Author : Michael Herbaugh a.k.a. “Freeman”
Itâ€™s eerie, ya know? Standing over myself, while I am performing surgery on my own body. â€œStandingâ€ is really a misnomer, itâ€™s more like I am suspended from the ceiling of the companyâ€™s surgical arena. I, that is my consciousness, am being held in a temporary construct, while I work to reconstruct my physical vessel. Today, with computers and the right equipment anyone can perform medical miracles, but it doesnâ€™t make it any less tedious nor is it any fun. This was a close one â€“ a lot of head trauma, so I have to rebuild a lot of brain tissue.
An implant doesnâ€™t make you immortal, far from it. You pretty much have to hit my implant directly or separate it from my body, but I can rattle off ten ways to kill me permanently without even trying. Right now, my thoughts are free to explore the morbid possibilities while I am in this holder machine repairing my organic self. The hard part is getting the body back here.
It all goes along with my line of work. When I started, one of my senior colleagues recommended getting the implant â€“ turns out it was entirely worth it. In my first year of service, this is my fourth near fatal encounter.
While Iâ€™m not immortal the implant gives me half a chance. Once Iâ€™m injured or sense trouble I just gather myself up and use the implant to jump back here to the office. Once here I use a holder machine to contact the authorities and recover my body.
Finished â€“ now for the hard part, getting back into my body.
â€œGod damn that hurts! I hate serving subpoenas.â€