First Draft

by Cherry Rie

Imitation of Life

All the King’s Horses
A Conversion Bureau story.

Chapter Nine: Imitation of Life

Nurse Malini Kellcor drew a long steadying breath as she leaned heavily on the polished chrome railing.

While this was only a trial of circumstance, being that they were presently short of staff to deal with the sudden arrivals, it would be a big step forward in both her career and personal experience. Giving up on her overly ambitious dreams of a scholarship, she had worked hard to secure the posting at Portland and had been patiently awaiting a chance to prove herself.

Thus she was faced with a troubling dilemma. On the one hand, this was the first examination Doctor Malcolm had entrusted her with since she passed grade one citation. Going to him for help would prove she simply wasn’t ready for a greater role. But the truth was that the poor nurse was far out of her depth.

Firstly, the woman had no prior medical record, a virtual impossibility in this age of genetic tagging at birth. By all rights, or at least as far as the system was concerned, this ‘woman’ did not exist. Perhaps it was down to some security blackout? It wasn’t unheard of for important business figures to have their details wiped before heading for conversion, they had manual forms for just that eventuality. But this didn’t help her with the second sticking point, in that she did not have the faintest clue where to start.

What to do? Fudge it and hope it past muster? Or get the doctor and hope he was just as stumped as she was?

Falsifying the data sheet was out of the question. A humble nurse she may be, but Malini still had moral standards to which she adhered. With a determined grumble the Latino girl straitened her pristine white scrubs and walked back through the double doors of the small secure corridor. Several doors led off to five small exam rooms, within which five new candidates were being checked out before their allocation to one of the twelve live-in clinics. Slight twinge of fear set aside for the moment, Malini approached room three and knocked gently.

--

Turning irritably from his awkward patient, Doctor Malcolm rubbed his temples and approached the source of the interruption. This young girl was giving him no end of trouble. First she wouldn’t undress for the physical, then she couldn’t provide a single straight answer to any of his questions. He had just been in the process of testing the reactions in her right leg (and somehow causing her left leg to twitch instead) when a tentative rap at the door drew him away from the infuriating melodrama.

“Enter.” he announced.
Momentarily thankful for the distraction, his relief fled as a worried face appeared from around the door frame.

“Sorry to disturb you, doctor.” Malini said, as politely as she dared, “But I wonder if I might get a second opinion.”

“It’s a physical exam,” came the grumbled reply “what could you possibly need a second opinion for?”

Nervously glancing back into the corridor, the nurse debated whether to outright say ‘I’ve not a clue where to start’.

“Well sir... you’d best come have a look.”

Sceptical though he was, the good doctor had long ago come to the conclusion that he was surrounded by incompetents and his ego was more than willing to verify this judgment.

“Very well. Miss Salve could you finish up here?”

Without waiting to hear an answer from the equine assistant, the doctor departed in a vicious stride, all but slamming the door in his wake.

From her vantage point perched atop the examination table, Kat watched with a wry smile.

“What a nice man.” She commented, turning her attention to the nearby unicorn.

Soothing Salve nodded conspiratorially before marking something down on a touch-sensitive tablet.

“Doctor Malcolm is quite distinguished in his profession. Sadly that says nothing for his bedside manner. Do you think we could get this exam out of the way before he comes – Oh.”

Salve paused for a moment, train of thought thoroughly derailed at the sight of Katrina disrobing. Nudity was not much of a problem for any pony. Though humans tended to hide behind layer upon layer of cloth, clothes were considered an optional and occasionally risqué extra in Equestria.

But while the teen’s sudden exposure would have caused little more than a raised eyebrow at the speed and stealth at which it had been accomplished, the scars gave rise to a much greater pause. She had known what lay beneath was bad, having tended to her most recent wounds during their journey. What was now revealed was the extensive mishmash of livid wounds and scarring beneath slowly uncoiling bandages. Fresh striations covered every patch of virgin skin on her arms, lined up like soldiers returning from war. Across her chest and stomach were innumerable blackened brands, some small like pinpricks, others shaped by red hot iron.

As the last of the dressings fell away, Salve walked carefully around the thin girl, observing the sanguine lashes across her back and the friction sores circumventing her ankles and wrists. Without knowing any better she could have mistaken the girl for the victim of some explosion or building collapse. Sadly the year or so that she had spent in this Alien world had taught the mare much about the strange depravity rife throughout the underbelly of human society.

Levitating the pad and pen, the unicorn began to take down notes about the extensive prior injuries. With little more than regular anti-carcinogen injections detailed in her medical history, the pony would have to note down as much as possible in order to bring the documents up to date. After taking measurements, weight and blood samples, Salve finally sat the girl down again to help her redress the more recent wounds. By this time, the equine had begun to tune out much of the horrendous damage, adopting an almost meditative state while working. Entirely in a world of her own, it took a pail olive hand waving in front of her face to bring the pony’s attention back to reality.

“Hmm? Sorry dear, I missed that entirely.”

Smiling down at the quiet unicorn, Kat repeated the lost question. “I said, you’ve seen this kind of thing before, haven’t you?”

“I wish I could say I haven’t,” Salve admitted, avoiding eye contact as she applied a cooling anaesthetic patch to the sores. “But my Dam taught me never to lie even if the truth was bad.”

Kat sighed happily, dressing her arm as though in a day dream. “None of it matters anymore soon enough. In a week or so, I’ll be gone, and there’ll be somepony better walking around in my place.”

Not for the first time since meeting the odd girl, Salve tilted an ear in a questioning manner, unsure whether the teen was serious or not. “Dear, I don’t think you quite understand how conversion works.”

“I understand better than most.” Kat replied, remaining attentive to her dressing and ignorant to her audience’s reaction.

“When we first came to live in the Americas we lodged with a man named Paul. Never got his second name actually, maybe that was purposeful on his part. Anyway, Paul was the gentlest soul I’d ever met, but only because of the guilt he’d lived with. When he was little, barely three years old, he accidently killed his youngest sibling. Dirty diapers went in the recycling shoot and clean ones came out of the top draw in their bedroom. So he was quite surprised when he opened the draw to find only diapers in there and no baby brother. But however awful it was, that one event made him into the kindest man I have ever known. He was careful, thoughtful in everything he said and did and wouldn’t even hurt a fly, even if the fly was hurting him.”

“He was in the first wave of people to be converted. When the pony that claimed to be him came back to us, the first thing he said was ‘I’m so happy, I can finally forgive myself’. True, Blue Buck was very nice, but only in the way that all ponies are. That gentle giant was gone.”

“I don’t know if ponies are born with souls, but humans aren’t. We earn ours. Through trial, suffering and victory, we are shaped by the world around us. But to take away anguish is to take away the seat of our soul. Maybe the pony who got up afterwards was a better ‘person’, but that which made Paul undeniably human was gone in a puff of smoke. If that isn’t death, true death, then this world holds no horrors.”

Soothing Salve remained silent as she pinned the last fresh bandage into place, realising for the first time why Kat always seemed so happy despite herself. Before her departure into this wild world, the little pony had taken a crash course in human maladies, both of the body and of the mind. One concept in particular seemed ungraspable to her and the other Equestrians. Suicide.
Beyond all reason, the notion that life could become so traumatic as to leave death the only escape. It was enough to move even the hardiest of stallions to weep for the countless millions still clinging to existence. Such was the collective insanity of the naked ape.

Kat had not come to the Bureau to be converted; conversion was just her ‘chosen method’.

She had come here to die.

--

Sounds carried a long way in the cavernous entrance hall, gentle hoof steps and chatter providing continual background music to the thoughts of two figures stood upon the balcony. Malcolm took another long drag from the nicotine laced paper roll, watching the burnt embers fall away from its tip with a mixture of disappointment and relief. Three whole days he’d been clean, but it was a good job he’d kept a few sticks on hand. Though smoking was barred in the clean confines of the Bureau, any Black clad guard wishing to press the matter would have met their match in the highly strung Doctor.

Judging her timing, Nurse Malini cleared her throat carefully and made a foray into disputed territories.

“Explains the heavy clothing at least.” She tried, the ‘humf’ of indifference informing her that the first part of no-man’s-land had been successfully traversed.

“So. What do we do?”

In a rare show of patience, Malcolm didn’t press the woman about the informal nature of the question.

“... We do nothing.”

Malini startled, “There’s no way the Black-Mesh are prepared for something like this. Even unarmed she’s dangerous, practically a walking weapon.”

“If it wasn’t meant to be here, then it would have never past the front doors.” Resigned the doctor, blowing a steady stream of smoke into the unsullied air.

Casually letting the spent stick fall from his fingers, Malcolm rubbed out the last embers with his heal and stalked back through the double doors.

“No one has access to that kind of hardware anymore. You’d be lucky to see one guarding the highest security personal vaults, never mind acting bodyguard for some gangly slip of a girl. My reckoning is that our other visitor is the daughter of a C.O. hiding from the retribution of the masses. Chances are there’s a whole mess of corporation bullshit just waiting to drop on us the moment we start poking around.”

Reaching the exam room door, the doctor stepped inside and made a beeline for the tablet on the work bench, deliberately trying to ignore the figure stood before the consol at the far end.

Unlike her tutor though, Malini couldn’t avert her gaze from the construction of flesh and steel. Despite its doll like features, the smooth head was the most visually human aspect of the creature. Below shoulders split by rubbery intake vents, a ribcage stretched to its outermost extremities clung to an artificially thickened spine. Where skin had ruptured smooth carbon coated bones and glistening metal stems peaked out, sealed from infection by plastic membranes formed of hotchpotch material. Nanites were functional workers, they cared little for aesthetics. Unnecessary bulky organs had been removed long ago, leaving the collapsed abdominal wall clinging to a heavily armoured spinal column.

Comparatively, the natural human muscular structure is truly pitiful. Even our closest relatives, the apes, have muscles seven times denser then our own. Thus with but a few minor adjustments the skeleton like Revenant could easily out wrestle the world’s strongest bodybuilder. There was no soft tissue or wasteful fatty layers, just solid woven muscles reinforced with elasticised polymers. Tendons had been replaced with metallic anchors, protruding through every thin-skinned joint like industrial cables.

Overall, it gave one the impression of a mummified corpse, retrofitted like a morbid string-less puppet, more machine then woman.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Malini’s feet nearly left the ground when the Revenant suddenly emitted a garbled squawk like a broken alarm. Turning from the consol, ‘Sarah’ stepped back into the middle of the room, the speaker atop her septum still crackling with static. As the sound began running through various tonal ranges, the nurse sidled up to the doctor without taking her eyes from the machine.

“What is it doing?” She said, disguising her panic behind curiosity.

Inspecting the creature from afar, doctor Malcolm felt compelled to answer, as much for his own sanity as his assistant’s.

“I’m honestly not sure... it sounds like-”

“Warning, standing order files over written. Error ignored. Vocal caliBration bEGinning.” Both attendants leapt out of their skins at the sudden addition of a third voice in the room. “One, two, thrEe, four, five. She Sells Sea ShEaaahhh-lls On The Sea Shore. The Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over The Lazy Dog.”

Looking on with awe, Malcolm and Malini simply stood there listening to the strange near-human voice rattle off various tong twisters and test phrases. Whereas the Revenant’s voice had been some horrible grinding monotone, now it expressed a definite feminine nature. Each word seemed to be toned differently, often creating an odd stepping effect mid sentence, but they flowed together in a way that was recognisably human.

“Firmware update confirmed, Aperture Glad version Seven point four point eight successfully installed and operational. Unit designation Alpha Zulu Six Niner.” There was a brief pause whist some correction was made. “Override accepted. Unit Designation, SaRah.”

Jade eyes locked onto the two dumbfounded medical staff, Malini shuddering as she briefly caught sight of something in the expressionless face.

“Hello,” The woman announced, “My name is SaRah. I am KatRinAs guardian and Sibling. I would like to be of use during her stay, but first.”

The eyes drifted away, staring fixedly at a point in space as though the owner had forgotten something of import. This time the pause stretched out into an elongated moment of awkwardness, several dozen seconds passing before Malcolm clear his throat and dared to vouch safe the suspended question.

“Errm, yes? But what?”

Like a peg had been removed from a stuck gear, Sarah’s head swung back around to the unsure pair, eyes narrowing in much the same way that the nurse had spotted earlier. Were it not for the unyielding mouth, Malini could swear the doll woman was smiling.

“But first, I will reQuire the Return of my pants.”

Comments

[Cherry Rie]

Thankyou everyone. I honestly thought I might have totaly lost my muse for a while there But your kind words spurred me on once again and I'm so much happier with this next chapter :)

[Midnightshadow]

Ooh, I've been waiting for this to update. Particularly chilling this time was the accidental 'recycling' of an entire baby. Even in the future, as they say, nothing works. A few interesting and off spelling mistakes (catch them later, but one does not 'pass mustard' unless something is Very Wrong(tm) with oneself). And "Sarah" gets an upgrade, fixes some important parts and seems to return from whatever dark hell her cybernetic self has been imprisoned in. Does she, too, have hope?

And oh but it's painful hearing that Kat just wants to die.

[Cherry Rie]

Crumbs I always thought it was Pass Mustard, not Pass Muster
Thanks hun, I'd better put that right. Any others while we're at it?

[Chatoyance]

The deal with Kat, and seeing Conversion as death was an awesome take on things. It just fits so well with the whole 'Equestria as afterlife' subtext that runs through so much of the fiction here. This just keeps getting more and more impressive, and I am so glad you decided to Get Writing.

Really awesome little nods too, to things like Portal in there. I enjoyed those.

[ray10k]

Did I just spot a Portal ref?

[Altair]

I've seen characters disagree with the stated mission of the the CB's before (e.g. Midnight's Edge from Twist) or authors describing their characters pre and post conversion as so fundamentally changed they may no longer be themselves (Chatoyance had a blog post examining the degree to which Liam from The Big Respawn was altered) but I have never before contemplated it as a method of death.....let alone suicide... That girl makes my heart ache. Sadly, I recognize her smile and reckless abandon. I've seen it before.

It's thrilling to see there's some of Sarah left in there. That she waited so long to attempt to assert herself over the programming might mean she's been...wary of the repercussions. Was she unsure she could protect Kat properly if she let her soft human side out? Perhaps overriding the programming in her body is something she can't maintain? What if she runs the risk of being completely consumed by the construct's self-healing and self-correcting systems? Think about the gamble that might represent!

...Commenting via phone remains quite the chore- but I always forget what I mean to say by the time I get home

[Cloudhammer]

A great chapter Cherry, glad to see you writing again

[vernes]

The part of "not for conversion, but to die" made me *ulp*.
And the cyborg! Ohboyohboyohboy.
What will happen!?

[darkmatterbutterflies]

Bringing voice to the voiceless, and hope to the hopeless: firmware updates.

[Zervziel]

"I don’t know if ponies are born with souls, but humans aren’t. We earn ours. Through trial, suffering and victory, we are shaped by the world around us."

Ok, aside from the pretty insulting "ponies have souls but humans don't" bs, that doesn't make any sense. How can the ponies earn souls, heralding from a world that coddles them, by overcoming hardships, enduring suffering and emerging victorious when humans live in a world that routinely tries to murder them and somehow it's old homo sapien sapien that comes out soulless.