8 Eenie Meenie Miney Mo

I woke up with a loud, piercing ringing in my ears.

I lay on my bed again, although, not the one I assumed in my first few seconds of consciousness. Instead of in my childhood bedroom-which had the bed I rebirth into-I found myself lying in my father's bedroom or rather mine seeing as I was now once again, head of state.

It was an equally comfortable yet excessively large bed in a room that bravely matched its size with a dressing table, two reading tables, a humble sitting area for tea and a fireplace.

Although, one of the reading tables was currently in-store somewhere as I found it replaced by an IV drip stand and an EKG and rather complicated looking machine. There were a lot of wires connected to me, especially on my head.

Stripping off the wires off me I made to move. But I immediately felt something was off. I push the duvet aside and find myself rather…incapable. I look for the connection and confirm it. I was connected to a Foley catheter.

I must have been in a coma. This was bad. I must have already been declared dead by Luciano and Matthias by now. Wait, what day is it?

I search the room but there's nothing I could use to tell the time. I touched my face, it was cleanly shaven. I couldn't know from that either. But it does tell me sometime has indeed passed.

I looked about me for the nurse call button, I soon find it hanging from a cord right beside my neck. I hit the button and wait.

Within a minute I hear the trampling of feet and with quick burst into my room a team of doctors appear in front of me, a few nurses followed behind them.

"Mister President, you're awake at last," one called out with an emotion that could be read as ecstatic or shocked. Made me wonder if someone forgot to dose me with sleeping medication.

"As you can see," I say with a dreary smile, the ringing in my ears hadn't stopped and I could barely hear myself speak, "Come closer and tell me what happened to me."

The man stumbled on his words a bit and grabbed a clipboard from the end of the bed. Intent on reading it, "Ah, yes sir, you fell asleep in your office, on the couch to be precise, your secretary found something was wrong when she tried to get you to move to your suites here." He cleared his throat, nervous for some reason or the other. There was something he wasn't exactly planning on telling me.

"Ah, we don't know what exactly caused you to suddenly go into a coma, we and the Russian doctors have been working in tandem to get you conscious but you were unresponsive to everything despite the readings and tests saying you were perfectly healthy."

"Russian doctors?" I inquired, they'd be the first foreign workers in the country since it's realization.

"Ah, yes," he gestured to the line of doctors behind him and four out of the seven stepped out, highlighting themselves, "The Russian government sent these fine men and women here to assist in our efforts."

At this, I smiled. It seemed the Russian president wasn't all that bad after all. Perhaps I won't have to replace him.

"Doctor…?"

"Truman, Doctor Truman,"

"Yes, Doctor Truman, how long have I been asleep for?"

***

The doctors informed me that I'd been in a coma for approximately two weeks and that the general public was aware of my position as their president thanks to a certain reporters publication of yet another article regarding me.

A two-week incapacitation was dangerous, especially when I hadn't completely suppressed the only two men who could make a power play. The only reason I wasn't dead yet again was because of the fluke contact made with the Russian President and his willingness to send doctors to observe my condition. Though I am quite certain those two were devising their plans to remove their unwanted presences from my side so they could make that coma much more…permanent.

Another reason why my two-week absence was a big no-no, was work. The nation needed a firm direction and two-weeks may not seem much but a lot of development projects could have been instituted by then. That's why the moment I heard how long I'd been under I called for my secretary and demanded to be...relived of the catheter stuck quite uncomfortably in me.

The removal was less than a comfortable process. The doctors forced me to drink a lot of water afterwards, my stomach felt heavy. They performed several physical tests, took my blood and handed me a cup for my urine.

In my insistence to leave bed rest at the very moment, I was given a wheelchair to sit in. My secretary intent on pushing me around. I shrugged and sat in it. It seemed a wheelchair would be the most the doctors would budge and I actually agreed with them, the ringing in my ears had yet to stop and it was beginning to make me dizzy. I withheld this fact from the doctors, of course, I was in no mood to being subjected to more poking and prodding. If it persisted I'd let them know as unwise as that sounds.

"Are you sure you are fit enough to get back to work, sir?" my secretary, Mireille asked, deeply concerned. She'd been fretting over me since she found me awake. She walked into the room with tears in her eyes relieved that I was still alive.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you for your concern, Mireille." Today I had observed that she wore trousers in favour of her usual short black mini-skirt and leggings to work. I guess with me incapacitated she no longer had someone to show off to.

Despite her disarming feminine looks, she was not a person to be trifled with. During the war, she found herself fighting against father as a child soldier for mercenary men. Needless to say, she didn't only serve as a soldier. Father's men captured her and many of her friends.

Rehabilitation was a long process. I could still remember her being entirely subservient to all those around her, often offering herself when she found she'd done something to displease.

Quickly disgusted by this, my mother took to educating both the boys and girls. It was a desperate and trying period. Many were displaced from their homes as the borders were formed as well. And though we allow free travel to Madagascar, security is tightened for returnees and immigrants trying to reunite with their families here. It was one of the many problems Schelarian citizens faced.

We finally got to my office. There I saw Luciano and Matthias seated. They rise and salute my arrival and I direct Mireille to set me behind my desk.

"If you need anything I'm right outside, Sir."

With Mireille gone I looked through my desk. It'd been tampered with annoyingly arranged in a manner I wasn't exactly sure of.

"How are you feeling, Hasina?" Matthias nervously asks, "We just received news that you had awoken."

"I'm fine, Matthias," I say as I set my eyes on what I'd been looking for in a drawer, "Both of you, get out. Come back with a compiled summary of what's happened in these two weeks and make sure to make it comprehensible."

"Ah…"

I look up to Matthias who looked like a father being shunned by his kids and chuckled, "I'm sorry, I just woke up from a coma, I'm not in a very social mood. We'll talk later, hm? Matthias, Luciano." my smile was wide and genuine but no doubt they still took it for sarcasm, perhaps I should give them a hug?

"Yes, that would be alright, sir." Luciano says, standing at attention with his cap tucked to his side, "Good day, sir." He says curtly as he marched out with Matthias following closely behind, albeit looking a bit sunken.

As the door closes behind them, I wait for a few seconds, to make sure Matthias doesn't change his mind after all and come in again. Once I'm certain he won't return I pick up the glowing sheet of paper I found in my desk drawer.

Noticeably, once I picked it up the ringing in my ears was instantly replaced by a voice speaking to me.

"You've woken up. For however long you have been asleep, you must now begin to carry out my project. Remember, you have until the end of your life to do so."

It seems it wasn't just a coma dream. Letters appeared on the still glowing sheet and the voice read them out loud.

"Like I determined the last we spoke. To enhance your productivity and chances at success, you will be given a choice between two of several augmentations. Two is the most I can manage without being caught. Choose what will lead to quick results."

Augmentations? I wanted answers. I needed to know if my reality was real or not.

"I will begin listing out your available choices, call out your choice at the end. Invulnerability, flight, strength, invisibility, speed, force field, phasing, regeneration, pain infliction, all-tongue, language, knowledge…."

The list went on for an hour. I listed a few that I found rather interesting as many on the list rendered others obsolete as well. Wondered why the being bothered listing them even.

I looked down at my list deliberating what to pick out of the five I'd drawn out; Persuasion, Telekinesis, Regeneration, Pain infliction and Intelligence gathering.

Persuasion would be ultimately invaluable to me, especially in my profession but there's nothing a little pain can't make happen.

Telekinesis would be brilliant as well. I'd hold myself up in the air and proclaim myself the messiah. Plus, I'd never have to use my muscles again. Lazy but useful.

Regeneration was a no-brainer. I would love to survive bullets to the head but I wasn't completely sure it extended that far. The being had listed so many abilities but never came around to describing their full capabilities.

Pain infliction. For a sadistic being like myself, this was brilliant. But again. I didn't know if he'd just appear with torture tools and leave or if this was a lot more…psychic. "How does pain infliction work?"

"You have chosen pain infliction as your first choice. Wise choice. You have one more choice."

My eyes widened, "What? No! I didn't choose it. Undo! Undo!"

No response. Shit.

I sighed and choose next best in the list, "Intelligence gathering."

"You've chosen your two…advantages." I chuckle at the being's reluctance to accept its cheating, "Standby for installation and tutorials. Sleep."

Tutorials? Sleep? Wait Wha-