The pain was almost unbearable, forcing me to my knees as my legs gave way under the strain. My fingers, bent into claws by muscle spasms, tore ineffectually at the sides of my head as I tried in desperation to remove the source of my agony. I felt it spread inwards, starting as a sharp piercing, burrowing sensation, before spreading out, tendril like, both across and deeper into my head. The pain travelled like spilled ink, pouring into the recesses of my brain, filling the gaps within my skull, dominating my every thought until my very consciousness was sidelined and I no longer thought. I was simply pain, nothing else. The last thing I remembered before passing out was Ash, reaching out towards the Tech Specs, trying to remove them from my face. The pain didn't stop as she pulled the glasses from away from me, then I was overwhelmed by my torment.
The next thing I remembered was softness. Touch was the first sense to return, and I felt myself suspended as if I were lying on a cotton cloud. Slowly, experimentally, I opened my eyes, half expecting to see a vision of pearly gates and angelic hosts. As my bleary eyes adjusted to to the light, my surroundings slowly swam into focus. I was lying on a bed, in what seemed like the medical examination room of the Hub. Across the room, two blurry figures were hunched over a computer screen in apparent concentration. I let out a feeble groan as I tried to sit upright. As I flumped unsuccessfully backwards, the two figures turned around sharply and rushed to my side.
"Ash. . . What.... Dave?" I uttered, semi coherently.
"Don't move." Ash replied, laced with concern. "We don't know what exactly happened yet, so you have to be careful."
"I'm just glad you're awake. You've been comatose for a good seven hours lad." Dave added.
"Don't worry about me." I said, with an unconvincing air of defiance. "I've felt worse after a night on the lash." I tried to sit up again but my determination was betrayed by my stiff and unresponsive limbs. Instead I flashed a smug grin, as if lying there was what I had intended all along. "Yep, a good fry and a black coffee. That's what I need."
"This is why you never win at poker." Ash murmured to herself, before explaining further. "We've taken a few scans of your head, along with a biopsy or two, and... well... there's no easy way of putting this..."
"Your head is filled with plastic." Dave added, bluntly. "Seems those specs injected you with a dose of malleable, fluid plastic. It's weird stuff, acts almost like it's alive."
"It's formed a latticework around your brain, but we don't know why, or what it means for you."
"And, there's no chance of removing it, I suppose?" I asked, hopefully.
"Well, yes and no." Dave replied. "We can't destroy the plastic without risking your brain... but the plastic is bio-degradable. Should dissolve in about three days."
"Assuming it hasn't killed you by then." Ash added, sternly. I could tell she blamed me for recklessly trying on the glasses, and herself for not stopping me. I thought of saying something, of explaining myself, but it wasn't the time. So I kept quiet, for now. Instead, I posed a question.
"So, have you run a check in the archives for living plastic?"
"Of course. We're not helpless without you." Ash responded. "Best and only concrete match is a race called the Autons. Living plastic soldiers, controlled via hive mind by a creature called a Nestene Consciousness. They've tried to invade Earth a few times, usually by taking control of plastic objects, devices and shop mannequins."
"There's no real evidence of them injecting people with plastic before, but it's not unreasonable to assume it's an attempt at mind control of some form." Dave added.
I thought about my situation for a moment before replying. Was it possible that the Nestene could control me via this lattice? If not, then what else was its purpose. And if it could, then would I be compelled to aid in its conquest? How could my friends trust me in the battle to come? How could I trust my own thoughts? Would I even know if my thoughts were not my own?
Unaware of my internal grief, Ash continued with her uncovered information.
"Last reported Auton incursion was only a few years ago. UNIT defeated a potential invasion threatening the UK. Something centred around a new tech start-up supplying 3D printers to offices around the UK, which began to mass produce plastic warriors."
"And guess the name of said company?" Dave continued, giddily. "DevlinTech."
"What, the same as our local Tech Specs guy?" I asked incredulously. "That's not a coincidence. Not possible."
"Exactly. Best guess, some part of the Nestene survived, and is trying again, here instead. Posing as an Irish tech genius." Ash added.
"And the specs, this plastic? It's to turn humanity into soldiers loyal to the Nestene." I finished, finally getting what my teammates had worked out while I'd be asleep. The Tech Specs were to launch in Cork in just 36 hours. We had a daunting task ahead, and little idea if how to proceed. And I was likely a saboteur controlled remotely by our enemy. So, business as usual, I suppose.
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