[Your left lung is in need of a cleaning routine.] The message flashed up in-vision. A small icon appeared in the heads-up-display, a representation of her lungs with the right displaying as amber while the left was red. Louise Barrington focused her attention on the icon, resulting in a pop up window listing diagnostics.
[Organic and inorganic material accumulates in cybernetic lungs, reducing O2 functions as material presence increases. It is now time for your lung to undergo a cleaning routine before serious clogs start forming. If you wish to begin now, please confirm.] A message read above the display of maximum, minimum and current breathing levels.
Pushing herself up from her bunk, she strode on through to the small bathroom in the room she shared with a fellow soldier. She had been called back to base from her forward sniping position, where the rolling clouds of dust and sand had no doubt contributed towards the build up of detritus in her lungs. With the room to herself, there was no better time to get to maintenance of her expensive body.
Slipping off her fatigue top revealed the extensive cybernetics she’d had done to herself. Her limbs had been replaced with sleek, military specification prosthetics with all the necessary features for sniping built in. Her torso was lined with the incision marks and seals that were made to replace biological organs with synthetic ones designed for performance and synergy with cybernetic limbs.
Running a finger up her left side, she found the small valve in her chest that connected to the lung inside. Sitting herself down on the lid of the toilet, her free hand took up the pulmonary cleaner kit. An all-in-one device, it was prepared by adding three bottles to the main body. Two smaller ones contained a cleanser and distilled water, while the larger one was for the removal of the mixed product and any residue.
Upon selecting confirm from the dialogue box, she felt the odd sensation of her left lung shutting down. The haemoglobin transfer tubing sealed itself off. A long exhale emptied her lung so the bronchial lock could prevent anything else entering. As directed by the in-vision diagrams, she connected the cleaner to the valve and pressed the button.
Her artificial hands gripped her thighs as a biocidal cleaning agent flowed through her lung. The contractions usually used for delivering air to what flesh and blood remained in her instead flushed through the part in a set cycle before extraction. Louise kept her eyes averted from the larger bottle as the cleanser brought out various other things in addition to the liquid.
The water came next in three stages, from a rinse to a fine mist, then one last rinse to ensure the lung was free of cleanser. It was fascinating for her to watch the diagnostic program work, opening her lung back up to allow a quick circulation of air before the O2 transfer systems came back online.
[Your left lung is now clean and working at optimal efficiency.] The readout reported happily. [Please dispose of the waste responsibly. Would you like to perform a cleaning routine on your right lung?] It asked.
Well, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do while waiting for deployment.