Terminator Salvation_ The Official Movie Novelization - Alan Dean Foster [58]
Dropping his head and lowering his gaze, he for the first time caught sight of himself, dangling above the high, deep drop. Despite a sudden desperate desire to do so, he found that he couldn’t scream. The shock of what he was seeing utterly overwhelmed the horror. And it had nothing to do with the height at which he found himself suspended.
He was looking at the inside of himself, and what he was seeing made no sense.
The woman they had called Kate was still talking. “...hybrid neural system for certain, but how it was accomplished is beyond me. Whoever did the work would have to have been part surgeon, part mechanical engineer, and all visionary. It’s as remarkable as it is disturbing. There appears to be a dual central cortex—one human, one machine.”
They were ignoring him, discussing him the way he had once discussed with his brother the best way to get more horsepower out of an old Ford big block. Did you remove this or that part, replace it, or have it remachined?
“What did you do to me? This isn’t me. What’s going on here?”
They paid no attention to his frantic questions. It was almost as if he wasn’t there.
Almost as if he wasn’t one of them.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You were right, John.” Kate’s attention shifted back and forth between her husband and the—creature. “Something has changed. This—thing—is unlike anything we’ve encountered previously. Aside from the technology that’s been incorporated into it, the surgical skill required to fabricate such a hybrid is beyond anything I could even begin to imagine.” She turned thoughtful. “Even back in the late twentieth century they were successfully implanting all kinds of artificial parts into people. First hip joints, then tendons and ligaments. Hearts, too. But it’s one thing to transplant a heart from one human into another. Linking it up with an entirely synthetic circulatory system—that’s new.
“As for linking it all to a half-machine brain and still having the original retain its full bank of memories without any apparent permanent loss or damage....” She shook her head. “It’s a miracle or a horror—take your pick.”
Connor studied the agonized figure that was hanging in suspension.
“We don’t know that the brain in question is retaining actual memories from the original cortex. The ‘memories’ the creature is experiencing could be implants designed to enhance its feeling of humanity and thereby augment its ability to deceive.” His tone was icy. “It’s all clever programming. To make the thing believe it actually is human.”
She blinked. “That’s possible. Or there could be a cerebral divide; part original memories from the time when the brain was in a human body, and the rest adjectival programming by whoever fashioned the final amalgam.” She returned her attention to the despondent, dangling body. “Given time and access to sufficiently sophisticated instrumentation, there might be a way to separate them out.”
“There might be a quicker way. And an easier one.” He also turned back toward the hanging shape. “It might also reveal nothing. On the other hand, the cost in time and equipment will be negligible. We’ll just ask it.” Taking a step toward the figure, he waited until the eyes—human eyes, Kate had determined, but with ingeniously disguised electronic enhancements—rose to meet his own.
“Who built you? What is your ‘T-class’ designation? How are you supposed to carry out your prime function when depth scans have revealed no internal armament, no concealed explosives, and only internalized communications facilities?”
As the figure being questioned stared back at Connor, exhaustion and despair gave way to defiance.
“My name is Marcus...Wright.”
Fascinating, Connor mused. Enticing and yet repellant.