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Da Cybork Menace Prologue | |
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Prologue |
“Grot, saw,” the ork surgeon demanded as he leant over the patient strapped into the chair in front of him and folded back the flesh from the top of his skull. His work was illuminated by a set of electrical lights which, being of ork manufacture flickered and cast out a poor yellowish glow rather than the clean white light that would have been provided by the human made lights that he had tried unsuccessfully to procure. His diminutive assistant handed him the crude bone saw and in return took the smaller blade that had just been used to cut through the patient’s flesh. There was a grinding sound as the surgeon began to cut through the exposed skull, pausing every so often so that he could reposition himself to cut through a different part of the bone. When he felt the last part of the skull give way the surgeon dropped the tool to the floor, from where another gretchin retrieved it. Carefully he grasped the top of the exposed skull in his hands and with a sharp tug he pulled it away, exposing the brain beneath it. “Small proda,” the surgeon said and the gretchin handed him a short metal rod that was flattened at one end. At one time it had been a spoon, but now with much of the bowl cut away it served as a surgical implement. The surgeon pressed the flattened end of his tool into his patient’s skull, between the brain and the bone, then he dragged the tool around the inside edge of the skull and made sure that the brain was not catching on anything. Then he used the rod as a lever and slowly prised the brain out of the skull, catching it with his free hand before it could fall to the floor. Three clusters of nerves extended from the brain, the primary cluster lead to the patient’s spine, while each of the other two smaller ones were the optic nerves that led to the eyes that remained in the skull. Dropping the rod the surgeon called for another tool. “Small cutta.” A gretchin handed his master a small sharp blade with which he cut through each of the nerve clusters close to the brain itself. Then he dropped both the blade and the brain for one of his assistants to pick up. “Clamp.” A complicated brass object was passed to the surgeon. It consisted of a metal basket at the centre of four rods that extended outwards at right angles to each other. Each rod was in two parts, with a wider tube over a narrower core that attached to the ring itself. The surgeon lowered the clamp into the empty skull and extended the rods outwards one at a time so that the tips pressed against the inside of the skull, and using small screws set into the tubes he fixed them in position. When he was done with all four rods the clamped sat fixed at the centre of the patient’s skull. “Donor,” the surgeon said, and a small cart was wheeled to him. On top of the cart was a small squiggly beast pinned to a wooden board, wriggling away. The skull of the creature was open just like the ork patient’s was, and it brain was exposed. “Small proda,” the surgeon said and he was given back the tool that he had dropped on the floor earlier. The surgeon repeated the procedure of prising the tiny brain free of its skull before requesting another tool to sever the nerve clusters that dangled from it. This time however, the clusters were cut further away from the brain. Several seconds after its brain was detached from its body, the squig stopped moving. Then the squig’s brain was placed in the basket at the centre of the clamp so that the nerve clusters dangled down into the skull. “Cover.” A brass basket that matched the one at the centre of the clamp was given to the surgeon, who placed it over the brain, enclosing it completely. Then he tightened screws set into the cover to fix it in place. Then the surgeon took hold of the main nerve clusters that extended from the squig’s brain and the ork’s spine and gripped them together in one hand. “Small pincers.” The surgeon was given a small pair of pliers, which he used to squeeze the exposed ends of the nerve clusters together. As the surgeon squeezed the nerve clusters oozed, and the liquid released began to run along the clusters. Seeing this, the surgeon released the pressure from the pliers and let the now fused nerve cluster drop into the skull. The surgeon repeated this procedure with the two optic nerves, taking care to connect the nerves running from the brain to those running to the correct eyes. Then he dropped the pliers to the floor. “’Ead case.” One of the surgeon’s gretchin assistants handed the surgeon a steel bowl, which he then proceeded to place over the open skull. “Nail shoota.” A bulky pistol shaped device was given to the surgeon and he pressed it against the steel bowl where it overlapped the ork’s skull. There was a sudden ‘Bang!” as the surgeon pulled the trigger and a nail was propelled through both, joining them together. The surgeon moved the gun slightly, and another nail was fired through the bowl and the skull. He continued until there was a ring of nails all around his patient’s head, holding its new steel cover securely in place. The surgeon dropped the gun to the floor, and there was another ‘Bang!’ as the impact caused it to go off, sending a nail through one of the electric lights. “Contact.” The surgeon was given a large metal clip that was fixed to the end of a thick electrical cable and he attached it to one of his patient’s ears. “Other contact.” A second clip, also at the end of a cable was given to him, and he attached this one to the ork’s other ear before he stepped away from his patient. He turned around and faced another ork who had been standing in the shadows for the duration of the surgery. This ork carried a great many tools on his belt, and had his hand resting on a large switch mounted on the wall. Next to the switch was a large set of shelves on which lay a vast collection of batteries all connected together and then to the switch. “Now!” the surgeon yelled, and the other ork threw the switch. There was a flash of light as the contacts sparked as the switch closed, and more sparks danced over the ork that was secured to the chair. The ork in the chair convulsed as electrical current flowed through it. It continued to convulse randomly until its eyes suddenly opened, it sat upright as much as the straps holding it down would allow and it gave out a cry. “Waaargh!” The surgeon threw his arms up into the air and looked upwards as he gave out a yell. “’E’s alive!” |
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Copyright Notice The Warhammer 40,000 universe is the intellectual property of Games Workshop Ltd. The fiction presented here is a derived work. It is completely unofficial and Games Workshop Ltd has not endorsed any of it. |
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