modality; once revved, they wailed as banshees.
A host of utensils emerged from tabletop, prepping to examine and prod. Metal baffles lifted, encompassing me, that
during treatment I could not meet their surrounding stare.
Steel bands unribboned, cuffing my wrists; clamps took hold
of my ankles and extended upward, angling my legs forty degrees upward. "Physical underway," my doctor noted her
record, and then spoke to me. "Relax."
Our does never neared living patients; needless exposure
to such vectors of transmission inevitabled otherwise-avoidable infection.
"Circulatories, normal," my nurse said, descending the
list. "Gene stimulations, uninterrupted. Transmissions,
steady. Respiration, acceptable. Lymphonic conversion, responsive. T-cell progressions, negative. Neural response, appropriate. Cell regrowth, positive-"
"Perspiration, hypertropic," my doctor noted. "Adrenaline output elevating. Blood pressure rising. Relax, Bonney."
Both nurse and doctor seemed to speak from Mars. Ceiling reflections of machine-light shimmered as if watercast.
"Rectal readings," my doctor said, "suitabled. Throttle
up „
"Boosters ready." A dozen needles speared me, piercing
my arms, my legs, my bottom, neck and spine. Immobilized
as I was, all I could do was scream.
"Administering vaccinations and reboosts as per program: measles A and B, hepatitis varietals, gamma-g, typhoid, Sabin, DS, DPT, malaria, HIV one through six,
coryza series, TB, influenza, smallpox, RecomStrain, yellow
fever, Carcinomile, RNA screens, pneumonics. Contraindications noted, no unpredicted danger foreseen."
"Catscans?" asked my nurse.
"Demonstrate patient's continued viability. Prepare for
pelvic insertion."
My legs, assisted, reached greater altitude as their separation increased, and then the table intruded itself into me; its
rod felt to have been chilled for weeks. My fingers grasped
at air as I felt myself split. A year-long minute passed before
either nurse or doctor spoke.
"Examination proceeding," said the nurse. I saw a yellow
light blinking.
"Celibate state not contractually demanded," said my
doctor, after perfunctory observations. "Cycles abnormalling?"
"No."
"Louder, please. Detail reasons."
"Husband," I said. "His mood lacks. I'm hurting-"
"Pain responses within boundaries. Discharge evident.
Ovulation patterns suitable. Dermal reactions-"
"Relax," the table's loudspeaker voiced, sounding with a
man's ingratiating rumble.
"Pacify yourself to lessen discomfort. Silence, please. Sedative application proceeding," said my nurse.
"Don't dope me. Don't-" But their additives already
coursed through the needles; momentslong, my head lightened, and as perception altered I watched the overheads
waving as if they'd taken on a semblance of life. Shortly, the
pain was almost describable, if not bearable.
"Melanin production abeying as predicted in British studies of Melaway," my doctor noted. "Caucasian similitude
attainable on schedule as desired. Continue avoiding noonday sunlight."
"This drug," I tried to say, "Affecting more than-"
"Corrective agent," she reworded. "Drugs heal. Corrective agents correct."
"Term it as suited," I said. "All's incorrective. Headaches,
daily. Nausea unavoidable, every mom. Vomiting and
cramps. I jointache as if bonebroken. Melaway's causing all,
I know-"
"Expected. Silence, please. Health dissemination proceeding."
"Relax," the table said.
"Expected?" I replayed, hearing my words slur as I enabled them to crawl over my lips. "Every effect?"
"Not unexpected," my doctor said. "Further questions?"
"AO. At treatment termination I'll darken anew?"
"As detailed earlier," she said. "Original skin pigmenta tion redevelops within three weeks following cessation of
treatment with Melaway. Exhale."
"Certify harmlessness," I said. "These effects-"
"Total harmlessness uncertifiable with any experimental
corrective agents. Silence, please. Further elaboration ines-
sentialled within
Ryan C. Thomas, Cody Goodfellow