Chương 19: (Rewritten) Ch. 19 - Sleepyhead Ahead

Ch. 19 - Sleepyhead Ahead"Plans don't survive contact with me. Boobs are awesome." – Reality I slowly, peacefully, rose from slumber. Before I'd really become aware of that fact, Tynea's soft voice played through my head, Tinea, good morning. How are you?!!! A wide smile split my lips upon hearing my new name. I snapped my eyes open, only to slam them shut again and groan against a spiking headache after a mess of colors crashed into me.

But, I was wide awake and a fresh and new happiness shot through me from having that wish come true. So, I took a deep breath to greet Tynea.

And was immediately distracted by how different my proprioception felt. There was a new weight on my chest. Or perhaps, my chest was a new weight on me? But even beyond the shapely obvious, drawing air through my mouth and throat felt different. I was smaller, lighter, and… stronger. I felt light as a feather. Like I could hit the top of the cocoon just by flexing my shoulder blades. Before I could test the idea, or actually greet her, Tynea spoke again. Please, do not move for the moment.

Our environment has changed recently. We are not where you went to sleep. The meaning of that took a moment to penetrate. I've been moved? The moment I directed my attention outwards again, something in my head clicked over, and I was smacked by another mountain of impressions. The antennae. Holy fuck were they intense. I could hear myself breathe in a new way, I could see the inside of the bubble with my eyes closed, I could almost touch the silk just beyond the rubber of the medical membrane.

I could taste the air and tell how many component gasses it was made of. The occasional stray particle dusting about settled on my antennae with the rustle of a leaf. It was all a little bit much. Somewhere in my brain I was scrambling to find that switch-thingy-thing that had turned the antennae on. Remain still and adjust, please. You'll be able to control the influx of information soon. So I scrunched my brows, clenched my fists, stopped searching for that switch, and just kept breathing.

And distracted myself with the new weight of my chest. Dang, I wanted to touch. But, not yet. There'd be time for that. Barely did I think of my breasts that my antennae moved that way and started questing, without my conscious control. Oh crap. Double crap. Sensitive and ticklish weren't words enough for that. Both ways. With some effort, I lifted one antenna after the other to just hang in front of my face instead. I wanted to open my eyes and study everything. The antennae. My breasts.

How I'd be seeing things from now on. And that's what stopped me. I wasn't even used to the antennae yet, how was I going to deal with seeing more as well? One thing after the other. Breathe in, breathe out. Get used to the air moving, get used to knowing how it moved. To tasting it, to sensing how the antennae combed through air like fingers through hair. The moment I thought of my eyes, my antennae dipped there and started fluffing at them.

They were like overeager puppies sniffing at anything that barely even entered the horizon of my mind with feathery touches. They were awesome. Intense, overwhelming even, but awesome. I already loved the depth of knowledge they gave me of my surroundings. I wanted to never turn them off. Controlling them would take some time to get used to. I'd have to learn to not automatically fondle everything in front of me, apparently. Or on me. Tickle-touch. Whoops. Hmm.

Maybe let my subconscious take care of it, at least for a bit? Like how one can distract themselves from pain and it seems to lessen? That might work here, too. So instead I thought about the organic aug and tried to figure out how that would work. It was part of my brain, wasn't it? Maybe if I imagined a screen in my vision turning itself on? There was a bit of a non-real click and suddenly I gained awareness of something I might call… a mental tab. That was easy. Good UX design?

The tab hung in the back of my mind like an idle thought. It didn't get in the way, but it was present. A text window with a message popped up behind my lids, as if I was still wearing augs. I was imagining it. I could sense myself imagining it, as if part of my brain was delirious in a good way. Weird as fuck, I thought as I started reading the message, but it works. Hello, Tinea. You've discovered the basics of using your organic augmentations. Welcome to the augs of the wider galaxy.

You may find your ability to interact with the Quanta incomparable. Should you wish to talk to me, you can do so by 'thinking', or more appropriately, hallucinating a message or call at me. Your aug will patch you through to me, or whichever contact you're targeting. You will not need to speak or subvocalize during a call. Thinking in your mental voice at me is enough, the Quanta will translate. Huh. No wonder it had been so damn expensive.

Working through the immense distraction of the antennae senses—and certain other jiggly objects that had me rather curious—I concentrated on wanting to call Tynea at the new mental thought-tab. I got a confirming chime instantly, and I heard Tynea's voice through my ears, not as the disembodied extra-mental voice I'd already gotten used to.

"There you are. How is it?" I was hallucinating her too, via the Quanta. Like the previous ones, it felt like I was imagining a call in my head, even though I knew I wasn't. I could tell that the Quanta was feeding my brain signals that made me think my ears were hearing things. I was doing it to myself, somehow, guided by an intrinsic…programming. An instinct. I sort of imagined myself talking in my head, talking at the call.

"Different. A little strange, but very easy and intuitive. I have a question though. Is this, like, mindreading?" Oh! My mental voice was still my old one. The Aden one. That was a little… dissatisfying, but also not surprising. I'd completely forgotten to test how I'd sound as a woman, hadn't I? This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Now I wanted to know, really wanted to know. The curiosity ate at me.

It was actually strong enough that the deluge of the antennae faded into the background for a few moments. But, it would have to wait until I knew my voice wouldn't trip an alarm.

"No. That would require a very different setup, a total replacement of your brain with something that can be accessed on the deepest level. Without that, I'd have to record your brain and build a real-time simulation of it. That technology is quite complex—well beyond humanity—and it takes hours to create a simulation that would be accurate enough to call it mindreading, even for me."

"Oh, so it'd be less magic mindreading, and more perfect prediction in real time?" The holy grail of social media and advertising algorithms everywhere.

"Exactly. Your augment doesn't read your brain either. The Quanta is your brain, an artificially added section of lesser authority—for lack of a better word—than your natural brain or seat of awareness. It may feel strange, but you'll get used to it quickly."

"Hmm…" It certainly was something to adjust to. At least I wasn't having an issue calculating a prime number with, uh…twelve million digits. And now I knew what it was like to be aware of twelve million digits simultaneously. I'd take it.

"Tinea, what do your antennae tell you about the world beyond the cocoon?" Oh, yeah. That. I stopped to listen closely, breathed through the nausea of too much information and oh god, why is this worse than twelve million digits, then sent,"I'm not sure. There's a lot of silk in the way, but it seems like we're in an otherwise empty room? The walls and ceiling are farther than those of my room. I don't think there's anybody around. One sturdy door, through which I have difficulty feeling the… vibrations?

Of the air."

"Are you able to tell if there are any devices pointed at you?"

"I can't say. Too much silk." And vertigo.

"Understood. Tinea, I woke you up a few hours early and the nanites aren't yet finished. Specifically, your bones are still a little brittle, by Vanguard standards. Don't hit anything with your full strength, pay attention to aches. Avoid long falls. You should still be able to move faster and hit harder than Aden could. You are healthy otherwise, your modifications are fine, and you've got ninety-five points from the daily allowance, plus your emergency reserves."

"Gotcha," I replied. The nausea-borne puke reflex slowly lessened, and I just continued breathing. Eyes closed, trying to keep my mind empty so my antennae wouldn't go exploring any…explosive flavors. The distraction of the conversation had helped with the antennae. The impressions weren't quite pounding at me anymore. I figured it would take a while longer until they'd be ignorable background noise. Eventually, I felt well enough to ask, " Am I good to move?"

"Slow and steady. Learn how your new body moves. The skills learned during the combat mobility lessons as well as the maneuvering course should let you catch on easily. Keep to light motions and don't shift your weight aggressively—I don't know what might trigger alarms." I blew out a slow breath, gathered my focus, and only then did I risk opening my eyes. That wasn't nearly as bad.

Random color splashes shot a mild spike through my brain, but nothing like that first moment of awareness of my antennae, and they cleared away in seconds. I could see rough outlines in the darkness of the bubble. Vision in low-light. Everything was gray, perhaps the dimmest shades of sepia, but basically just grays. Faint blues. Low light. I'd want to be slow and careful getting out of the bubble, make sure I wasn't gonna get blinded.

I heard a double click above me and twitched, but it was just the dispensers throwing out two capsules. They immediately broke apart into a powder, which floated down to dust all over me, thinning, dissipating even as it touched my skin. Had to be the last capsules, I guessed. The nanites probably weren't useless, I imagined they could get through my skin. The nutrients… maybe, too? They did that self-absorbing thing after all. My tail was as long as prior to the chrysalis, and just as soft.

It also felt more sturdy on the inside. It had a spine now, an elongation of my human spine. Reject humanity return to monke. Moving it was easy, like I'd been born with it. Heh. Hmm, with the changed body proportions, maybe my tail matches the length of my body now, top to bottom? Might actually be longer. Slowly, I began moving my limbs, marveling at the slenderness of everything. I did have muscles, but they were tight and lean, not the masculine ones I was used to. I looked and felt graceful.

Something to celebrate! As I sat up, my chest shifted its weight a little. Complete distraction. And complete self-destruction. It caught my attention, which meant the puppies went sniffing. Did I mention ticklish? After a few seconds of uneven breathing, which were mostly occupied with trying to divert my focus with highly relevant questions such as will boobs mess with my balance, I slowly got on my feet. And took a few experimental steps forward, sideways, and backwards. Easy enough.

Didn't even need to duck under the ceiling—I was smol! Turning wasn't a problem either. Those dream sessions had come with a slowly morphing body, from Aden to Tinea, and had done an excellent job of preparing me. I was one hundred and sixty centimeters tall, a lot smaller than my previous almost two meters, but my spinneret easily reached up to disengage the silk around the weapons package. I started to weave a simple sheath for myself, with some attempt at support in certain areas.

If one were generous, it might even be called a mildly shapely sack. With holes for arms, head, and tail. And some basic lining that would bind my chest. Being able to basically glue the silk directly to my body made the process quick, if not easy. And damn, did I have pretty boobs. Perky. Not all that big, but pretty. I was totally going to have to deal with this new vanity, wasn't I? I still wanted to learn how to make something nicer than this… shift, though.

As I kept working and distracting myself, it got easier and easier to process the sensations from the antennae. Controlling their subconscious movements stayed impossible, however. I could nudge them out of the way just fine (So fluffy!), but every touch was a frisson of electricity through my brain. Yet, it never took long for them to begin exploring again, and I had to be careful not to wrap them up along with the rest of me.

Once I was done, Tynea released the active defenses from the helmet and I held an even half ring in my hands. A horseshoe, sort of. I considered the magazines and how I'd have to replace it eventually.

"Tynea, could you keep the ammo count of this thing in my vision, please? Ah. Can you, actually? It's organic now." I very much can. Augmentations are augmentations, and I have the capabilities to work with organic ones, too.

"Oh, how does that work? I mean, aren't you basically just binary code? How would you interact with something fleshy? The same way I interact with your brain, Tinea. I nearly face-palmed. And no, I am nothing so rudimentary as binary code. Shudder. Oh. Oops. That might've been insulting.

"Sorry." No worries. The comparison is kind of hilarious in an absurdist way. Like saying a sun's just another firecracker. Well, shit. That'll teach me. I tied the defensive horseshoe with its replacement magazine to my waist above my tail. There it should cover most of me, and I'd be able to manually reload it without having to take it off.

"Tynea, how does the thing get the data it needs to defend me?" I have already linked it to your cerebral processing unit. Try focusing on that idea. I did, and yep, there it was. Blindingly evident, if I'd just stopped to look. I got the sense that there was so much this new implant could do, it would probably take me years to really clue in. The Armored Overall was simply too big for woman-me (Squeee!). It would just make me trip all over myself. Not to mention that my own skin was tougher, anyway.

The helmet also didn't fit. The weight of either wouldn't bother me, but they were annoyingly bulky, so I decided to leave them. Instead, I created pockets of silk in handy locations and stored my Foxteeth and what little ammunition I had left; the two magazines for the Foxteeth, and the HSRP magazine for the rifle. The Sentinel was still bloated with a small variety of ammunition. Sgt. Stabby had folded himself up to the side, neatly out of the way.

I figured I could find a use for him eventually, and he was pretty thin like this, so I just glued him to my back. When I grabbed the visor and was about to attach it to my face again, Tynea interrupted me and said, You no longer need it, your onboard aug outperforms it considerably even without dedicated geneware. Hmm. I'd just keep it stuffed away, then. It'd probably be worth a lot of credits back home.

"Geneware? What's that?" Apps for organic augmentations, essentially. Select sections of the Quanta can be edited with new DNA to fire along designed patterns. A more exotic version of programming that'll be of interest in the future, I'm sure. There are details and such to cover, but I suggest we talk about those when they're relevant.

"I should probably concern myself with my kidnapping first, huh?" That strikes me as a sage idea, yes. The sarcasm was thick as honey, and just as delicious. I decided to keep moving. The rifle was kind of too big for me now, with the topheavy Sentinel. I waffled about, considering if I should buy a sleeker primary, but I didn't have a lot of points. I was also more than strong enough to handle this unwieldy combo, annoying as it was. I'd make it work.

I wouldn't be the first one-sixty woman to shoot a hunting rifle, would I? They had to have figured it out somehow, hadn't they? And so, I made ready to rumble. Uh. Maybe not rumble. I was entirely too cute for that. Time to tussle. Yup.