he elevator dinged away, floor after floor, more people piling in and leaving with every succeeding floor. Hazard's floor eventually came up and he exited with a few more bodies dispersing into the hall with him. It was easy to find the lab he was looking for because there only two in the immediate area, both adjacent to each other. Hazard entered the first one, and met with the site of a wide open space of white polished floor reflecting the translucent lights from above. There were only two tables on either side of the room with a plethora of bottles and stainless steel devices scattered about their surfaces. There were two other furnishings present, one appeared to be an operating table—fixed to the floor, made of steel, heavy, adjustable by hydraulics—and the other was once desk situated comfortably in the corner with various items organized atop with care. Behind it sat a vaguely ethnic man dressed in a lab coat.
The moment Hazard entered, the man looked up for a moment before getting up from his chair and walked over in a relaxed manner. "Haze Hazard, I presume," he acknowledged. Hazard gave no reply, leaving the man to inspect his nametag to confirm. "My name is Michael Zhou and I will be your physician for the time being. I've just been reviewing your physique and psyche records, and judging whether you are ready for the neural augmentations that Susanne Daega herself requested that Sharp Edge install into your subsystems, along with reequipping you with the specially issued armament."
Hazard scratched the back of his neck in confusion.
"I will explain: It's actually owing to the unfortunate death of Sharp Edge's last chief of security, Joseph Valentine, that this package was sent to you. It was essentially a perk for him undergoing life extension while already serving diligently as Sharp Edge's security chief for several decades." At this, the physician shook his head forlornly. "The alleged circumstances surrounding his death were very surprising, however, I assure you that he was nothing less than professional in his duties."
Valentine worked for Sharp Edge? Vegas really was a small world. Hazard couldn't help but grimace at the idea that he had acquired his employment only because Sharp Edge had drawn the connection between him and Valentine.
"That being said," Michael Zhou continued, "Valentine took a leading interest in human enhancement bioengineering back when Sharp Edge was a leader in the development of military arms. That interest carried over when Daega Industries became the holding company of Sharp Edge's R&D division and merged security service deparments. The enhancements are still essentially prototypes in the testing phase that is about to be rolled out worldwide, as long as the subjects don't turn green and grow a pair of antennas, if you pardon the expression," the physician chuckled. "Installation and use may carry certain risks of which we may not be aware, but the benefit is that you would be bring in funding from Daega Industries. The director's of Sharp Edge have taken an interest in your background, and should you perform well, are considering to elevate your rank to an officer of security and hope you will work towards the position of Security Chief."
"I will try to keep this brief in case you decide to refuse; the primary installation is a device, implanted in the brain, that is meant for telecommunication for field agents, but by the nature of what Daega Industries requires in experimental data, it can, and will be used as a remote observational device. What you see, they could see as well, however, this contract of consent that you may sign when ready, stipulates that monitoring can only be conducted by Sharp Edge Comms. Control and all transmissions are to be shutdown when you are not on duty. That is it, in a nutshell."
Hazard nodded, intrigued by the idea of radio—he assumed—communication without the need for a dedicated device or earpiece. How it would work was a big question building on his mind. Would it work like Santelli's pseudo-telepathy? When the doc mentioned devices resulting from human enhancement bioengineering, it seemed to imply something that would not rely on individual perception, but rather a proper feed of electronic data.
"But before we get to that business, simple things first; we will start with the armor, which Sharp Edge will go ahead and reassign it as your mandatory uniform. And really, no need to protest something lighter and more flexible than those vests we sometimes have you wear," the physician said with a sly grin.
Hazard frowned at the idea of opting out a ceramic thermo-ballistic shield vest for experimental body armor, especially given the key words 'light' and 'flexible', since quality was sometimes distinguished by weight and bulk.
"The problem is that the armor needs to be personalized and I will need you to strip down for the laser body mapping we will need to do, because the armor itself is of a rather peculiar design and needs to be refitted to your exact body shape. Our laser rig here is the perfect tool to clock your exact dimensions that will be applied to the armor. This may seems excessive, but I assure you, with the materials it is made from, it is best not to be perfunctory."
Hazard shrugged, figuring if that was the case then he could probably fit a vest over himself in a pinch.
"The papers for you to sign are on that table over there," the physician pointed, "you can leave your weapons and clothes there. I'll be waiting at the operating table once you are ready."
Hazard only took a short time reading over the papers. Aside from the signer's acknowledgement of health risks involved, there were several pages worth of specifications for the modifications that he would be undergoing. Lines upon lines of eight piece words (five-dollar words to natives of Vegas) talking about the chemical compounds involved and surprisingly enough, excerpts of encoding data for molecular programming applied to a colloid. Things that were beyond the understanding of a Trooper. The basic functions seemed harmless enough and Hazard's name was signed on the line withing five minutes. The doc waited patiently as Hazard removed his belt, jacket and shirt, shoes and trousers last.
"Are you ready to begin?" Michael asked. Hazard nodded. The physician motioned for him to lay on the operating table that Hazard had seen upon entering the room. Now lying down on it, he began to note the impressive number of gadgets suspended over the operating table, all the metallic arms built into a large revolving apparatus. He didn't even know what half of them were meant to do, only finding the one that would do the laser scan once the lens powered on just above his head.
"Could you please spread your arms for me? Thanks. Now, close your eyes, and don't move, don't breath, and think happy thoughts. We'll start with your head so the laser doesn't sneak up on you later."
Hazard felt the arm buzzing electronically around his head as the laser began pulsing, moving from one side of his head to the other is a semi-circle fashion. It was going rather slowly, though that was probably for the ludicrously accurate image that it was taking of his skull. He could practically feel the burn of the intense light and thought that they were getting an MRI of his brain while they were at it. Once it started to pass over his eyes and the sensations were threatening to make hazard blink, Michael began to speak again.
"One thing, actually, that I forgot to inquire about: the neural augmentation procedure itself is minimally invasive except for some of the accessories that come with the modifications that require electrodes to be embedded into your bones. Those would tie in with protocols to keep you in house until your incisions would be fully healed. However, we are aware that you have been already tasked with escorting a duo of Vegas University interns. The choice ultimately fall onto you whether you want the full package and get a reassignment to patrol or guard duty in-house, or we can simply leave the more invasive procedures for a later date."
Hazard shifted around in thought, not really holding a preference to the dull routine of patrolling halls in a building or chaperoning two interns for a field study. Sharp Edge must have had little for him to do following an apparent near bankruptcy from the past, that or they were already playing favorites. Neither would surprise him. He had a choice instead of orders.
"Blink once for 'complete surgery' and twice for 'non-invasive'," Michael said to evoke a response, taking Hazard's silence as effort in keeping still for the lasers that had already move onto mapping his jaw.
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