Sleeping Giants by Sylvain Neuvel

Sleeping Giants by Sylvain Neuvel

Author:Sylvain Neuvel [Neuvel, Sylvain]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781101886694
Google: V7_VsgEACAAJ
Amazon: B00ZNE44FK
Barnesnoble: B00ZNE44FK
Goodreads: 25733990
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2016-01-01T06:00:00+00:00


FILE NO. 161

INTERVIEW WITH CW3 KARA RESNIK, UNITED STATES ARMY

Location: Underground Complex, Denver, CO

—I can’t stand it anymore. I feel like I’m watching him die, every day, all the time. If he’s not unconscious, he’s in agony. No one can stand that much pain all the time. I’m surprised he lasted this long.

—He can walk, can he not?

—No! He can’t! You can’t call that walking. You and I are walking. He can barely take a couple steps before his whole body starts shaking. Then he collapses and—to spare us—pretends it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. I’ve had to pick him up from the ground three times today. No one wants to hurt him any more than he already is, so no one says anything.

—And what would they say if they dared?

—He just doesn’t have enough muscle mass left.

—Is he taking his drugs?

—Religiously. But his body’s adapting to the muscle-building agent. The doctor says his tolerance will continue to increase.

—We will find him new medication.

—You can’t keep pumping him full of experimental drugs. His body’s been through enough already.

—Would you rather we let him suffer?

—He doesn’t have to suffer. Take these things out of him and let him rest. He can learn to walk with prosthetics when he’s ready.

—You do realize that this project would essentially be over if he lost his legs. You would be willing to throw away all the work that he did, that you did, to spare him some pain for a few weeks?

—It’s not a few weeks. And if the alternative is to watch him die, then yes, I give up. We’re killing him! And it wouldn’t have to be over. We can find a way to make the helmet work for someone else. We can rig the controls so he can maneuver with his arms. There are a hundred things we can do that don’t involve torturing him. This? What we’re doing to him? It’s just wrong.

—From what Dr. Franklin tells me, we are decades—if not centuries—away from fully understanding the technology behind the helmet. I would also point out that you and Mr. Mitchell—a man in tremendously better shape than Mr. Couture—have worked countless hours in the sphere and were able to make her walk only for a few steps. You cannot seriously suggest that Mr. Couture could control robotic legs with his hands and operate the console with any kind of efficiency. That would be putting his life, and yours, at risk. Mr. Couture is a grown man. Why not let him make his own decisions?

—No. Of course, he’ll take new drugs if you give him a choice. He’d do anything to get the project back on track.

—Some would call that dedication. I would hardly call it a problem.

—It’s not just his body that’s messed up. He’s changed.

—Is he depressed?

—No, quite the opposite. He says this ordeal’s made him see things differently. He keeps telling us how much he appreciates every little thing. You should see him with me. He’s kind, he’s…attentive.



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