Saints in a Chip

The operating table was cold, and Jude could feel his buttocks freezing against the metallic surface. He shifted slightly, trying to slip his gown between his skin and the table. Still, the restraints on his wrists, ankles, neck, and head held him firmly in place, preventing any movement. The sedative Agatha had given him hadn’t kicked in yet, leaving him acutely aware of his surroundings.

“Is everything okay?” he could hear Agatha’s voice through the speaker in the operating room.

“My ass is freezing.”

“Oh... I’m sorry! I can’t change the temperature... well, actually... I don’t know how,” she admitted, her nervous laughter echoing in the sterile room.

Jude couldn’t help but chuckle. “Great. Just what I need—”

“Just hang in there! The sedative will kick in soon, and you won’t feel a thing,” Agatha reassured him, though he could hear the faint tremor in her voice. “We’re just running a few last-minute checks.”

He tried to glance around, taking in the array of machines and tools surrounding him. But it was almost impossible, with the harsh, blinding overhead lights. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, trying to mask his distrust of Agatha's know-how. “Looks more like you're ready for a lobotomy.”

“Very funny.”

A robotic arm holding a thin wire approached his face, too close for Jude's taste. His heart raced as he squinted at the device, instinctively wanting to pull away.

“What’s that?” Jude’s voice began to slur, the sedative taking stronger hold of him.

“It’s a scanning wire,” Agatha replied through the speaker. “It doesn’t hurt... I think. Just scanning your brain map to build your mind-sculpt—”

“Mind-sculpt?” Jude interrupted.

“Yes! We need to create a neural interface that will allow you to connect with the simulation more effectively. It’s crucial for gathering intel,” she explained quickly, but there was an edge of uncertainty in her voice that didn’t ease his nerves.

Jude’s focus drifted as the wire inched closer, the cold metal glinting under the bright lights. Panic began to creep in, the weight of the situation crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Are you sure about this?” he managed to ask, feeling the drug cloud his thoughts.

“Absolutely! We’ve done this process extensively, and it’s safe,” Agatha assured him, though the tremor in her voice suggested she was trying to convince herself as much as him. “Just stay calm. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“How many times did you do this?”

“Oh, hum… this is my first time.”

Her words didn’t comfort him—not even a bit. As the robotic arm approached his face even closer, dread twisted in Jude’s stomach.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp violation through his nostrils. The thin wire forced itself between his eyes, piercing the boundary until it reached his brain.

A gasp escaped his lips, panic rising within him. “What the fucking fuck?!” he exclaimed, squirming against the restraints, instinctively trying to pull away.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s just the scanning process. You're good. I’m good. We're all good,” Agatha hurried to explain. I promise it’s just scanning your brain. It won’t hurt! At least it shouldn’t…”

But Jude couldn’t shake the discomfort. The sensation was intrusive, like a cold foreign object invading his brain. He felt a wave of disorientation wash over him as the wire continued its probing journey, sending tingling sensations radiating through his skull that transformed quickly into an unbearable headache.

“Just breathe, Jude! Focus on my voice,” Agatha urged. “You’re safe.”

He tried to do as she said, but the reality of the situation gnawed at him. This wasn’t just a routine procedure; it felt like an invasion, a violation of his very being. Memories of his mother, friends in the army, and his life with Marta flashed through his mind, anchoring him to the present. He focused on their moments together—the laughter, the plans for their son—anything to keep the panic at bay.

“Just a little longer,” Agatha reassured him, but her words felt distant as he fought against the rising pain in his head—it felt like it was about to explode.

The wire twisted slightly, and Jude felt a rush of warmth spread through his body. It was almost as if the device was reading not just his mind but all the secrets and lies he kept deeply hidden, even from himself.

Jude liked the big chair. It was his special place, the throne from which he could watch his mummy move about, doing funny things around the big things in their home. She smelled good, and he loved how her laughter filled the room.

But today was different. He was crying, his little stomach grumbling with hunger, and he took all his lung power to call out for her. He cried as loud as he could, his screams booming in the room.

“Come on, Juju! A little more, the bottle is too hot!”

Her voice returned to him, soothing but distant, and he pushed his tears and cried even louder, desperate for her attention. He wanted to eat, yes, but more than that, he wanted her to look at him. To see him right now!

Finally, she walked toward him, her pretty brown hair swaying gently. She wore a lovely blue dress with white polka dots that danced around her as she moved. As she approached, her gaze locked onto his, and he felt a rush of warmth. She had beautiful eyes—big, bright, and full of life.

But then, something unexpected happened. She stopped moving, and the bottle slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground with a loud splash. The noise startled Jude, but he found it funny. The bottle’s contents splattered everywhere, a cascade of colours that danced across the floor.

Mummy’s head hit the little table beside the big chair, and Jude jumped at the sound. It was amusing, a game of sorts. So, she grabbed her head and slammed it against the table again and again. With each impact, the vibrant red liquid sprayed across the room, a startling contrast against the blue of her dress.

Jude stopped crying, his giggles bubbling up as he watched the spectacle unfold. The colours were pretty, swirling and bright, mesmerizing him in a way that made him forget his hunger.

He laughed, clapping his hands in delight as the chaos continued. It was all so strange and wonderful, and at that moment, he felt an odd sense of joy. The world around him was alive with colour, and he couldn’t help but smile. But mummy stopped moving, holding her hair with her arched arm while her eyes were locked in his.

Mummy was sleeping.

As Jude's eyes fluttered open, a bright light flooded his vision, blinding him. He closed them again, trying to shield himself from the glare. He couldn’t feel his body, as if his spirit had been detached from it.

The sounds around him were disorienting—a cacophony of beeping machines and the rhythmic hiss of air being released from somewhere nearby. Confusion washed over him like a tide, and he forgot what was happening. All he wanted was to close his eyes and sink back into the comforting embrace of sleep.

“Just a couple more tests, and you’ll be free soon, Jude.” Was that Agatha’s voice?

Jude tried to focus, to grasp the reality of her words. He opened his eyes slightly, squinting against the brightness, and he caught a glimpse of her figure, blurry but reassuring. Her face was framed by the glow of fluorescent lights.

“Agatha?” he croaked, “What’s happening?”

“You’re in the lab, Jude. We’re just running a few final tests to ensure everything is functioning as it should,” she explained, her tone calming. “You’re doing great. Just hang in there for a little while longer.”

“Tests? What tests?” he managed to ask, confused.

“Just some scans to make sure you’re ready for the next phase. I promise it’ll all be over soon,” Agatha reassured him.

“Okay,” he replied, took a deep breath, and let himself fall asleep again.

“Please, Mr. James, calm down. We can talk this out and—”

“No! No! We can’t. I can’t keep this child. I want to return it!” the man shouted with desperation and anger. "This child was made from hell! Devil's fucking spawn!"

Jude sat in a corner, playing with his legs against the legs of the chair, his eyes fixed on the ground. He had been told never to look up. Bad people look up; bad people do bad things. So he kept his gaze down, tracing the patterns on the floor with his eyes, focusing on anything but the horrible things his new papa was saying.

“You didn’t see what that kid did to my dog! A Rottweiler of 60 kg! Who will be next? My wife? My real kids? I gave my name to that little sprout of hell, but I will not give anything else. I’m dropping him here now and today!” The man’s voice was loud, too loud.

Jude continued to avoid looking at his new papa, feeling the tension crackling. He didn’t want to see the anger etched on the man’s face. He could hear the nice school lady trying to calm him down, her voice soft and soothing, but it felt distant, like an echo of someone else’s reality.

He didn’t understand what the man was so upset about. All he had done was play with the dog, telling it to backflip a couple of times. But now, he realized that maybe dogs didn’t bend that way.

He thought of the big, fluffy dog, wagging its tail as it looked at him with big, trusting eyes. Jude had just wanted to make new papa happy. He didn’t mean for anything to go wrong.

Jude bit his lip, anxiety bubbling up inside him as he listened to the conversation. He didn’t want to be returned. He just wanted to be good, to fit in, to play with the dog without causing trouble. He just wanted to be loved.

“Please, let’s just take a moment to think this through,” the school lady urged, her voice steady, trying to bridge the gap between the man’s anger and Jude’s confusion. "We warned you he was a child with special abilities. Jude needs time to learn how to handle them. Mr James, he is only 8.

But the man continued to shout. “I’m done thinking! This isn’t right! Monsters like him should not exist. I would rather adopt a fucking alien. I can’t have him… fuck him, fuck you, good day, ma'am and have the day you deserve.”

Jude’s heart sank, and he felt a wave of fear wash over him. He hugged his knees closer, trying to shrink into the chair, wishing he could disappear. What was wrong with him?

Jude woke up suddenly, his teeth chattering. He was cold, so cold. As he regained awareness, he recognized the cold hydrogel covering his body, but all around him was pitch black. Panic surged through him, and he realised he was inside a pod.

“Hey Jude, your heart rate is going through the roof,” Agatha announced. "Try to relax. I will connect you now.”

Jude didn’t utter a sound; the fear constricted his throat. All he wanted was just one happy memory, one happy place to cling to.

The bar was full, and Jude enjoyed his first day off today. He sat on a stool, leaving his bag tucked beneath it, and turned to the bartender. “One dry whiskey, please,” he asked without raising his eyes.

From the corner of his vision, he noticed a cute brunette sitting nearby. She was playing with her glass, which was still full, her fingers delicately tracing the rim. Jude couldn’t help but notice that she had only four fingers, yet those hands were some of the most beautiful he had ever seen.

“Are you going to offer me a drink?” she asked, her face completely turned toward him, but he didn’t dare look directly at her.

“Your cup is still full.”

She lifted her drink and downed it swiftly, placing the empty glass back on the bar with a thud. “Now it’s not.”

Jude tried to hold back his laughter but eventually chuckled at her boldness. There was something refreshing about her confidence, something that drew him.

“You don’t like to face people?” she asked, trying to slip into his peripheral vision. He instinctively tried to dodge it, but before he could turn away, she grabbed his chin gently, turning his face toward hers.

Their eyes locked, and Jude felt a spark of connection that he had never experienced before. Although her eyes were brown, they had a shine, drawing him in and making it impossible to look away.

“See? Better,” she said with a playful smile. “I’m Marta. I'm a friend,”

“I'm Jude and your future husband,” Jude blurted out, surprising even himself with the spontaneity of his words. For the first time in his life, he could hold someone’s gaze without the fear of something bad happening. Marta was immune.

“Are you wearing a wig?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him as he noticed the way her hair framed her face more to the left than to the right.

Marta’s expression shifted, and she suddenly seemed embarrassed, her hands flying up to cover her hair. “Dammit, it happens all the time!”

"Don't care. I'm still going to be your husband."

“Welcome to the Phantom Zone Simulation!”

“Your connection is secure, and your mind-sculpt is now integrated into the System. Please take a moment to adjust to your surroundings.”

“Mind Alignment: Calibrating neural pathways…”

“Progress: 76% complete”