" . . . The tracking device implanted in the limbic system region of your brain is interacting improperly with your hormone production and is causing you to have rapid emotional swings with great amplitude. Your hippocampus cannot compensate swiftly enough for the chemical differentials. . . ."
The third time it pierced the manic haze, "The tracking device IMPLANTED in the limbic system region of MY brain is interacting improperly with MY hormone production and is causing ME to have rapid emotional swings with great amplitude. MY hippocampus cannot compensate swiftly enough for the chemical differentials!" I paused long enough to wipe the tears from my face and start crying again. Now however, the manic state swung violently to rage as it had when I had killed the two aliens.
"I HAVE AN ALIEN IMPLANT IN MY BRAIN! MY GOD I'M NOT CRAZY!! I HAVE AN ALIEN IMPLANT IN MY BRAIN! YOU BASTARDS! GET IT THE FUCK OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW! GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!" I beat the floor with my fists and pitched a tantrum to beat all tantrums. I knew what needed to be done and that flying off in a tantrum wouldn't help, but I couldn't stop myself.
"Can it be taken out now!?" I asked and the SuperAgent didn't respond.
"Can it be taken out now, I asked!?" still no response.
"CAN IT BE TAKEN OUT NOW?!" Then I felt a slap across my face and the naked Russian girl shook me and screamed at me.
This was enough to snap me closer to sanity and I realized I was speaking out loud and not thinking to the computer.
Can my implant be removed now without harming me?
Yes.
Do it now!
I waited for some sign, a pain in my head, a bloody nose, anything like I had seen in bad UFO science fiction movies, but nothing happened. I was beginning to get disappointed.
I said remove the implant now.
It was removed when you asked the first time. Is there a problem?
You mean, it's gone now?
Yes.
I thrust the naked girl away from me and stood up in front of her, all six-one, two hundred and forty pounds of my hairy self. I reached for my clothes. Give me the girl's clothes, cleaned. They appeared in the same fashion that mine had. Her clothes, if you want to call them that, were merely an oversized cotton tank top. My guess was that the Grays had grabbed her out of bed. I pulled my underwear up and nodded to the girl and at her clothes. She grabbed the top and frantically pulled it over her and then she squatted and began hugging herself and crying.
I realized then that she must have one of those damned tracking device things in her as well.
Is there an implant in the girl?
Yes.
Is it affecting her emotions?
All implants do. Yes.
REMOVE IT NOW!
Okay.
I was beginning to notice that the mood swinging had stopped. My rage and depression were slowly subsiding; if the implant is gone why do I still feel . . . bad?
It will take a few moments for your body to compensate for the extreme chemical differentials. You will soon return to normal.
I slipped my shirt on. How long has that implant been in my brain?
Three years seven months two weeks four days thirteen hours and twenty-seven seconds from insertion to removal.
I thought about that for a second. That was just after The Rain! I had never been able to recover from the emotional losses I suffered from The Rain because of that damned alien implant!
The girl jabbered at me again. I held up my hands and then put my finger to my lip as if to shoosh her. Then I pointed to myself and said, "I'm Steven. Steven."
"Steevyen?" she repeated.
"Yeah, Steven." I smiled at her and don't think her nakedness now that it had been slightly clothed didn't still flash in my mind. Is the urge to procreation a sign of regaining sanity? I thought to myself that I had not really had a thought like that in years. . . . Three years seven months two weeks four days thirteen hours and twenty-seven seconds . . .
"Tatiana," she smiled and pointed to herself.
"Tatiana," I repeated and nodded. Then I thought to myself, Damn, I wish I could speak Russian.
Okay.
And then all at once I understood every word the girl jabbered, so I spoke to her and explained as much as I understood. This took a few seconds and then I thought, If you can make me speak Russian could you make her speak English?
Yes.
Do it.
Okay.
"Listen to me Tatiana. Can you understand what I am saying to you?" I said slowly to her.
"Of course I can, what is wrong with . . . Holy shit, I am speaking perfect English."
"Ha ha, I would say so, expletives and all. This is amazing, isn't it?" I asked her and chuckled a bit more. I chuckled . . . I chuckled!
"But how?" Tatiana asked.
"I don't know. Hold on a second." I told her and then thought to the SuperAgent, How did you make us speak the different languages so quickly?
I redesigned your neural pathways and imprinted the memories of the language.
Yes, but how did you do that? I asked.
Please refine your question.
How did you physically alter our brains so quickly? I was getting a little annoyed.
The nanomachines were instructed to reconstruct portions of your brains in order to display the proper memories of the languages.
What nanomachines? I looked around the room as if I might see them.
The swarm of nanomachines in this room.
I understood it all now. This room must have been the experimentation or operating room and these Gray aliens used nanomachines in here to conduct these operations. I explained it to Tatiana.
"All of this is neat, Steven, but won't they be coming for us soon? Shouldn't we try to escape?" She pulled her flimsy oversized shirt tighter around her and reacted as though she were still cold. Of course she was, she was basically naked and the perky attributes of her breasts suggested she was either very excited or freezing to death. She was also covered in chill bumps from head to toe.
Tatiana was absolutely right; they would be coming for us.
"I don't know, I'll check," I told her.
Are the other aliens aware of our coup yet? I asked the SuperAgent.
Yes. He replied.
Why haven't they come for us?
They are trying.
Why haven't they succeeded?
I will not talk to them and only I can open the door to this room, for now.
How long until they get in here?
Five minutes and seven seconds.
How many of them?
Eleven.
"Listen Tatiana, there are eleven more of these alien things outside the room trying to get to us. Since I am controlling the computer they can't get in. But the computer says they will get in in less than five minutes from now."
"Can't the computer help us, Steven?"
"It doesn't work that way. The damned thing will only do what you tell it to. It doesn't offer advice."
"Then tell it to stop the aliens, please." Tatiana looked at me and then around the room watching for an invasion.
"I didn't think of that. Hold on."
Is there a way that you could kill the aliens without harming us?