Day 190: 7 Feb 2011
I feel clearer than I've felt in a long time, but that isn't saying a hell of a lot.
The wheelchair sucks. You'd think for a place with as much technology as this, they'd have one of those cool motorized jobs, but no. Of course not, right? I'm tooling around in the same type of crappy model they use to wheel you out of the hospital after surgery. Yes, I'm complaining. But I suppose it beats being dead.
The slug is sure dead, though. I know that much. I saw its body after they took it out of me. It was bigger than when it went in, and had tendrils stretching three feet or more in every direction. Looking at it was unpleasant. But they wheeled it out of here shortly after I woke up, no doubt to dissect the hell out of it.
Captain Black came by to see me. Told me that Travis and Cassie would be working for him now, that there was a place for me, too, because of the knowledge in my head. The slug used my brain like a hard drive, and I can remember everything about the past six years, and so much more than that. I can remember everything the slug knew, and that's a lot.
So, I figure I'll take him up on his offer. What else am I gonna do? If he gets me a better damn wheelchair, that is.