Osiris ordered another glass of water at the bar, then took the glass and walked to the innermost corner of the pub.
He sat down in the empty seat opposite Elias, the metal chair legs scraping against the floor with a slight creak.
Elias kept his head down, unresponsive, as if he were immersed in his own world.
Osiris pushed the glass of water in front of the other person and placed it next to the untouched glass of synthetic liquor.
"Have some of this." His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough, coming through the built-in speaker with a straightforward quality. "Synthetic alcohol will only worsen the irritation of your bronchial mucosa."
Elias' body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and he slowly raised his head.
His gaze was somewhat unfocused, weary and wary, sweeping over Osiris' complex mechanical body before finally settling on the glass of water.
"I don't need charity." His voice was hoarse, still lingering from a cough.
"This is not charity." Osiris's gaze, fixed steadily on Elias's face through the optical lens, "Your symptoms are not those of a common lung infection or pneumoconiosis."
Elias frowned, his lips moved as if he wanted to refute, but in the end he just pursed his lips and remained silent.
Osiris continued speaking, lowering her voice to make sure only the two of them could hear her.
"A persistent dry cough, accompanied by intermittent chest pain and difficulty breathing. Decreased physical strength, slow wound healing, and unexplained subcutaneous bleeding.
The color of your complexion and the inner corners of your eyelids both point to suppressed hematopoietic function." He paused slightly, looking at the growing surprise in Elias's eyes. "These cannot be explained by a single cause."
These are caused by long-term, low-dose exposure to high-energy particle radiation of a specific spectrum, leading to damage at the genetic level and subsequently triggering systemic physiological disorders.
Elias' breathing became noticeably rapid, and his hands on the table clenched slightly.
Within the family, the disease is generally referred to as "core cost" or radiation sickness, but no one has ever described its causes and mechanisms so clearly and specifically, let alone pointed out "genetic damage".
This unfamiliar cyborg made a more accurate judgment than the town's doctor simply by observing him.
"You... how do you know all this?" Elias' voice trembled slightly, his previous wariness replaced by a mixture of shock and faint hope.
"I've encountered similar cases before." Osiris didn't answer directly, but instead steered the conversation to the core issue: "For this kind of damage, conventional anti-radiation drugs and supportive therapies can only slow down the deterioration, not cure it. It requires more… targeted biological repair technologies."
Elias stared intently at Osiris, trying to discern something from that expressionless, metallic face.
"Targeted technology? You make it sound so easy. Even the family…" He abruptly stopped, realizing he had almost said something inappropriate.
"The family's medical resources are prioritized for those who contribute more to the 'core' or those with higher status, right?" Osiris continued, her tone still calm. "And you, it seems, are not in the priority list."
These words were like a needle, piercing Elias' feigned calm.
His shoulders slumped, and his eyes revealed pain and a hint of humiliation at being spoken of.
Osiris observed his reaction and knew that the time was right.
"If your condition continues to be delayed, the outcome is predictable. But the methods I possess may be able to halt the progression of the damage and even repair some of the damaged tissue." He leaned forward slightly, the mechanical torso emitting a faint hydraulic hum. "However, this requires detailed diagnostic data and your cooperation."
Elias sat there, clearly going through a fierce internal struggle.
The family's helplessness regarding the disease stands in stark contrast to the hope offered by the strangers before them.
This man who called himself "Karl" was by no means an ordinary, down-on-his-luck archaeological technician.
His knowledge and judgment far exceeded the level of this small town.
"Why are you helping me?" Elias finally raised his head, looking directly into Osiris' optical lens, his voice hoarse.
"I said I need data and cooperation," Osiris replied deftly. "Your case has research value. And helping you is a necessary prerequisite for obtaining this data. It's a deal."
In the dim light of the tavern, the air between the two seemed to freeze.
Elias looked at the glass of clear water, then at Osiris. In the end, his instinct for survival and his dissatisfaction with the status quo overcame his fear of the unknown.
He took a deep breath, which triggered another slight cough.
After things calmed down, he said in a low voice, "This is not the place to talk."
Elias' residence was at the end of a secluded passageway, with a standard alloy door that looked no different from the other residents' homes.
He swiped his ID card to unlock the door and gestured for Osiris to enter.
The room was small and simply furnished.
A narrow bed, an alloy wardrobe, and a table piled with clutter and data boards took up almost all the space.
The walls were bare metal sheets, and a low hum emanated from the vent in the corner.
Most striking were the numerous data boards, technical manuals, and hand-drawn circuit diagrams scattered on the table and bedside, some of which were marked with complex formulas and simplified diagrams of the starship system structure.
The air was filled with a faint smell of engine oil and a barely perceptible scent of a patient.
Elias locked the door behind him, his movements somewhat hurried.
He leaned against the door, took a few breaths, and then pointed to the only chair in the room.
"Sit down." He walked to the bedside and sat down, his gaze never leaving Osiris.
Osiris didn't stand on ceremony. His massive mechanical body sat down on the seemingly flimsy chair, making a slight creaking sound.
He put down his tool bag and took out a device about the size of his palm.
The device's casing looks somewhat worn, like a typical civilian medical scanner, but the internal components have been replaced and reinforced.
"I need more detailed physiological data," Osiris said, activating the device.
A soft blue scanning beam shot out from the probe, enveloping Elias' chest and head area.
The device emits a regular low hum, and a data stream scrolls rapidly on the screen.
Elias looked at the scanner nervously, then at Osiris: "This thing..."
"It's the standard model, but with some improvements, making it more accurate," Osiris explained simply, his gaze focused on the constantly changing data and waveforms on the screen.
The scan lasted about two minutes.
During this time, Elias couldn't help but cough a few more times.
After the scan was completed, Osiris looked at the summary analysis report on the screen.
The report uses concise charts and figures to show the degree of fibrosis in Elias' lung tissue, the hematopoietic stem cell activity inhibition index, and the concentration of markers of radiation damage at the cellular level.
The data matched his previous assessment, and the situation was more serious than it appeared.