Page 7 of Cyborg's Tether
She blinked rapidly, trying to suppress tears. “Like...it could perceive cold when it’s actually hot. Or, um, maybe—maybe it’s feeling a sensation it shouldn’t be... uh...feeling at all?”
Silence settled over the room. Even the air systems seemed to hum louder than usual.
One of the officers, the same man who had impatiently prompted her earlier, sighed audibly. “I’m sorry, but I’m not following any of this.”
Her throat constricted, and her hands trembled when she attempted to recalibrate her thoughts. Dr. Vex stepped forward with a kind smile. “Perhaps we can discuss this further after a break,” she said, her tone gentle.
Amaya nodded mutely, feeling the weight of failure heavy on her chest. As the meeting broke, and the others began to chat amongst themselves, she caught snippets of their confusion.
“What was she trying to say?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe she’s just not cut out for this.”
Amaya slumped into the nearest chair, cheeks burning. She wanted to disappear, to rewind the last thirty minutes and erase the garbled mess she’d made of her presentation. Instead, she pulled her datapad close, staring at the data with a sinking heart. She had the information—she knew she did—but translating it into something understandable seemed like an impossible task.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Amaya stood in the sterile lab staring at the holographic display of cyborg schematics floating before her, thinking about how disastrous the meeting had been even with Dr. Vex helping her prepare. She’d ended up garbling everything and leaving all the techs and her superiors more confused. Dr. Vex had kindly suggested she refine the presentation and try again tomorrow. The meeting had continued while Amaya sat quietly in the corner, burning with humiliation.
Only focusing on work helped her move past it, and she’d fled to her workroom after the meeting, having been there ever since. She touched the holographic interface, manipulating the intricate web of neural pathways and cybernetic components as she tried to discern the cause of the malfunctions. While zooming in on a particular junction, a frown creased her brow. Something wasn’t right. “Computer, run a diagnostic on neural pathway 7-B-4-2.”
The system complied, and numbers and graphs flashed across the screen. She watched it appear, absorbing the data. Her frown deepened. “Increase magnification by two hundred percent.”
The image zoomed in even more, revealing microscopic fissures in the neural relays. Amaya’s pulse jumped. This could be the source of the malfunction.
She turned to her datapad as she typed out her findings, but when she read over her report, her excitement faded. The technical jargon was clunky and impenetrable. How could she explain this to her superiors in a way they’d understand? Dr. Vex and the other researchers would likely grasp it, but the administrators didn’t necessarily have a strong scientific background.
Amaya sighed. She needed to make this clear. Lives depended on it.
The lab door hissed open, and Xavier’s imposing form filled the doorway. His mismatched eyes—one organic, one cybernetic—fixed on Amaya. “Good afternoon, Technician Kaffey.”
She smiled but trembled inside, recalling how he’d impassively listened to her report earlier, looking as confused as everyone else—and that was with the accelerated processing power his new cyborg brain gave him. “Please, call me Amaya.”
He inclined his head. “I have come to see if I can be of assistance to help clarify what you were trying to relay earlier.Dr. Vex told me I’d find you here working on malfunctions. Any progress?” he asked, his voice almost booming in the small space.
She swallowed hard, unexpectedly affected in a physical way—not fear—by his deep baritone. “Yes, I think I’ve found something. There are micro-fissures in the neural relays that could be causing feedback loops in the cyborg’s sensory input.”
Xavier’s brow creased. “Explain.”
Amaya took a deep breath. “It’s like...imagine if your nerves were sending conflicting signals to your brain. You might feel hot and cold at the same time, or see things that aren’t there.”
“And this is happening to the malfunctioning cyborgs during the cyber-conversion?”
“I believe so, but I need to run more tests to be sure.”
He slowly nodded. “How do we fix it?”
She hesitated. This was the part she dreaded. How could she explain the complex procedure she had in mind? “We need to recalibrate the neural pathways. It’s a delicate process. We’ll have to shut down certain systems temporarily and...”
She trailed off, noting the confusion in Xavier’s expression. Frustration bubbled up inside her. Why couldn’t she make him understand? “It’s complicated,” she finished lamely.
Xavier’s cybernetic eye glowed slightly brighter. “I see. Perhaps you could prepare a more detailed report for the team briefing tomorrow?”
She nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and renewed dread as she imagined the meeting again. “Of course. I’ll have it ready.”
As he turned to leave, she called out, “Wait.”
He paused, looking back at her.