STAR ACADEMY

CHAPTER SIX

Carter could not sleep. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about the device that would be installed in his skull in a few hours. A neural interface. An AI in his brain. The idea was insane. But then again, everything about the last three weeks had been insane.

At five-thirty, Reginald came for him. They went down to Dr. Mora's surgical room in silence.

This time, Carter was given hospital scrubs to change into. Dr. Mora was already prepped, her face covered by a surgical mask. An anesthesiologist stood by with equipment Carter did not recognize.

"Lie face down on the table," Dr. Mora instructed. "Head in the cradle."

Carter lay down. The cradle positioned his head so his neck was exposed. He felt vulnerable, trapped. His heart was hammering.

"You'll be under a lot of anesthetic this time," the anesthesiologist explained. "So you won't feel anything during the procedure. When you wake, there will be pain. We'll manage it with medication."

"How long does the surgery take?" Carter asked.

"Four hours," Dr. Mora said. "The implant must be positioned precisely at the base of your skull where it can interface with your neural pathways. Any error would be deadly."

"Deadly how?" Carter asked.

"It could end in Paralysis, brain damage...or death," She said without emotion. "But I don't make mistakes so you have nothing to fear. Now be quiet. We're beginning."

The anesthesiologist placed a mask over Carter's face. "Count backwards from ten."

Carter started counting. Ten. Nine. Eight. The world got fuzzy. Seven. Six. His thoughts scattered. Five. Four.

Darkness.

.................................

He woke to agony.

His head felt like it was splitting open. Like someone had driven a spike into the base of his skull and was twisting it slowly. He tried to scream but only a moan came out.

"Hold him still," Dr. Mora said.

Hands pressed Carter down. He thrashed weakly. The pain was beyond anything he had experienced. Beyond anything he thought possible.

Something cold touched his arm. An injection. The pain dulled slightly but it didn't leave completely.

"The implant is in place," Dr. Mora said. "It’ll take seven to ten days for it to fully connect. During that time, he’ll have headaches, nausea, maybe even hallucinations as his brain learns to work with the device."

"Will he be stable?" Reginald asked.

"Eventually. Keep him medicated for the first forty-eight hours. After that, reduce the dosage gradually. He needs to adjust."

Carter tried to open his eyes. The light was blinding. He closed them again. His head was wrapped in something. Bandages. Heavy and tight.

Time stopped meaning anything. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he was in bed. Sometimes people were moving him. Sometimes he heard voices. None of it made sense.

On the second day, the hallucinations started. He saw his father standing at the foot of the bed. His father who had been dead for seventeen years. His father was saying something but Carter could not hear it. Then his father melted into shadows and was gone.

He saw Elena and Eli. They were crying. Reaching for him. But when he tried to reach back, his arms would not move.

He saw Owen Grace. The real Owen. Standing in the corner of the room, blonde and cold and staring at Carter with empty eyes. "You can't be me," Owen said. "You're not good enough."

Carter tried to tell him to shut up but the words came out wrong. Or maybe they did not come out at all.

On the third day, the fog started to clear. The pain was still there but manageable. The hallucinations faded. Carter could open his eyes without the light feeling like knives.

Dr. Mora checked on him. Removed the bandages. Her fingers probed the back of his skull. He felt the implant there. A small hard lump beneath his skin.

"The integration is progressing normally," she said. "You'll begin experiencing the interface soon. When you do, don't panic. Let it happen."

"What does it feel like?"

"You'll know."

She left him alone. Carter lay there, feeling the thing in his head. It felt foreign and wrong.

Then, on the morning of the seventh day, he woke and saw something impossible.

Text. Floating in his vision. Translucent, like it was projected onto the air itself.

'SYSTEM INITIALIZATION IN PROGRESS..'

Carter sat up fast. Too fast. His head spun. But the text remained, hovering in front of his eyes no matter where he looked.

'GRACE PROTOCOL INITIALIZING...'

'NEURAL INTERFACE CALIBRATION: 67%'

"What the hell?" Carter's voice was rough from disuse.

The text changed: 'CALIBRATION COMPLETE.'

Then glowing blue text appeared: "WELCOME, OWEN GRACE."

Carter's heart was racing. The text was inside his vision but also not. It was like his brain was generating it directly. He could see through it to the room beyond but it was there, undeniable, impossible.

He stumbled out of bed. Looked around the room. The Protocol responded, highlighting objects in his field of view. The door. The window. The chair. Each one tagged with information he had not asked for.

'DOOR: OAK, REINFORCED, LOCKED'

'WINDOW: DOUBLE-PANED, BULLETPROOF GLASS'

'CHAIR: 18TH CENTURY FRENCH PROVINCIAL, VALUE: $12,000'

"Stop," Carter said out loud. "Turn off."

The highlighting faded but the HUD remained. A subtle overlay at the edges of his vision. Waiting.

Reginald's voice suddenly spoke in his ear, making him jump. "Good morning, Mr. Hayes. I see the Protocol has activated."

Carter spun around. Reginald was not in the room. But his voice was clear, like he was standing right there.

"How are you..." Carter touched his ear. Felt nothing. "How are you doing that?"

"Subdermal communication implant. Installed during your surgery. I can speak to you at any time. You can respond by subvocalizing. The Protocol will transmit your speech."

"This is insane."

"This is necessary. Now, look at me through the door."

Carter walked to the door. Through the small window, he could see Reginald standing in the hallway. The moment Carter's eyes focused on him, the Protocol activated.

Text appeared next to Reginald's face.

'REGINALD THORNE'

'ROLE: HANDLER'

'THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME'

'PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: MANIPULATIVE, LOYAL TO GRACE FAMILY, RUTHLESS, EXPERT FIGHTER.

Carter stared and then said, "It's analyzing you."

"It analyzes everything. People, situations, social dynamics. It will suggest responses in complex interactions. It will recall information you've studied. It will help you navigate situations where Owen's knowledge is expected." Reginald's expression did not change. "But it is not perfect. The system will glitch. It will provide incorrect information. It will fail when you need it most. Do not become dependent on it."

"You put an AI in my brain and now you're telling me not to trust it?" Carter asked incredulously.

"I'm telling you to use it as a tool, not a crutch. You are still responsible for your own success or failure. The Protocol is assistance, not a guarantee."

Carter wanted to argue but his head was starting to hurt again. The HUD flickered slightly. The text scrambled for a moment before resolving.

"You agreed to do whatever it takes," Reginald continued. "This is what it takes. Now, rest. Tomorrow we'll begin training you to use it properly."

The communication cut off. Carter was alone again.

He walked to the bathroom. Looked at himself in the mirror. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Refined features. A stranger's face. And now a stranger's thoughts, generated by a machine in his head.

He was not Carter Hayes anymore. Not really.

He was becoming Owen Grace. Whether he wanted to or not.

.......

The next morning, Carter woke to the Protocol displaying his schedule.

06:00 - BREAKFAST

07:00 - PROTOCOL TRAINING WITH R. THORNE

12:00 - LUNCH

13:00 - CONTINUED ETIQUETTE REVIEW

18:00 - DINNER

19:00 - FINAL PREPARATION BRIEFING

He got dressed. The Protocol helpfully tagged each piece of clothing with information he did not need. SHIRT: EGYPTIAN COTTON, $400. PANTS: ITALIAN WOOL, $800.

Breakfast was in the small dining room. Just Carter and Reginald. The Protocol tagged the food. EGGS BENEDICT. COFFEE: JAMAICAN BLUE MOUNTAIN. ORANGE JUICE: FRESH-SQUEEZED.

"Stop telling me about the food," Carter muttered.

The tags disappeared.

Reginald was watching him. "You're learning to control it. Good. The Protocol responds to intent. Think about what you want and it will adapt."

After breakfast, Reginald took him to a training room. It was set up like a classroom. Chairs. A projector. Screens on the walls.

"We're going to run scenarios," Reginald explained. "I'll present you with social situations. The Protocol will analyze them and suggest responses. Your job is to decide whether to follow those suggestions or improvise."

They worked for hours. Reginald would describe a situation. The Protocol would generate analysis and options. Carter would choose a response. Reginald would critique it.

Most of the time, the Protocol's suggestions were reasonable. Sometimes they were brilliant. Occasionally they were completely wrong.

"You're learning," Reginald said during a break. "The Protocol is a tool. Nothing more. It makes you better but it doesn't make you perfect."

They were halfway through another scenario when Carter felt it. A sudden pain in his head. Sharp and brutal. His vision blurred. The Protocol's display went haywire.

Text scrolled across his vision in what looked like Chinese. Characters he could not read. Then Korean. Then symbols that were not any language at all. Just random noise.

"Reginald." Carter's voice was strained. "Something's wrong."

Reginald was already moving. Speaking into his phone. "Dr. Mora. We have a glitch. Bring the stabilizer."

Carter's legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees. The room was spinning. The Protocol was screaming information at him in languages he did not know. His head felt like it was being torn apart from the inside.

Dr. Mora appeared. She had a syringe. She injected something into Carter's neck without hesitation.

The chaos in his head stopped immediately. The Protocol's display went blank. Then slowly rebooted. Text in English again.

SYSTEM STABILIZED. GLITCH RESOLVED.

Carter was on the floor, gasping. His whole body was shaking.

Dr. Mora crouched beside him. "Your neural patterns are incompatible with Owen's baseline profile. The Protocol was designed for him, not you. The system keeps trying to correct what it perceives as errors in your brain chemistry."

"Meaning what?" Carter managed to say.

"Meaning it's fighting you. Your brain is fighting it. Eventually, they'll adapt to each other. Until then, expect more glitches. Possibly worse ones."

"How much worse?"

"A lot worse," She said calmly. "Adapt, or it will kill you."

She stood up, packed away her syringe and left the room.

Reginald helped Carter to his feet. "Can you continue?"

Carter wanted to say no. Wanted to rip the implant out of his skull. Wanted to run from this place and never look back.

But he thought of Elena. Of Eli. Of the quarter million dollars that had already changed their lives. Of the promise he had made.

"Yeah," Carter said. His voice was shaky but determined. "I can continue."

"Good, then let's continue." Reginald's expression might have held a hint of respect but Carter wasn't quick enough to catch it.

They went back to training. The Protocol hummed in Carter's head. A ticking bomb waiting to explode. But Carter pushed through. He had come too far to quit now.

That night, alone in his room, he stared at his reflection. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. A machine in his brain. A stranger's life waiting to be lived.

"Great," he muttered to himself. "No pressure."

The Protocol, ever helpful, displayed a response.

ACKNOWLEDGED. PRESSURE LEVEL: EXTREME.

Carter laughed. It came out bitter and exhausted. Then he went to bed.

Tomorrow, Reginald had said, they would leave for Star Academy.

Tomorrow, he would stop being Carter Hayes entirely.

Tomorrow, he would become Owen Grace.

And God help him, he had no idea if he would survive it.