Chương 25: Ch 16b - Cuff

Flavitt's clammy hand trembles as he clicks the cuff closed over her wrist.

"Complete," he announces in quiet self-congratulation. Keeping his head down he quickly releases her hand and hurries to collect up his tools that are scattered across the table between them. Cara draws her arm back; the additional weight of the cuff is noticeable but has little impact on her movements. Indeed, the new cuff looks no different to the old one, certainly it is the same size, she can tell by the way it lines up with the angry red scratches on the inside of her forearm.

She begins to tug her sleeve down from the crook of her elbow. Flavitt must have noticed the marks but he hasn't said anything. She is numb from the rolling waves of despair that have extracted all her tears, and exhausted from fighting off the memories that keep trespassing into her head. Flavitt's visit to fit her new cuff has been a welcome change to the four walls of her room. The cuff glows blue. Haptics vibrate through her arm making her flinch.

"Uh, that's the bio re-sync completing," Flavitt says, "It's ready to use now."

"Quick work," Gask says over Cara's shoulder. Flavitt beams, lifting his head, his eyes skittering across the room from object to object, never quite finding their faces.

"I had to retro fit some of the old tech that Trade still use to make the adjustments for no optic interfaces. It's never been done before with these Trisec R2R07 models. In fact, most people would have said it couldn't be done but then I remembered the R2R's still have a base plate component and I could use that to house a reformer. I'm going to submit an innovation report to the engineering council and suggest some safeguard revisions for the next R2R08 iteration."

"You'd better clear that with Vheece first," Gask frowns, "How would you explain the need for the adaptations you've made?" Flavitt's pale face drains of any residual colour.

"Uh, y-yes, right, y-yes of c-course," he stammers. His rounded shoulders slump further. He is in such contrast to the others Cara has met here. Draig. Wyndeer and his team. They all seem to be in peak fitness, muscles clearly visible through their clothes. Bulging through in the case of Crathsun. Even Gask, though of a slighter frame, has a toned physique. Her shoulders and hips are angular from firmed muscles not a lack of body mass.

Of course, they are all military of some sort so presumably a level of fitness is required. She can't recall much of the couple on Xiatt. In her panic she hadn't cared to observe their physique. All she can recall of Argatta is her bobbing head.

"Let's have a quick demonstration." Gask gestures at the wall, "Throw the visuals up there so Cara can follow." Cara looks dubiously at the wall. Uninspiring pure white. Flavitt clears his throat, his index finger gestures at her arm, "Can I…I need…the erm." Cara looks down at her arm in confusion.

"We need the cuff, Cara," Gask says with mild annoyance as she grabs Cara's arm, pulling it back onto the table in front of Flavitt. Flavitt's finger hovers above the cuff's brassy surface. With the deftness of a hummingbird he makes two quick prods. Cara hears a faint blip in her left ear as the white wall comes alive with scrolling lists and three vertical columns of icons.

"Have you restricted her access correctly?" Gask frowns, her eyes darting across the colours and shapes filling the previously plain wall.

"There are more functions than I was expecting."

"Uh, yes." Flavitt responds quickly, "The system isn't used to so many reductions in the standard functions. It was quicker to disable without removing from the display interface otherwise I would have been forced to custom design a new layout. As you can see," his finger traces a zigzag across her cuff, "Access is denied to all but the core communications modules." Icons on the wall alternate flashing a dull orange, seemingly in response to his finger movements.

He is swiping so fast she can't determine a connection between his movements and the individual colour changes on the wall.

"Good," Gask murmurs.

"It's been a while since I've operated it so manually. Let's show her a simple connection. Why don't you connect with me?"

"Uh," Flavitt's shaky hand twists her wrist, exposing her inner forearm.

"Slide a finger along the rim here." His finger traces along the thin cuff rim at her wrist. A new list appears on the right-hand side of the wall, scrolling from bottom to top at the pace of his finger movement.

"I've top loaded for primary contacts." His finger stops, a line item glows yellow.

"And a quick flick will make the connection." He makes a tiny flick with his thumb against the cuff. A short pip sounds in her right ear.

"Perfect!" Gask in the room and the inner Gask in her head say in unison. Cara blinks at the list on the wall. When it had first appeared, she had skimmed over a series of curved lines and circles. But now the realisation dawns on her that she can read the lines and circles. Orange Gask 4O11TrisecMX3. The line below reads Orange Wyndeer 7O06TrisecSO12. The markings are familiar yet unfamiliar. She reads them as if reading her mother tongue yet she instinctively knows it isn't English.

With an increasing feeling of dread she tries to picture English writing in her head. A simple sentence: My name is Cara. The words hang in her mind. Unmistakable, but somehow wrong. The letters of her name read as Cara but is that how she has spelt it in every email, written it on every form? Perhaps she should try a line from a song? Maybe the cover of a book? Something that is tied to a visual image so that she can force the English letters to form. She thinks of the box of her favourite granola.

She has the same cereal for breakfast almost every morning. It is blue with the tumbling image of granola cascading into a bowl. She can picture the details. The red bowl. The individual oats and raisins. The splash of white milk in the background. But panning up the box to the name she can visualise only an out of focus suggestion. A fuzzy representation of lines joining and curving. The more she tries to focus on the letters the further away and more disconnected they become.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Her fingers curl in annoyance making her forearm flex against the cuff. The simple name refuses to form in her mind. Yet there, on the wall in front of her, clear and unmistakable, are the names; Orange Gask, Orange Wyndeer, Pink Draig, Red Crathsun, Violet Magse. More names follow below, waiting to be scrolled into view.

"Cara?" Gask's voice, loud inside and outside of her head, intrudes into her thoughts, "Say something back."

"I – er – hi," Cara manages. She feels a tightening around her head as a headache looms.

"Good." Gask's gaze lingers on her in an uncomfortable pause before she breaks into an encouraging smile, "Good work Flavitt. The connection can be closed with the opposite flick. Show her." Flavitt's thumb reverse-flicks over her cuff. A small pip sounds in her left ear.

"As simple as that," Gask's voice says outside of her head.

"It's the same motions to accept an incoming comms – a flick in to open and a flick out to close."

"Right," Cara mumbles, staring numbly at the wall. The bright colours and movement are an affront to her eyes after the monochrome of white and grey that has painted her life on the Wixam so far.

"Uh, and you can change the volume on your cuff here," Flavitt says. Cara drags her eyes away from the wall and down to the cuff just as Flavitt finishes a swirl with his finger.

"Or of course, directly on the conduction device." His finger motions behind his own ear then drops quickly out of view onto his lap. Cara tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. The cuff is restrictive and unwanted on her arm. She wishes she'd paid more attention to how Flavitt had fastened it.

"What about messaging and visual comms, Flavitt? Are you going to show her those next?" Gask prompts. Flavitt's cheeks flush, "Uh no. V-Vheece said just audio for now. I uh..." he trails off. Gask frowns, "Seems unnecessarily limiting. Well then, that makes the demonstration very short. Cara, why don't you have a practice by yourself. You can connect with either of us if you wish. Perhaps practice selecting some of the icons, even if you can't flick through to any of them. You'll soon pick it up." Cara nods mutely.

"Flavitt, can I ask you about the algorithm behind the latest bio monitoring report while you are here?" Gask motions to her office.

"What about, I mean, how do I take it off?" Cara asks. Gask has already turned towards her office, Cara cannot see her face, but she sees the doctor's shoulders stiffen and the small misstep as she halts and turns.

"You don't need to take it off."

"But. It's just. Sometimes my skin, it gets itchy. Under my watch strap. That sort of thing."

"It's perfectly safe to keep on. The inner membrane will keep your skin healthy and regulated." Gask dismisses her with an absent wave of her hand, disappearing into her office, a jittery Flavitt following behind her. Cara sighs, letting out a long breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding on to. Above her on the wall the colourful screen waits expectantly. Cautiously, she brushes her index finger lightly over the cuff. The display remains unaffected. She tries again, a more deliberate slide across the surface.

Nothing. She tries the zigzag movement Flavitt had used to prove he had restricted her access. The display on the wall remains static. Frustrated she presses three fingertips down, zigzagging haphazardly as she twists her arm back and forth. The wall lights up with angry flashing oranges. She pulls her hand back quickly, glancing towards Gask's office. There is no interruption to their low murmuring voices. She tries again, a drawn-out zigzag where the cuff covers the top of her forearm.

A subtle shade change on the display tracks the path of her finger on the wall. She stops over a square icon crossed through with two forward leaning diagonal lines. She taps the cuff. Nothing changes. She taps repeatedly. Nothing happens. Recalling Flavitt's thumb flicks she tries a swift pick against the surface of the cuff. The icon rewards her with an orange glow. Finally, she is getting the hang of it, she thinks, leaning forward in her chair to watch the wall as she tries more movements.

She continues her exploration. Icon after icon rewards her with an access denied orange glow. The novelty quickly begins to wane. She tries an icon of three triangles surrounded by a circling arrow and almost lets out a yelp as the wall display changes to a collection of interconnected rectangles of different shades of grey. A glowing white dot pulses inside one of them. She swipes and zigzags and flicks, but the display does not respond.

"Great," she mutters to herself. She looks to Gask's door. She could ask for help, or, the realisation dawns on her, she could try connecting with one of them. Pursing her lips she studies the cuff. Flavitt had rotated her arm to the underside of the cuff and traced a finger along the rim by her wrist. Relief soothes her forehead as the list of names starts scrolling on the wall to the right of the rectangles.

Selecting a name proves trickier, the rim of the cuff is very sensitive to her touch, even a small movement sends the list spinning. With careful manipulation she brings Gask's name into focus. Step one complete, she thinks, now for the flick of her thumb. With what feels like a disproportionate effort in concentration she flicks her thumbnail inwards. A short pip sounds in her right ear. She sits back, smiling broadly.

"Yes?" a male voice speaks in her head. Fuck.

"Hello? Cara?" A flush of horror sweeps over her as she glances at the wall. Pink Draig 6O12SSTrisecSA88.

"Oh shit," she groans.

"What? Cara?" Draig's voice calls out sternly. She fumbles as she tries to flick her thumb outwards to end the call. Her thumb tip skids and slides across the metal surface. She tries again but her shaking hand collides clumsily with the cuff.

"Cara?" Draig's voice bounces loudly inside her skull. She swears under her breath, cursing herself for not asking Flavitt to slow down his demonstration.

"Shhh!" she says to the cuff as she frantically swipes.

"SHH?" Draig's voice echoes in her head. Her fingers swirl on the cuff.

"CARA?" his voice is so loud it makes her teeth vibrate.

"Ow! Shhh! Too loud," she pleads.

"WHAT?" Her shoulders rise as if they can cushion her ears from the voice that is trapped inside her head.

"Shhhhh! Please just shut up!" Her thumb claws desperately at the cuff. A small pip sounds in her left ear. Silence descends in a sweeping curtain of relief. She sinks back into the chair. Draig's name mocks her on the wall. She slaps at the cuff in resentment and frustration. The display vanishes, leaving her looking at the cooling white of the wall and listening to the slowly building thrum of a headache. She closes her eyes, shrinking further down the chair.

"Did you just connect with Draig?" Gask's voice calls out somewhere behind her.

"Um, yes," Cara says, keeping her eyes firmly shut, "accidentally."

"Yes, she did." There is an amusement in Gask's voice.

"We left her practicing. Flavitt fitted her custom cuff. Yes. She said what?" Gask's light tones fade in and out as she speaks from the office. Cara's toes curl at the thought of Gask and Draig laughing at her. There is a shuffling noise to her left, Cara braces herself for Gask's laugh as she cracks open one eye. Flavitt stands awkwardly, his rounded shoulders slope deeper on the side where he carries his large case of tools.

"I uh, I once accidentally connected with a Green on an emergency channel to confirm delivery of galidiser components," he says, squeezing his lips together in an exaggerated grimace. Cara opens her other eye and sits up, her confusion transforming into understanding.

"Oh. That's not good I guess?" she offers.

"Not good at all," Flavitt replies with the briefest twitch of a smile.

"Uh. At least you didn't connect with Vheece."

"True," she smiles back. He shuffles the case to his other hand, breaking eye contact with her to search the room for another place to fix his gaze.

"Thanks, Flavitt, " she says, acknowledging the effort it has taken for him to speak to her. He nods briefly then makes his way out of the main doors.