Chapter 13

I decided to wait her out.

It wasn't like she could go anywhere. If she wanted to go get extensive surgery she would need transportation. The keys to my car were in my desk, and I took the phone on my desk off the hook, so she couldn't call a cab. Patrolling cabs never came by my neighborhood.

I couldn't fathom what had brought this on. It was a bit strange for a woman to ask a male what his fantasy female would look like. In all honesty I had just given a description of Sarah with bigger breasts and a better complexion. Not one of my most creative moments ... but it was the answer that most red blooded American men would have given.

Which is exactly why I should have kept it to myself.

Sarah was at the very least interesting. At times she seemed to completely acquiesce to the chip and act like a slave, at other times her fiery personality shone through.

After about thirty minutes I started to get a little anxious. I started to spin a pen around in my hand ... something I knew I only did when I was unsettled.

What I really wanted was a drink ... but I needed to think clearly. I had gotten into this mess by not using my head ... I needed to get creative, and start acting like I knew what I was doing.

It was after an hour had past when I heard the shriek.

I paused for a beat. Then I leapt out of my chair and ran for the door. Another shriek pierced the house. It was coming from Sarah's bed room. I bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and I practically kicked down the guest room door.

Sarah was lying naked on her bed. She was flushed and writhing on top of the sheets. I grasped her by the shoulders and looked down into her pain filled eyes.

"SARAH!" I screamed. "Sarah what's wrong? Are you ill ... please God Sarah, tell me what's wrong."

Tears were streaming from down her cheeks ... but she gazed up at me and smiled...

"I'm changing for you Master ... I'm going to be your fantasy woman ... I'm going to be perfect for you..."

Her words were cut off by a gut wrenching moan.

I grabbed her face with my hands and focused her onto my face. "What do you mean Sarah ... what do you mean changing for me?"

Sarah moaned. "The chip ... it's making the changes you asked for ... the last stage of the symbiosis is taking place ... I don't know how I know this ... but ... oh Master it hurts ... I wish it didn't hurt so much."

Sarah was crying openly now. She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. Her naked breasts pushed up into my chest.

"Sarah ... do you mean to say that the chip is turning you into the woman I described in the study?"

She simply nodded, and hugged me tighter. Her body was incredibly warm, almost as if she were running a fever...

Oh my god ... she's running a fever.

I tore myself away from her and ran into the bathroom. I jerked open the medicine cabinet. I kept a spare thermometer in there.

"Open your mouth," I said. Sarah opened her mouth.

"Keep this under your tongue."

She nodded.

My heart sank as I watched the number slowly tick higher and higher.

103 Fahrenheit. Not good.

I start to think quickly. I didn't have the qualifications of a doctor, and Sarah was burning up. The first thing she needed was an ice pack. The next thing she needed was someone who knew what the hell to do.

I tore down to the kitchen to get the ice. I was on my cell phone at the same time.

Jim picked up on the first ring.

"John, I thought you weren't coming back for a week?"

"I'm not Jim but I have a situation here ... do you have Dr. Thompson's phone number?" I asked frantically.

"No need John, I'm standing right next to him ... I'll give you to him now." I could hear the cell phone switching hands.

"Hello? Agent Creed? Doctor Thompson speaking."

I sighed in relief. "Listen Dr. Thompson, there have been some complications with the neural processor. I was wondering if you could come down here and help. She's running a pretty high fever."

There was a pause.

"How high," he asked.

"One hundred three," I replied.

He grunted in affirmation. "Alright, I'll bring some of my gear down and take a look at her, if her temperature gets any higher than that take her to the hospital."

I was relieved Thompson was coming. "Get Jim to give you my address. I'll leave the front door open for you. We'll be on the second floor."

"Alright Agent Creed, I'll be there as soon as possible."

Sarah was shaking on the bed. I tried my best to help her, but I was useless. I held an ice pack to her head, and stroked her hair softly. I whispered in her ear that everything would be alright ... even though I was freaking out.

I heard the front door open ... then feet on the stairs.

Jim and Dr. Thompson burst into the room. Dr. Thompson was holding one of those old fashioned physician bags, the ones doctors use to make house calls.

Dr. Thompson approached Sarah. He pulled a pen light out of his pocket. He lifted Sarah's eyelids with one hand and waved the light in front of Sarah's eyes.

He turned and looked at me. "She seems to be in pain, but not of disabling magnitude. She is still responsive. However, she is far too warm, even with the ice pack."

I looked between him and Jim. "What should we do?"

Doctor Thompson peered into the bathroom. "Is there a tub in there?"

I nodded.

He smiled. "Good, fill it with cold water, we're going to have to dump her in it ... um, is she dressed under these sheets?"

I shook my head.

Dr. Thompson shrugged. "I guess modesty comes second ... let's move her to the tub ... then I have questions for you ... the tub is a temporary solution ... we still may need to get her to a hospital."

I filled the tub with cold water ... Jim and I gently eased her into the frigid bath, while Dr. Thompson took notes on his notepad.

We returned to the guestroom.

Dr. Thompson cleared his throat. "Let's talk in here, it would be unwise to stray very far from her in this condition."

I sat down on the bed, and Jim occupied the chair in the corner of the room. Dr. Thompson leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"Alright Mr. Creed, tell us how you know the neural processor is responsible for the fever. It is flu season you know ... Sarah might just have a bit of a bug."

For a second I imagined that her pain wasn't my fault ... that she had simply come down with a cold ... it was a nice thought...

"She told me the chip was doing it." I replied.

Dr. Thompson nodded, and made a note on his pad. "Alright, how did she know that the chip was responsible?"

I shrugged. "She has frequently said that she 'knows' things without knowing why ... my assumptions are that the chip is supplying her information subconsciously."

Another note was scribbled down.

"Very well," Thompson said, "Now, what did she say was the cause of her current state?"