Fighting Chance Read Online Free Page A

murmured out loud, her
eyes scanning the strange room carefully.
    An uncharacteristic squeak escaped her mouth as a portion of
the wall on the left side of the room slid open with a soft swish . When
nothing rushed out to attack her, she crept toward the opening and peered
inside. With a sigh of relief, she saw a metallic bowl attached to the wall
vaguely in the shape of a toilet, as well as, an enclosed closet that resembled
a shower stall. Choosing to ignore the unusual design, she gratefully made use
of the facilities.
    When she finished, she looked around curiously for the
toilet paper and began to get worried when she didn’t spot anything to wipe
herself with. “Where the hell is the toilet paper?” she asked aloud, beginning
to get angry.
    Another squeal of surprise split the air as a clicking noise
sounded from the bowl and a concentrated beam of warmth bathed her skin that
was exposed to the toilet. Startled, she jumped up from the seat to inspect
herself. To her utter surprise, her entire bottom was dry and free of any
moisture.
    “What the fuck?” she cursed, her skin pebbling with goose
bumps as she stood frozen in place.
    A disembodied male voice answered, “Command not found.
Please rephrase your command.”
    Mahoney jumped and stifled a scream behind her hand, her
eyes rolling wildly around the room looking for the owner of the voice.
    When nothing happened after several moments of tense
silence, she decided to break it herself. “Hello? Is there anyone here?”
    “Hello. Current occupation is one human female,” the voice
answered her again.
    Her hands began to tremble, but her common sense told her
that the voice was coming from some type of computer system piped in through a
speaker. She decided to try to get more information. “Where am I?” she asked
hesitantly.
    The answer came immediately. “You are located inside the
living quarters in room 241-B.”
    Now that her panic was beginning to subside, her temper
began to take its place. “That’s not very helpful information, smart ass. What
is this place? Who are you? Why am I here? Who brought me here?”
    “Access denied. Computerized vocalization module model
number 874G9. Access denied. Access denied,” came the swift reply.
    Mahoney simmered at the non-answers to her questions.
Looking around the room more carefully, she spoke aloud, “Where is the mirror?”
    She jumped back as another panel on the bathroom wall slid
open to reveal a screen. Stepping closer to it, she peered inside and gasped
when her image was reflected back to her in high definition. She studied her
face carefully, and realized that her hair was clean and shiny and fell down
her back in a sleek curtain of inky blackness.
    “Oh, my God,” she whispered, fascinated horror in her tone.
“How did my hair grow? Where is the scar that was on my cheek? And where the
hell are my freckles?!” she shouted, her voice gaining volume with each new
discovery.
    “Hair growth was accelerated during corrective treatment.
Scar tissue has been repaired during corrective treatment. Sun damage and skin
blemishes were repaired during corrective treatment,” the computer replied.
    Angrily, Mahoney jerked up the shirt to check her body. Sure
enough, every scar, every bit of puckered flesh, every healed burn mark, and
even the dark mole to the left of her belly button was gone. Pulling up the
sleeve of her shirt, she cursed to see that even her tattoos had been erased. In
a daze, she wandered out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, barely
noticing when the wall panel slid closed behind her.
    “Computer, what is corrective treatment?” she demanded,
absently hopping from one foot to another, much like she did before a work out.
    “Corrective treatment is a medical procedure that restores
the body to pristine condition,” the monotone male voice replied.
    Mahoney continued to stretch and prepare her body for a
fight. She felt light, flexible, and in top form. If only she had