Hard Crash - Christie Golden [12]
"Computer," she instructed, "replicate the alien's brain."
It appeared on the table beside the skull. Lense was shocked. It looked, on first examination, no more complex than that of an average human. She had begun to wonder if this species was more highly developed, but apparently not.
Em, too, seemed a little disappointed. "It looks a great deal like a simpl e human brain," he said.
"Let's look a little closer. Computer, separate the brain along the two hemispheres." The computer complied and Lense picked up one in each hand, scrutinizing them carefully. "The corpus callosum is severely degraded," she said, confused. That slab of white nerve fibers was what transferred important information from one hemisphere to another. Thus degraded, it made it highly unlikely that the pilot could function.
"It doesn't look damaged," said Em. "Perhaps the brain transferred information by some other method."
Lense nodded, though she had her doubts. There were a few things common to all humanoids and the corpus callosum was one of them. This body was becoming more intriguing to her by the minute.
Further examination of the brain only whet her appetite. Other parts of the brain were degraded. Some seemed to be completely missing. Other areas were so developed as to be completely unrecognizable.
"This is absolutely fascinating. We'll have to come back to this later, but I want to complete the procedure so you're familiar with it. Computer, add musculature."
Again, the pilot's muscles were not as well developed as she would have expected. She glanced over at the actual body. It seemed fit and strong. Why, then, were the muscles so atrophied? This was not a result of decay, for the computer was programmed to extrapolate on how the musculature was in life. She thought about the brain with its missing corpus callosum. Something strange was going on here. She asked Emmett what he thought.
"The muscles could be artificially stimulated," he suggested.
She smiled a little. She'd caught him in an error. "But then the muscles themselves would show us that stimulation, wouldn't they?"
He nodded, confused. "Then I have no theory," he said, apologetically.
"Neither do I, not yet. Let's see if the skin tells us anything. Computer, apply the epidermal layers."
And this was when it always started to get to her. Once you had skin, you had a face, and once you had a face, you suddenly had a person. This face was a sweet one.
"It is a shame she died so young," said Emmett, softly. Lense shared his regret. The girl on the table, eyes closed softly as if in sleep, was only an adolescent. In human years, Lense put her age at about fifteen. Just a girl, a child. She must have been attractive in life. Large eyes, with greenish freckles on skin that was almost human-colored but a bit chalkier. Long brown hair with green highlights pooled around her head.
But there was something not right. Something was missing.
"Wait just a minute," said Lense. She glanced back from the actual body to the holographic replication. "Look at the temples."
Emmett followed her gaze. "They're not sunken on the actual body," he said.
"Exactly. Why do you suppose that is?" Without waiting for an answer, she went to the body and gently touched the temples. Her questing fingers found something hard and spherical.
Lense's heart began to race. Firmly, she told herself not to jump to conclusions. "Something has been embedded here," she said. "The computer didn't replicate it because we didn't ask it to. The good old sense of touch comes through again. Computer, scan the body. What is the source of the spherical nodes on the cranium?"
"Cybernetic implants," replied the computer, utterly unperturbed by the direness of the words.
Lense swallowed. "Purpose?"
"Unknown."
"Display on holographic replica. Remove skin layer."
She caught her breath as the computer complied. The pilot lay before them, devoid of the skin that