addicts."
"I wasn't an addict," Del said. At least, he hadn't been then, though gods only knew where he might have ended up. "It's more dangerous for me not to have the nanos." He stared at his hands where they rested in his lap. "All these medical wonders we put in our bodies--they backfire sometimes."
Mac's voice went quiet. "What happened?"
It was a moment before Del could answer. "When I was younger, I experimented with tau-kickers." He looked back at Mac. "I thought they would make me a better artist. Expand my mind." In a brittle voice, he added, "I was stupid."
"Tau-kickers? What are those?"
Del wished he were anywhere but here, telling Mac his past. "Hallucinogens manufactured in mesh-slums on the world Metropoli." He almost stopped, but then he said, "Do you remember the glitter in the air on Lyshriol?"
Mac paused at the change of topic. "The pollen?"
"That's right. It's everywhere, the ground, air, water. You can't always see it, but it saturates the biosphere. That's why the clouds look blue. It's sort of like food dye."
"Ah. Yes, I remember." Mac smiled wryly. "My people had to get treatments so we didn't get sick from drinking the water."
Del had guessed as much. "Those of us who live there are born with protections. We have self-replicating molecules in our bodies to deal with it, like tiny chemical laboratories. A mother passes them to her child in the womb." Bitterly, he said, "I also carry nanomeds in my body that keep me healthy. Hell, I could live two centuries."
Mac was watching him closely. "I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me."
Del took a breath. "All these molecular wonders we put in our bodies--they're designed to work together. So they don't interact in a bad way and harm us."
Mac waited. Then he said, "But?"
Del stared at the back of the driver's head. "Sometimes even the best medicine doesn't work." He shrugged as if he didn't care, but he doubted he fooled Mac. "When I took the kickers, they kicked all right. They had some bizarre reaction with the nanomeds in my body. Once it started, it cascaded. My lungs, blood vessels, lymph, neural, hell, my breathing--it all went wild. Then everything shut down."
"Good Lord." Mac stared at him. "How did you survive?"
Del met his gaze. "I didn't."
Mac blinked. "You look alive to me."
Del turned to stare out the window next to him. "The doctors revived me. Eventually."
Silence.
Finally Mac said, "And they gave you new meds to counter any drugs the doctors thought could kill you?"
"That's right." Del watched the city glitter below. "Alcohol makes me more susceptible, so they took care of that, too." The doctors couldn't remove his nanomeds; their interactions with his body had become so complicated, it was impossible to take them out completely. And without them, ironically, he would no longer have protection against side-effects from the treatments that countered his susceptibility to drugs.
"You seem so healthy," Mac said. "So unaffected."
"I am healthy." Del couldn't say he was unaffected. It had been a horrific time in his life. Although his family was the royal dynasty of Skolia, the government had controlled their lives until just recently. Del had learned the hard way how those with power could exploit the vulnerabilities of people they sought to command.
Mac spoke gently. "There's more, isn't there?"
Del shook his head. He couldn't talk anymore. He was also aware of the general's men in the flycar. He doubted Allied Space Command cared about his personal hells; they wanted secrets that would impact their balance of power with Skolia. And he did know a few "little things," such as, oh, how far his brother the Imperator would go in negotiating the presence of Earth's military forces in Skolian space. Del would never tell the Allieds. So instead they knew he had been treated for drug use. That would fit right in with General Fitz McLane's low opinion of him. Del wished he had kept his mouth shut. He closed the memories away,
"I wasn't an addict," Del said. At least, he hadn't been then, though gods only knew where he might have ended up. "It's more dangerous for me not to have the nanos." He stared at his hands where they rested in his lap. "All these medical wonders we put in our bodies--they backfire sometimes."
Mac's voice went quiet. "What happened?"
It was a moment before Del could answer. "When I was younger, I experimented with tau-kickers." He looked back at Mac. "I thought they would make me a better artist. Expand my mind." In a brittle voice, he added, "I was stupid."
"Tau-kickers? What are those?"
Del wished he were anywhere but here, telling Mac his past. "Hallucinogens manufactured in mesh-slums on the world Metropoli." He almost stopped, but then he said, "Do you remember the glitter in the air on Lyshriol?"
Mac paused at the change of topic. "The pollen?"
"That's right. It's everywhere, the ground, air, water. You can't always see it, but it saturates the biosphere. That's why the clouds look blue. It's sort of like food dye."
"Ah. Yes, I remember." Mac smiled wryly. "My people had to get treatments so we didn't get sick from drinking the water."
Del had guessed as much. "Those of us who live there are born with protections. We have self-replicating molecules in our bodies to deal with it, like tiny chemical laboratories. A mother passes them to her child in the womb." Bitterly, he said, "I also carry nanomeds in my body that keep me healthy. Hell, I could live two centuries."
Mac was watching him closely. "I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me."
Del took a breath. "All these molecular wonders we put in our bodies--they're designed to work together. So they don't interact in a bad way and harm us."
Mac waited. Then he said, "But?"
Del stared at the back of the driver's head. "Sometimes even the best medicine doesn't work." He shrugged as if he didn't care, but he doubted he fooled Mac. "When I took the kickers, they kicked all right. They had some bizarre reaction with the nanomeds in my body. Once it started, it cascaded. My lungs, blood vessels, lymph, neural, hell, my breathing--it all went wild. Then everything shut down."
"Good Lord." Mac stared at him. "How did you survive?"
Del met his gaze. "I didn't."
Mac blinked. "You look alive to me."
Del turned to stare out the window next to him. "The doctors revived me. Eventually."
Silence.
Finally Mac said, "And they gave you new meds to counter any drugs the doctors thought could kill you?"
"That's right." Del watched the city glitter below. "Alcohol makes me more susceptible, so they took care of that, too." The doctors couldn't remove his nanomeds; their interactions with his body had become so complicated, it was impossible to take them out completely. And without them, ironically, he would no longer have protection against side-effects from the treatments that countered his susceptibility to drugs.
"You seem so healthy," Mac said. "So unaffected."
"I am healthy." Del couldn't say he was unaffected. It had been a horrific time in his life. Although his family was the royal dynasty of Skolia, the government had controlled their lives until just recently. Del had learned the hard way how those with power could exploit the vulnerabilities of people they sought to command.
Mac spoke gently. "There's more, isn't there?"
Del shook his head. He couldn't talk anymore. He was also aware of the general's men in the flycar. He doubted Allied Space Command cared about his personal hells; they wanted secrets that would impact their balance of power with Skolia. And he did know a few "little things," such as, oh, how far his brother the Imperator would go in negotiating the presence of Earth's military forces in Skolian space. Del would never tell the Allieds. So instead they knew he had been treated for drug use. That would fit right in with General Fitz McLane's low opinion of him. Del wished he had kept his mouth shut. He closed the memories away,
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