“Dear Empress, is this really necessary?” I look to the reception area of the hospital and there are six thugs in the freaking place.
“I do think the doctor is being a little ridiculous, but considering he is our only dedicated doctor Track, the Boss didn’t have a problem with it.” Marcella grimaces at something in her mind and moves on.
“But you and Bell both agree that I’m getting better with my anger management!” I protest, some distinct whining leaking into my voice. Ugh, teenagers and stupid hormones.
“While that’s true, you’re better and faster with your violence as well. Though I doubt Jack would allow clear lines of movement between you and him again without you being restrained.” She smirks at that. I get the feeling that she doesn’t call him Jack because she likes him.
Goon set number one walks up to us and searches me for weapons. They pat my arms and legs and the female wipes down my torso. I’m still weirded out by the touching, but getting a female goon to do it was a considerate choice.
Marcella told me to prep for today with a sports bra and compression shorts so that when they ask me to take my clothes off, I’m less self-conscious about it because these are basically my workout clothes. They have me disrobe in an anteroom of a radiology suite where they have me stand in something like an airport scanner.
The next room has a bunch of machines in it and a pair of chairs with wing arms that currently have thugs on either side.
“Let me guess, hop in the chair, and those straps are to tie me to the chair?” One goon nods and the other explains.
“Doctor’s orders. You are not to have your hands free when he is in the room with you.” I shrug in response and hop in the chair. My mentor sags in relief and I instantly feel sad that I’ve caused her that much worry over this.
Mook and Ook strap down my arms and then they put a belt strap around my belly and tighten it enough that it wouldn’t be able to slide over my ribs or my hips. This freaking sucks. “Not panic inducing at all, tied down, half naked in a room full of men and I’m about to meet the pervy doctor. Who would be nervous?” I mumble to myself.
Marcella walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Don’t worry Kimber, I can kill everyone in this room before they can second guess touching you.” She whispers in my ear. “Not that it helps with your anxiety now, but you’re going to have to deal today.”
Once the goons double-check my restraints, they signal to the Doc that he’s as safe as he’s going to get.
“I believe I demanded a muzzle?” Renfroe said with a smirk.
“Feeling confident now that her hands are tied?” Marcella asks, picking underneath her nails with a throwing knife that appeared like magic. “Did you bring the paper she asked for?”
“You were serious about that? Why can’t she just do as she’s told?!” He’s visibly frustrated with our need to be informed, as though he isn’t the one wasting time right now.
My frustrations get the better of me. “So you don’t think I should read research that would convince me that believing in belief as a treatment is believable? Isn’t that the whole point of reinforcing my treatment? Knowing it’s going to work better? Why cant you take off these restraints and just take my word that I won’t attack you for being a creepy asshole? The restraints are just a waste of time for your insecurity right?”
“Kimber, enough.” My mentor says calmly, “and Jack, you’re going to send me the research. I want everything that helps her training and the results at initialization. Can you do as you are told? Or should I find ways to convince you?”
I watch the doctor’s face melt from anger to fear as he nods that he can, in fact, do as he’s told.
“Good, now let’s move to the next task so we never have to see you again.”
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The doctor moves to a cart near my chair and starts explaining that he needs to take several vials of blood and inspect my ankles and wrists again. Marcella then hands me my tablet with a few search queries queued up to explain what they’re searching for with a link to documents about the Placebo affect and a study of studies (is that really a thing?) collating results about the brain’s ability to manifest and reinforce desired results.
There was also a report to Macella’s bosses rife with data and medical jargon, it was not a casual read. The recommendations section was written in plain language a 12 year old could understand. Looking up the jargon in the recommendations for the mental reinforcement, and looking at the data presented in the analysis section, I find out why the suggestion is important. Pre-system medical data shows that the brain can manifest symptoms and are called ‘somatic effects’. Combine that with the very well documented system choices that are tailored to ability and User desires, reinforced hope can actually be a course of action. Now, he goes on to couch his theory by saying that the semi-dormant nanites in children are not usually as responsive, so the results may be lessened significantly. Huh. The more you know.
Before long, Renfroe disappears into the back room again and the guards start to release my restraints. They wait patiently while I put my clothes back on and escort us to the waiting room of the hospital. The thugs at the doors give me back my knives and we’re headed back to the van in the parking lot.
As we settle into the van with a driver, I wonder how much that little escapade cost Marcella. Then I think of the cost of getting that many thugs to an off-site location and embarrassment and shame flood my system.
“I’m sorry for all the hassle I’m causing you. Hiring those goons couldn’t have been cheap, and you’re probably tired of my attitude too.” My voice wavers as I apologize as tears well up in my eyes. Is this where she tells me that I’m spending too much money? That I’m not worth the extra effort? My heart starts thundering again as I worry about my future.
“Mm, they were more than I wanted to spend. So what I need for you to do is to stop living moment to moment like you have been. Like the doctor’s notes said, your nanites might be fighting your progress because you’re not thinking of your future development enough to believe in what we’re doing.
“This new dose schedule is going to mess with you, Kimber. As your mood is already at the edge of tolerable, you need to start discussing your feelings and thoughts and worries with Belle and me. If you start taking to the hormones and a new mass-building regiment, you won’t be able to have violent outbursts anymore. If you kill someone in training, it’s over.”
I flush again in embarrassment as the accident last month with one of my sparring partners almost ended with his death. I surged at a lewd comment he made toward me and I ended up punching him in the neck. He needed a tier 2 med injection to fix the spine damage and the bruising on his brain stem or something. I was too busy panicking to remember what his injuries ended up being except that he almost died.
“I am trying you know.” I must sound pitiful.
“I know. You’re trying to manage your emotions and issues alone, and it’s not working. I hired Belle for a reason, Kimber. Also, it feels ungrateful and selfish that you aren’t sharing more with me. You don’t have to hide how young, inexperienced, afraid, or uncertain you are from me. I guarantee I’ve felt the emotions you are feeling, and though my experiences can never be the same as yours, I still have more experience with them and just maybe, I can help you feel less alone in what you’re feeling.”
By the time she stops I have the sniffles and my face is leaking. “Gods, this rollercoaster sucks.” I wipe my eyes again, “Who thought further unbalancing a teenager’s hormones was a good idea?” I awkwardly laugh but the wetness continues to dribble down my face.
“Seems like you needed a cry. Your girl’s going to be sad she missed the opportunity to comfort you.”
I sniff, “I still don’t understand how she can think that. I mean, I feel bad when she’s hurting, but I don’t feel guilty when . . . oh, that’s something I probably should feel guilty about. I should be there to help her through tough times after all.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it too much. Part of what I’ve been paying Belle to do is subdue her strife some. Now wait, before you get angry, she still tells you what’s bothering her, she’s just downplaying the severity a little bit.”
“That’s not better Marcella!”
“It’s not, but it’s been effective. Think of it this way: the more you share in the future and show control over your emotions, the less Belle will have to downplay hers to focus on you. She’s your girlfriend, sure, but she also has a job to do. While you talk to her about the ramifications of that revelation, talk to her about how your volatility is about to increase.”
I scream in frustration. “Could you not try teaching me lessens when I’m fucking crying?!” The car got quiet. The driver’s knuckles are white and my mentor’s features are tight as she glares at me from the side of her eyes.
“We are definitely going to talk about that when we get home.”
Gods damn it. I definitely stepped to far on that one. I still blame her a little for chastising me when I’m vulnerable, but I really should be able to control myself better.