Posthuman Wake-Up

Darkness envelops your vision, with the creaking of a floorboard and the muffled crashing of waves indicating that you indeed are not stuck in some kind of bottomless void. You feel something soft pressing against your face, which explains why you can't see anything despite your eyes being wide open. You instead try to smell your surroundings to get an idea of where you are. Briny, tobacco-laden... It brings back memories of your maritime trips from Nova Scotia to Cuba, having a chat with skippers while they try to dodge enemy patrol boats. [[Continue.->Introduction 2]]

"Hmm," a middle-aged voice to your left says before a pair of hands grasps a knot on the back of your head. "Reckon they've come to." The knot comes undone, causing the blindfold to fall off your face. All of a sudden, you're staring at fishing nets and lifebuoys dotting an off-white ceiling. Despite feeling like your body is tethered to whatever you're lying on, you try to get up and eye the soul standing right next to you. [[Continue.->Introduction 3]]

"Whoa! Slow yer roll, James K. Polk," says the lab coat-wearing man sitting in front of you. He doffs his mariner's cap and places it on his lap before saying, "Least give yerself some time to get yer sea legs on 'fore leavin' yer bed." [[Take stock of your surroundings.]] [["Where am I?"]] [["Who are you?"]] [["Heavens, feels like I got hit by an eighteen-wheeler."]] [["I don't take orders from strangers."]] [[Ignore the man and try to get out of bed.]]

You look left and right, ignoring the strain in your eyes on account of the flickering light bulbs above you. Streaks of algae cling to the windows covering the moldy walls around you, while tool chests and lobster traps lie scattered on the floorboard. You spot a steering wheel and bobblehead on the other side of the cabin you find yourself in, suggesting that you're aboard a fishing boat. "Ain't much," says the man, "but that's how I like Yoland. Boat y'on, that is." [["Who are you?"]] [["Heavens, feels like I got hit by an eighteen-wheeler."]] [["I know you mean well, but I can't take orders from strangers for... reasons."->"I don't take orders from strangers."]] [[Ignore the man and try to get out of bed.]]

The man guffaws at your comment. "Eighteen-wheeler?" he says. "In the Chesapeake? Yeah, head of yours must've gotten hit hard 'nough for you to say such things. But don't fret." He pats his chest. "After sizin' y'up from head to toe, Doc Murley here can happily state that it's more likely that y'instead rammed into an islet—which is //slightly// less painful than gettin' the eighteen-wheeler treatment." [["Nice to meet you, Doc. Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["Mind telling me how long I've been out?"]] [["Chesapeake? Someone truly wanted me dead."]] [["Doc? How come you're operating a fishing vessel?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Well, you're still 'mong the livin'," says the man. "That's one thin'. Other thin' is that y'used to be floatin' like jetsam close to Smith Island 'fore y'ended up on Yoland." He spreads his arms wide, looking left and right. "Boat y'on, that is." [["Who are you?"]] [["Heavens, feels like I got hit by an eighteen-wheeler."]] [["I know you mean well, but I can't take orders from strangers for... reasons."->"I don't take orders from strangers."]] [[Ignore the man and try to get out of bed.]]

You shake your head and rise from your bed, only for your legs to buckle under your weight. Instead of standing upright, you find yourself lying on the floor like a haddock that got reeled in and tossed onto the deck. But unlike haddocks, you feel too exhausted to writhe, twist, or spin on the floorboard. The man sighs and gets off his stool. "Don't count on goin' the distance after takin' a swim in the Chesapeake." He lifts you back up and places you on the bed's edge. "Least listen to Doc Murley here 'stead of muckin' 'bout on Yoland. Boat y'on, that is." [["Point taken. I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["Mind telling me how long I've been out?"]] [["Chesapeake? Someone truly wanted me dead."]] [["Doc? How come you're operating a fishing vessel?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Even if that stranger went through hell and choppy waters to get y'out of the Chesapeake?" The man crosses his arms. "If you don't want me to charge you for saving yer life, then y'oughta pay Doc Murley back by lendin' me yer ears." [["Point taken. I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["Mind telling me how long I've been out?"]] [["Chesapeake? Someone truly wanted me dead."]] [["Doc? How come you're operating a fishing vessel?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"I'm the one to whom you owe yer life," the man says, "and at least a grand or two. Least that's how much money I ought to get for all the trouble I went through to fish y'out of the Chesapeake." He clears his throat. "Doc Murley at yer humble service." [["Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["Mind telling me how long I've been out?"]] [["Chesapeake? Someone truly wanted me dead."]] [["Doc? How come you're operating a fishing vessel?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley strokes his chin. "Doroshenko, Doroshenko..." He clicks his tongue. "Nope, doesn't ring a bell. More specifically, I didn't hear a peep 'bout yer disappearance. Lotsa missin' folks 'round them parts, folks whose vanishings we //actually// hear 'bout and are bein' looked into by the authorities. Let's just say y'ought to be grateful that y'ain't a case gone cold." [["All thanks to you, Doc."]] [["Guess Lady Luck took pity on me."]] [["Enough small talk. Let's get this over with."->"No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"In my cabin or"—Doc Murley juts his bearded chin at the window to his left—"out there? Probably know the answer to the former." He crosses his arms. "As for the latter, I can't think of any biz you may've had in the Chesapeake other than fishin'. Any //clean// biz, I might add. D'you know if you rustled some bigwig's jimmies?" [["Not that I know of."]] [["Bigwigs would make sure that folks they kill stay dead."]] [["Are you suggesting I'm the shady type?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley lets out a laugh. "Why, got a dinner date or somethin'?" He screws his eyes shut and waves his hand at you. "Sorry. Little joke. Anyhow, I hope you didn't plan to do anythin' with yer loved ones them past two weeks." [["Consider your hopes dashed, then."]] [["Two weeks? Well, just my luck!"]] [["Couldn't you have woken me up sooner?"]] [["In that case, I've no time to waste in here."->"No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Oh, that." Doc Murley looks over his shoulder and waves his arm at the cabin. "Yoland belongs to my missus, as a matter of fact." He looks back at you. "She's out of town, and I haven't been gettin' many patients lately. So I figured I'd... borrow Her Ladyship's boat, get a change of scenery." He holds his forefinger to his mouth and says with a wink, "Our lil' secret." [["Anyway, I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley sighs as he produces a pipe out of his pocket and lights it with a match. "Listen, I know you're jonesin' for details 'bout why you ended up in the Chesapeake. Still, I //am// legally required to see y'out in sound shape. Law of the land and all that. Lemme make sure that all yer limbs, innards, and mental faculties are hunky-dory." He straightens himself up before sliding his stool closer to you and leaning forward on his seat. Doc Murley takes a few puffs of his pipe and says, "Now, we first gotta 'dress the elephant in the room. You're Posthuman, aren't you?" [["That I am."]] [["My wounds were that deep, weren't they?"]] [["I hope you'll keep this between the two of us."]] [["You better not use this kind of info against me."]]

"If they did, they'd have you thrown into the drink a month ago. Huge hurricane back then." Doc Murley points his forefinger at you. "But you look to have gone for a swim only recently, so I guess they merely wanted to send you a message." He looks out the algae-ridden window to his right. "Then 'gain, what's the point of sendin' a message if its recipient runs the risk of cashin' in their chips from drownin'?" [["Anyway, I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley nods, producing a pipe out of his pocket and lighting it with a match. "'preciate the kind words, but s'merely what I do for a livin'. Speakin' of which, lemme give you one more look-see. I know you wanna be on yer way, but I wanna make sure yer limbs, innards, and mental faculties are healthy 'nough for you to go the extra mile." He straightens himself up before sliding his stool closer to you and leaning forward on his seat. Doc Murley takes a few puffs of his pipe and says, "Now, we first gotta 'dress the elephant in the room. You're Posthuman, aren't you?" [["That I am."]] [["My wounds were that deep, weren't they?"]] [["I hope you'll keep this between the two of us."]] [["You better not use this kind of info against me."]]

"That she most likely did," Doc Murley says. "S'almost as if you still had lotsa things to do on this Earth and therefore an appointment with Death had to be postponed. In the meantime, you'll have to deal with me." He laughs at his own morbid joke. [["Anyway, thanks for being there for me."->"All thanks to you, Doc."]] [["Enough small talk. Let's get this over with."->"No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Hmm," says Doc Murley. "Probably you ticked them off by accident or indirectly." He scratches his chin. "In which case, you //must// have been doin' somethin' conspicuous 'round here. Know what you've been up to 'fore all this?" [["I was supposed to meet someone in St. Michaels."]] [["I didn't know I was up to no good, that's for sure."]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Not in the slightest," Doc Murley says. "'sides, makin' accusations wouldn't constitute a sound bedside manner." He sighs. "Look, you strike me as the sort to be on the up and up. If you ticked a lowlife off, 'twas likely by accident or indirectly." Doc Murley scratches his chin. "In which case, you //must// have been doin' somethin' conspicuous 'round here. Know what you've been up to 'fore all this?" [["I was supposed to meet someone in St. Michaels."]] [["I didn't know I was up to no good, that's for sure."]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Well," Doc Murley says, "dead and hard to find. Chesapeake on stormy days and nights is a good way to hit two birds with one stone." [["I know that, but I've no clue who I've... inconvenienced."->"Not that I know of."]] [["You make it sound like I'm the dubious sort."->"Are you suggesting I'm the shady type?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley whistles. "St. Michaels?" He points to his left. "That's waaaay up north, friend. Sure you didn't get lost on yer way there? While you were conscious, of course!" He clicks his tongue and says, "Think what happened is that someone has had good reason to knock y'out and take you as far away from yer meetin' spot as feasible so that the one you were to meet with wouldn't easily find you. Don't see any other way you'd end up in the Chesapeake." [["Anyway, thanks for being there for me."->"All thanks to you, Doc."]] [["Enough small talk. Let's get this over with."->"No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Ha! Say that 'gain," says Doc Murley. "Though judgin' from that comment of yers, I wager y'either reluctant to level with me or you truly forgot 'bout why you'd come to this part of the country of all places." He sighs. "In any case, I shan't pry any further." [["Anyway, thanks for being there for me."->"All thanks to you, Doc."]] [["Enough small talk. Let's get this over with."->"No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley shakes his head. "Surface-level at worst. But that's the thin': Yer wounds would've been a heck of a lot worse were you not physically augmented in some capacity. Only one kind of soul who can go out for a swim in choppy waters and come out with few to no scratches on their person." He looks up and down at you. "Out of sheer curiosity, just how many implants do you have in that body of yers?" [["Little to none." (Unbound)]] [["Quite a few." (Medium)]] [["Enough to leave little to the imagination." (Embracer)]] [["Why do you ask?"]]

"That's what doctor-patient confidentiality's for," Doc Murley says. "I may not look like y'average MD and this may not be y'average clinic, but that hardly means all medical standards are flexible. Just don't mention my name should you get in trouble with the authorities. Otherwise, I //would// be legally required to cooperate with them." He looks up and down at you. "Out of sheer curiosity, just how many implants do you have in that body of yers? I'll admit that I didn't dig deeply into it by dint of yer wounds being surface-level at worst." [["Little to none." (Unbound)]] [["Quite a few." (Medium)]] [["Enough to leave little to the imagination." (Embracer)]] [["Why do you ask?"]]

Doc Murley holds his hands up. "Wouldn't dream of it." He drops them onto both of his thighs. "Were I the bigoted kind, I would've handed you over to... unsavory folks shortly after findin' you. But hatred don't pay the bills, nor does it align with the Hippocratic Oath." He looks up and down at you. "Out of sheer curiosity, just how many implants do you have in that body of yers? I'll admit that I didn't dig deeply into it by dint of yer wounds bein' surface-level at worst." [["Little to none." (Unbound)]] [["Quite a few." (Medium)]] [["Enough to leave little to the imagination." (Embracer)]] [["Why do you ask?"]]

Doc Murley raises his eyebrows. "Huh! Forthright 'bout it. Guess y'ain't scared of those who, uh, //disapprove// of yer ilk's views. Not that I don't understand the benefits of cosmopolitanism and transhumanism." He looks up and down at you. "Out of sheer curiosity, just how many implants do you have in that body of yers? I'll admit that I didn't dig deeply into it by dint of yer wounds being surface-level at worst." [["Little to none." (Unbound)]] [["Quite a few." (Medium)]] [["Enough to leave little to the imagination." (Embracer)]] [["Why do you ask?"]]

"Yeah, s'what I thought." Doc Murley cocks his head to the side. "Pale skin, white hair, pupilless eyes..." He straightens his head. "Just how much of the Miasma did they expose you to, anyhow?" [["Not enough to make implants a more comfortable option."]] [["Plenty, but it was tightly regulated to prevent damage to the flesh."]] [["It felt like I was being seared alive."]] [["Why? Want to try it out yourself?"]]

"Really?" Doc Murley squints at you. "Yet you look so norma— Uh, I mean, you look like you still have the bits you were born with. Either that or my eyesight's startin' to fail me, which would hamper my ability to properly conduct physicals on folks." [[Open the circuitry panel on your forearm.]] [["My implants are painted to look like organic body parts."]] [[Pluck your cybernetic eye out of its socket.]] [["May want to have your eyes looked at. Have you considered implants?"]]

Doc Murley takes a puff of his pipe with a raised eyebrow. "No kiddin'! S'like you grew weary of feelin' hungry, sleepy, sick, and thirsty all the time. Can't see many organic bits on yer person, anyhow. By the way"—Doc Murley clears his throat—"how do you, uh, answer the call of nature?" [[Explain to him the Embracers' process of organic waste disposal.]] [["Like everyone: By going to the restroom."]] [["You'd have to see it to believe it."]] [["None of your business. Even regular humans will tell you that."]]

"M'askin' 'cause I need to have you go through a check-up 'fore I let you loose," says Doc Murley. "Knowin' what yer made of means I'll better tailor my tests to yer constitution. None of 'em are invasive, I should add." [["Won't find much, if anything, in me." (Unbound)->"Little to none." (Unbound)]] [["I may not look like it, but I do have some implants." (Medium)->"Quite a few." (Medium)]] [["I'm practically made of implants." (Embracer)->"Enough to leave little to the imagination." (Embracer)]]

"Yeah, heard a thing or two 'bout Posties havin' different views on implants," Doc Murley says. "Somethin' 'bout needin' to be challenged by the flesh or freed from it to grow or somethin'. Surprised you can take a beatin' from the Chesapeake 'thout bein' cybernetically augmented. Guess that Miasma's veilin' you the same way it covers the sky." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Ought to have been!" Doc Murley says. "Otherwise, you'd have looked like my daughter's steamed blue crabs. Long story short, she needs to improve her cookin' chops. Badly." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Flash-frozen, more like." Doc Murley pinches his cheek. "Judgin' by looks, at least. And you're suggestin' that it made you as sturdy as someone wearing implants, right? Can't see any other way the Chesapeake's waves didn't grind you to a pulp." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

Doc Murley cringes. "N'offense, but I'm fine as is. 'sides, my patients wouldn't take kindly to bein' treated by someone who looks like they've never seen the sun in their life. Not that bein' pallid in yer circumstances is a curse, obviously." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Smart!" Doc Murley says. "Keeps not just suspicious eyes at bay, but also illnesses. On account of yer havin' fewer organic bits prone to contractin' diseases. Also explains why you were a pain to carry 'spite not lookin' the part." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

Doc Murley gives you a slack-jawed look. "So //that's// why you were such a pain to carry 'spite not lookin' the part! Hell, I'm surprised you weren't fried to a crisp while lost in the Chesapeake. Implants of yers must come with lotsa protective layers." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Ha! Least I can hear yer jokes well 'nough." Doc Murley rubs both of his eyes. "Nah, think the pair I have will last me another couple or so decades. Provided I keep loadin' up on beta-carotene. Regardin' my question, I'll just assume that the parts I didn't have to mend are cybernetic in nature." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Gah!" Doc Murley recoils in disgust, nearly causing him to fall off his stool and choke on his pipe's smoke. You spin your eyeball on the tip of your forefinger like you're about to shoot hoops. As soon as you place it back into its socket, Doc Murley straightens himself and adjusts his mariner's hat. "Well, never let it be said that y'ain't full of surprises." He sighs and rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Uh," Doc Murley says, "that ain't what I mean— Oh, I get it. Rather not disclose such things, amirite? Fair 'nough. 'sides, that question wasn't part of yer check-up or anythin'. Just mere curiosity." He rises from his stool. "Speakin' of check-up, let's get you looked at 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Stop!" Doc Murley says before you can get to the part where you need to have your innards scrubbed clean with a toothbrush and dollops of baking soda. "I, uh, I think I can figure out the rest 'thout you tellin' me. At least I now know that you can still digest nutrients in //some// capacity." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

Doc Murley cringes at the thought of witnessing someone's idea of pinching a loaf or taking a leak. "Dread to think how many of y'organs got replaced with doodads. Then 'gain, I ain't a surgeon—let alone a Posthuman one—so I'll assume that yer still able to perform certain... tasks when the need arises." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you checked up 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

Doc Murley flashes his palms at you. "Alright, alright! To be fair, I shouldn't be so... invasive with my inquiries when dealin' with someone who just came to. Still, I hope y'ain't got nothin' 'gainst a regular check-up. Standard procedure. And surface-level." He rises from his stool. "Right, let's get you looked at 'fore you go. Lemme fetch my tools." //END.// [[Restart convo->Introduction]]

"Y'actually have it easy," Doc Murley says. "Would've taken longer for a minority of folks who went through what y'endured to come to. As for the majority? Let's just say that their luck ran out the same way I leg it out of my abode when my cousins pay me a visit." [["Anyway, I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

Doc Murley lifts his mariner's cap to his chest and nods. "You've my commiserations, then. I know what it's like to let yer loved ones down. Speakin' from firsthand experience. Though in my defense, patients won't look after or treat themselves." [["Anyway, I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]

"Would have. Had I found you earlier, that is." Doc Murley scratches his nose. "Not like the Chesapeake's a barrel and you a fish. Gettin' 'round that body of water's hard 'nough. Survivin' on it, though? Doggone angels were watchin' over you 'fore I did!" [["Anyway, I'm Tyler Doroshenko."->"Tyler Doroshenko."]] [["How did I end up here?"]] [["No offense, but I'd rather take my leave."]]