The Penny Drops (Sea the Depths Book 1) Karmon Kuhn (life changing books TXT) 📖

modification process, there was little sensation in my wrought body parts and a haze pervading my mind. While the pain was still there, I separated from it. In the tsez̈ø, I would’ve had assistance in acclimating and been given pain management, but such treatment is not available during one’s land trials, the all-important eɦùsh juṣiṣos̈

Dissociated and weak, I tried to focus my eyes on the satchel. My vision lagged, but it finally helped me see my next step. I crawled again, this time with the awkward movements of an infant creature, unaware of my own body parts. Laying on my back, I fought to pull the provided clothing on properly. The bottoms had too many holes, or so I thought, until I fit the two long, wobbly legs that had replaced my tail into them.

Then, the numbing shock dissipated enough to cause a shiver of recognition and panic through my stunted human spine. I felt wet for the first time in my life. I’d heard it described, but I never understood how the feeling of water against my body could be unpleasant beyond the pressure of an intense wave or current. But once my birth skin had sloughed off to uncover this smooth, delicate, stippled organ, I was weighed down and saturated, like unprotected human artifacts in the tsez̈ø.

The pain, the cold, the wet. It was almost enough for me to lie there and give up just as soon as my trial had begun, but somehow, I urged myself to pull the satchel over to me and crawl awkwardly away from the rocks. The wind bit me as I left the meager protection of my shelter.

Just outside, I made it a short distance before my body forced me to rest. I saw humans, children, down the beach from where I was lying, and I was reminded of an early memory of mine when I observed a family. A small child with a round plaything and a larger one passing it along the ground. I’ve always been fond of that small human, and I wonder if he grew up to be the kind of tyrant that so many of them turned out to be.

I rested my eyes at the thought and then drifted into a dream of playing with a round thing of my own on the beach, as if I were a human child myself.

***

At some point in my dreamy recollection, one of the humans spoke to me. The smaller and darker of the two let out a breath and came over to me with purpose. Looking at the mess of liquid and red smears on the floor, she picked up the bag and its holder. She then looked at me and asked for my name.

“Natalie.” I stated clearly.

The two of them continued to look at me, but I was sure I had answered correctly. After years of English study, I was and am quite proficient. However, they continued to stare.

“Natalie . . . ?” the paler one, titled Penny, offered.

I stared, uncertain then.

“What’s your last name, sweetness?” asked the other.

“Natalie . . .” panicked, my chest began to heave. I couldn’t remember the surname I’d been given!

The silence as I grasped for any human name in my mind grew into a dark cloud in the room. The two shared a glance, and I barely heard the other say to Penny, “There wasn’t any sign of traumatic brain injury, but we might be dealing with amnesia here.”

“Alvi!” I blurted and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.

“Well, Miss Alvi, do you know why you’re here?” Not-Penny asked.

“No.”

“Some kids found you on the beach, passed out, and hypothermic,” she said, coming close to me with a container of fluid and some white puffs.

“What are those?!” I asked her, scooting away and feeling the aches again.

“Sweetheart,” she said, “they’re just antiseptics and cotton balls to get your arm cleaned up. I can’t let you keep on bleedin’.”

I inspected the hole that the metal thing had left in my arm, and I could feel my flesh stinging. I held my arm close to my chest and scooted again until I almost fell off the platform I was on. Penny walked a step closer, as if to catch me. I observed them with suspicion but also curiosity. They didn’t appear as uncivilized as I’d expected. And these two had a certain nurturing air.

“It won’t hurt after I clean it and cover it up, but it might get infected, if you don’t let me fix you up.”

“Infected?” I asked, unfamiliar with the word.

“Yes,” she answered and then continued, “If the wound is not cleaned, germs can get into the bloodstream and make you sick.”

I was in a place for the ill or injured, then. A hospital, I believed they were called. Or perhaps, a clinic. To appease them and stave off some of their doubts or wariness, I offered my arm. After all, I reasoned, if they’d wanted to injure me purposefully, they would have already.

“Are you feeling warmer?” Penny asked.

“Yes,” I answered, and my face scrunched at the question.

“Your temperature was dangerously low when you arrived,” Not-Penny offered by way of explanation and then asked, “Did you sleep outside last night?”

“No,” I answered.

“If you weren’t outside all night, how did you get so cold, sweet pea? It wasn’t a cold enough mornin’ to drop your body temperature to 90 degrees.” As she finished speaking, she placed a puffy cotton ball under an adhesive strip and covered the puncture point.

“I don’t know,” I answered, despite having a good guess. I’d undergone the stress of a full modification on land with no anesthesia or other assistance. My body had likely been unable to reach stasis and control my temperature, especially with the cold air and wet clothing. And, of course, my birth body rarely rose to 70 degrees Fahrenheit, so 90 degrees was still quite a leap.

“Well, Miss Natalie, my name is Dr. Loretta Kane, and this is Penny. We’re gonna get