Chapter 109. The New Normal (Patreon)

I was lying in a private hospital room. Again. The only difference was that this one had a full-sized TV, a nurse call button, and a normal window without reinforced mesh or bars. Practically a five-star suite compared to the sparse, utilitarian conditions of the army hospital.

For some reason known only to her, Selina had decided to conduct an in-depth medical analysis of the results of my evolution not at her engineering center, but at a secure private clinic in the Washington suburbs.

For the past two days, I had been wheeled nonstop from one diagnostic department to another, having gallons of blood drawn and being run through every scanner imaginable. The only upside to this marathon was the complete absence of waiting lines and strangers. Selina had arranged everything so that every door opened for us without delay.

The only thing left was to find out what conclusions she had reached after deciphering that mountain of data.

I knew she was coming a full minute before the door handle began to turn. The familiar, crisp click of high heels echoed through the empty, sterile hallway.

She entered the room with the soft rustle of her white coat. Thin-rimmed glasses and an electronic tablet in her hands made her look like a genuine, top-tier medical specialist. Although with Selina, even the most serious medical persona looked more like an expensive role-playing costume.

“Finally.” I pushed myself up on my elbows, propping myself against the pillow, and focused on her face as I switched off the annoying TV with the remote. “Is the report ready? What did the tests show?”

“Well... I don't even know how to tell you this.” She sat down in the chair beside the bed and buried herself in the printed charts, wearing an exaggeratedly concerned expression. “The results are extremely inconclusive. Something seems to have gone wrong somewhere. For complete accuracy, you'll have to go through the entire examination all over again. From the beginning.”

I had already opened my mouth to launch into a direct and concise tirade about the quality of her equipment and the value of my time, but I caught a barely perceptible detail just in time. The corners of her lips twitched, and a familiar glint of mischief appeared in her eyes. Selina was doing everything she could to keep a straight face.

“Great joke,” I said with an absolutely deadpan expression. “I could barely keep myself from applauding.”

“Aw, it didn't work.” Selina sighed in disappointment and theatrically lowered the tablet into her lap. “I was hoping to crack that impenetrable mental armor of yours. I wanted to see you start cursing, waving your arms around, and wrecking the room in helpless rage. Was it really so hard to lose your mind for a minute?”

“The plan had a flaw from the start. I didn't throw pointless tantrums even during the worst days of my life,” I replied evenly. “Can we get to the point? And while we're at it, why are we sitting around in a private clinic instead of your research lab?”

“Tom, the answer's pretty obvious.” She smiled condescendingly, tilting her head slightly. “We engineers specialize in hardware, circuit boards, and software. When you need to take a living human body apart piece by piece, it makes more sense to use a facility that's actually equipped for it.”

“The fact that you don't have a medical degree didn't stop you from filling your lab with state-of-the-art encephalographs and bioscanners,” I shot back, folding my arms across my chest. “Weren't you the one bragging that the engineering center's budget was practically unlimited?”

“I'm rich and ambitious, Tom, but I'm not stupid enough to throw money around for no reason.” She rolled her eyes. “Why buy and calibrate tons of disposable medical equipment when it's cheaper and faster to rent an entire diagnostic wing, staff and all?”

“And the local doctors gave you unrestricted access to all that equipment without asking questions? As far as I know, that takes at least a medical license and a mountain of paperwork.”

“One phone call to the right person in the government takes care of all the formalities.” She waved the issue away. “So relax. Your medical records won't end up in the general database. Nobody but me knows what you actually transformed into.”

“Enough stalling. Give me the numbers and the facts.”

“If we boil down all the data we've collected, your evolution followed two parallel paths: the radical removal of vestigial structures and the optimization of existing systems.” She studied the data on the screen. “Which one should I start with?”

“Sounds like the classic question: good news or bad news first.” I gave a dry chuckle. “Start with the removal of vestigial structures.”

“Let's start with the most obvious external changes: the complete disappearance of body hair below the neck.” She glanced over my bare forearms. “Body hair served a thermoregulatory function in ancient times. In the modern world, it's practically useless. It can't protect you from even a light draft, but it's great at collecting dirt. Your body simply decided it wasn't worth keeping.”

“Fair enough.” I glanced at my legs. I couldn't think of a single time in my life when the hair there had provided me with any actual benefit. “What about the internal organs?”

“The wisdom teeth are completely gone. The jaw has changed shape slightly. It's more compact and, I have to admit, more aesthetically pleasing.” She framed my face with her fingers, studying my profile like a sculptor.

I mentally pulled up an image of my face from before the procedure and compared it with how it felt now. As far as I could tell, the changes were minimal, but arguing with a woman's eye for aesthetics was pointless.

“The coccyx has shrunk to a microscopic piece of cartilage about the size of a button. The appendix is completely gone, and the intestinal tract is half a meter shorter, but its absorptive capacity has increased severalfold. Your body can now extract virtually every available nutrient from the food you eat.” Selina swiped to the next page on her tablet. “And then there's the disappearance of your little toes. To maintain dynamic balance, a human being needs only the big toe and a properly formed arch. Everything else is ballast. Though I suppose you noticed that one yourself.”

I nodded silently, letting her continue.

“And this is where things get really interesting.” There was a triumphant note in her voice. “The genes responsible for excessive fat storage have been completely eliminated. Do you understand what that means? You are now physiologically incapable of gaining excess weight. Your subcutaneous fat layer has been reduced to the bare minimum and distributed perfectly evenly, while the metabolic resources that were freed up have been redirected toward building new muscle fibers.”

“That completely explains why the system removed the limit on the Strength stat,” I said. “My body now has the physiological foundation to keep increasing it. Although, if I am not mistaken, we are still on the subject of eliminating unnecessary features?”

“Let's just say I got a little carried away.” She gracefully adjusted her glasses. “One more important detail: your epidermis has lost its normal pigment barrier. Your skin can now absorb low-intensity ultraviolet radiation much more efficiently, accelerating vitamin D synthesis and instantly converting it into pure bioenergy.”

“So that is the natural optimization of the Endurance stat.”

“Junk removed. Now we move on to functional upgrades.” She practically sang the words, looking like she was reading off a list of personal victories. “A branching network of additional capillaries and microarteries has developed throughout your soft tissues. Blood now circulates at tremendous speed. The practical result? Your fingers will never go numb in freezing weather, your muscles will not stiffen from prolonged inactivity, and your fine motor control has reached an entirely new level of precision.”

“Agility upgrade. Got it.”

“And that is just the tip of the iceberg.” Selina tapped the tablet, brought up a high-contrast MRI image, and turned it toward me. “Your myocardium has been remodeled. Your stroke volume has nearly doubled, and your blood becomes saturated with oxygen almost instantly. The inner walls of your major blood vessels have also become so dense and smooth that atherosclerotic plaques simply cannot adhere to them.”

“From a practical standpoint, that is nothing extraordinary,” I said honestly. “I could have cleared organic debris from my bloodstream at any time with [Special Command].”

“How about the fact that your tooth enamel is now three times denser, while the altered composition of your saliva completely prevents cavity-causing bacteria from functioning? Are you still going to call that a useless feature?”

“No. That one is a major benefit.” I carefully ran my tongue along the inside of my incisors, registering their unfamiliar smoothness. “Never having to worry about cavities again? That is the dream of anyone who has ever sat in a dentist's chair.”

“That's more like it. So save the commentary and keep listening.” She pointed at the screen. “The intervertebral discs in your lumbar and sacral regions have become denser and taken on the structure of reinforced gel. Protrusions, herniated discs, and pinched nerves are no longer a concern for you. You could sit in an uncomfortable chair for days or lift your maximum weight without warming up. On top of that, your liver has begun synthesizing a unique group of enzymes that instantly break down virtually any toxin, from household chemicals, preservatives, and heavy metals to industrial smog. I suspect your body would not even notice chemical warfare agents or alien compounds.”

I held on to that thought for a moment, working through its logical implication.

“Wait. Does that mean Omega Plus won't work on me anymore?”

“That's exactly what it means.” An openly vindictive smile spread across her lips. “Your upgraded liver will burn through all that chemical garbage before it even reaches your bloodstream, leaving behind nothing but harmless trace elements. So you can cross off your plans to make me brew another batch.”

“I'll have to write that opportunity off as a loss.” I suppressed my disappointment over the lost profit. “What else is in the report?”

“Your neurological profile shows a perfectly balanced hormonal system.” She held up an electronic printout displaying the endocrine data. “In plain English, at the biological level, you are completely protected against clinical depression, panic attacks, and emotional burnout.”

“That sounds like the biological equivalent of my forced emotional suppression through [Special Command].” I frowned slightly, paying attention to my internal sensations. “But I don't feel like an emotionless chunk of silicon.”

“Because your command simply shut down your entire hormonal response. In the long run, that would inevitably have burned out your nervous system.” She wagged a finger at me. “Now the system works perfectly. If a land mine goes off nearby or a siren starts screaming, your body will instantly release exactly as much adrenaline as it needs to mobilize. But the moment the threat is gone, everything returns to normal within a second. No debilitating crash afterward, no PTSD, and no irritability from excess caffeine.”

“Now that's actually practical. Anything else?”

“Nothing major.” She lazily flipped through the last few charts. “Cosmetic optimization. Your sebaceous glands have been perfectly regulated. Your pores do not clog, and dermatological problems are essentially impossible.”

“When you patent and start manufacturing a universal treatment for skin problems based on my biochemistry, I expect a thirty percent royalty on sales. That applies to every drug developed from my biology.”

“Tom, you're getting way ahead of yourself.” She shook her head, although that familiar mischievous glint had returned to her eyes. Clearly, she had already thought about it. “First, we'd have to isolate the compounds, run a series of clinical trials, and get through the bureaucratic hell... That will take years.”

“I'm not in a hurry. The important thing is to put my share in the contract.”

“You've got a calculator where your heart should be and a balance sheet where your soul should be.” Selina let out a tired sigh but did not argue.

That concluded the analysis of my evolutionary results.

An hour later, I changed out of the hospital pajamas and into my usual civilian clothes, left the clinic, and stepped outside. The summer air in Washington felt unusually fresh and clear. I took a deep breath, assessing my altered center of gravity as I walked, and headed toward the nearest training facility. I needed to test the expanded stat limits in practice.

At that moment, my smartphone vibrated in my pocket. The number on the screen belonged to military police.