Chapter 6 Nil #2
I’d be inspired if it wasn’t for the broccoli stuck between his teeth. I want to reach for it. With my tongue, I think. So I don’t.
“Let’s finish this dry ass cereal.” He grins, picking out the piece of green with his own tongue. I don’t think about how wet and warm it must feel. “Em’s handing out miracle drugs, and I want front-row seats.”
***
By the time we reach the MedBay, Em doesn’t even need to look up to check that it’s us. Anyone could hear Stan coming.
“Nil, Stan, good morning.”
She’s tapping away at her tablet. Stan says a dirty joke—something about how he’d “tap that”—for a greeting while we sit side by side. When she finally lifts her head, her eyes pass over Stan first, then go to me.
I don’t know what to say or do when she looks like she’s checking how I’m still alive. But Stan does all the talking for us.
“Y’know, doc, our morning could be even better if you and Nil make a Stan sandwich,” he says.
I huff a short laugh, but it looks like Em didn’t catch the joke.
She continues as if she didn’t hear it. “Today, we’ll be trying the introduction of the new formula of Kys.”
Em lifts a pretty big black capsule. When I look at it, it doesn’t remind me of the little white pills Clo forced down my throat in exchange for my sister’s safety.
But when I see Stan through my peripherals, his leg is bouncing again.
“This is the stabilized compound,” Em says. “Kys without the destructive elements. In theory, it enhances physical recovery, cognitive clarity, but may also cause emotional interference.”
She hands us one each.
“Once more, I should emphasize,” she adds, clearing her throat and straightening her posture, “that these are all in theory.”
Stan’s foot taps. I place my hand on his thigh. His gaze goes to mine.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Em’s attention hit straight to where my hand rests, then up to my face. “Is something the matter?” Em asks.
“Nope,” Stan says fast. “Well…”
“What is it?” Em probes.
Stan pinches the pill and places it near his lips. “Pretty big for a pill, don’t ya think, doc?”
Em nods. “It is a slightly, relatively larger size.”
“It’s very…phallic.” Stan stifles a laugh. I stifle a groan.
Em tilts her head, creasing her brows. “It’s the shape of a common capsule.”
“Yeah, sure, a capsule with big dick energy.”
“I can reassure you that a capsule could not contain…” Em counters, pausing with a confused frown. “That sort of energy.”
“Ocean Eyes.” Stan nudges me. “Back me up here. Tell her it’s suggestive.”
I deny that fast with a head shake.
Stan sighs loudly. “You two are no fun right now.”
“I must inform you both…” Em keeps going. “Compound Eleven dissolves cleanly, supports neural balance, and contains no dependency triggers, but if there are any side effects, please inform me right away.”
Stan raises his hand. “Super important question. If I swallow this and suddenly find you irresistibly hot, is that a side effect you can manage for me, or…?”
“That is unrelated to the support I can provide for you.”
“You sayin’ I already find you hot, doc?”
“I said nothing of the sort.”
He beams. “You’d be right, though.”
Em hugs her tablet and starts talking about the process of how this formula’s made. It reminds me so much of how my father would talk about his own formulas back in the day.
But her words go over my head. To my side, I stare at how Stan’s nodding, listening eagerly. Probably ready to make a quip.
“This week is for observations,” Em keeps going. “Structural behavior under controlled environments, along with neurological scans.”
“So we get the science lecture before the fun.” Stan huffs. “Em, you’re edging us.”
“No.”
“Feels like edging.”
“It is not.”
Stan looks at me again. “Em edges.”
I let out a long sigh that might sound like I’m fighting a laugh. He smiles even wider.
Em taps her tablet. “If you don’t have any relevant questions, we will begin with some readings before you both take your pill.”
Stan shoots his hand into the air again. “I have several irrelevant questions.”
“I won’t be answering them.”
He leans back, smirking. “Will you answer to Mommy?”
Em lifts her eyes at Stan’s question. “No.”
Stan clutches his chest. “Heartbreaking. A denial delivered with surgical coldness. You wound me, Em.”
“Stan,” she says, “place the capsule back in its tray.”
He complies but mutters, “Fine. Returning the jumbo vitamin D to its docking station.”
I shake my head, biting my lip to shut down any laugh out of me.
Em sets her tablet down. “If you’re finished, we’ll proceed with pre-administration readings.”
“Strap on and give it to me, doc.” Stan grins. “Take me places.”
“There are no straps involved,” Em says.
“An honest-to-god tragedy. A missed opportunity to deepen our connection, doc.”
Em places and adjusts a headgear on him. She starts attaching sensors too.
Stan whispers to me out of the corner of his mouth. “If this thing reads horny thoughts, I’m fucked.”
“It doesn’t read minds,” Em says. “Hold still, Stan.”
The scanner whirrs for a while. Numbers run up her tablet’s screen.
Em studies it while Stan smirks at me. “If I flatline, Ocean Eyes, make my gravestone sexy. Here lies Stan Song-Smith. Ten inches long.”
I shake my head again, completely in disbelief, letting out a sigh.
“What?” Stan smirks. “You want proof?”
Em cuts in. “The scan’s complete.” She removes the sensors with careful fingers. “All brain activity proves to be stable.”
“Perfect brain.” Stan shrugs. “Wouldn’t have bet on that, but hey.”
“To clarify,” Em says, “it’s a standard brain.”
Stan pouts. “Em, please. My ego’s fragile.”
“What I’m trying to say is, there’s no such thing as a perfect brain, Stan.”
“What about a perfect face?” Stan asks, batting his lashes at Em, who takes a good look at him.
“You have a symmetrical face,” she points out.
Stan frowns, gray eyes wide. “That’s it?”
Em doesn’t offer more than that, focusing instead on putting the headgear on me.
“Symmetrical?” Stan says. “Em, that’s the beige-est of compliments.”
“It’s an anatomical observation,” she replies.
“Ugh, I’m oatmeal to you.” Stan groans. “You might as well say the most interesting thing about me is how I contain trace amounts of water.”
“You do contain water,” Em says.
Stan lifts his hands in surrender. “Doc, you’re killing me here.”
I breathe out through my nose, trying not to smile. Stan sees it anyway and looks proud about it.
“Oh, Nil likes it,” Stan says. “Look at him. He’s glowing with joy. My charm works on everyone eventually.”
“Hold still, Nil,” Em says, checking the sensor against my temple.
Stan scoots closer in his chair, voice dropping into a dramatic whisper. “Nil, if this thing picks up the secret naughty thoughts you have of me, I won’t get offended.”
“As I’ve said, it doesn’t detect thoughts,” Em says.
Stan snaps his fingers. “Dang it! There goes my plan to know if Nil thinks I’m hot or not.”
Rolling my eyes, I don’t say anything back.
“Please remain still, Nil,” Em says.
Stan leans back, sighing. “Em, he’s being scanned, not taking a mugshot. Let the man smile at me.”
“I’m not smiling,” I say.
“You are,” he says, smirk coming back to gloat. “It’s microscopic, but it’s happening.”
The scanner starts whirring like it did on Stan. It kinda freaks me out, so I focus on breathing. Stan focuses on disrupting that.
“Imagine,” he continues, “if the machine suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree because Nil here saw my nipples earlier. What would you do, Em? What’s your protocol for overwhelming sexual magnetism?”
“I didn’t stare there,” I snap back fast.
“There is no protocol,” Em adds right after me.
“There should be,” Stan says. “I’m a danger to myself and others.”
“Stan,” Em whispers, “please stop speaking.”
“I physically can’t.”
My head’s facing forward, so I can’t see it, but I can tell he’s grinning when he says the next thing out of his ridiculous mouth.
“Unless you call me a good boy.”
Everything in me freezes, but I see how Em’s brows furrow. Her thumb taps against the corner of her tablet.
“There’s an inconsistency in the initial scan,” she says. “I need to restart it.”
Her tone’s even. Anyone else would think nothing of it. But I know what caused the “inconsistency.” Stan saying the words “good boy.”
Fucking hell. My throat gets tight. I pull back my shoulders and try to breathe.
None of that helps when I turn my head and see Stan staring right at me.
Goosebumps run down my arms. I can feel my heart hammer. Feels loud.
“Em,” I say, whipping my head to face her. She’s still tapping at her tablet. “Can we do this another time?”
Stan goes quiet. That never happens. But I can’t look at him right now.
Em looks up from her tablet. “Are you alright?”
“I just…need the washroom.” It’s only half a lie. I need distance fast. “I’ll be back later.”
“Let me remove the sensors.” Em takes them off and then studies my face during, her expression as flat as her tone. “Did a specific interference come to mind? A memory, perhaps?”
Words nearly spill out. I swallow them back down. “Nothing useful.”
She watches me for a hard heartbeat too long, then nods. “You’re excused.”
I stand too quickly and force myself not to look at Stan as I leave. The door hisses open and closes behind me, sealing me off from the sensors, from the pill, from Stan’s taunting voice stuck in my head.
Even while I walk away, I can hear them behind the door.
Stan’s being loud again. “Tell me again that this pill isn’t shaped like a dick on purpose, doc.”
“It’s a standard capsule,” Em replies.
“Doc… It’s hung. I’d know.”
***
I’m almost at sprinting speed, trying to get my pulse to listen, but it’s useless.
My body isn’t listening. My thoughts aren’t stopping. Everything feels hot and wrong.
My legs are moving without checking in with me first. By the time I notice what I’m doing, I’m at Quarters Four. The room I share with Stan. It smells like him in here. So warm, so sweet, like marshmallows roasting over fire.
Fuck.