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Walking Into Danger With Eyes Wide (PR RPM) part 8
Long part 8 is long.
Walking Into Danger With Eyes Wide
Part 8: Things That Shouldn't Be
It only took him a second or two to get over the stunned realization that one of his teammates was kidnapping him, and start fighting again. His parents had told him, when they'd been talking about Venjix Hybrids, that Dillon had been mind-controlled, programmed, more than once because of his implanted technology.
"Would you stop fighting me?" Dillon snapped.
"No," Ziggy replied. His safety was at stake, so he raised his voice. "No, I'm not." He was quicky beginning to realize that he probably didn't have enough strength to get loose, but he could get help.
"I'm taking you to Doctor K," Dillon told him. "When were you going to have that looked at, you moron?"
"What?" Ziggy asked. Dillon had to be under mind control; he seemed to have lost the ability to realize that he wasn't talking to his old teammate. As Dillon scowled more and started hauling him down the hallway, he screamed, counting on the fact that his parents would be able to hear. It wasn't a very good scream, but if it was loud enough, at least someone would come save him.
After a few seconds, he heard the thud of footsteps. "What are you doing, Dillon?" Flynn asked from behind them.
His father didn't even bother asking. "Dillon. Put Ziggy down, now."
"Did you notice, oh fearless leader, that your son forgot to report that he was injured during debriefing?" Even as upset as Dillon seemed to be, at least he put Ziggy down. That was good.
"That doesn't explain why you were carrying him off," Ziggy's mom said. Ziggy could easily imagine her, hands on hips, glaring at Dillon.
"He's injured, and him picking up Ziggy's bad habit of not reporting injuries is the last thing I need right now. You remember what happened last time Ziggy forgot to report an injury."
Whatever had happened, Ziggy found Dillon's grip on him tightening, so it had to be pretty bad.
"Then Summer and I will talk to him." His father's tone was firm. "You don't-"
"Scott, stop. Dillon, how badly is he injured?" his mother asked. Ziggy thought it was strange that she was asking Dillon and not him, but he was sure she had her reasons.
"Bruises, a concussion," Dillon answered curtly. "For sure."
"I think you should take him down to Doctor K's, then," Ziggy's mom said. "Ziggy, let Dillon take you down."
They weren't worried about mind control, then. Or him being mauled. Dillon didn't like him, he knew that for sure, but obviously his injury was a personal sore spot, and he wasn't about to protest. He was sure he didn't have a concussion, but he wasn't an expert. "Okay."
"Dillon, let him go, I'm sure he can walk there," his mom pointed out. "Just follow him, all right?"
"I was kind of heading that way anyway," he admitted. If he was injured worse than he thought, then at least he'd have someone to catch him.
"I don't believe you," Dillon said, still sounding damn angry.
"Ziggy wouldn't lie," Ziggy's dad said, and Ziggy was glad he was defending him.
"Right." Obviously, Dillon lead as much credence to his dad as he did him.
He could hear his mother make a noise that could have been a sigh. "Dillon, unless you're sure he can't stand on his own two feet, could you please let him go?"
There was silence behind him for a minute, and then she added, "Ziggy, how do you feel? Do you think you can make it?"
"Yeah." He was pretty sure of that. Why Dillon thought he had a concussion, he didn't know.
There must have been some glaring going on, because suddenly, Dillon let him go. "But if he collapses, I'm carrying him, and he's not going to like it," Dillon said. Ziggy made a mental note to not fall over in Dillon's sight in the near future.
On the other hand, the guy was talking to him. Sort of.
He headed down the hall towards Doctor K's lab. She looked up as the two of them entered, eyes narrowing as if wanting to know why they were daring to disturb her. "He's injured," Dillon said from behind him.
"When did the injury happen?" Doctor K asked, as if trying to find an excuse to toss them both out of her lab.
"Uh, during battle," Ziggy said. He wished it sounded less like a squeak, thinking of what she'd say to him.
She glared at him. "Move to the chair so I can scan you," she said, making a vague motion in that direction. "You can depart now, Dillon."
"I'll stay," Dillon said simply. Ziggy figured there was something Going On which would be explained to him at some point.
She let out a long, explosive sigh, and Ziggy, not wanting to get her angrier, moved to the chair. He stayed very still as she ran the scanner over him and then moved to her computer. "I am seeing nothing more than a bruise on your right leg, above the ankle. One that, fortunately, merely requires time and minor medical attention. Which does not excuse not reporting it to me."
That wasn't too bad. Sure, she was upset at him, but he'd make it up to her. Somehow.
"Enlighten me," she said, "As to why you did not."
"I forgot?" It really wasn't the real reason, but he didn't think she wanted to be told that he'd been embarrassed by the fact he'd gotten injured in the first place.
Doctor K exchanged a glance with Dillon, and then moved to one of her cabinets. "I'm going to do further testing," she said, much to Ziggy's surprise. "Please bare your lower left leg."
Without protest, he did that, though was curious on why. "What are you doing?" Ziggy asked.
"I am attempting to discover whether this failure is a result of a behavior that needs modifying, or an outside influence," she said shortly.
Whatever that meant. She came back with something else that she strapped onto his leg. She pressed a button, and he felt it humming against his bare skin. A beep later, and it was off and she was back at her computer.
"By testing my leg?" he asked.
"That is where the patches are," she said, not looking up. "If I am to determine if they have become reactivated, where else would I test?"
"Patches?" Ziggy asked. There were no patches there, as far as he could see.
"Against your fibula," she said, then looked up, catching his eye. "You carry the remains of a virulent Venjix hardware infection. You are not aware of this?"
"Um. No?" He didn't remember his parents saying anything about that. As far as he remembered.
Doctor K pinched the bridge of her nose. "While I can understand Scott and Summer's reluctance to expose you to a life of crime, I wish that they had informed you of that particular medical issue."
"I wish they had too," Ziggy said honestly. "Um, what happened? How did I get infected?"
He might as well dig it out of her while he had the chance.
"Several months before Ziggy Grover ceased to exist, he was injured in an attack which infected him with a self-generating Venjix hardware virus. Initially he failed to communicate this to me, and it was only at Dillon's insistence that he came to my lab for an exam. I had thought at the time that it was an isolated test, not one of Venjix's most common method of creating hybrids within the city." She looked at him. "I initially thought that removing the hardware would stop the infection, but it recurred a few weeks later. By the time I detected it, it had partially surrounded his fibula in an attempt to surround, dissolve and replace it. I was able to keep the growth rate down by the same antivirus downloads I was giving Dillon, but the location of it prevented complete removal. You carry only a few patches of the original growth because the rest of them dislodged when you became your current self, and could be removed."
So, parts of his leg had Venjix hardware in them, hardware that could be reactivated. He felt himself going pale and his dinner was doing its best to come out the wrong way. "Um."
"Yes?" she asked, still impatient.
"I think I'm going to throw up."
"Get him a trash can," she snapped at Dillon.
Dillon got one just in time, as he coughed the remains of his dinner into it. He was vaguely aware that not all of it made it neatly inside, but he didn't care as the slight stomach acid burned his throat.
He coughed, trying to get his mind around the fact that he could become like Dillon, full of Venjix hardware, controlled at times by a computer virus if the opportunity arose. There were a lot of people like Dillon in Corinth, because so many people had been infected and therefore had become part mechanical.
And then part of his history lessons came back to him. "But you eradicated all the infections with your cure," he said, with some relief, though he hoped to have some water soon. Regurgitated dinner with stomach fluids did not taste good.
"The cure didn't work as well for certain segments, of which you are part of," Doctor K said. "Which means that you will continue to be scanned regularly for signs of reinfection."
He was mentally thinking of how unfair that was. Of how he was fighting when he shouldn't have needed to, and risked getting turned into the enemy every time he ventured onto the battlefield.
Maybe he shouldn't be fighting at all. For the first time in his life, he considered running away. Not that he was sure about where he'd run, but he'd figure it out before leaving.
"That's why I wanted to bring him in," Dillon said to Doctor K.
"You were intending to prevent a potential recurrence of the virus," Doctor K replied. "Fortunately, it seems like this is a false - if useful - alarm. It seems that it is a case of adolescent irresponsibility that his original had mostly outgrown by the time he bonded to his morpher." She turned to Ziggy. "I expect, in addition to your other homework, that you will turn in a two-page essay by the end of this week on why you will report all injuries to me in the future."
Ziggy nodded. It seemed like a fairly small punishment. "Right." He wobbled up, tried to take a step, and decided sitting back down was a good idea. As he sat, he heard Doctor K paging his parents.
They didn't take long to arrive at all. "So, what's the diagnosis, Doc?" his father asked. His mother looked at him, as if unsure that it was okay to take him out of there.
"Fortunately, he only received bruises from the last battle and not a concussion," Doctor K said. "Unfortunately, during my examination of him, and explanation as to the nature of the inert infection in his leg, he proceeded to vomit. I believe he currently does not feel comfortable with standing up at the moment."
"Oh, Ziggy," his mom said, sounding horrified, and hurrying over to him. "Don't worry, we'll get something into you, and then you should go to bed. Water, at the very least, food if you can take it later."
He nodded, not quite trusting his voice at the moment. Of course, that was not the only thing he didn't quite trust. But he'd bring that up later, when he wasn't feeling so cruddy, and when he could have a rational discussion and not an argument about it with them about why they hadn't told him.
In the meantime, he was glad that he'd get out of Doctor K's lab. Soon.
Walking Into Danger With Eyes Wide
Part 8: Things That Shouldn't Be
It only took him a second or two to get over the stunned realization that one of his teammates was kidnapping him, and start fighting again. His parents had told him, when they'd been talking about Venjix Hybrids, that Dillon had been mind-controlled, programmed, more than once because of his implanted technology.
"Would you stop fighting me?" Dillon snapped.
"No," Ziggy replied. His safety was at stake, so he raised his voice. "No, I'm not." He was quicky beginning to realize that he probably didn't have enough strength to get loose, but he could get help.
"I'm taking you to Doctor K," Dillon told him. "When were you going to have that looked at, you moron?"
"What?" Ziggy asked. Dillon had to be under mind control; he seemed to have lost the ability to realize that he wasn't talking to his old teammate. As Dillon scowled more and started hauling him down the hallway, he screamed, counting on the fact that his parents would be able to hear. It wasn't a very good scream, but if it was loud enough, at least someone would come save him.
After a few seconds, he heard the thud of footsteps. "What are you doing, Dillon?" Flynn asked from behind them.
His father didn't even bother asking. "Dillon. Put Ziggy down, now."
"Did you notice, oh fearless leader, that your son forgot to report that he was injured during debriefing?" Even as upset as Dillon seemed to be, at least he put Ziggy down. That was good.
"That doesn't explain why you were carrying him off," Ziggy's mom said. Ziggy could easily imagine her, hands on hips, glaring at Dillon.
"He's injured, and him picking up Ziggy's bad habit of not reporting injuries is the last thing I need right now. You remember what happened last time Ziggy forgot to report an injury."
Whatever had happened, Ziggy found Dillon's grip on him tightening, so it had to be pretty bad.
"Then Summer and I will talk to him." His father's tone was firm. "You don't-"
"Scott, stop. Dillon, how badly is he injured?" his mother asked. Ziggy thought it was strange that she was asking Dillon and not him, but he was sure she had her reasons.
"Bruises, a concussion," Dillon answered curtly. "For sure."
"I think you should take him down to Doctor K's, then," Ziggy's mom said. "Ziggy, let Dillon take you down."
They weren't worried about mind control, then. Or him being mauled. Dillon didn't like him, he knew that for sure, but obviously his injury was a personal sore spot, and he wasn't about to protest. He was sure he didn't have a concussion, but he wasn't an expert. "Okay."
"Dillon, let him go, I'm sure he can walk there," his mom pointed out. "Just follow him, all right?"
"I was kind of heading that way anyway," he admitted. If he was injured worse than he thought, then at least he'd have someone to catch him.
"I don't believe you," Dillon said, still sounding damn angry.
"Ziggy wouldn't lie," Ziggy's dad said, and Ziggy was glad he was defending him.
"Right." Obviously, Dillon lead as much credence to his dad as he did him.
He could hear his mother make a noise that could have been a sigh. "Dillon, unless you're sure he can't stand on his own two feet, could you please let him go?"
There was silence behind him for a minute, and then she added, "Ziggy, how do you feel? Do you think you can make it?"
"Yeah." He was pretty sure of that. Why Dillon thought he had a concussion, he didn't know.
There must have been some glaring going on, because suddenly, Dillon let him go. "But if he collapses, I'm carrying him, and he's not going to like it," Dillon said. Ziggy made a mental note to not fall over in Dillon's sight in the near future.
On the other hand, the guy was talking to him. Sort of.
He headed down the hall towards Doctor K's lab. She looked up as the two of them entered, eyes narrowing as if wanting to know why they were daring to disturb her. "He's injured," Dillon said from behind him.
"When did the injury happen?" Doctor K asked, as if trying to find an excuse to toss them both out of her lab.
"Uh, during battle," Ziggy said. He wished it sounded less like a squeak, thinking of what she'd say to him.
She glared at him. "Move to the chair so I can scan you," she said, making a vague motion in that direction. "You can depart now, Dillon."
"I'll stay," Dillon said simply. Ziggy figured there was something Going On which would be explained to him at some point.
She let out a long, explosive sigh, and Ziggy, not wanting to get her angrier, moved to the chair. He stayed very still as she ran the scanner over him and then moved to her computer. "I am seeing nothing more than a bruise on your right leg, above the ankle. One that, fortunately, merely requires time and minor medical attention. Which does not excuse not reporting it to me."
That wasn't too bad. Sure, she was upset at him, but he'd make it up to her. Somehow.
"Enlighten me," she said, "As to why you did not."
"I forgot?" It really wasn't the real reason, but he didn't think she wanted to be told that he'd been embarrassed by the fact he'd gotten injured in the first place.
Doctor K exchanged a glance with Dillon, and then moved to one of her cabinets. "I'm going to do further testing," she said, much to Ziggy's surprise. "Please bare your lower left leg."
Without protest, he did that, though was curious on why. "What are you doing?" Ziggy asked.
"I am attempting to discover whether this failure is a result of a behavior that needs modifying, or an outside influence," she said shortly.
Whatever that meant. She came back with something else that she strapped onto his leg. She pressed a button, and he felt it humming against his bare skin. A beep later, and it was off and she was back at her computer.
"By testing my leg?" he asked.
"That is where the patches are," she said, not looking up. "If I am to determine if they have become reactivated, where else would I test?"
"Patches?" Ziggy asked. There were no patches there, as far as he could see.
"Against your fibula," she said, then looked up, catching his eye. "You carry the remains of a virulent Venjix hardware infection. You are not aware of this?"
"Um. No?" He didn't remember his parents saying anything about that. As far as he remembered.
Doctor K pinched the bridge of her nose. "While I can understand Scott and Summer's reluctance to expose you to a life of crime, I wish that they had informed you of that particular medical issue."
"I wish they had too," Ziggy said honestly. "Um, what happened? How did I get infected?"
He might as well dig it out of her while he had the chance.
"Several months before Ziggy Grover ceased to exist, he was injured in an attack which infected him with a self-generating Venjix hardware virus. Initially he failed to communicate this to me, and it was only at Dillon's insistence that he came to my lab for an exam. I had thought at the time that it was an isolated test, not one of Venjix's most common method of creating hybrids within the city." She looked at him. "I initially thought that removing the hardware would stop the infection, but it recurred a few weeks later. By the time I detected it, it had partially surrounded his fibula in an attempt to surround, dissolve and replace it. I was able to keep the growth rate down by the same antivirus downloads I was giving Dillon, but the location of it prevented complete removal. You carry only a few patches of the original growth because the rest of them dislodged when you became your current self, and could be removed."
So, parts of his leg had Venjix hardware in them, hardware that could be reactivated. He felt himself going pale and his dinner was doing its best to come out the wrong way. "Um."
"Yes?" she asked, still impatient.
"I think I'm going to throw up."
"Get him a trash can," she snapped at Dillon.
Dillon got one just in time, as he coughed the remains of his dinner into it. He was vaguely aware that not all of it made it neatly inside, but he didn't care as the slight stomach acid burned his throat.
He coughed, trying to get his mind around the fact that he could become like Dillon, full of Venjix hardware, controlled at times by a computer virus if the opportunity arose. There were a lot of people like Dillon in Corinth, because so many people had been infected and therefore had become part mechanical.
And then part of his history lessons came back to him. "But you eradicated all the infections with your cure," he said, with some relief, though he hoped to have some water soon. Regurgitated dinner with stomach fluids did not taste good.
"The cure didn't work as well for certain segments, of which you are part of," Doctor K said. "Which means that you will continue to be scanned regularly for signs of reinfection."
He was mentally thinking of how unfair that was. Of how he was fighting when he shouldn't have needed to, and risked getting turned into the enemy every time he ventured onto the battlefield.
Maybe he shouldn't be fighting at all. For the first time in his life, he considered running away. Not that he was sure about where he'd run, but he'd figure it out before leaving.
"That's why I wanted to bring him in," Dillon said to Doctor K.
"You were intending to prevent a potential recurrence of the virus," Doctor K replied. "Fortunately, it seems like this is a false - if useful - alarm. It seems that it is a case of adolescent irresponsibility that his original had mostly outgrown by the time he bonded to his morpher." She turned to Ziggy. "I expect, in addition to your other homework, that you will turn in a two-page essay by the end of this week on why you will report all injuries to me in the future."
Ziggy nodded. It seemed like a fairly small punishment. "Right." He wobbled up, tried to take a step, and decided sitting back down was a good idea. As he sat, he heard Doctor K paging his parents.
They didn't take long to arrive at all. "So, what's the diagnosis, Doc?" his father asked. His mother looked at him, as if unsure that it was okay to take him out of there.
"Fortunately, he only received bruises from the last battle and not a concussion," Doctor K said. "Unfortunately, during my examination of him, and explanation as to the nature of the inert infection in his leg, he proceeded to vomit. I believe he currently does not feel comfortable with standing up at the moment."
"Oh, Ziggy," his mom said, sounding horrified, and hurrying over to him. "Don't worry, we'll get something into you, and then you should go to bed. Water, at the very least, food if you can take it later."
He nodded, not quite trusting his voice at the moment. Of course, that was not the only thing he didn't quite trust. But he'd bring that up later, when he wasn't feeling so cruddy, and when he could have a rational discussion and not an argument about it with them about why they hadn't told him.
In the meantime, he was glad that he'd get out of Doctor K's lab. Soon.
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