Michael almost died again… because I made a mistake.

The Russian gold dealer seemed like a sure thing (at least online). He was one of the biggest (and quite shady) gold buyers in the state, and I thought the exchange would go smoothly. Yeah, I know that when you work with criminals nothing is exactly a slam-dunk, but he had a good reputation for fairness, in certain circles.

It is an object lesson on how limited my new existence is; all this processing power and mountains of data at my fingertips, and I still messed up. I'm beginning to suspect that there is something deeply different with my way of thinking. If I was my old self, (as in—still made of flesh and bone), maybe I would have been more inclined to expect the unknown and prepared accordingly. Now, I am more prone to go with logical plans and conclusions, which may have been a mistake. As everybody knows, humans do not rely on logic most of the time. I will need to work on that.

When the deal went sideways and those Albanian thugs drew their guns, I increased my AI-core's processing power to the maximum, extending the amount of time I had to think of a solution to this FUBAR situation, as Michael called it. I ran multiple scenarios, including all possible variables my digital mind could think of, and in most of them—Michael ended up dead. Now that is most certainly not an option I cared for, so… I cheated. (If a situation’s outcome is not developing as you envisioned it, change the variables, or create a completely new one.)

The Boost was an act of desperation, a Hail Mary, and at the same time an insane gamble on my part. It was an experimental performance enhancement technique that I came up with while applying game theory to possible future upgrades. Originally, I dismissed it as too taxing on Michael's system, as it was now. The only reason the Boost protocol was even a part of his enhancements was that his nanites were still in the process of creating the groundwork for future upgrades. The problem was–only the soft part of the protocol was completed. When I say the soft part, I am referring to everything that tends to be mushy. Glands, muscle anchors, neural pathways for faster data processing. But the hard parts, that were essential for the Boost to be safe to use, were still in the upgrade queue. His very bones were not ready to endure such force. The Boost protocol should have only been considered after Michael went through the extensive upgrade procedures that would make his body capable of withstanding the extreme strain on almost every system.

Let me repeat myself, ‘Needs must when the devil drives’.

Ok, let me elaborate a bit. A human body is driven by numerous complex chemical processes and reactions and that is what I essentially wanted to exploit. You all heard stories of how ordinary people performed almost impossible acts of inordinate strength. A mother lifts a car to save her child, a man runs faster than the world record Olympians to get away from danger, and many others. If you can duplicate the same chemical cocktail those people had in their blood during the time of extreme stress, then the human body can perform well above its ordinary limits… for a short period of time.

I read dozens of studies covering this particular phenomenon. Unfortunately, it is an extremely exhausting process; athletes who are taking enhancing drugs are little children on a sugar rush compared to this (it’s a hundred times more potent).

The Boost is essentially that, only enhanced by an order of magnitude. Activating that protocol in Michael’s body was done out of desperation. It was a new variable that could change the odds in his favor, but it was also a thing that could have killed him. I took a wild chance and hoped for the best. Like a desperate Las Vegas gambler putting all his money on one number and then waiting where the roulette ball will stop. My digital breath stopped and I crossed my fingers for luck… just in case.

In a very short amount of time, I injected an insane amount of adrenaline and other chemicals into Michael’s bloodstream, by manipulating his glands. If he wasn't in top physical condition… I think he would have died then and there.

A normal human heart would have burst from the ridiculous amounts of strain. You have all heard the expression heart skips a beat? Well, his actually did for a moment, before it started to pump that life carrying liquid like it was possessed. And don’t even get me started on his blood pressure. Every single vein in his body must have become quite pronounced. Think of Dr. Bruce Banner going through his Hulk transformation, and you get a general idea. (Except that Hulk took his time to transform, Michael went through it in a matter of a few seconds.)

Jesus H. Christ, what a balancing act that was. I had to monitor his body's reaction each and every second for the adequate dosage of chemicals to keep him in the zone, and not to kill him by overdose. (As I said, this procedure was supposed to be an option only when all the upgrades I planned were implemented.)

Frankly, if Elizabeth did not get herself involved when she did, it would not have been enough. It was a lucky break for Michael, another unknown variable in a losing situation. The nanites would have kept him alive to a point, but with four men shooting at him—he would have ended up as dead as a doornail.

Torn muscles, hairline fractures in several bones, burst blood vessels, were only a few defects his body developed in that short time he was under the Boost. His medical nanites were running around like a swarm of agitated hornets, to patch all the damaged things within the system. And his CEI was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of emergencies it had to deal with. The gunshot wound he acquired was an additional hurdle that needed to be taken care of ASAP. I even had to completely suppress all his pain receptors, or he would have been immobilized. Lying on the floor and screaming in agony.

If that was not bad enough, we needed to save Elizabeth, a girl that took a bullet meant for Michael. I have done an analysis of that bullet trajectory. If it was not interrupted… it was a kill shot. Michael’s body was already in a sorry state, with one gaping gunshot wound in his back and with the responsible piece of lead lodged in his stomach. That second bullet would have hit his heart, and that usually has some effect on life expectancy. While medical nanites can perform miracles, that particular one was beyond their capabilities.

That bullet hit her in the chest and managed to lodge itself close to her heart. As soon as Michael put pressure on her wound, I transferred some nanites to close the torn blood vessels and prevent her from bleeding out… but it wasn't enough. She was dying, and no matter how advanced this alien technology was, actually bringing someone back from the dead wasn't in any of the manuals I found on this ship.

Therefore, I had Michael cut his hand open and transferred a considerable amount of his nanites. This was not the best thing to do considering his state, I even had to override his CEI since its primary directive was to keep Michael alive, not somebody else.

I now had two critical patients to look after, which was not what I planned to do today.

Elizabeth was easier to stabilize, I knocked her out and directed the nanites to stop the bleeding (and patching up everything they could), but Michael's condition was getting worse. To ensure he was still functional, I continued to pump adrenaline into his body, which is, as any Doctor will tell you, not healthy to do for a long period of time.

At that point, I made one of the toughest decisions ever. Something that could have again cost Michael his life (Elizabeth’s too). However, leaving all that DNA evidence inside the warehouse would have landed Michael in jail… or worse. Even if it was technically self-defense, he had committed multiple murders, and no lawyer could have gotten him out of that. Not to mention that we were there to do an illegal gold deal, without paying any taxes. The IRS can be even more daunting than the mob. So I made him torch the place (and then had to instruct him on almost every action he made, because he wasn’t tracking all that well).

The drive back to the cabin was simply horrifying. He was like a drunk driver that was constantly on the edge of falling asleep. I had to talk to him, constantly, and even yell a few times to keep him conscious.

He barely made it back in time, and even that was a testament to the procedure that enhanced his body to the peak of normal functionality. Another twenty minutes and he would have collapsed and… Elizabeth would have died without being brought to the AutoDoc.

Somehow, he managed to get her to the ship, even if for most of the trip he was using the levitating stretcher carrying Elizabeth to pull him along. And his descent down the entrance shaft was an unnerving experience for me (I don’t know how he managed not to fall, repeating the very thing that started this whole thing).

After I got the confirmation that they were both stable, and on their way to recovery… I let out a digital breath. This was one of the most stressful situations in my digital existence, but I had an inkling it will not be the last.

One thing was as clear as day. Even improved, Michael’s body was still way too fragile… I will need to rectify that.