jeriendhal | Fic: Spin Recovery, Part Thirty-Three (Reply)

A few days later Rufus was looking over the highly complex piece of mechanics sitting on the table in front of him, in the district hospital’s outpatient facility. “So that’s it, is it?” He touched the smooth plastic surface with his finger. The color was the same shade as his own fur, which somehow failed to endear it to him.

“It’s an AmbuMech Cyber Arm, milord,” the medtech told him proudly. “A top of the line piece of equipment. It features the exact same range of motion as a biological Vulpine arm, with surface sensors on the ‘skin’ of the arm as well as the fingertips and palms. The internal gyroscopes will give feedback approximating the natural, unconscious body sense you have of the position of your limbs. The internal batteries are good for eight months of service before they require recharging and it’s also waterproof.”

“All right. How do you install it?”

“Just sit back in the recliner and let me do all the work.”

Rufus leaned back as the medtech pulled out an interface cable from a drawer and plugged one end into his new arm and the other into his shoulder’s base plate. “We’re just going to do a systems check. I’m powering up your arm now.”

He flipped open a panel on the arm and pressed a button. Then Rufus got the most peculiar sensation, as the arm’s sensors began feeding him information. Suddenly he could feel a cool breeze from the room’s air conditioning vents running over his skin and faux wood of the table underneath his palm. It was quite disconcerting, given that it felt as if his arm was part of his body, even though he could see it was sitting a meter away from him.

“All right, milord? You’re not feeling any pain over the link, are you?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “What would it feel like, coming over the interface link?”

“Like it hurt,” the tech said. “It serves the same purpose as it does for your meat components, letting you know you’re doing something that could damage you.” He pricked the palm of the arm with a needle.

“Ow!” Rufus automatically drew the arm back, balling up his hand into a fist.

“Excellent reflexes, milord!” The medtech then persuaded him to dip the fingers of the arm into cold water, then hot, then lukewarm, teseting the sensors further. It performed perfectly, though he proved to be immune to being tickled lightly with a feather. After consulting with a datapad, the medtech looked satisfied. “All right, let’s get you hooked up.” He powered down the arm and Rufus gulped a breath as feeling in his new arm dissapeared, reminidng him of his first awakening in the Suhayar’s med bay after the amputation.

“Are you all right, milord?” the medtech asked with some concern.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied. “Let’s just get this installed”

The medtech nodded, unshipped the data cable, then lifted the arm up carefully and pressed it against the base plate. The little servomotors of the docking mechanism did the rest and it clicked into place. “That’s all there is to it. You can even remove it yourself if you wish. Some users find it’s easier to sleep at night if they do.”

Rufus nodded, then reached for the power switch, flipping it on. He lifted the arm up over his head, brought it down, then ran the wrist and fingers through a full range of motion, while the medtech watched and evaluated the data he was receiving against the expected tolerances. “I wonder how strong this is?” he said.

“Well, the gripping strength of the fingers are good for about one hundred kilos, all told. More than that and you risk accidentally breaking someone’s wrist when you give them a handshake. Sorry, you aren’t going to be a superhero.”

“I don’t want be a hero. I’ll settle for the occasional moments of brilliant competence.” He raised his hand up speculatively. The color of his skin, if you could call it that, really looked awful. “I wonder if I should wear a glove over it.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, milord. It interferes with the responses of the skin sensors. That and it just looks tacky. Though we do get folk who go for custom work on the forearm and bicep, racing stripes and the like.”

Rufus was possessed for a moment with an image of his arm painted black with bright orange flames, like some of the more outrageous designs for custom skimmers he had seen. He shook it off. Sandy beige would do for now. “I think I’ll stick with this. Unless they’ve developed a skin and fur graft that can go over it?” he asked hopefully.

“We’re still working on that one, milord.”

* * *

“Well that looks terrible,” Hazel said cheerfully, when he went to meet her outside the clinic.

“You’re all heart,” he replied. “The color is awful, isn’t it? But at least I can hug you properly now.” He demonstrated his newly won ability by gathering her up in his arms and nuzzling her ear.

“Mmmm… No fair doing that while I’m on my crutches and I can’t hug you myself,” she murmured into his ear.

“How’s your back?” he asked, letting her go.

“Just fine. The scan showed there wasn’t any permanent damage from the crash. How’s yours?”

“The same. Your father peeled himself off the ceiling yet?”

“Just about. I had to promist him that I wouldn't try to fly again until I had my leg installed.”

“Fair enough I suppose. As I'm currently not on speaking terms with Mother, she had less to say, though Aunt Dottie had some choice words to me about males and mid life crises.” There was a buzzing in the breast pocket of his shirt and he fished out his comset. “Forgive me a moment, dear.” He slipped the com over his ear. “This is a Rufus Brushtail.”

Milord Brushtail, this is Regina Fieldmaster.

“Oh, good afternoon, Regina. How are things?” He cupped his hand over the mic and said to Hazel, “My lawyer. I've had her looking into details about what I can do with the parcels I'm administrating now without agravating things with Mother.”

I need to see you in my office at soon as you can, Lord Brushtail. A Situation has arisen.

His ears drew back as heard the capital letter in her words. “Whats the matter. The CP's aren't being difficult about that damned drug charge are they? I told them I'd pay whatever fine or community service they demanded.”

I'm afraid this is much more serious than that, milord. A colleague of mine from the GSA's Ministry of Justice has just contacted me, and given me warning that you're about charged with piracy.

TBC