Glitch

forward,
    unmoving. All the heart monitors around me were sound-
    ing, mine included.
    I lifted a hand weakly to the painful spot on my forehead
    182

    G L I TC H
    as I took in the surreal scene all around me. I leaned over
    and threw up. When I took my hand away from my head, I
    saw it was covered in blood. The red was so bright against
    the gray of my shirtsleeve.
    “Beta Ten Gamma Link,” I whispered. Then I passed out.
    183

Chapter 13
    i woke up in a strange medical center a day later, the
    Scheduled Subject Downtime program blaring in my brain.
    Community fi rst, Community always. Three long tones sounded,
    drowning out space for any other thought. The Commu-
    nity Creed repeated. The Community Link is peace. We are
    humanity sublime because we live in Community and favor above
    all else order, logic, and peace. Community fi rst, Community always.
    The harsh tones sounded in my head again, I knew the
    noises were supposed to be soothing or numbing, but they
    only exacerbated my headache. I looked around at the small,
    cold cubicle. I couldn’t hear much of anything beyond the
    horrible Link tones and mind- numbing mechanical voice
    that repeated the mantra over and over.
    A thermal blanket covered my body. I was sure it was
    keeping my body at the exact correct temperature, but it felt
    suff ocating. Between the invasion of the Link in my head
    and the sense of being strapped down to the bed by the
    blanket, I felt trapped. I wanted to scream and drown out
    the sound of the Link with my voice. I was the only one al-
    lowed inside my head!
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    G L I TC H
    Then I remembered— I had the passwords to get release.
    I started to whisper in a hoarse, rasping voice, “Beta Te—”
    A doctor stepped through the curtain. I turned to look at
    him and as I did, I felt the pull of the cable attached to my
    neck port. My eyes widened.
    I was plugged in. I was plugged in, and I’d almost whis-
    pered the words to disconnect me from the Link. The anom-
    aly would have been recorded on the equipment.
    Stupid! Now was not the time to be so careless. Who knew
    what else had shown up on the machines while I’d been un-
    conscious.
    The doctor wore the dull gray- red uniform of his profes-
    sion. I wondered morbidly if doctors wore red so the blood
    of their patients wouldn’t stain their clothes. He was tall and
    lean, with brown hair and a disproportionately long nose.
    He didn’t speak to me, but only picked up the tablet at
    the base of my bed. He touched the screen. Every second
    he spent clicking through the information and not speak-
    ing seemed like an eternity.
    I cleared my throat. “What is your assessment of my con-
    dition?”
    “Mild concussion, eight deep lacerations, internal contu-
    sions.” His voice was cold, uninterested. “Internal hardware
    has not suff ered any damage. Cellulo- reproductive accelera-
    tion gel has been applied to all lacerations. Healing rate is
    within normal pa ram e ters.” He fi nally looked up from the
    chart to me. “However, having accessed your historical bio-
    information, I fi nd anomalous activity.”
    185

    Heather Anastasiu
    Panic started to rise up in my throat like bile, but I choked
    it down. The last thing I needed now was for the monitor to
    go off when he was right here. He pulled back the thermal
    blanket. I felt chill bumps rise all over my arms at the rush
    of cooler air.
    His fi ngers were cold as he touched the small aluminum
    circle embedded in my chest. I had to stop myself from cring-
    ing. He clicked the top off of the coinlike circle and pulled
    a rodlike instrument from the belt around his waist.
    He touched the tip of the instrument to one of the tiny
    circuits. I felt a small shock that made an involuntary tremor
    run through my body. Was that was supposed to happen?
    Or did it prove I was anomalous?
    What ever it meant, the doctor’s face remained unread-
    able. He reattached the tool to his belt and left the room
    without another word. I looked down at my heart- monitor
    fl ap, still open to the air. I felt horribly exposed, but I
    didn’t want to rearrange the covers over myself and look
    even more anomalous. Why didn’t he say anything else
    before he left? What had the instrument showed? Could
    he tell something was wrong with me? The word he’d
    used echoed in my head, managing to drown out the Link:
    anomalous.
    I repeated the Community Creed along with the Link
    voice in my head to keep myself calm. The doctor fi nally
    came back