Chapter 23 (Part 1)

Bakker Clan Camp

May 26, 2065, 1:20 PM

"How's the treatment going?" I asked Roosevelt immediately, skipping any pleasantries.

"They're recovering, but some implants have already started rejecting. I've had to use several liters of nutrient mix to keep their bodies from devouring themselves during regeneration," Mike replied, pulling a lollipop from a desk drawer and popping it into his mouth.

"And how are their internal organs holding up? Such a cocktail of drugs is more than most livers can handle, especially for kids." I sat on the nearby chair, waving my hand expectantly.

"They had special implants for that, but those are also being rejected," Roosevelt tossed a candy at me, which I deftly caught and put in my mouth. "I just removed everything unnecessary."

"Despite all the efforts, the girls are still very emaciated," I said, assessing the appearance of the unconscious children and recalling the sight from a week ago.

"They'll recover quickly. The mutagen is starting to take root in their bodies, and soon they'll be just like you."

"They don't need to be like me." I snorted, gently tucking a stray lock of hair back on the blonde girl's gaunt face. She wrinkled her nose in discomfort and reflexively tried to move her head away at my touch. I withdrew my hand, not wanting to disturb her recovery.

"Feisty kid," Mike chuckled, watching my actions.

"The other one is calmer," I nodded, glancing at the second girl.

"Lucky they're still children. The mutagen in your body is too aggressive. It's a miracle they survived the transformation process in such a weakened state. It reminds me of Susan's words and your tests from a few years ago."

"Maybe the original mutagen sample underwent additional changes in my body, increasing its assimilation rate," I mused, falling into brief contemplation. "It's a plausible theory. We should conduct some experiments later."

"Don't talk too much about your abilities. Not everyone is trustworthy, and one day you could get into serious trouble because of it," the medic warned with a hint of concern.

"I know, I'm not a complete idiot," I sighed dramatically, which made my companion snort. "I'm just tired of hiding all the time," I suddenly switched to a serious tone. "Living each day with the thought that you could be exposed at any moment is exhausting. It literally eats you from the inside, and lying to the faces of those who warmly accepted me is emotionally draining." I pursed my lips, recalling all the bright moments I had spent with the Bakker clan.

"Forgive an old man, I've become quite grumpy," Mike apologized with an embarrassed smile, scratching his stubble-covered face.

"Don't worry about it," I said, waving my hand dismissively to show I wasn't offended. "I've gotten used to this kind of concern." Smiling, I leaned back against the chair. "But tell me, what are you all going to do about your optics?" I folded my arms across my chest, closely watching the flicker of emotions on Mike's face.

"There are two options. Either we all undergo surgery to restore our vision using lab-grown organs, or we have to resort to the most archaic optics available," Roosevelt drummed his fingers on the table in frustration, trying to make the right decision.

"Essentially, there's only one choice. I'm not a fan of that kind of surveillance, and I think many will agree with me. Living every day knowing you could stop being yourself at any moment isn't pleasant," I said, wearing a crooked smile as I processed Rachel's information. "We should also consider removing brain implants, leaving only the computational co-processors. I'll work with Vega on the software to solve the problem of external interference as quickly as possible, but even then, there's no 100% guarantee. You know as well as I do that no one wants to give up the benefits of civilization, myself included."

"It can be done, but carefully, right?" Mike sighed heavily, stopping his finger drumming.

"Exactly," I said, snapping my fingers theatrically, which made Mike roll his eyes dramatically.

"Has anyone ever told you you're impossible?" He raised an eyebrow aristocratically and leaned back in his chair.

"Countless times," I retorted, and we both burst into laughter in unison.

"Slacking off again?" Susan interrupted our brief idyll.

"Brother!" Rachel, who was in Susan's arms, quickly jumped down and ran towards me.

"Hey there, little one." I scooped up the joyful child and sat her on my lap.

"They're not awake yet?" Susan's daughter asked, placing a finger to her lips and turning halfway towards me.

"No, but they should be soon," I replied softly, "I hope."

"Al, stop worrying so much." Susan placed her hand on my head and ruffled my hair in a familiar gesture. "You've done everything you could and more. There's no need to blame yourself any further."

"Can we sto..."

I was cut off by a sudden beeping from the equipment, indicating that one of the girls was starting to wake up. Everyone fell silent and turned their attention to the slowly awakening blonde. After some effort on her part, she finally managed to open her eyes.

"Blue," Susan noted with a hint of amusement, glancing at me.

"Kh-kh," the girl tried to speak, but her throat, dry from the week-long coma, wouldn't cooperate.

"Drink slowly and in small sips," I said gently, bringing a cup with a straw to the blonde girl's lips. She slowly touched the straw with her lips and began to sip the vitamin-enriched liquid. The water had a slightly sweet and tangy flavor, making it quite pleasant to drink.

"Who are you, and where am I?" she asked in a hoarse voice, eyeing us warily.

"I'm Alex, and you're in a nomad camp." Lucy blinked in surprise, trying to understand how she ended up here. "We rescued you and another girl from an underground lab. She's lying to your left," I pointed to the neighboring cot where the silver-haired girl was still asleep.

"That's enough talking. The child needs rest, and you're disturbing her," Mike quickly began ushering us out, so we hurriedly left the room.

"Well, we've been kicked out," Rachel pouted, reluctant to climb down from my arms.

"The girl needs rest, and according to our doctor, we might have 'overdone' it a bit," I said, ruffling the younger O'Brian's hair, hearing her annoyed huff.

"Mike just wants to feel like a caring dad. Let him have his fun," Mitchell smiled, taking the child from my arms.

***

May 26, 2065, 5:50 PM

"It's really beautiful here," I said, slowly stroking Kiwi's head as it rested on my lap. We watched the sun slowly drift across the sky.

"Mmm-hmm." The blonde snuggled closer to me, stretching her arms toward my face.

"Do you want to check on the girls?" I asked, tilting my head back slightly after our prolonged kiss.

"It's late, and they need their rest."

"In that case, how about a ride? Just you, me, and the evening wastelands. What do you say?" I continued to tempt the already willing girl, judging by the sparkle in her eyes.

"Let's go for a ride!" she exclaimed, waving her hands excitedly.

"Ha-ha-ha, let's go then." I stood up with Kiwi and headed toward the car parked at our makeshift camp. "Passenger seat or do you want to drive?"

"Can I?" she asked in surprise, looking at the keys I held out with trepidation.

"Why not?" I handed her the car keys with a smile. "You drive just as well as the brothers, and they're pretty skilled."

"Thanks." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and wasted no time getting into the driver's seat.

"We've made some upgrades and added extra features. It's a lot livelier than it used to be," I said, fastening my seatbelt and activating the car's computer. "Here you go." I handed her the control visor, already set to adjust so she wouldn't have to spend extra time on it.

Kiwi smiled gratefully and started the car. After playing with the gas pedal a bit, she smoothly engaged the clutch and finally started moving. While she navigated out of the camp, I sent a short message to John to make sure he wouldn't worry. After all, he's the clan leader, and it would be rude not to inform him.

"John's been notified; we can go."

"Where to?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Anywhere," I replied, reclining in the seat and getting comfortable. "Let's just drive around the area and see where we end up."

Kiwi nodded briefly and gradually increased the speed. She took her time, smoothly mastering the car's controls. The suspension was perfectly adjusted this time, allowing me to close my eyes and drift into a light sleep. At some point, I actually dozed off and would have continued sleeping if Kiwi hadn't nudged me awake.

"Sorry, I fell asleep," I said apologetically, looking at the lovely face of the white-haired beauty. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, I just stopped at the dam's overlook and decided to wake you up."

"Got it," I replied, stretching my whole body and stifling another yawn before stepping out into the fresh air. "It's quite crowded here," I observed, surprised by the gathering crowd, trying to understand the reason for it.

"While you were asleep, I overheard something about street races in the wastelands. Looks like we arrived just in time for the event," Kiwi said, leaning against the car's rear bumper.

"Hey, you there, are you here to participate too?" A burly man in an Aldecaldo clan jacket approached us.

"We were just passing by. Why?" I arched an eyebrow, barely suppressing another yawn.

"We're organizing races in the wastelands, but people aren't too keen on off-road driving. Not many showed up, so there are a few spots left. Want to join?" The stranger looked at me expectantly, waiting for my decision.

"What do you say, Kiwi? Want to race?" I turned to the girl, who seemed deep in thought after my words.

"I don't mind," the blonde nodded. The nomad perked up a bit at her response.

"And by the way, what's your names?"

"Alex Mitchell and Kiwi Engel. We're from the Bakker clan."

"I'm Bob Sagan from Aldecaldo, nice to meet you," the man said, extending his hand, which I gladly shook.

"Can you explain the rules?"

"Nothing too complicated, just get to the finish line, preferably alive. Shooting at opponents' cars is allowed, but try not to go overboard. We don't want Militech sending their combat drones after us, right?" Sagan wiggled his eyebrows comically, making my companion burst into laughter.