A shadow came to the front of the tent, and muttered something in a foreign language. The old man walked to the door, mumbled something back to the man, and then he came back to Ix. The man then began pulling some curtains that had been rolled up on the ceiling.
“Once again, my opinion is that two trait enhancers is better for you and your health. But since you are set to have three, let me give you the warnings now that you are still conscious.
“It will be painful. Very painful. After, it will be unpredictable what your reaction to the trait implants will be. You may feel as if nothing had happened. Or you may be sick for days. It is best to go to a healer’s hospice, just in case.
“This is just the first few days. The long term results are also unpredictable, even more so when getting three implants. You could be healthier from that point on. Or you could become chronically ill. You may die suddenly.”
The old man began tucking the curtains under the floor rug under the table. “And your mind may take strange turns. Your mind could become calmer and more clear, but it could become more chaotic. You may go mad. You may get new powers, such as hearing people or seeing visions. One cannot tell what will happen. Are you ready to take those risks, young man?”
“I am.”
“Very well. I will show you the chips, and then implant them. Take your shirt off and lie down.” Ix obeyed. “Take this,” said the old man as he pushed a blue, ornate bottle.
“No. Until you show me the chips.”
“Ha, ha! I like you, young man. ”
The old man brought a stool next to the table, put the bundle down very softly, and began to unroll it with extreme care.
“This better not be another show of yours. I will inspect them,” said Ix.
“Quiet.” the old man commanded. His face now showed intense concentration. His hands were eerily steady. He picked the chips with the long ivory tool. “Cover your mouth and nose.” Ix did so. The old man slowly brought the chips to Ix’s eyes. Ix looked at them. He asked the man to turn them around, so that he could see the back. The man slowly tuned the chips in front of his eyes. Ix nodded. The chips returned to the cloth, and Ix turned his body away from them, although keeping an eye on the chips, and started drinking the wine, and lay down on the table.
The old man covered his mouth with a handkerchief. He began chanting and praying as he prepared his tools, as he washed Ix’s body with wine, as he cleaned his instruments in the same wine. He picked up the most precious tool, where he placed the chips in each of its tubes. Ix’s vision blurred. Distantly he heard the old man saying, “This will hurt.” Ix became unconscious at that point.
“AURRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!” screamed Ix.
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