Derek Goodman - The Reanimation of Edward Schuett

“We’re going someplace where we can hopefully answer a few questions—the main campus for the Center for Reanimation Studies located at Land’s End University in California. In your time I believe it was called Stanford.”

“California,” Edward said. Strangely, given the circumstances, he felt a growing excitement. He’d barely even left the state for most of his life. The only thing resembling a vacation he’d ever been on had been when he’d gone with Julia to visit his in-laws in the Upper Peninsula, but that had been far too nerve-racking to be enjoyable. Not that he thought this trip would actually be fun, but that small excitement remained.

Of course, that still left a problem. He wasn’t stupid. There was a good chance this was a one-way trip. Whether they decided to keep him somewhere for further study or at some point they decided he was too much of a problem and disposed of him, it wasn’t likely he would be returning to Wisconsin any time soon, if ever. That part wasn’t so hard to accept. After all, this place wasn’t his home anymore, not really. But there still might be things here he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere else.

“Wait, my family,” Edward said. “That woman Rae, she said she was going to look for any records of what happened to them.”

Gates paused and gave him a concerned look. “I do hope you realize how jumbled the records are from that time. There is very little likelihood that any such information exists.”

“Rae already filled me in on that. But please, if you want me to cooperate, can’t you please have someone look?”

Gates frowned but still took out her pad and pen to jot down a few notes. “It’s not impossible. But you do realize that if you want anything we find, we will need your full and unconditional cooperation on everything. Understood?”

“Understood completely,” Edward said. He hoped she didn’t hear the hesitation in his voice. He had the sneaking suspicion that he might learn to regret that agreement later.

“Okay then,” Gates said. “Dr. Concordia, whenever you’re ready.”

The doctor gestured over to the stairs. “Perhaps you would like to sit down, Mister…”

“Schuett,” Edward said. “Why would I need to sit down?”

“I’ve been asked to check all your vital signs and do a few tests,” Dr. Concordia said. “Although it might be helpful if you told me any symptoms you’ve been feeling?”

“Symptoms?” Edward asked. “Um…”

“Edward, Dr. Concordia was brought here on last minute notice,” Gates said. “He has been sworn to secrecy as to anything he finds with you, but I thought it might be…call it telling, if he came into this blind with no expectations about what he will find with you.”

“You mean,” Edward said, “you really can’t tell just by looking at me?”

“You’re pale and seem to have some sort of bad skin condition, but other than that I cannot gather anything just by looking at you,” the doctor said.

Edward looked at Gates. “But, I just looked in a mirror maybe half an hour ago…”

“Let the doctor do his job,” Gates said. “We’ll discuss the details later.”

Edward took a seat on one of the lower stairs, and Dr. Concordia opened his case. Mostly it contained standard doctor’s tools, although there were a few devices Edward didn’t recognize. The doctor took out an object slightly larger than his hand, a squat black cylinder on a square base. There were buttons and a digital readout on the base, but the cylinder was completely smooth except for a small black opening over the readout. The doctor kneeled next to Edward, put the device on the ground, and then pulled a syringe and rubber cord from the case.

“Hold out your arm, please,” the doctor requested. Edward did. It was a good thing Edward wore short sleeves, since otherwise Dr. Concordia would have needed to roll up the filthy and ragged cloth. The doctor wrinkled his nose in disgust as he wrapped the cord around Edward’s forearm and swabbed the crook of his elbow with alcohol, and Edward was reminded how terrible he probably smelled.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way I could get some new clothes anytime soon?” Edward asked Gates.

“That’s one of the things I asked the driver to get while we’re waiting here,” Gates said. “I’m sure those old things smell just as bad to you as they do to us.”

Actually, Edward thought there was something vaguely pleasant and reassuring about the way they smelled, but he was sure that wasn’t how he was supposed to answer. Instead he just stayed quiet.

The doctor used the syringe to fill a vial with Edward’s blood, then stuck it in the opening of the black device. Immediately it began to whir. “What is that thing, anyway?” Edward asked. The doctor gave him a confused look.

“Uh, what does it look like?”

“Don’t have a clue,” Edward said.

“How could you not know…” the doctor started, but Gates cut him off.

“Remember what I said, Doctor. No unnecessary conversations with Mr. Schuett.” Gates looked at Edward. “It’s similar to the blood centrifuges doctors used in your time, but portable and capable of greater analysis in a shorter timeframe.” The doctor frowned when she said “in your time,” but he didn’t speak any more.

The rest of the tests were pretty standard. The doctor checked his blood pressure and his heartbeat, as well as some basic tests for eye movement or pupil dilation or whatever the hell it was. Edward didn’t really know what most of the tests were actually supposed to discover.

The black device was still whirring as the doctor put all his instruments away. “On the outside, he seems mostly fine,” he said to Gates. “A few irregularities, although nothing I would consider alarming if not for his pale coloring or the scabs on his skin.” The doctor looked back at Edward, and he paused for a moment, blinking several times. “Although I must not be paying nearly enough attention as I should have. When he first got out of the car his skin condition seemed worse to me.”

After a few more seconds the device stopped whirring and instead made a ding like an egg timer. The doctor stooped down to look at the readout. “Now let’s take a look at this. Most levels look fine. Hmmm, some very strange blood sugar levels. What about…” He pressed a few buttons. “Looks like he tests negative on all major diseases. Wait…” He stopped pressing buttons and stared down at the device. He didn’t move for many seconds, but when he did he stood up and slowly backed away from Edward.

“What is it, Doctor?” Gates asked.

“I think you already know,” the doctor said. “Or else I wouldn’t be here.”

Edward noticed that Dr. Concordia suddenly wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“The Animator Virus?” Gates asked.

“In unprecedented levels. Miss Gates, what the hell is that thing?”

From a person to a thing in just a few minutes. Edward would have felt hurt if he hadn’t already been half-expecting that response.

Something about his feelings must have shown on his face, because Gates looked at him, gave him a pitying look, and the gestured at Dr. Concordia. “Doctor, let’s go talk over here,” she said. “Bring the blood tester so we can take a closer look at the results.”

The two of them moved out of earshot, but he continued to watch them. Gates looked calm through the whole conversation, but the doctor’s demeanor kept changing. For several minutes he grew more and more agitated until Gates put a hand on his shoulder and appeared to say soothing things. He calmed down as he showed her various things on the blood tester. Whatever else it said, it couldn’t have been simple because they talked for an awfully long time.