Time, such a silly thing it is. It keeps flowing even though you know it shouldn’t, well at least for me. Because time doesn’t flow for a dead man now does it. A dead man cant see it pass, cant hear the ticktock of the clock. So if you cant hear it and cant see it it doesn’t exist right.
No that is not the truth at all, time flows even slower for a dead man, a minuet is an hour an hour a week and a day is an eternity. Hundreds of years ago there was a scientific movement of belief, that said that if you did not see it or hear it it was not real. Those fools died honorably. I mean really who puts a blind and deaf community in the bowl of a dormant volcano. fools.
Now I sit on a ship, riding off to a contest reward of some kind. My helmet off so I can enjoy the peace of logical contemplation. No sight to see, no things to hear, only the synthesized drugs in my system allowing me to mechanically measure the nanoseconds to near the precision of an atomic clock.
It seemed a life time ago when I lost every thing, my sight my hearing my sense of smell, even my face. Serendipitously it all started with the loss of my soul.
I was a young upstart again, (too much time in sensory deprivation causes hallucination) I was at a meting with other docs disusing the development of the new drug I had devised. “There is no reason to not peruse this research, if I can refine the function of this drug it could help so many people” I said with a cocky air.
Across the table sat my boss, and mentor Dr. Stills. Responding he said, “you are not looking at the whole picture here kid, if this works the way you says it does then we should never make it functional. hell the emotional dampening effects are enough to cause you some pause, let alone the idea of functional half robot super soldiers. The debates over the rational of AI are enough to have the people of earth in an uproar, and you want to give them robotic replacement parts. That’s lunacy kid just plain lunacy.” With that said the old doc rolled back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk. An age old sine that he would not budge on the subject.
“Fine then ill take my research to the moon, or some where else, some where that wants people to have a full life.” Those were my last words to my mentor. He died 3 weeks later in a protest boming.
After the bomming I found myself obsesed with my studdies. Through a glitch in the system my research funding went through, and i took the opertunity to continue my work. The only problem was I was sure that if i asked for subjects for testing of my new drug, I would be found out as a loop hole and end up lossing the project all together. That left me with one option, self exparamentation. At first I used the greese to allow me to control a simple vacuming robot, and to give me a boost in a few high level math classes that i auditided. After a whilde though I found myself taking it all the time for little things. When my funding money ran out I did not aply again, my parianoia growing to monumental proportions. Looking back I could have submited my work then, but didn’t. I took a job as a sergon at a local hospital where I earned experiance with damaged limbs and amputations. All the time perfecting the grease. 2 years later I released a paper sighting falsified studdie records of volentere subjects that used the grease to aleveate the strain on simple limb robotic prosthetics. The Real subjects were inner city kids with sivere injuries that would never be able to afford the treatments I gave. 5 years later I am on the cover of forbs magizine as the father of modern cybernetics. I had produced the first true human controled robotic implant. Those on top of the world cant see the ground crumbeling beneith them.
With in the next year 3 of the children with my implant adaptations, out grew them, and this caused imense phisical pain. One of them died from it. One restoration surgery was suscessfull, but the second failed. Again a protest bomb blew up the hospitals power transformer, and my equipment could not run on the now small hospitals emergancy suply of power. Let alone the fact that while on grease one of the sidefects is slow down around areas of decreased electricial activity. In pervious blackouts I have actualy blacked out aswell. I am still not sure if that is a psychosomatic reaction or a phiseologicilogical. Needless to say I slowed down… and the patient died.
I lost my job but they couldent prove that I was using at the time of the surgery because it leaves the system in 24 hours and the lab had been damaged in the explosion. At this point my luck had started to form a patern. I went into hiding, for 2 more years, hiding in seedy motels and selling my grease on the streets to make ends meet.
One night I was working in my lab and a bunch of armed men barged into my room and carried in a wounded man. He had been shot, the bullet was lodged just lilimeters from his heart. I had no choice. When I was finished I was cleanning my hands and one of the “wise guys”