Read Online The Push Chronicles (Book 1): Indomitable by J.B. Garner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.B. Garner
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isn’t a petri dish of microbes, Reggie. This is a human being, for Christ’s sake.”
I left the dean there to sputter and made my way across the lab offices to the experimental areas. At the end of the hall was the clear-paned door of the airlock into the clean room. From there, I caught my first glimpse of Alma Gutierrez, college student and now experimental subject.
She was short before the Push, at least from the school’s records, but now was fairly tall, even taller than I was, topping six feet easily. Her entire body seemed to have been replaced with intricately faceted crystals of some unknown mineral. Whatever her new body was made of it, it was semi-transparent: I could observe the subtle motions of crystalline bones and the shifting of internal structures in her bare arms and legs as she paced the sterile room. I wondered for a moment at the lack of shoes but then I noticed how the hard edges of her body were already wearing cuts into her denim shorts and flannel shirt. As with Eric and the other Pushed I had met, my head began to ache and my senses twist: I could see that ghostly afterimage of what the photo had told me was the real Alma inside the new shape. Exposure was starting to making the feeling less sickening but no less bizarre. I depressed the intercom switch by the door and cleared my throat.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Gutierrez. The Dean was just being overcautious.” I pointed at the airlock door. “Let’s get you out of there, OK? Get in the airlock and I’ll cycle you out.”
If I hadn’t been able to see that phantom self inside of Alma, I’d have been hard pressed to read her expression through the angular lines and see-through segments. The inner Alma seemed relieved though and dutifully entered the airlock and waited. I ran the air exchange from the outer door panel then opened the pressurized door for my guest. She stepped out into the hallway. Up close I was a bit dazzled as the overhead lights refracted with rainbow colors through her body. After a moment, she spoke for the first time.
“Thanks.” As with Eric’s, I could hear two voices. The first was windy and resonant; the second was normal and tinged with a Mexican accent. “I hope you can help me.”
“I hope we can too.” I offered her a hand to shake. “I’m Dr. Irene Roman, head of this research group. My specialties are physiology and physical therapy. It’s nice to meet you.” Alma stared at my hand for a long moment with those clear, crystal eyes.
“It’s good to meet you too, Doctor.” The facets in her face contorted, her inner face showing embarrassment. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t shake your hand.” It only took a moment of thought to realize why.
“All of the edges of your facets are rough then?”
“Yeah. The fingers and toes are the worst, but anywhere they get small, they get sharper, I think.” She ran her hands over her face, producing an eerie sound. Up close, I could see her hair too was now composed of crystalline strands, extremely stiff and hanging limply against the nape of her neck.
“Well, we will be careful then.” I carefully put a hand on her shoulder, avoiding putting any real pressure against the edges sawing through her shirt. Strangely, her crystal skin felt like jelly under my fingers; I had to force myself not to push through it. This difficulty was compounded as I felt every fiber of my being want to recoil away from her. “Follow me and let’s get the initial exams started.”
As I started the physical examination, I decided to strike up a conversation. I would have liked to have said it was purely for scientific purposes, or to help my patient feel more at ease with her unusual situation, and it was partly for those reasons. I am a little ashamed to say that I also had another ulterior motive: I wanted to see if I could figure out how the Push affected the mind. I had
I left the dean there to sputter and made my way across the lab offices to the experimental areas. At the end of the hall was the clear-paned door of the airlock into the clean room. From there, I caught my first glimpse of Alma Gutierrez, college student and now experimental subject.
She was short before the Push, at least from the school’s records, but now was fairly tall, even taller than I was, topping six feet easily. Her entire body seemed to have been replaced with intricately faceted crystals of some unknown mineral. Whatever her new body was made of it, it was semi-transparent: I could observe the subtle motions of crystalline bones and the shifting of internal structures in her bare arms and legs as she paced the sterile room. I wondered for a moment at the lack of shoes but then I noticed how the hard edges of her body were already wearing cuts into her denim shorts and flannel shirt. As with Eric and the other Pushed I had met, my head began to ache and my senses twist: I could see that ghostly afterimage of what the photo had told me was the real Alma inside the new shape. Exposure was starting to making the feeling less sickening but no less bizarre. I depressed the intercom switch by the door and cleared my throat.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Gutierrez. The Dean was just being overcautious.” I pointed at the airlock door. “Let’s get you out of there, OK? Get in the airlock and I’ll cycle you out.”
If I hadn’t been able to see that phantom self inside of Alma, I’d have been hard pressed to read her expression through the angular lines and see-through segments. The inner Alma seemed relieved though and dutifully entered the airlock and waited. I ran the air exchange from the outer door panel then opened the pressurized door for my guest. She stepped out into the hallway. Up close I was a bit dazzled as the overhead lights refracted with rainbow colors through her body. After a moment, she spoke for the first time.
“Thanks.” As with Eric’s, I could hear two voices. The first was windy and resonant; the second was normal and tinged with a Mexican accent. “I hope you can help me.”
“I hope we can too.” I offered her a hand to shake. “I’m Dr. Irene Roman, head of this research group. My specialties are physiology and physical therapy. It’s nice to meet you.” Alma stared at my hand for a long moment with those clear, crystal eyes.
“It’s good to meet you too, Doctor.” The facets in her face contorted, her inner face showing embarrassment. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t shake your hand.” It only took a moment of thought to realize why.
“All of the edges of your facets are rough then?”
“Yeah. The fingers and toes are the worst, but anywhere they get small, they get sharper, I think.” She ran her hands over her face, producing an eerie sound. Up close, I could see her hair too was now composed of crystalline strands, extremely stiff and hanging limply against the nape of her neck.
“Well, we will be careful then.” I carefully put a hand on her shoulder, avoiding putting any real pressure against the edges sawing through her shirt. Strangely, her crystal skin felt like jelly under my fingers; I had to force myself not to push through it. This difficulty was compounded as I felt every fiber of my being want to recoil away from her. “Follow me and let’s get the initial exams started.”
As I started the physical examination, I decided to strike up a conversation. I would have liked to have said it was purely for scientific purposes, or to help my patient feel more at ease with her unusual situation, and it was partly for those reasons. I am a little ashamed to say that I also had another ulterior motive: I wanted to see if I could figure out how the Push affected the mind. I had
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