Skinned -1 Read Online Free

didn’t let myself think about what would happen if this was it, al I would ever have. A white sheet, black letters, his stubby finger. Blink, blink.
    “Now that you’ve reached this level, we should be able to move on to the next stage. It’s just going to take a little longer to implement. Is there anything you want to ask in the meantime?”
    One blink.
    The letters reappeared and his finger crawled along.
    W . Blink.
    H . Blink.
    A. Blink.
    T. Blink.
    WRONG WITH ME.
    Blink.
    I could tel from his expression it was the wrong question.
    “As I said, Lia, you’ve been in an accident. Your body sustained quite a bit of damage. But I assure you that we’ve been able to repair it. The lack of motive ability and sensation is quite normal under the circumstances, as your neural network adjusts to its new…circumstances. The pain and other sensations you may have experienced while you’ve been with us are a positive sign, an indication that your brain is exploring its new pathways, relearning how to process sensory information. It’s going to take some time and some hard work, Lia, and there may be some…complications to work through, but we will get you walking and talking again.”
    He said more after that, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t hear anything after “walking and talking again.” They were going to fix me. Whatever complications there were, however long it took, I would get my life back.
    “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

    Two blinks. After the second one, I kept my eyes closed until he went away.

    The bed was mechanical. It whirred quietly, and slowly the ceiling tipped away until I was sitting up. For the first time, I could see the room. It wasn’t much, but it was at least a different view, a better one than the ceiling, whose flat, unblemished gray plaster was even less interesting than the black behind my eyes. It didn’t look like any hospital room I’d ever seen. There was no machinery, no medical equipment, no sink, and no bathroom. I couldn’t smel that tel tale hospital mélange of disinfectant and puke. But then, I realized, I couldn’t smel much of anything. There was a dresser that looked like my dresser, although I could tel it wasn’t. A desk that looked like my desk. Speakers and a vidscreen, lit up with randomly flickering images of friends and family. No mirror.
    Someone had gone to a fair amount of effort to make the place feel like home.
    Someone was expecting me to stay for a while.
    A horde crowded around me. Doctors, I assumed, although none of them wore white coats. At the foot of the bed, clutching each other, my mother and father. Although, to be accurate, only my mother was doing much clutching, along with plenty of weeping and trembling. My father stood ramrod straight, arms at his sides, eyes aimed at my forehead; an old trick he’d taught me. Most people would assume he was looking me in the eye. Most people didn’t pay much attention.
    My mother pressed her head to his shoulder, squeezed him tight around the waist, and used her other hand to pat my foot, gingerly, like she was afraid of hurting me.
    Apparently no one had told her that I couldn’t feel her touch, or anything else. More likely she was in selective memory mode, tossing out any piece of information that didn’t suit her.
    “We’ve hooked up a neural output line from the language center of your brain, Lia,” the squinty-eyed doctor said. Now that I had a better view, I could see that he was also short.
    For his sake—and mine—I hoped his parents had spent al their credit on IQ points. Because clearly, they’d spared little for anything else. “If you speak the words clearly in your mind, the computer wil speak for you.” Then it was like the whole room paused, waiting.
    Hello.
    Silence.
    “It might take a little practice to get the words out,” he said. “I wish I could tel you exactly how to do it, but it’s like moving an arm or raising an eyebrow. You just have to find a