Extensis Vitae - By Gregory Mattix Page 0,3

like Swanson was doing almost all of the talking.

Reznik looked around the room again. It looked like a makeshift medical facility that had been designed for various purposes. The room was clean, yet he got the impression that it had seen a lot of use over the years. ‘Extensis Vitae’, he thought, wondering what that meant. What kind of place is this? “Not a hospital,” she said. His eyes wandered over to the computer terminal she had been sitting at.

Reaching down, he unfastened the restraints around his ankles. He wondered if Swanson realized there was nothing preventing him from freeing himself.

Reznik hopped down off the table. The floor tiles were cold beneath his bare feet. A pinch on his arm reminded him of the IV. He pulled the needle out and set the tubes on the table. He also removed a couple sensors that were stuck to his chest. The machine began to chirp in alarm, but he hit the power button and silenced it.

He walked over to the computer terminal. It was a surprisingly ancient machine amidst the other sleek, modern equipment. Blurry green text stood out in stark contrast to the black background. Shit, nobody uses these old tube monitors anymore, he thought. A cup of coffee sat next to the monitor.

Computer code was on the screen. Reznik wasn’t much of a computer tech, and the code was unfamiliar to him. It looked like something off an old DOS computer from when he was a kid. The last command on the screen was for something called ‘Augmentation BIOS, Firmware version 1.5.’ Before he could read more, he heard footsteps outside the door.

“I see you’ve freed yourself,” Myrna remarked with a wary look at Reznik.

“Yeah, it wasn’t very difficult,” he said. “Perhaps you can tell me where I am. What is this place?” He took a couple steps toward her. “And why is Mr. Swanson worried about my mental state after some ‘procedure?’”

He could see her tense up as he approached. “I know you have a lot of questions, Mr. Reznik. All will be explained at the appropriate time. Administrator Swanson has instructed me that only he will be filling you in on what he feels you need to know.” From the tone of her voice, she apparently didn’t agree with Swanson’s directions.

He took another step toward her, and she took a step back. “Don’t worry, I won’t harm you.” He looked around again. “Other than having no idea what the hell is going on and not being able to remember what happened to me, I’m not mentally unbalanced.”

“That’s good, because Swanson sent for security just in case.”

As if on cue, Reznik heard the heavy tread of boots outside the door. Two brawny men entered the room and stood blocking the door. They wore some type of riot gear: a light body armor vest and a helmet with a clear visor that covered the face. Both men carried what looked like riot batons in their hands. They, too, wore the same style of utility uniform underneath their vests as the others.

Reznik gave them an appraising stare for a moment. They tried to appear imposing, but Reznik could see the nervousness in their eyes. These two aren’t used to handling much more than the occasional minor domestic dispute or drunken brawl, he guessed. He was an unknown factor to them.

“Myrna, is everything okay in here?” the larger guard asked.

“Yes, you can wait outside the door. I’ll be fine,” she replied.

“Sure?” he asked again with a glance between Myrna and Reznik.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said with an annoyed glance. Reznik saw something pass between them for an instant, and then the two guards retreated to take positions outside the door.

She cleared her throat nervously as she noticed Reznik watching the exchange intently. “Are you sure you are feeling well enough to be up and about?” She glanced at the IV lying on the table. “I can put you under for a while longer, if you like.”

“No. I have a feeling I’ve been under much too long already,” he replied. In actuality, he felt pretty good. The dizziness and weakness had passed surprisingly fast.

“You don’t even know,” she said, not unkindly.

“You aren’t really a doctor, are you?”

She sighed. “No, but I’m the closest thing we have to one right now, sad to say. I’m a scientist. My father is a physician, but he’s…not available right now.” Reznik could tell there was something wrong from the way she said the last part, but