also developed weird psychic abilities after my surgery. I understand you have similar symptoms.”

It almost sounded like an interrogation, and Zack hated being probed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do." Dylan kept staring at the play of light on the water surface, from the sunshine filtering through the skylights. “Your nurses say you can tell in advance what will happen in the news that day. Ain’t that right?”

“Can’t a patient have any privacy anymore?" The fact that Devertas and the nurses reported to Carrick made Zack’s blood rush faster. “It’s not really new, you know. I used to have psychic communications with my sister years ago, before I ever set foot in this place. I always had the gene. My sister had it, too.”

“Well,” Dylan rose, unfolding like a cat, and casually scanned the empty place, as if making sure they were still alone. “It seems Colonel Carrick has a use for people with our kind of talent.”

Zack snorted. “My new gift is too unreliable for that. How is my friend Carrick, by the way?”

“Hunting hybrids, I suppose." Dylan paused and his words echoed in the empty atrium. “But he wants us to focus on identifying them through our special skills.”

“Psychic spies?"
Zack missed a step and cursed at the pain. The underwater device beeped, and he had to focus on his exercise. Did everyone have a secret agenda? “And here I thought Carrick just wanted me to walk again.”

“And you will, soon." Dylan casually ambled to a nearby lounge chair and reclined upon it, hands under his head. “Dr. Devertas says within a month you’ll be kicking my ass.”

Zack considered the fit teenager with surprise. The idea of getting physical so soon flushed Zack with renewed energy as he kept working the submerged treadmill. He chuckled. “You are on, Dylan.”

“In the meantime, Colonel Carrick wants me to help you refine your gift to operate with maximum efficiency.”

“Maximum efficiency?"
Zack had no doubt these were Carrick’s exact words. The underwater treadmill beeped three times, signaling the end of his session. “Let me get to the Jacuzzi." The hot jets usually alleviated some of the muscle aches.