Data Runner by Sam A. Patel Read Free Book Online Page B

let it take you over. Remember, a paralyzed runner is a dead runner.”
    Cyril returns holding a titanium box with a laser-etched serial number. A hiss of escaping air fills the room as he opens it and shows me the injection cartridge inside. He holds it closer for me to examine. Inside the cartridge is a small translucent blob with hanging tentacles suspended in a clear aqueous solution. It is about the size of a dime and looks exactly like a jellyfish.
    â€œThis is the bioidentical cortex chip that will be implanted subcutaneously on the inside of your forearm. It is a proprietary biocircuit developed in our labs specifically for this purpose, and it is unlike any other in the world.” Cyril picks up a UV light and runs it over the box, making the chip inside glow an iridescent purple as it reveals the vast network of micro-optical fibers running through it. “Right now it’s inert, but once it enters your body, it will hardwire itself into your neural axons to form a synaptic link with your central nervous system.”
    Snake snaps on a pair of latex gloves and takes the chip from Cyril. He places it in the injector gun.
    â€œYou are the power source, Jack. The chip draws it power electrochemically from your body. That means there are certain precautions that you will now have to take. We’ll go over those in a minute.”
    Snake aggressively rubs an alcohol swab over the meaty part of my forearm.
    â€œI won’t lie to you, Jack…” The hairs on my forearm stand straight up as the cold steel tip of the implant gun touches my skin. “This is going to hurt.”
    Before I even register Cyril’s warning, Snake braces my arm and fires the gun.
    â€œOw!”
    Imagine the biggest wasp you’ve ever seen. Now imagine five of them. Five stingers digging into you all at once, all on the same square inch of flesh. Like five serrated claws clamping down on a single patch of skin. The bite is so great it makes my arm twitch, which only makes the pain worse. This lasts for what feels like minutes but is probably no longer than ten seconds. It lasts until I can feel the lump. Just under my skin at first, but soon it sinks deeper. I feel what can only be the cortex chip’s tentacles piercing through the tendons beneath as the wasp stingers sink deeper into my arm.
    Until I feel the jolt—like an electric shock running down the entire length of my arm. Then my arm is on fire. Burning deep inside my skin like every pore has been filled with piping hot acid that is now dissolving its way through my flesh.
    I lurch ten inches out of the chair, but Snake shoves me back down and holds me there.
    â€œSomething’s wrong!” I scream.
    â€œNo, that’s normal,” says Snake. “Nerve pain is the worst kind there is.”
    It feels like my arm is blistering red bubbles of oozing flesh from my wrist to my elbow. Only it isn’t. The only physical mark on my arm is the small red ring at the injection site. The rest is all nerves.
    â€œYou just have to wait it out.”
    I close my eyes and focus. Deal with it as best I can. It takes a mountain of effort just to endure it—more that I have to spare—but just as I reach my breaking point, it begins to dissipate. Slowly at first, then all at once, it goes as quickly as it came. I check my arm. Other than the injection mark, there’s no real damage, even if it does feel like it’s just been dipped into a 12-molar bath of hydrochloric acid.
    â€œThere now, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” says Cyril.
    Snake flashes me a private look as he releases my arm. Right, like he would know.
    Cyril continues. “Every other firm out there is still implanting its runners with decades-old silicon chips. That’s why so many of them get dismembered. It’s simply easier to grab the entire limb and dig the chip out later.” Cyril runs the UV light over my arm until it finds the glowing purple