The Synergist

[Year 16 | 2268-69]

“Artur, you are now fifteen.”  It was exactly midnight; Artur had just been shaken awake by one of his instructors.  It was a big day set out for him: first, the removal of his Nanny chip, to be replaced by the Conscience chip, which effectively does the same job but with the added benefit of more usability for adults, along with harsher penalties for misdeeds.  Second, he would need to determine which cybernetic upgrades he wanted.  And, third, Artur must pass a test that he knew nothing about, other than if he passes, it guarantees him a future with YutopiCorp; if he fails, it ensures that he has no future.

The medic put Artur to sleep for the procedure.  While the swapping of chips was generally a seamless process, the Conscience chip does plug directly into the brain as a wired connection leaves less room for error than a wireless one.  And his requested upgrades before his mystery challenge require a little more finesse than simply plugging them in.

Artur’s first request was for a pair of tetrachromat eyes.  While ocular upgrades and enhancements are pricey, leaving most people to choose which eye to replace, all costs for those enrolled in the Extension Program for Talented Students are covered by YutopiCorp, enabling them to upgrade both eyes.  With this upgrade, Artur will be able to see a range of one hundred million colours, instead of the single million available to those with standard eyes.  Other added benefits of this upgrade include night vision and infrared sensors.

The second request was for the steel nerves.  A complicated process, and one that is out of reach for the common person, this upgrade would line all of Artur’s nerve endings in nanoparticles.  While this was designed to prevent nerve damage, it is most commonly used by medics and shinobi needing to enhance their fine motor skills to enable clean slices.  While many augmentations are allowed for the use in professional sports, the nerves of steel had been banned long ago, due to the fluidity of movements and pain reduction inherent with protecting the nerves.

His third and final request, and the only one to receive tacit approval from Artur’s instructor, was for metacarpal blades.  Illegal for anybody without an exemption, the installation of metacarpal blades requires the user’s fingers to be detached, allowing the metacarpal-phalangeal joint knuckles to be replaced before the fingers are reattached.  While Artur’s thumbs were unaffected, the knuckle between each finger and the hand can extend energy blades which easily slice through objects, as well as people.

That afternoon, Artur awoke from his anaesthetic slumber.  Still groggy, he was escorted to a secret location where his instructor and a number of people he didn’t recognise.  As he was ushered into an electrified cage, he asked his instructor what, exactly, this challenge was.

“Kill, or be killed.  It’s simple, really: just use your enhancements to destroy the biodroid before it destroys you.”

Artur watched as the restrained biodroid was led into the cage.  By all appearances, a hulking beast at seven feet tall by two feet wide, Artur didn’t have a clue how he was going to defeat it, or even where to start.  But he had learned enough through his studies to know that somewhere under all that muscle and fat is a robot that can be destroyed.

The biodroid clenched both fists together and swung at Artur, who blocked it with his arm.  He could feel the impact of the blow, but didn’t feel any real pain.  The biodroid hit him again.  And again.  With the same result.  Finally free of the attacks, Artur scanned the biodroid’s body, to find the robot deep inside its fleshy shell.  As the monster rushed at Artur, the boy clenched both fists, pointed them towards the biodroid, and rushed towards it.  As soon as his fists made contact with the biodroid’s blubbery belly, Artur pushed forward with all his strength, and then extended all eight energy blades.  As blood and lard exploded and then oozed from the body, the biodroid shorted out with a fizz.

“Wow, just as smart and aggressive as your dad!” his instructor told him.

“What?”  This was the last thing Artur had expected to hear.  “What was about my dad?”

“Uh, shit, sorry, kid.  It’s not often that we have a second generation come through the program,” the instructor responded.  “I take it that you’ll begin your wetworks training this year?”

Artur shook his head.  “No, thank you.  I was planning on enrolling in art.”