Issues with Respawning (2)

--Gatix--

The doc kept me in the hospital for two more days before he was persuaded to release me. I tried to hit the training room not long after that, but Boss asked me to wait another day. Since he asked so nicely, I had no choice but to do as he asked.

Turned out to be a wise decision. I had the most spectacular failure of my professional career the first time around. Dax had been right: whatever the teleporter did to my head messed with my movement. I'd never notice it in a regular day, but I became all thumbs whenever the adrenaline started flowing. I even dropped my weapon twice in the heat of simulated combat, much to my shame. Boss lost some money from the sound of it, which might explain why he was in a mood the next day.

Now that I think of it, Dax appeared unusually cheery at the same time. He had a field day with the data he collected during my failed training sessions, but I have to give credit: my movement improved after every visit. I could feel I wasn't back in top shape - my reactions felt slightly more sluggish than before - but as I hadn't dropped my weapon since, I considered it a win. It took four weeks of higher-than-average training to get in sufficient shape. I wasn't beating my high scores, but Boss wasn't glaring at me when I asked to return. Even less so after I passed my fitness exam, which is why I was standing fully armored and waiting for my ride to Dax's lab.

“Agent?” Nev asked from his new home. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I am detecting some hesitance on your side. You are not as enthusiastic as before.”

“Got to check out the new suit first.” I was upset upon learning Dax had destroyed my previous suit, but seeing the videos of how I looked after I got back? A bottle of Dax's favorite drink appeared on his desk when he wasn't looking. The suit was trashed: the plates were broken, cracked, and twisted where the dragon's tail slammed into me. The only thing holding the right shoulder in place was the inner wire frame and a crack separated everything from the right knee downwards.

A new suit would be required, and Dax was nice enough to make one for me. It wasn't much different from the previous one, but he did adjust the actuators to compensate for the holes in my head. Nev's sensors also received an upgrade, so hopefully, I'll get fewer “I'm not quite sure” responses. The biggest upgrades were to the armor plates, which were now significantly thicker. According to Dax, the dangers presented by the parallel world were higher than he anticipated, which required additional protection. Getting beat up twice in forty-eight hours would lead one to think that. But the most important change, for me at least, was the secondary weapon clipped against my hip.

“Your verdict?”

“Seems to be all good. I can't hear anything strange in the motors, and all the sensors check out.”

“Vibrations?”

“Just one in my ear asking why I'm not hurrying up.”

“Must be a side effect of the brain damage.”

Wise-ass.

But I was stalling, and Nev was right. I was fully armored with Scythe clipped to my back and Fang to my hip. No reason to hesitate, yet I did. Stupid, I know. Experience has taught me not to get scared or mad I was beaten, but to take the lesson to heart and get even. But still... This was the closest I've come to kicking the bucket in a long time, and that was only my second trip over. Hopefully, that wouldn't be indicative of the rest of the mission.

Time to take the new world a bit more seriously, I slowly blew out a breath.

“I have to ask again, are you okay, Agent?”

“For the second time, yes.”

“Should I advise our superior that you are not psychologically capable of taking on the task?”

“No. Thanks for worrying about me, buddy, I'm sure you had no walk in the park either, but it's no use sitting here and hiding under my bed. Gotta find the boogeyman, and put a bullet in its head.”

“Understood.” The elevator doors opened. Only the Boss and Dax were in the room, as usual.

“You sure you're ready for this?” Boss asked as I walked to the teleporter, coming to a stop on top of my usual spot.

“Yup.”

“Dax, what do you think?”

“Hmm?” The scientist tore his eyes away from the monitor. “Sorry, could you please repeat?”

“Do you think he's ready?”

“My opinion does not matter. I'm sure he'll force his way into the parallel world regardless of it.”

“You're making me sound like some sort of barbarian.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I'd at least ask politely the first time.” I chuckled. “Yes, I am fine. No headaches, I haven't fallen over myself in the last week, and Dax's new suit is working. Nev's happy, so I'm happy.”

“Dax has one last thing he'd like to mention.” I turned to the scientist. News that followed sentences like these were rarely good.

“Yes.” Dax nodded. “It seems the emergency teleporter is more dangerous than we anticipated.”

“You did say it's only to be used in case of emergencies?”

“Yes, but we have discovered additional complications unknown to us initially. While you are miraculously making it out alive, your body is absorbing radiation from somewhere. The levels are non-lethal, but it affects the wormhole.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the more you teleport, the bigger the chance the Reaper will claim what's due.” Boss finished for him.

I turned my gaze back to Dax. “You can't compensate for that?”

“To a degree. We have applied the necessary models to the fail-safe for this trip, but simulating, solving, and testing the solution will take months, possibly more than a year. So I re-emphasize, the failsafe is only to be used in extreme situations.”

“I see.” I blew out a breath.

“You sure of this, Gatix?” Boss asked. “We have other agents on call.”

“None on my level, and you know it. Besides, I've made contact with Ms. Queen. She might still remember me. It could help speed up the search process.”

“Won't lie, I'm not a fan, but good luck, Agent.” Boss jerked his head towards Dax. “Do it.”

With official confirmation received, the scientist started typing on his console. “Opening the bridge.”

“Are you ready, Nev?” I asked as the white star formed.

“Functioning at one hundred percent capacity.”

“Good.” I unclipped Scythe from my back, adjusting my posture as I took the bulk of the weapon's weight in my left hand. The creation of the black sphere was my cue to head out, a process I started with a meaningful step forward. “Then here we go...”