THE TITAN EXPERIMENT

CHAPTER 11 - Cinema of the Mind

Sarah lied at the bottom of a great sea of blackness. She couldn't see her hands or feet. Nothing. But the darkness was tangible. It weighed upon her, holding her down, and enveloping her entire body. However, there was a small circle of light high above her. Somehow, she knew she had to reach it.

She felt a release. She was free, swimming toward the bright circle. The closer she got to the top, the less encumbered she became until she escaped the confines of the dark water and emerged on the surface.

"What did you do to me?" Sarah said as light crept around the edges of her peripheral vision. The first wave of grogginess rolled over her like a tidal wave, her words blending in a drug induced haze. Something smelled like rotten eggs. Nausea churned in her stomach as she nudged up on an elbow, teetering like a drunken sailor, and then collapsed back into a bed. A hand reached across her and grabbed her by the shoulder. Another hand slipped under her head, both working together to raise her high enough to vomit into a plastic pan.

Finally, she released everything she had held back ever since her ride in the hover car. The contents of her stomach poured out, splattering on her chin as she heaved, her abdomen drawing up in a tight spasm. It was mostly liquid, thanks to the fact Wolf hadn't fed her the scrambled eggs and bacon. As those same hands lowered her head and wiped a rag over her mouth and face, Sarah struggled to open her eyes, clawing her way through the mental fog.

"Where am I?" she said. "What happened? What did you do to me?"

"I can assure you," Dr. Curtis Frazier replied, hovering over her, his emotionless face fading in and out of the fog, "we've done nothing to you, except make one minor modification. And you're already healing nicely, I might add."

Sarah eased up in the bed, the room swaying in circles. Her head felt heavy and thick, bobbling on her shoulders. Again, she dropped back into the linen sheets, squeezing her eyelids shut. The reality sank in that she was in a post-op room, her brain analyzing her surroundings and processing the information concerning her whereabouts, and her condition, in slow, methodical increments.

She pried her eyes open gradually, her vision adjusting to the fluorescent lighting. In the recesses of her mind, she calculated whether she should make a run for it. This recent development—being put under anesthesia and being operated on against her will—had blindsided her. They had done something to her, violated her body without permission. If there was ever a reason to run, she had the best one imaginable. But who was she kidding? She wouldn't get far in this state.

Instead of contemplating escape, Sarah went into observation mode. She took in the drab gray walls that surrounded her, noticing there weren't any windows or decorations. Her head rolled to the side. An IV dripped fluids, the line snaking to the fold in her arm below the elbow. She glanced up at Dr. Frazier. Back to the IV. Back to his mop of curly brown hair. Then she remembered their conversation moments before Wolf drugged her.

Her hand flew to the back of her head and located the square patch of gauze at the base of her skull. "Did you put something in my head?"

"An upgrade."

"In my head?"

"She has a tendency to ask stupid questions," a familiar voice said... Wolf walking into the room, the door whispering shut behind him. The dimple in the middle of his chin was smooth with a clean shave.

Dr. Frazier looked his way. "Yes, well, she's undergone extensive brain surgery, so—"

"I thought you said it was minor."

His head swiveled back to Sarah. "The human brain complicates any procedure, but the application was straightforward, an implant connecting to your temporal lobe."