Chereads / Welcome to Dirt City / Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Clinical Trials

Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Clinical Trials

I'm handicap. Here I am inside the NeuroSuture Haven, For short, I'm at the Plug-In clinic. When you walk in the Plug-In . Despite the degradation, there are still evidence of life within the NeuroSuture Haven. A temporary infirmary has been built up in one corner, where volunteer medics care for the sick and injured with whatever resources they can find. Rows of handmade cots surround the walls, each filled by a tired soul seeking refuge from the harsh realities of the outside world. 

I'm sitting in the waiting room that is just a black screen away from the infirmary. I watch aimlessly as the receptionist types on an old Microsoft computer. "Can I have M47H2 Miller."

"Fred!" I look to the roht at a heavy built man with a crooked goatee. "I have knee pain."

"Ok sir, how long have you had knee pain?" she asks politely. "Two fucking weeks." he says. "Are you on medication?".

"That Neuro-Enhanced Formula." he says. "I take about half a pill and sell the rest."

The woman creases her brown, "Fred you can't sell your medication."

"Remember I showed up last year for a cough?"

She sighs, "Yes."

"I work here."

"Can I have Enya Ishim?" she averts the comment and I get up and walk to the desk. "Do you have your Biometric Authentication?" she asks and types at the PC.

Nobody uses Microsoft anymore. Sia is the only computer available. The Psi Brotherhood priced technology at 500,000 Gs. I don't know who stole but they did.

"Why do we need Biometric Authentication?" asks Fred. "I have NeuroID."

"Outdated. We no longer use NeuroID."

Fred gets up and walks over to the desk. He lays down the card and points at the detail with his finger. "Fred Miller, right there. So, under my name is ID card." he sneezes. "I was born in March on the 23 of this year. You see that?"

"We don't use NeuroID." she explains. "Well I bought the damn card for five dollars—"

"It doesn't matter!" she smacks the table. "We have a new form of Identification. You aren't the only man here!"

"Y'all got the whole system fucked up because I remember that when this bitch sold donuts and I never got my Frosty Cream Delight!"

"This is the clinic!" she bolts out her seat. "Get out!"

"Y'all don't even sell Jumba Juice—I was told, Stacy," he stares at her. "By Nightowl Yoshimitsu—Fickle—He lives on CHIP 113W, that stands for the west—"

"Will you get the fuck out!" this nurse is so pissed she removes her little cute blue slippers and throws them at Fred. "He drives a JunkRat 2000, that means the year 2000!" he jabs the desk. She turns to me, "Doctor Kaspar Neumann is to the left of the building. In the 8th door with a smiley face sticker near the knob. Have you had any drugs in the last 30 days or any pain?" she rushes her words. "No..."

"I have!" he sticks his neck out. "Go on sweetie."

I move to my doctor's office and briefly catch the last word of a strange argument. "I have cancer!" Fred yells. "Ok, let me call the PRU." She grabs the vintage phone from the desk. "21..." she began with the metropolis code. Fred speeds out of the clinic. I look back and see this man fall outside. 

I stand outside my doctor's office and rap against the door. "Come in." I hear and open the door. "Oh, Enya." he smiles. He goes through his dresser and pulls out a folder. "Today, I have to look at the socket. Are you still doing Zero-G?"

He looks through the folder. "Yes." I roll my eyes. "My eyes are fine."

"Did you know," he flips through the folder licking his lips. "That the side effects of Zero-G. Are Vision Impairment, Bone Density Loss, Psychological Effects, and Reproductive Issues." I sit down in the chair in front of his desk. "No. It's been tested." I say. "It has but did you also know." he faces the papers in the folders. "The drug testing were carried out on a space station that had labs set up to replicate microgravity conditions. Many Zero-G Pharmaceuticals' experimental medications were given to test subjects, including astronauts and lab animals."

I'm confused. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Felishomo sapiens." He slaps a paper down. "NeuroCortex-Enhance is a gene in cats when experimented on." He looks at me. "Enya, not to be racist. But Felishomo sapiens is pretty special. They cost about billions."

"I just need my eyes checked." I gesture towards my eyes. "Graceful Agility," he checks something off. "Enhanced Senses, Mysterious Aura, Innate Curiosity, and Mesmerizing Gaze."

"So?"

"Why are you so short? Soldier."

"I'm 5'9."

"Felishomo sapiens range from approximately 152 cm to 183 cm."