She returned to the bed and sat down, rubbing her fingers and letting out a sigh.
“Please be careful, young lady,” a voice said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
Tally glanced at her hand. The knuckles weren’t even red. “Just wanted to get your attention.”
“Attention? Hmm. Is that what this is all about?”
Tally groaned. If anything was more annoying than being sealed up in a wacko chamber, it was being talked to like a littlie who’d been caught chucking a stink bomb. The voice sounded deep and calming and generic, like some therapy drone. She imagined a committee of doctors behind the wall, typing in answers for the soothing computer voice to speak.
“Actually, this is about my room not having a door,” she said. “Did I break a law or something?”
“You are being held under controlled observation, as a possible danger to yourself and others.”
Tally rolled her eyes. When she got out of here, she was going to be a lot more than a possible danger. But she only said, “Who, me?”
“You jumped off the Overlook Cliff with inadequate equipment, for starters.”
Tally’s mouth dropped open. “You’re saying that was my fault? I was just talking to an old friend of mine, and suddenly all these random nutcases with bows and arrows started shooting at me. What was I supposed to do? Stand around and get kidnapped?”
The voice paused. “We are reviewing video of the incident. We admit, however, that there are certain immigrant elements here in Diego who can be difficult. We apologize. They’ve never behaved this badly before. Rest assured that mediation is taking place.”
“Mediation? Like, you’re talking to them about it? Why don’t you lock a few of them up, instead of me? After all, I’m the victim here.”
There was another pause. “That remains to be determined. May I ask your name, city of origin, and exactly how you know this ‘old friend’ of yours?”
Tally felt the bedcovers between her fingers. Like the wall padding, they were woven through with microsensors, greedy little machines to measure her heart rate, sweat, and galvanic skin response. She took a few slow breaths, getting her anger under control. If she stayed focused, they could polygraph her all day without detecting a flicker of a lie.
“My name’s Tally,” she said carefully. “I ran away from up north. I heard you guys were nice to runaways.”
“We welcome immigrants. Under the New System, we allow anyone to apply for Diego citizenship.”
“‘The New System’? Is that what you call this?” Tally rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well the New System sucks if you lock people up just for running away from psychos. Did I mention the bows and arrows?”
“Rest assured, you are not under observation because of any of your actions, Tally. We’re more concerned with certain morphological violations.”
Despite her focus, a nervous flicker ran down Tally’s spine. “My what?”
“Tally, your body has been constructed around a reinforced ceramic skeleton. Your fingernails and teeth have been weaponized, your muscles and reflex centers significantly augmented.”
With a sickening feeling, Tally realized what the wardens had done. Thinking she was seriously hurt, they’d brought her to the hospital for deep scanning, and what the doctors had found had made the authorities very nervous.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to sound innocent.
“There are also certain structures in your higher cortex, apparently artificial, which seemed designed to change your behavior. Tally, do you ever suffer from sudden flashes of anger or euphoria, countersocial impulses, or feelings of superiority?”
Tally took another deep breath, fighting to remain calm. “What I’m suffering from is being locked up,” she said in a slow, deliberate voice.
“Why do you have scars on your arms, Tally? Did someone do that to you?”
“What, these?” She laughed, running her fingers down the row of cutting scars. “Where I come from, they’re just a fashion statement!”
“Tally, you may not be aware of what has been done to your mind. It may seem natural for you to cut yourself.”
“But they’re just . . .” Tally groaned and shook her head. “After all the crazy surgery I’ve seen around here, you’re worried about a few scars?”
“We’re only worried about what they indicate regarding your mental balance.”
“Don’t talk to me about mental balance,” Tally growled, deciding to give up on acting calm. “I’m not the one who locks people up!”
“Do you understand the political disputes between your city and ours, Tally?”
“Political disputes?” she asked. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Your city has a long history of dangerous surgical practices, Tally. That history, and Diego’s policy on runaways, have often been a source of diplomatic conflict. The advent of the New System has only made things worse.”
Tally snorted. “So you’re locking me up because of where I come from! Have you guys gone totally Rusty?”
There was a long pause after that. Tally imagined the doctors arguing over what to type into their voice software. “Why are you torturing me?” she shouted, trying to sound like a harmless, whining pretty. “Let me see your faces!”
She curled up on the bed and made sobbing noises, but readied herself to leap in any direction. These dimwits probably didn’t realized that her arms had completely fixed themselves while she was asleep. All she needed was one door open half a centimeter and she would be out of this hospital in a heartbeat, naked or not.
After another moment’s silence, the voice returned. “I’m afraid, Tally, that you cannot be allowed to go free. Because of your body modifications, you meet our criteria for a dangerous weapon. And dangerous weapons are illegal in Diego.”
Tally stopped her crying act, her jaw dropping open. “You mean, I’m illegal?” she cried. “How can a person be illegal?”
“You are not accused of any crime, Tally. We believe the authorities of your city are responsible. But before you leave this hospital, your morphological violations must be corrected.”
“Forget it! You’re not touching me!”
The voice didn’t react to her anger, just droned on soothingly. “Tally, your city has often meddled in the affairs of other cities, especially on the issue of runaways. We believe that you were unknowingly altered and sent here to create instability among our immigrant population.”
They thought she was a dupe, not even a conscious agent of Special Circumstances. Of course, they had no idea how complicated the truth really was.
“Then let me go home,” she said softly, trying to turn her frustration into tears. “I’ll leave, I promise. Just let me go.” She squeezed her teeth down harder on her lower lip. Her eyes burned, but as always, no tears came.
“We cannot allow you to go free in your current morphological configuration. You’re simply too dangerous, Tally.”
You have no idea, she thought.
“You’re free to leave Diego if you want,” the voice continued, “but not until we make some physical adjustments.”
“No.” A chill washed over her. They couldn’t.
“We cannot legally release you without disarming you.”
“But you can’t operate on me if I don’t want you to.” She imagined herself weak again, pathetic and puny and average. “What about . . . informed consent?”
“If you prefer, we will make no experimental attempts to change your altered brain chemistry. With counseling, you may learn to control your behavior. But your dangerous body modifications will be corrected using proven surgical techniques. Informed consent is not required.”
Tally opened her mouth again, but nothing came out. They wanted to make her average again without even fixing her brain? What sort of nightmare logic was that?
The four impregnable walls around her seemed suddenly suffocating, their glittering eyes hungry and mocking. Tally imagined col
d metal instruments reaching into her and tearing out everything special from inside.
For those few moments kissing Zane, she’d imagined that she wanted to be normal. But now that someone was threatening to grind her down to averageness, she couldn’t stand the thought.
She wanted to be able to look at Zane without disgust, to touch him, kiss him. But not if it meant being changed against her will again . . .
“Just let me go,” she whispered.
“I’m afraid we can’t, Tally. But when we’re done, you’ll be as beautiful and healthy as everyone else. Think of it, here in Diego you can look any way you want.”
“This isn’t about how I look!” Tally sprang to her feet and ran to the nearest wall. She pulled her fist back and gave it the hardest blow she could. Pain shot through her again.
“Tally, please stop.”
“Forget it!” She set her teeth and grimly punched the wall again. If she started hurting herself, someone would have to open the door.
And then they’d see how dangerous she really was.
“Tally, please.”
Again, she drew back her hand and struck the wall, felt her knuckles threatening to shatter against the iron hardness behind the padding. A gasp of pain slipped through her lips, and spatters of blood marked the padding, but Tally couldn’t hold back. They knew how strong she was, and this had to look real.
“You leave us no choice.”
Good, she thought. Just come on in and try to stop me.
She struck the wall again, another cry escaping . . . more blood.
Then Tally felt something through the pain: a dizziness washing over her.
“No,” she said. “Not fair.”
From under all the hospital smells of disinfectant and bedpans, so slight that no average human would have detected it, it filtered into her nostrils. Specials were usually immune to knockout gas, but Diego knew her secrets now. They could have designed this just for her. . . .
Tally sank to her knees. She slowed her breathing to a minimum, trying desperately to calm herself, to suck in as little air as possible. They might not have guessed how thoroughly she was designed to deal with every form of attack, how quickly she could metabolize toxins.
Tally leaned against the wall, feeling weaker every second. The padding was suddenly so comfortable, as if someone had put pillows everywhere. She managed a few interface gestures with her left hand, setting her software to ping her every ten minutes. Tally had to wake up before they were ready to operate.
She tried to focus, to plan, but the sparkling of the little lenses in the padding was so lovely. Her eyes slid closed. She had to escape, but first Tally needed to sleep.
Sleep wasn’t that bad, really, like being a bubblehead again, nothing to worry about, no anger deep inside. . . .
VOICES
It was nice here. Nice and quiet.
For the first time in a long while, Tally felt no fury, no frustration. The tension in her muscles had gone, along with the feeling that she had to be somewhere, do something, prove herself again. Here in this place, she was just Tally, and that simple knowledge flowed across her skin like a pleasant breeze. Her right hand felt particularly nice—all bubbly, as if someone were dribbling warm champagne over it.
She half-opened her eyes. Everything was pleasantly out of focus, not all sharp and edgy like usual. In fact, it was pretty much all clouds around here, white and fluffy. Like a littlie staring up into the sky, Tally could see any shape she wanted. She tried to imagine a dragon, but her brain couldn’t make the wings look real . . . and the teeth were sort of complicated.
Besides, dragons were too scary. Tally, or maybe it was someone she knew, had once had a bad experience with one.
It was better to imagine her friends: Shay-la and Zane-la, everyone who loved her. That’s all she really wanted, to go and see them once she’d gotten a little more sleep.
She closed her eyes again.
• • •
Ping.
There was that sound again. It came back every once in a while, like an old friend checking up on her.
“Hi, ping-la,” she said.
The ping never answered. But Tally liked to be polite.
“Did she just say something, Doctor?” someone asked.
“Couldn’t have. Not with what we gave her.”
“Did you see her metabolic chart?” a third voice said. “We’re not taking any risks. Check those straps.”
Someone grumbled, then started fiddling with Tally’s hands and feet one by one, in a circle that started with her bubbly right hand and went clockwise. Tally imagined that she was a clock, lying there and quietly ticking.
“Don’t worry, Doctor. She’s not going anyplace.”
The voice was wrong about that, because a moment later Tally was going places, floating along on her back. She couldn’t open her eyes, but it felt like being on some kind of hovercarrier. Lights pulsed overhead, bright enough to see even through her eyelids. Her inner ear felt the hovercarrier take a left turn, slow down, then rumble across a bump in the magnetic grid. Then she was accelerating upward, fast enough that her ears popped a little.
“All right,” one of the voices said. “Wait here for the prep team. Do not leave her alone, and call me if she moves.”
“Okay, Doctor. But she’s not moving.”
Tally smiled. She decided to play a game where she didn’t move. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the idea that fooling the voice would be lots of fun.
• • •
Ping.
“Hi,” she answered, then remembered about not moving.
Tally lay still for a moment, then started to wonder where the pings were coming from. They were starting to get annoying.
She shifted her fingers, until an interface dropped down over the inside of her eyelids. Her internal software wasn’t as fuzzy as everything else, and she didn’t have to do anything but twitch her fingers to make it work.
Tally saw that the pings were a wake-up reminder. She was supposed to get up and do something.
She let out a slow sigh. Lying here was so nice. Besides, she couldn’t remember what it was she had pinged herself about. Which made the whole ping pretty pointless. In fact, the whole ping was silly. Tally would have giggled, if giggling weren’t so difficult. Suddenly, every ping was silly.
She twitched a finger to switch off the wake-up cycle, so it wouldn’t bother her again.
But the question kept bugging Tally: What was she supposed to do? Maybe one of the other Cutters would know. She flicked on her skintenna feed.
“Tally?” a voice asked. “Finally!”
Tally smiled. Shay-la always knew what to do.
“Are you okay?” Shay said. “Where’ve you been!”
Tally tried to answer, but talking was too hard.
“Are you all right, Tally?” Shay said after a few moments, sounding worried now.
Tally remembered that Shay had been mad at her, and her smile grew. Shay-la didn’t sound mad anymore, just concerned.
Tally tried hard, and managed to drawl, “I’m sleepy.”
“Oh, crap.”
That was weird, Tally thought. Two voices had said “Oh, crap” at exactly the same time, in exactly the same scared way. One voice was Shay’s inside her head, and the other was that other voice she kept hearing.
This was getting complicated, like the dragon’s teeth she’d tried to imagine.
“Need to wake up,” she said.
“Oh, crap!” said the other voice.
At the same time, Shay was saying, “Stay where you are, Tally. I think I’ve got your feed located. You’re in the hospital, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Tally murmured. She recognized the hospital smell, even though the other voice was making it hard to concentrate. It was shouting stuff in a way that hurt Tally’s head. “I think she’s waking up! Someone get something to put her back down!” Blah, blah, blah . . .
“We’re close by,” Shay said. “
We figured you were somewhere in there. You’re scheduled for despecialization in an hour.”
“Oh, right,” Tally said, remembering now what she was supposed to do: escape from this place, which was going to be really difficult. Much harder than moving her fingertips. “Help, Shay-la.”
“Just hang on, Tally, and try to wake up! I’m coming for you.”
“Yay, Shay-la,” Tally whispered.
“But turn off your skintenna, now. If they’ve scanned you, they might be listening in. . . .”
“Okay,” Tally said, and as her fingers gestured, the voice in her head went quiet. The other voice was still shouting, still complaining in its worried way. It was starting to give Tally a headache.
“Doctor! She just said something! Even after that last dose! What the hell is she?”
“Whatever she is, this should keep her down,” someone else said, and sleepiness swept over her again.
So Tally went back to not thinking at all.
LIGHT
Consciousness returned in a burst of light.
Adrenaline shot through Tally, like waking up from a nightmare screaming. The world was suddenly diamond clear, as sharp as the teeth in her mouth, as bright as a spotlight in her eyes.
She sat bolt upright, breathing hard and clenching her fists tight. Shay stood at the end of the hospital bed, fiddling with the straps around her ankles.
“Shay!” she shouted. Tally felt everything so brilliantly she had to shout.
“That woke you up, didn’t it?”
“Shay!” Her left arm stung; someone had just given her a shot. Energy was boiling through her, all her fury and strength returned. She jerked one foot against an ankle strap, but the metal restraint held.
“Calm down, Tally-wa,” Shay said. “I’ll get it.”
“Calm down?” Tally muttered, her eyes scanning the room. The walls were lined with machines, all of them flickering with activity. In the room’s center was an operating tank, life-support liquid slowly gurgling into it, a breathing tube hanging loosely, waiting to be put to use. Scalpels and vibrasaws waited on a nearby table.
Lying on the floor were a pair of unconscious men in hospital scrubs—one a middle pretty, the other young enough to sport leopard spots all over his downy fur. At the sight of them, the past twenty-four hours came rushing back to Tally: Random Town, being captured, the threatened operation to make her average again.