Illianya Ch. 04: Climax

After a short while the doctor closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling through her nose. "Okay, sorry, just... it really annoys me how little they think about how dangerous gifts can be sometimes."

The doctor's expression became dead-serious and she stared directly into Illianya's eyes. "They also underestimated that poor girl's ability. She... her body produces an immense amount of the gas if she's under intense stress. Waiting for you both to recover, I reviewed a copy of both of your files. I watched the test recordings."

The doctor paused again, and her hands begin shake. "They... they strapped her into the isolation chamber, which already was terrifying the poor girl enough, and had monitors displaying feeds from each of those crates. Forced her to watch as they pumped the gas she exhaled into each crate."

The lady was now spitting her words through clenched teeth. "Those fuckers tortured her—forced her to watch what her body did to those volunteer subjects. Just to push her farther and drain every last drop from her that they could. Well they messed up, cause her body went into overdrive and pumped out more than the tanks could store. Shrapnel damaged some transmitters and sent the whole system into fritz."

Her face suddenly was overcome with grief and she grabbed Illianya's hand. "You are so lucky that you weren't killed. I didn't read much about your gift, but whatever you did was something new, no record of it before in your results, and all they noted after was a surprising discovery. No mention of the catastrophe, just 'Inciting event caused subject to display exceptional ability yadda yadda yadda,'" she trailed off mockingly.

"And it was exceptional my dear!" came a booming voice from the doorway.

The lady quickly stood back up and gave the intruder a quick bow. "Yes sir, yes it was. Forgive me, I just was..." she began to apologize but was cut off.

"It's fine dear, I understand your frustration. But discovery requires sacrifice, by testing our limits we can overcome them," the man lectured as he approached the foot of Illianya's bed.

A man of average height, medium build, and wearing an extremely expensive looking dark-blue suit. It shimmered as he moved, the fabric no doubt genuine silk interweaved with some sort of precious metal or mineral. His tan skin was perfect, probably a vat-grown replacement, free of imperfections.

He wrapped his hands around the railing of the bed and leaned towards her. The tell-tale soft tinging as his fingers made contact hinted that they were Nevo-limbs; replacements or upgrades made of lightweight polymers and extremely expensive. Staring into his eyes she saw a hint of wiring and electronics, barely perceptible behind the white glossy pulp of his eyeballs. Most of him seemed to be fake.

A ragged crag stretched from cheek to cheek, a greasy smile worn like a mask—he wanted something from her.

"Miss Yotle, would you mind excusing us while I have a chat with Miss Tetsin?"

"Well, I, she..." Miss Yotle stumbled, "I was in the middle of checking her bios, she just woke up sir."

"I'm a busy man, I don't have much time to waste, and anyways, I'm sure she's fine. Please, step out of the room," The man said more forcefully.

Another, much larger, and broader, man stepped into the room and waved at her to follow him out. Miss Yotle gave Illianya an apologetic look as she defeatedly trudged out of the room.

"Good. Yes, well, you look fine dear," the man chuckled, turning his attention back to Illianya. "This facility is the best, so I have no doubt any recovery will be quick."

Illianya wasn't sure if she should respond and instead just nodded.

He clapped his hands suddenly, making Illianya flinch. "On to the matter at hand. Earlier, you were involved in a... complication," he started, beginning pace across the room. "No damage was caused to any persons involved, so it ended happily, I should say." He turned back to her, "Don't you agree?"

"Yes sir," she responded, still trying to determine who this big-shot was. Maybe a faculty dean or admin person, doing some accident follow-up or something.

"Good, yes. That is right. No one was hurt, so no foul," he said, pacing back towards her.

That struck a nerve and she glared at him. "No. There was harm done, that girl. They tortured her. Their mistake almost killed me!"

In a flash of movement, he was above her, presence now seeming to consume the entire room. "No. Harm. Was. Done. You are fine. You are being cared for in one of the best medical facilities outside the rim," he spoke in a hushed, menacing tone. Every syllable an attack. "Look, girl. I am not here for a check-in, that much is obvious. You will not speak of this event to any media. You will not seek damages, mental or otherwise, from the institution. If you do take any actions against the institution for events that may or may not have happened, we will deny it and your scholarship will be revoked."

"But others know, Miss Yotle has..." she began to reply.

His fist rushed past her face and slammed into the wall beside her. "What Miss Yotle says does not matter, What you say will not matter, We have the money to make this disappear, but with your cooperation, we will not need to waste funds on tiring exploitations from disenfranchised whores who decide that they can blame an academic institution for failing grades and poor behavior." Anger radiated from him, the heat from his breath uncomfortably close.

Her heart raced, fear choked the air from her as his words sank in. "They would burn me and destroy my life just to protect the university's reputation," she thought, trembling.

He still hovered over her, expectantly. "Yes sir, nothing happened," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"Very good. Smart choice, girl." Still uncomfortably close to her face. "If anyone asks, just say it was your time of the month or something. School stress. I don't know, just don't say anything about the accident. Okay?" he said in a quiet tone. When Illianya kept her eyes down and didn't reply he growled more forcefully. "Okay?"

"Okay Sir," she whimpered, her cracking voice barely audible below the humming monitors.

The man pulled away from her face slightly. "Good," he huffed, straightening his suit. "I really would hate to see a promising, intelligent and..." he paused, looking her over, smiling coyly, "Gorgeous girl such as yourself throw their life away for an insignificant matter like this." Smirking, he traced a curled finger under her chin as he stood up.

She recoiled from the alarmingly cold feeling of the prosthetic limb. It caused his smile to stretch even wider. The man drank in her body one last time and Illianya drug the covers up over her chest in an attempt to hide herself. He let out a short, hardy laugh and turned to the door.

With a snap of his fingers, he yelled out of the room. "Jort, Landly, we're done here, let's go deal with those other three the half-cells let into the lab."

The door creaked open and Miss Yotle tried to make her way towards Illianya, a distressed and worried look across her face, but the man caught her around the shoulders and smoothly ripped the tablet from her hands.

"Actually Miss Yotle, my dear, I unfortunately will have to confiscate this from you, and Jort will need a few moments to ensure no confidential information regarding this matter is contained on your office access-port. Would you mind escorting us so to expediate the process? I do not want to waste any more of my time with this trivial matter." He gripped her shoulders and directed her out of the room.

Miss Yortle flashed Illianya a sympathetic glance over her shoulder as she was pulled from the room. One of the other men, Jort or Landly, pulled the door closed, but not before raising a finger to his lips and making a 'shushing' gesture at Illianya.

The door slammed shut and Illianya was alone with the beeping machine once again. She began to weep.