A State of Future Existing

Chapter 7

Dr. Han Hyun-woo dragged his finger across the portscreen, scanning the patient's records. Male. Thirty-two years old. He had a child but no mention of a spouse. Unemployed. Turned cyborg after a debilitating work-related-accident three years ago, no doubt spent most of his savings on the surgery. He'd traveled all the way from Tokyo.

So many strikes against him, and Dr. Hyun-woo couldn't explain that to anybody. Sticking his tongue out between his teeth, he raspberried his disappointment.

"What do you think doctor?" asked today's assistant, a dark-skinned girl whose name he could never recall and who was taller than him by at least four inches. He liked to give her task that kept her seated while she worked.

Dr. Hyun-woo filled his lungs slowly, then released them all at once, changing the display to more relevant diagram of the patient's body. He had a mere 6.4 percent makeup- his right foot, a bit of wiring, and a thumb-nail size control panel embedded in his thigh.

"Too old," he said, tossing the port onto the countertop before the observation window. On the other side of the glass, the patient was laid out on the table. He looked peaceful but for madly tapping fingers against the plastic cushions. His feet were bare, but skin grafting covered the prosthesis.

"Too old?" said the assistant. She stood and came to the window, waving her own portscreen at him. "Thirty-two is too old now?"

"We can't use him."

She bunched up her lips to one side. "Doctor, this will be the sixth draft subject you've turned away this month. We can't afford to keep doing this."

"He had a child. A son. It says so right here."

"Yeah, a child who'll be able to afford dinner tonight because his daddy was lucky enough to fit our subject profile."

"To fit our profile? With a 6.4 percent ratio?"

"It's better than testing on people." She dropped the portscreen beside a tray of Petri dishes. "You really want to let him go?"

Dr. Hyun-woo glared into the quarantine room, a growl humming in the back of his throat. Pulling his shoulders back, he tugged down on his lab coat. "Placebo him."

"Pla- but he's not sick!"

"Yes, but if we don't give him anything, the treasury will wonder what we're doing down here. Now, give him a placebo and submit a report so he can be on his way."

The girl huffed and went to grab a labeled vial from a shelf. 

"What are we doing down here?"

Dr. Hyun-woo held up a finger, but the girl gave him such an irritated look that he forgot what he'd been about to say. "What's your name again?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I've only been you assistant every Monday for the past four months."

She turned her back on him, her long black braid whipping against her hip. Dr. Hyun-woo's eyebrows drew together as he stared at the braid watching as it wound itself up, curling in on itself. A shiny black snake rearing its head. Hissing at him. Ready to strike.

He slammed shut his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them again, the braid was just a braid. Shiny black hair. Harmless.

Pulling off his hat, Dr. Hyun-woo took a moment to rub at his own hair, turning gray and considerably less full than his assistants.

The visions were getting worse.

The door to the lab room opened. "Doctor?"

He jolted and stuffed his head back into the hat. "Yes?" he said, grabbing his portscreen. Duri, another assistant, lingered with his hand on the doorknob. Dr. Hyun-woo had always liked Duri- who was also tall but not as tall as the girl.