“So. She’s been found.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Todd paused. “Wait. She’s alive, right?”
“For the moment.” An Oreo temporarily prevented Gus from clarifying that statement. Then he continued, mid-crunch. “She’s at Christchurch hospital in their ICU.”
“That bad?”
“Not necessarily. As she’s obviously unresponsive, they’ll be monitoring her the same way they would a coma patient.” Another biscuit suffered the same fate. It seemed to give him time to think cheery thoughts. “Unless her kidneys or liver shut down.”
“Oh, maaan,” Terrin offered. “You think that’s likely?”
“Easily fixed with artificial organs. Why do you think I eat so much?”
Terrin looked appalled. As well he should. Todd had never heard of someone using the service as an all-you-can-eat buffet before.
“I just thought that was, like, a mental dis—“
“So what’s next?” Todd interrupted hastily.
“Hm? Oh, yes. Arline. Well, finding her body and getting her to medical attention has bought us time for the more difficult task of returning her consciousness.” He separated two biscuit halves and licked at the icing.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Surely now that you’ve got access to her suit you can hack into its processing unit,” Todd said uncertainly.
Both Gus and Terrin both made derisive noises.
“Dude, you are so not my brother. How could you not know the most basic shit? A suit is a closed circuit that takes care of the body while the mind goes bye-bye. Its coding is the equivalent of an old-style keyboard in that it keeps the brain connected to the body but is effectively a slave to the network’s mainframe.”
“Somewhat correct,” Gus said absently, focused on a bit of icing that was resisting its consumption. “In its most basic terms.”
Terrin held up his hand for a high five, which Gus accepted reluctantly.
Todd caught his brother wiping his hand down his hip surreptitiously. The programmer’s hands must be sticky.
“I really want to go to the hospital and check she’s okay.”
Terrin made kissy-kissy noises. “And wake the fair maiden from her unnatural slumber,” he said melodramatically; hands clasped in rapture as he rocked forward onto his toes.
“Shut it.”
“You go there if it makes you feel better.” Gus reached into the bag for another biscuit and grimaced in disappointment when he discovered it empty. “But I would think you’d be more interested in helping save Arline’s mind rather than her body.” One brow rose. “After all, isn’t that the most important thing?”
Terrin sniggered. “Schooled!”
Todd ground his teeth. Little bro was going to see the front end of his fist if he kept this up.
Gus stood up suddenly and straightened into an attitude of military attention. Or as military as you can get when your gut precedes your chest.
“In the late, great words of the wizard Sir Ian McKellen…” His voice deepened portentously. “‘The battle for Arline’s body is over; the battle for her intellect is about to begin.’”
“You know that wasn’t in the book, don’t you?”
“Shut it, Terrin.”