The Crimson Chip Page 3

  “Nope,” I said, trying to smile at Becky, “this chip worked like a charm.”

  Becky laughed aloud at the joke.  “That’s one hell of a charm you have there.  What’s her name?”

  “What?”  I looked up at Becky, still staring her down, “No, please don’t bring her over here.  I don’t know what will happen if the chips get close.”

  “I’d like to talk to her.”

  “Please, I beg you.”

  Becky bent and whispered in my ear, “Tell me her name, and I’ll promise you a good night’s kiss you won't soon forget.”

  “Penelope Addario.”  Why did I just tell her?  Oh yeah, I wasn’t thinking with the right head.

  “Hey Penelope!”  Becky screamed from across the bar, “Come here, you little brat!”

  I squeezed Becky’s hand, “Please, Beck, please…”  I could hear the heavy clapping of high heels growing louder as the pain radiated throughout my back.  My arms began getting pins and needles into the hand and fingers, growing up towards my elbows the closer they got.

  “How do you know who I am, Bitch?”  Her voice; her awful high-pitched scratchy voice.

  “I know everything about you, Addario,” Becky said, “You know my fiancé’ Matt Becker?  He’s been telling me some horror stories about how you won’t leave him alone for the past three years.”

  “You are his girlfriend?”  I heard Penelope chuckle, “Since when did Matt like black trash?”

  “Matt,” Becky whispered in my ear, “Are they younger or older than you?”

  “Younger.” I whispered back.

  “Thanks, I’ll be right back, lover boy,” Becky licked my ear and rubbed my back.

  “Hey Bouncer?”  Becky screamed, “These girls just pulled a gun on me and my fiancé and said they wanted our table.  Also, I think they have fake ID’s, one of them goes to school with a hood rat cousin of mine.”

  “Is that so?”  The two bouncers at the door walked over to the two girls, “Can I see your ID’s again and do you have any weapons on you?”

  “No weapons at all, and sure.”  The bouncers took the girls purses and dumped them out on the floor, a small silver derringer fell out of Penelope’s purse.  “No weapons?”

  “That’s the gun she pulled on me before calling me racial slurs and shoving the gun in his back, which is why he’s holding his lower back, sirs.”  Becky explained to the bouncers, "I want full charges pressed against them."

  I turned around long enough to see Penelope looking at me with a shocked look on her face as the bouncers handcuffed her and her friend, leading them out of the main bar area to the holding area in the back.  Becky picked up her derringer and slid it back in her sleeve.

  “We better get out of here before the cops show up.”  Becky said, picking up her fresh bourbon and slamming it in one shot.

  “Agreed.”

  “Can you walk.”

  “Easily, can you drive or shall I?”

  “I’ve had two,” Becky looked up at me, “You can drive.”  She tossed me the keys.  “Lets go back to your place and you can explain more about this chip and how you programmed to cause pain.  Now you have my complete and utter attention.”

  “Tell you what, It’s midnight,” I said, “How about I drive you home, I’ll take a cab and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had a shitty day.”

  “Understood.”

  Becky wrapped her fingers into my hand and together we walked out into the cold night.  Twelve hours ago, I never thought this scene possible: the orange-haired woman walking hand in hand with me.  Sometimes, it’s the simple things in life that makes one smile.  A soft touch of a friendly hand is one of those things.

  Chapter 3

  I woke up the next morning still in pain from the night before.  The chip I programmed the reverberation script into reaction from Penelope’s chip CID never stopped vibrating.  My legs were numb and when I tried to stand up, I almost fell over because I couldn’t put pressure on them.

  I picked up my iPhone and called Dr. Roma’s office.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Alexander Roma.”

  “Hey boss, this Matt Becker,” I said, trying to sound confident, and failing, “I don’t think I’ll make it in today.  I’m not feeling well at all.”

  “I was hoping I could speak with you today.”

  “Is the patient from yesterday okay?”

  “I’m afraid he went into severe myocardial infarction and died trying to revive him in your room.”

  “Oh,” I said, my heart sank into the heels of my feet, “any idea how it happened?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Dr. Roma said, “there’s an autopsy scheduled for 9am, however you and I both know what caused the death.”

  “I don’t know how you think I caused a heart attack by scanning his chip.”

  “You altered the chip.”

  “I can’t alter the chip!”  I said, my voice growing in volume.

  “I’d like it if you could come in.”

  “Right now I can’t,” I said, “honest, I don’t know if I slept wrong or what, but I think I have pinched nerve in my back causing my legs to go numb and not letting me stand on them.”

  “So,” Dr. Roma said, “You aren’t coming in at all?”

  “Unless I can somehow walk in the next hour,” I said, trying to stand up and falling against the wall, “no.  I can’t stand on my own.”

  “Heavy night partying on your first death?”

  “What?”  What a dick!  “No, I can’t drink, I’m allergic to gluten, you know that.”

  “There are alcoholic drinks not containing gluten,” Dr. Roma said, “or cocaine doesn’t have gluten in it, you could take cocaine.”

  “Really?  Cocaine?”  I screamed into the phone, “Come take a blood test if you don’t believe me.  I can’t come in until I can get to the doctor’s office, and I can’t do that until I can get a ride, and that isn’t going to happen until Jason comes home. You’re my doctor!”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Bye.”

  I waited for him to say something; instead, he hung up without any goodbye.  I swear, it’s almost like he’s trying to frame me for something.  I just don’t know what, or why.

  * * * * *

  Around noon, my phone rang.  I looked over at the screen and saw it was Jason.

  “Hey bud, what’s up?”

  “What happened?” Jason asked, worried.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why is Roma calling me wondering if you’re high or something?”

  “What?”

  “He said you called into work this morning because you couldn’t walk?  Something about your legs being numb?”

  “Well, yeah,” I said, “remember when I programmed the chip to Penelope’s CID so it would warn me when she was around and I could avoid her?”

  “Yeah…” Jason said.

  “Guess who came into the bar last night when Becky and I were talking?”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Nope,” I said, “And Becky planted a gun on her and called the bouncers to have them arrested.  That’s when I drove Becky home because she had a couple of drinks and I took a cab home.”

  “So why are your legs numb?”

  “The chip hasn’t stopped vibrating,” I said, “Or the goodnight kiss from Becky was so dynamite my blood flow hasn’t gone back to the normal body extremities.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Jason said, “You stand her up and still get a goodnight kiss?”

  “Yes sir!”

  “You have to teach me how to talk to women.  I still can’t say anything to them except Hi.”

  “I’ll try to help out, but why are you calling me?”

  “Oh, right,” Jason said, getting his thoughts back together, “Dr. Roma’s on his way over to give you a drug test and make sure you’re not on drugs.”

 
“Now?”  I screamed and looked around for a scalpel, "I have to get this chip out!"

  "Why?"  Jason asked.

  “The first thing he's going to see is me unable to walk,“ I tried to explain, “and he’ll want to know why.  He's been my general doctor since I started working for him, and he'll notice the chip in me if he looks."

  "Oh," Jason said, talking faster, "I think he's on his way now."

  "Then I need to hang up and somehow get this out before this chip causes more problems."

  “Agreed,” Jason said, “Get the chip out of you and just to let you know, Roma said others are complaining about problems with their microchips.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Only the ones I put in?”

  “You got it.”

  “You sure this guy is a Christian?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “He seems,” I paused looking for the right way to say it without offending my best friend, “like Hitler thinking I’m the last Jew in the world.”

  “He’s a good man,” Jason said, “even though he may think about things different from you or I.  He’s more old school.”

  “Yeah, like prehistoric.”

  “Be nice.”

  “He’s trying to frame me for murder.”

  “What?  Where did you get that?”  Jason asked.

  “The guy that almost died yesterday?”  I said, reminding him of my meltdown.

  “Yeah…”

  “He died.”

  “Oh great.”

  “And I’m certain he’s going to target me or something I did.”  

  “But there’s no way you can!”

  “You and I know that,” I said, “but who is a grand jury going to believe?  A college kid with a history of negligence or a doctor of medicine and chief of a hospital?”

  “Good point.”

  We listened to each other breathe for a few moments; both lost in thought.  Jason broke the silence.

  “Can you take the chip out of your back or do you need me to come home and help?”

  “I can do it myself.”  I said, opening up a fresh scalpel kit.

  “Take it out as soon as you can, just be clean about it,” Jason said, “I don’t want it looking like a horror movie in there.”

  “Gotcha, bud,” I said, “and Jason?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks man,” I said, “I really do appreciate the heads up.  You really are the only friend and family I have left.”

  “Don’t mention it, just get it cleaned up and learn to walk before he knocks on the door.”

  “Got it.  Later man.  I’ll give you a call when he leaves.”

  “Thanks,” Jason said, “By the way, take a separate sample and have it tested somewhere else.”

  “Really?” I said, “Are you not trusting him either?”

  “Right now,” I heard him sigh on the other end, “I don’t know what to think anymore, I just don’t want to see you in prison.”

  “I hear ya.  Later bud.”

  “Later.”

  I tapped the ‘End Call’ button and reached over the bed for the alcohol, falling off the bed in the process.

  Numb legs make this more difficult than I expected.  At least I can’t feel the area I need to cut.

  * * * * *

  I hear the doorbell ring five minutes later.  Lying on my side, in my room, with my ass hanging out of my flannel pajamas - it gets cold sometimes, don’t judge me.

  I have the scalpel in my right hand, trying to slice the side of my back where the chip is vibrating just underneath the skin causing the numbness.  If Dr. Roma walks in now, I know I’m busted.

  “Well, what do we have here?”

  Shit.

  Dr. Roma bends down, removes the scalpel from my shaking hands, and presses on the area where the vibrating chip sits in my back, causing more pressure to surge throughout my legs.

  “You put the chip on one of the sciatic nerve branches, genius.  How you managed to get as far as you have in medical school is beyond me.  If it wasn’t for Jason Brighton suggesting you for the role in this ridiculous microchip program the DMC is undergoing for the government, you wouldn’t have a chance in health care.”

  “Just take it out.”  I beg him.

  “I like watching you suffer,” he says, “too bad you’re not on drugs, it would give you a better alibi, however stealing experimental hospital equipment for your own personal amusement is grounds for dismissal anyway.”  Dr. Roma digs the scalpel deep into my tissue, further than necessary and digs the small chip out as one shovels snow away from a buried car on the side street.

  “You’ll never work in medicine again, Mr. Becker.”

  “I never wanted to first, jackass.”  I said through tears as I watched him hold the chip in his hands, dripping with my dark red blood.

  “You can stitch yourself up now that you’re not vibrating, right?”

  Dr. Roma stood up, dropped the scalpel inches from my face and walked out of my room, “Mr. Becker, this chip proves without a shadow of doubt you altered each microchip you touched in the DMC.  I’ll have the entire demonic program out of my hospital by the end of the week.”

  “I did not alter any microchip except the one in your hands, besides, why do you want to stop something that’s helping so many people?”  I asked, still shaking.

  “It’s unnatural,” he said, walking back towards my room, “it’s against God’s law, putting computers into human beings to control organs and watch functions the body should have the power to do itself.  If the body can’t, it’s time to meet their maker.”

  “So this is about religion?”  I said, almost laughing.

  “This isn’t a laughing matter, Mr. Becker,” Dr Roma stepped back into my room, “God gave humans the freedom of choice, and having this mark of the beast implanted into their bodies gives childish hackers like yourself the ability to control others by typing code into a computer and altering their body chemicals.”

  “You believe this bullshit?”  I asked.

  “Obama-care was the first step,” Dr. Roma said, “Next he wants everyone microchipped so the government can focus, control, and track every individual citizen of the United States.  Where does it stop?  The Bible says the apocalypse starts when the free people are unable to think clearly for themselves and they are cast into fiery brimstone of hell itself.”

  “You’re insane.”  I said.

  Dr. Roma took a step back and kicked me in the throat.

  I don’t remember what happened next.

  Chapter 4

  “How is he?  I came over as soon as I heard.”  Becky said, stepping into the house.

  “Pretty bad.”  Jason said, taking Becky’s coat and hanging it on the coat rack inside the foyer, “The front door was open when I came home and Matt was laying on the floor of his room unconscious in a pool of his own blood.  I called an ambulance which took him up to Royal Oak Beaumont.  However, I did find out his boss was here and was the one who took the chip out of him and, for the most part, tortured him.”

  “How?” 

  “Matt’s phone.”

  “What?”  Becky looked confused.

  “Even in his strange state, Matt had the decency to record the entire conversation on his iPhone.  I found it under his bed.”

  “Do I want to know what’s on it?”

  “I think you should,” Jason said, “Maybe you can help me decide what to do next.”

  “Can we listen to it in the car?”  Becky asked.  “We should go see Matt.”

  “Agreed,” Jason said, “I wanted to wait for you to get here and show you this also.”

  “What now?”

  “This came in the mail from Wayne State - for Matt.”  Jason said, handing Becky a large envelope.”

  She looked confused at Jason before opening up the manila envelope and pulling out a stack of faxed paperwork from the DMC.

  “These look like�
�� time sheets?”  She said, even more confused.

  “The ones Dr. Roma said Matt wasn’t submitting,” Jason confirmed, “he did send them.  Matt took the liberty to make copies and send them to the school intern board as well.”

  “Matt knew something was wrong with Roma from the start, didn’t he?”  Becky said, looking through the papers.

  “He’s a good judge of people,” Jason said, smiling at Becky, “he knows a good soul when he sees one.”

  Becky looked up at Jason and blushed.

  “We should head up to the hospital,” Becky said, “don’t say anything about the time sheets.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think stress isn’t what he needs now,” Becky said, putting her hand on his arm, “he needs his best friend by his side.”

  Jason nodded and grabbed their coats.

  * * * * *

  I looked up and saw a bright light.  Did I die?  My back and throat hurt.  If I died, this sucked, since I hoped death would relieve the pain of life.

  As my vision cleared and items in the room came clearer into focus, I saw Jason and Becky standing next to me, and a handful of doctors and nurses on the other side.

  “Hello there, Mr. Becker,” one of the doctors said, “how are you feeling?”

  I tried to say “Peachy” however my throat constricted and a slight wheeze is all that escaped.  Instead, I gave a weak smile and thumbs up.

  Becky smiled at me.  Not sure why, but Jason did too.

  “You gave us a scare,” another doctor said, “you lost a good amount of blood, do you know what happened?”

  I nodded. Then shook my head no.

  “Maybe when your voice returns you could fill in some of the blanks for us?”

  I turned to Jason who seemed to know what I was going for.  He handed over my iPhone.  I tapped open the voice recorder option and hit playback, playing the entire scene from the brutal attack back in my room.  The looks on everyone’s faces were those watching a horror film for the first time. The utter shock and vicious brutality coming from someone known as a peaceful man like Dr. Roma made one nurse vomit.  After hearing myself on the tape and hearing Dr. Roma’s voice, I felt myself growing depressed.  One thing I forgot about: the chip I made contained all my psychiatric meds.  It is one thing to have meds in your system all the time, however it is another to go cold turkey. The sudden drop in dopamine and serotonin levels sends a nervous system into shock. I think I know what it feels like now. I feel cold, alone, and I want nothing more than everyone to leave me alone, and everyone staring at me with pity in their eyes made the situation worse. Imagine someone slapping you every time you laughed, and this same person taking you to a comedy movie in public. After a few hard smacks, you find yourself trying to focus on things not on the screen and trying not to laugh because you know pain happens because of laughing. In addition, no matter how hard you try; you cannot trade seats with the slapper because no one else wants to sit next to something that smacks you when you laugh.