From: cirop34@elm.circa.ufl.edu ({-->MiChAeL WhIdDen<--})
Subject: Mainie's Diary
Date: 15 Aug 1994 21:25:43 GMT


This work is by Ken Stone.  Any comments should be
sent to him at ken.stone@blaze.bbs.net.au

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This one's a little different. It is based on the events of a
CyberGeneration campaign I ran a while back. Mainie was the primary
NPC in the game. While some characters are similar to those in
Puma, they are not related, other than their initial inspiration
coming from the same place.


Ken
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Mainie's Diary.


       My name is Mainie, well, it's really Marianna Wilkinson,
which is funny in itself. I never knew Dad's real name. Not the one
he was born with anyway. When he married Mum, Peter Wilkinson was
the name he used. Mum isn't much better. Her name is Rana De-mahn,
though the one she was given as a child was Annette Mathieson. And
that was by her adopted parents. She never new what her natural
parents called her. Not that it matters much. Everyone calls her
Mian anyway. So being called Mainie I fit right into this strange
family custom.
       I suppose you could call these ramblings a dairy, though I'm
not writing them down. I can't write them down.... But I need
something to occupy my mind to stop me going mad. Perhaps when I
wake up I might write them down. I wish I could wake up... well,
I'm not really asleep. It's just that my body won't listen to me at
the moment.
       This part of the story starts with my seven year old sister
Anna. Her name is really Marianna too. Talk about confusing, but
I'll fill you in on that another time.
       I can remember coming to the arcology with my friends. It's
some sort of research centre run by the government. Anna is being
held there. We would be too, if I hadn't run away with my boyfriend
Shaggy the night before she was caught. The men in black suits
raided our home, nearly caught Shade too. Mian (Mum) is a mess.
After little Anna was taken, she curled up on the floor and
wouldn't listen to anything. She'd kicked Dad out the night before,
because he'd been the one that caused me and Shaggy to run away.
Not to mention she's still recovering from five bullet wounds from
a few days back. Sounds like a soapy doesn't it.
       Anyway, we found this arcology a day or two ago and thought
we'd check it out. Lots of shops and junk. Watched a film. Warblade
picked up another girl and took her riding. Did I tell you about
Warblade? He's this guy with arms and legs made out of some sort of
nanite built material, and he can shape them into blades and things
if he wants to. Really weird to watch.
       This girl he picked up. Her name's Trish. She turned out to
be okay. We were playing some new arcade game, hunting down and
shooting cyber-evolved kids, quite nasty really, considering I am
one myself, as are most of my gang. The game is pretty sickening.
It makes the cyber-evolved look like real monsters. Shaggy was a
lot better at it than the rest of us because he's a games freak. We
all died a lot earlier. When his game was finally over, instead of
saying "Game Over" like games usually do, it said "Help Me. Anna".
So that's how we knew the kid sister was here. You see, she has
evolved this ability to mentally link in with computers and the
net.
       We came back later that night, Trish getting us all inside
past the guards with our guns. For a group of teenagers ranging
from fourteen to eighteen, we carry more firepower than we should.
That I suppose is because Mian and Dad, and Shade's parents too,
are all cops, or at least work for the cops. I know we went looking
for Anna but that's all I can remember. I don't remember where we
looked, or what we saw. I don't know if we found Anna. I don't know
what happened to my friends either. I hope they are still all
right.
       As for me, I'm trapped in something dark. Something I can't
explain. I call for my friends and I get no answer. I am pretty
sure Shaggy wouldn't leave me, and I absolutely know that Shade
wouldn't, so I can't work out where they have gone. That is why I
don't think I'm awake.
       Who is this Shade girl? She is my sister, well almost
anyway. We have grown up together, sharing the same room. Our
parents all live in the same house, a farm out near Yass. Her name
is really Teressa, or Tracy, but she's nicknamed Shade after her
mother, who everybody calls Shadow.
       Shade where are you? Help me please....

       It feels different today. Not so black, not so alone. I can
hear other people moving around in the dark. Sometimes they talk to
each other. Some times they even say something to me, though they
never hear when I reply. I wish they wouldn't call me Marianna.

       I think I've woken up again, though its hard to be sure. I
still can't see anything. I still can't say anything. I'm so
scared. Sometimes I can hear what they are thinking. "Poor girl,
look at that..." and I don't understand the rest, but it fills me
with foreboding. Some times what they are thinking is so cold I
stop listening all together.

       I'm listening to another person thinking. It is a lot
clearer than before. This time I can even see what their mind can
see. I can see a room filled with medical equipment. And a bed.
There is someone in the bed. A girl with her long reddish-brown
hair laid out on the pillow, her face relaxed. Her eyes are closed.
I recognise her. It is me that I can see. So that is what I look
like when I'm asleep. But at the moment I'm not asleep.
       The view continues to shift, following the lines of the
sleeping girl. She is heavily bandaged around her chest. Her right
arm is trailing intravenous lines. Her left arm is... where? I
can't see her left arm. There is bandaging near her shoulder. Where
is her arm? WHERE IS MY ARM?
       I scream, but no one hears. The girl I see lies peacefully
sleeping. Come on Mainie. Wake UP!

       I'm shivering. The fear, the pain. It came from nowhere,
gradually building. I didn't recognise it at first. just some sort
of dull distraction, but gradually it moved to the centre of my
attention. My back hurts. My left side hurts. The pain becomes
unbearable and I scream. I feel the scream. It makes me hurt more.
I can hear people rushing about me again. I feel something creeping
into me, moving through my body. It feels cold, but I invite it,
encourage it. It moves into the pain, fighting fire with ice. And
when the fight is over, the pain is gone.
       Again I can see through the eyes of another. Looking at the
girl lying in the bed. I wish I could get her to open her eyes, so
I could look through them. Why won't they open?

       This morning feels different. I can sense that something is
going to happen today so I feel alert, watching, waiting.
       I see a glimmer of light. Blood red in color and high up,
off to my right. I watch as it grows. With it come other
sensations. The pain that made me scream accompanies the light, but
it is not as vicious as last time. I keep watching the light. It
gradually spreads, until all I can see are dark and light patches
of red. Then there is a glimmer of more. White light, through a
narrow slit.
       I recognise the slit as the gap between my eyelids. My eyes
are opening! I try harder. They open to give me a blurred picture
of ceiling lights and intravenous stands. I blink and the image
clears. I'm awake!

       Several hours have passed since I opened my eyes. Doctors
and nurses have been buzzing in and out, checking me over, asking
me questions, examining my eyes. I don't respond, but it is very
funny listening to their thoughts. Eventually I drift off to sleep
again, feeling happier.

       When I woke up this morning it was a lot easier to open my
eyes. Nurses and doctors weren't so excited, though I'm not so sure
I like what they are thinking about today. They are thinking about
cyberwear. New stuff. Research and development. What's that to do
with me? Are they going to give me a new arm?
       They have let me sit up today, well, they adjusted the bed a
bit so I wasn't lying down. I've even answered a couple of simple
questions. Talking makes me very tired. I think I'll go back to
sleep for a while.

       Something is wrong. Everything went cold and dark again. I
can remember waking up, finding a doctor in my room. Then some
nurses too. They took me from the bed and put me on a trolley. I
was wheeled into a surgery. Then everything went black.
       That was a while ago. I can remember waking up, but it was
like when I first woke up. I can't open my eyes, I can't move. I
feel cold. Why? I was getting better. What have they done?

       It's been dark for ages now. Maybe even a couple of days.
I've been asleep a few times. They are the best times, because then
I can sort of forget what is happening. When I'm awake I'm totally
alone in this darkness. I can't even read anyone's thoughts.
Nothing. Dreams are much nicer. I dreamt that I was back in Yass,
at home on the farm. Shade and I were taking a bath together in our
big Japanese bath like we often did. You can blame mum for the
Japanese bath. She's always had a bit of a fixation with the
Japanese. For years she thought she was quarter Japanese. Being a
red-head it's hard to believe, until you look at her eyes. They do
look a little Asian. It turned out her adopted parents had been
wrong, and she was really quarter Korean. But then mum does call
herself Mian, and that is Japanese.
       When I woke from the dream, I was really upset. It had been
so nice, so warm, so cosy. I haven't felt that way for so long. Not
since the nanotech plague hit. I wish someone would hug me. Mum.

       I was dreaming again when I heard mum call out my name, so I
turned over and opened my eyes. "Marianna" the voice said again,
and I could see a face. Pleasant with blue eyes and blonde hair
tied back. Not mum. I feel immensely disappointed until I realise
that the woman is real, not a dream, and that she is calling my
name. My eyes are open again! I can see! I can hear! I try to
answer, but all I hear is a muffled murmur. I keep trying until I
am so tired I fall asleep.

       I can hear the voice again. I open my eyes to look. It is
the same woman. She smiles and takes my hands, holding them in
hers. She gently squeezes them, and I feel something far off.
Hands. I have two hands! They must have given me a new arm.

       My ability to see peoples thought's is returning slowly, and
with it come sensations from my body. Gradually I recognise more
and more nerves. I can even move my fingers, though there are some
strange sensations from my wrists.
       I am puzzling over this when I pick up this really clear
thought from the doctor that is watching me. Sort of a memory, or
short clips of it. I can see some sort of cybernetic body laid out.
I can see the reddish-brown haired girl I recognise as myself being
placed on an operating table. I see an image of the girl's brain
being taken from her skull...
       I scream!  A feeling if ice cold terror as I realise what
has happened. They have moved my brain into a cyborg body. I HATE
THEM! They have no right to steal my body!

       I have been crying for hours now. When I'm scared I have to
hold someone. It's the only way I can manage... but I can barely
move this body, and there is no one near. Where are Mum or Shade
when you need them? Why can't these stupid hospital people
understand this? WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO ME?

       I can feel all of the body now, though I can barely control
it. It isn't my body so it feels all wrong. I have looked at it
through their eyes. It is pretty. The proportions seem okay, though
more of a woman's body than my fourteen year old body was. The body
has my face and my hair. All of my hair. They haven't cut it or
anything. Actually it seems to have grown. It must have made the
operation hard.
       They bring in a wheelchair. The nurses take me off the bed,
seating me in the chair. They fuss around me for a while, grooming
and sponge bathing me, then they wheel me to a mirror. "Aren't you
pretty." "Don't you look good." Other comments like that. They seem
to be trying to make me feel good. True, the body does look good,
and my hair is nicely presented. There are no signs of any
scarring. But I don't care. It isn't my body I am looking at. I
begin to cry.

       The worst thing about dreaming of home is waking up to find
you have been cheated again. From romping freely with friends to
barely being able to move, and surrounded by strangers. At least
they are teaching me to use the body. Into physiotherapy every day.
Dragging myself up and down the room between the rails. I never
thought walking was so hard.
       There is a funny little robot watching me. It's a chrome
ball, about a foot diameter, with eight legs. They tell be it is a
prototype exploration drone, and is about five years old. It had
been wandering around here since it was made. It has been watching
me ever since I started physiotherapy. It even followed me back to
my bed yesterday.

       I cut myself today. It was only a scratch, but it bled. Real
blood. They explained to me that only some parts of the body are
cybernetic. The rest has been grown from my DNA. It still isn't my
body. I wish I had my own one back, even missing an arm.

       I am amazed at the progress I have been making. I can walk
or even run now. Its only been a couple of weeks, and it wasn't
like I needed to regain any muscle tone. I just had to learn to
control the new body. Sure I'm a bit clumsy, and I keep bumping my
head because I'm six inches taller than I used to be.

       I feel like screaming again. I found out what the funny
sensation in my wrists was today. If I think about it, I can open
four compartments, two per arm, and extend electrodes from them.
These along with an ionising laser that is built into my right
wrist and the electrical charge I can build up using my nanites
give me the ability to throw charges. An inbuilt taser or stun-gun
if you like. I very nearly used it on them.

       Another secret about this body popped up this morning. I can
see into the net, or look at images projected into virtuality
without the aid of 'trodes. The spider drone and I have been
talking to each other using it. Dad was a net runner. Still is I
suppose. Not that I care. A lot of this would never have happened
if he hadn't kicked my boyfriend out.

       That's it. I don't understand why they did it. They just
dressed me up in some nice clothes, stuffed a pile more into the
back of this huge motorcycle, along with some things I recognise as
being mine. They let me take the spider drone too.
       They knew I could ride. They found my licence. I guess
that's why they gave me the bike. Mum gave me the license a couple
of months ago when I kept riding my bike on the roads. I guess she
must have bribed someone, because it's the real thing. It says I'm
sixteen. With this new body, no one will argue.
       These people put me and the bike in one of their trucks.
Then they drove to a place on the edge of the CBD. They took the
bike out of the truck. They put me on bike. They drove away.

       I sit there thinking for hours. It doesn't make sense.

       Shaggy, Shade, why did you abandon me? I'm coming looking
for you....



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This fictional work is the product of my imagination. Any
similarities to anything at all is purely coincedental.

copyright by Ken Stone 1994.
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