Nebulae and Cosmic Filaments - A Second Anthology of SF SD Shorts

An Uncommon Hero

A/N: SFSD 7, round 2 entry, featuring Billy the Kid, the Falkland Islands and quotes in bold.

There was a jolt and a flash of light.  Wherever both came from, it was enough to jerk him to consciousness.  Where, when his hands and feet couldn't touch anything, wall or floor, it was somewhat disturbing.

"Alert, alert, primary researcher to maturation complex.  Subject 1860 has reached consciousness.  Alert, alert, primary researcher to maturation complex, immediately!"

He could feel a frown forming on his mouth as the strange words, now accompanied by a flat sort of siren sound, echoed throughout the space he currently occupied.  'Just what the hell was that?' he found himself wondering as his eyes fluttered open only to find them filled with darkness.  'And where the hell am I?' 

Without warning a line of glowing blue text appeared in front of him in the darkness, large enough for him to make out the words without squinting, and in a language he understood.

"Hello," the first word said before continuing.  "I am Jeeves, the research station's Artificial Intelligence.  While we wait for Doctor Kinsey to arrive, I've been tasked to test a number of your somatic and neurological responses.  Are you ready?"

He pondered that question for a moment.

"I guess," he replied, startled to hear his own voice in his ears, hoarse from lack of use and muffled by something he couldn't determine.

"Very well," the words responded.  "We'll start with your somatic responses."  And he felt pinpricks dance over his body.  That was quickly followed by twitching in various muscles, allowing him to feel his limbs as they hung in space.

"Somatic responses within acceptable limits." Jeeves wrote in those glowing letters.  "Now we will test your neurological responses, starting with vision."  And lights began to randomly flash in his eyes.  That was quickly followed by a series of beeping sounds in his ears, sensations of cold and hot in random parts of his body then more twitching.  While he tried to figure out what exactly was going on, there was a rush through his body quickly followed by flitting sensations of fight or flight, hunger, fear, anger and sadness.

"Motor cortex is aligned, sensory cortex has been calibrated, endocrine system has been primed, and the neuro-somatic interface is operating at optimal capacity." Jeeves reported.  "Testing frontal lobe and limbic interaction."  There was a slight pause, then:

"How do you feel?"

"What??"  he stammered, caught by surprise by the direct question.

"How do you feel?" the words repeated.

"Uh, confused, mostly," he began.  Before he could say more, however, a crack of light appeared directly in front of him, spilling pristine white illumination into the darkness he was inhabiting.  He blinked several times to force his eyes to adjust.  By the time they cleared and accounted for the increased light, he could see it was a pair of clamshell doors that were swinging out of the way to create the opening now yawning in front of him.  And by that light he could also see he was floating suspended in a large tank of pale blue fluid.

Slightly distorted by that fluid, which was slightly less viscous than a full-on gel, was a figure standing on the other side of the tank's clear wall.  It was dressed all in white, and appeared to be surrounded by a number of small, toy-like figures, also in white.

"O Lord!" a tiny voice chirped from one of the little shapes, just audible through the tank wall's thick material.  "Ooh, you are so big!  So absolutely huge.  Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell you."

"Hush!" a deeper voice commanded.  "He's not used to seeing constructs like you.  You'll startle him."  Then, a bit louder: "Manites, prepare to decant the subject!"  And he watched as the tiny, toy-like figures scattered in every direction.

The figure in white then leaned forward to lightly tap on the tank's front surface.

"Just hold on, Mr. McCarty," it said.  "We'll have you out of there shortly!"

First to appear were slender mechanical arms, extending out of hidden doors to take hold of him with padded pincers.  As soon as he was secure, the blue fluid began to rapidly drain.  Within seconds he found himself hanging in air, suspended by the arms.

As he hung there, another mechanical arm extended and removed the covering that had been attached to his face that allowed him to breath while suspended in the fluid.  Then the top of the tank was sliding to the side and he was being pulled out.

It was as he left the tank, that he discovered with a shiver that he was naked.

"Ah, a bit cold I see," the figure in white commented.  "We'll get you some appropriate clothing immediately, Mr. McCarty.  Manites?"

Without warning he was being swarmed by dozens of doll figures, each carrying a piece of what looked like fabric.  In the same motion tiny hands dried the last of the fluid off him, then wrapped him in fabric.  Within seconds he was both dried off and dressed in a pair of pale gray overalls.  His outfit was completed by two of the Manites staggering up with a pair of short boots, each carrying one.

"Uh, thanks," he said, his voice sounding a bit more normal now that he had used it a bit, and the face mask wasn't muffling it.

"You're welcome!" the two that brought him his boots chirped before scurrying off with the rest of their comrades.

The figure in white stepped closer now that he was clothed and he could see that it was an older Caucasian man in coveralls just like his, his long hair as white as his clothing.  Yet he was clean shaven, his thin face lined and worn with age.  However, there was no denying the sparkle of intelligence in his bright, blue eyes.

The old man held out a withered hand.

"Hello, Mr. McCarty," he said with a smile.  "I am Doctor Kinsey, the head researcher at this facility."

Taking the hand, which was warm and frail, he gave it a tentative shake before letting it go.

"Thanks," he repeated.  "I, uh, don't know what's going on here."

The old man's smile widened slightly.

"No, you wouldn't, my friend.  You are new to this world and haven't yet accessed the engrams we've implanted into your memory."  Kinsey reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.  "And before you say: you can't expect to wield supreme power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you, I'll try to explain.  I just wish we had the time to properly orientate you to this world and the strange things you are about to see.  But I'm afraid the situation is far too urgent and complex to allow that to happen."

The hand shifted to become a guide, drawing him out of the chamber he now stood in.

"Come.  We'll talk as we walk to the armory and hopefully I can info dump fast enough to satisfy all of your questions!"

Nodding, he took one last look around.  And he saw that the large, circular chamber went up several stories, its walls lined with identical tanks like the one he had just been taken out of.  Then they were passing out of the chamber's only door and into a broad hallway.  As they did, he couldn't help but wonder 'Just where the hell am I?"