Instant Karma's gonna get you,
Gonna knock you right on the head,
You better get yourself together,
Pretty soon you're gonna be dead,
What in the world you thinking of,
Laughing in the face of love,
What on earth you tryin' to do,
It's up to you, yeah you.
-- John Lennon (Instant Karma)
=/\=
Otra and Rick followed Levi out to where the Wells was parked. In 3109, perhaps parked wasn't the right word for a ship being made stationary when all it wanted to do was move. Tethered – that was a tad more accurate.
Levi began with just a cursory check, and was about ready to call it a day when Otra put a hand on his arm to stop him, "No, Levi, do the whole thing. Please."
He complied. He would do a lot for Otra, he was learning, even though that sometimes came into conflict with his obsessive singularity of purpose.
"I think the 1970 shooting is a fine idea for a training mission," Otra stated as she and Rick watched Levi work.
"I figure it could almost be a bit of fun to start – a campus in the 1960s, 1970s can be quite an experience – but I also like the idea of getting down to business almost immediately," Rick said, "I don't love watching people get killed, but we definitely deal with that."
"I bet that's a part of what that Manifesto is all about," Otra mused, "I am assuming there is some sort of a group that's poised against us. It's almost easy for them; they could practically hold themselves up as paragons of virtue. We're the ones who let all of these good people – or, at least, innocent ones- die, while they oh so magnanimously save them."
"Yeah," Rick agreed, "I don't think I need to read their Manifesto to know they're doing, and thinking, something like that. It's not so easy to be the bad guy all the time."
"I don't think you're the bad guy," she said.
"All set," Levi said, "Really, you can check my work if you don't believe me."
"That's okay. I trust you," Rick said, "And, thanks," But Levi didn't hear him – he'd already returned to the relative safety of his office, and the siren call of the as-yet uncracked encrypted PADD file.
=/\=
Tom Grant's operations went off without a hitch, and it was time for Sheilagh Bernstein. Marisol and Boris had surgical nurses helping them, plus they needed to keep focused and in a sterile environment. This was neither the time nor the place for hanky panky.
They had a few gadgets to implant. First, it was time for the optic nerve enhancements. These required the most delicate work. The cutting was done automatically and there was no need for a super-steady hand, but it did still require their fullest attentions.
They were the tiniest of devices, little discs that went behind the patient's own natural lenses. They were even sensitive to some chemicals which could be applied if there was any sort of a need to change the color of Sheilagh's eyes from their natural greyish-blue to brown or hazel or something else.
Next came the ear canal implants. These were a bit tricky to place although they were larger. This was because of the often Byzantine and odd configurations of patients' ear canals. The fit was to be absolutely perfect, and the implants could only go in one way. Boris had learned – even though he could technically do these last – it was best to take care of them a bit earlier, as he'd have more patience for all of the necessary fiddling and adjusting.
The left one, in this case, was particularly tricky, possibly that had something to do with the simultaneous implantation of the tiny Communicator into Sheilagh's ear. That one took about three times longer to place than the right one.
Finally, it was time for the cerebral enhancements. This kind of augmentation was also slow work. Cut, place, adjust, cauterize, over and over again. Generally, these augmentations were to enhance memory, plus they worked in tandem with the ocular and auditory placements. There was also a homing device built in – in the event of brain death, the subject would be brought back to Headquarters automatically.
Agents still needed PADDs for large amounts of data – the technology had been tricorders for a long time, but it was smaller and lighter now, so the name had reverted back to PADD. They needed phasers to stun or kill if necessary. They needed Transporter remote controls and implanted Communicators for obvious reasons. But mainly, with the enhanced pieces being implanted and switched on, Agents could get along in almost any time or place with few needs, dangers or encumbrances. They weren't perfect, but they were more than good enough for time travel.
=/\=
For their parts, Sheilagh and Tom dreamt during the procedures. It was hard not to, as their brains were being jiggered in every which way.
Tom settled into his usual dream, which involved saving some sort of damsel in distress or another. His subconscious mind selected Carol Tilson, who had been interviewing for a Temporal Agent position at the same time he had been.
He had barely spoken three words to her, yet there she was, her hair streaked with copper and her skin the color of coffee with a little half and half. Not a latte – more like a cappuccino.
They were in a jungle, surrounded by dangerous wild animals, some from Earth, others from Kronos or Lafa XII or Bajor. They were then running, being chased, and then swinging from vines, in a rather Tarzanesque vein.
He was saving her, she was kissing him on the cheek in appreciation – and perhaps as a prelude to more – and then she was falling, and he was somehow obligated to let her fall.
He heard, rather than saw, the impact, and could not believe what he had let happen.
He shook himself awake – no mean feat as he was still recovering from the effects of the general anesthesia. He sat up and was smacked with the worst headache of his life.
=/\=
Sheilagh dreamt of a fashion show.
It was anything and everything – loincloths and Neanderthalers' attire, uniforms from the old NX-01, present-day paneled skirts – you name it.
The models flitted by, strutting on the catwalk. The creations were tempting, but all out of reach.
It changed, as she suddenly felt hopelessly out of step and out of fashion, behind the times no matter what she did.
She, too, awoke with a splitting headache.
=/\=
Instant Karma's gonna get you,
Gonna look you right in the face,
Better get yourself together darlin',
Join the human race,
How in the world you gonna see,
Laughin' at fools like me,
Who on earth d'you think you are,
A super star,
Well, right you are.
Well we all shine on,
Like the moon and the stars and the sun,
Well we all shine on,
Everyone come on.
-- John Lennon (Instant Karma)
YOU ARE READING
Ohio
FanfictionThis time, they had no one to blame but themselves. Time was again messed up, but no one else was at fault. Still, someone was watching, and taking notes. And they had their own dilemma to deal with - how do you decide who lives, and who dies? Who's...
